Cycle-camping is a fantastic, self-contained experience. The
epic adventures up and down massive hills or over vast distances through all kinds
of terrain. The fantastic dawns and dusks; the tasty campsite meals, the well-deserved
local brew, and, the great sense of achievement: the victory of determination
and stamina over bottling out. Cyclo-camping is all of the above and more. One
thing, however, that cyclo-camping isn’t, is comfortable. All the above and
more are achieved at the expense of any semblance of comfort. There is little
scope for carting about much other the basic needs of sleep, feeding and
relaxation. But, we are steeled for the privations – we know they are coming: the
cold showers, the surprises in the toilets, the forgotten toilet paper; the
stubborn sleeping mat that travels about the tent then deflates; going for a
pee in the middle of the night in a deluge, opening the door of the tent in the
morning to a soggy, sploshy pitch.
But, just imagine you could squeeze some extra, bonus, creature
comfort into your kit; somehow, by reducing the weight and size of all the
other bits of kit, you could afford to carry that very special item – what would
it be?
Eurohike specialise in kitsch camping – this temptation had
me checking its dimensions:
You’d never get me out of bed with this:
Invite the tent people from next-door over and knock up something
special with this:
Feast under this or have an indoor tennis match:
dream on...
