Brief essays inspired by family camping
My rucksack contained three beds, two sleeping bags, a small ration of underwear, a shirt, a pair of shorts, Birkenstocks sandals, a stove, methlylated spirits, some of the shoe overflow from Cath’s rucksack, an Opinel knife, two torches, a rubber mallet, a notebook, a bottle of Talisker single malt, a pair of speakers, an...
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Camping with children but without a car: maximum effort, minimum capacity for shame.
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Three generations of the family at play in this video, shot at Hever Castle in April and in Brittany thirty years ago.
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Cath and I used to go camping without a car. The absolute minimum gear while still packing a kid. I wrote this for The Guardian on the subject. Now I can drive. But I’ll never forget heaving all that kit around the public transport system.
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Vintage camping
Tom and Florence sit side by side in deck chairs: he is wearing a cap and glasses and she has her hands resting on her lap, holding a handbag. Arrayed before them, their three daughters on sun loungers, Brenda, Sheila and Sylvia. Then the two son in laws Billy and my father Eddie are...
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