Camping ... simplicity lost in lust

MEN can be vulgar when they’re in a group. ‘‘Check it out,’’ one of us says, a little too loudly, as we walk past the campsite everyone’s been talking about. ‘‘The lucky so-and-so ...’’ another says. There’s even a‘‘Phwoaar!’’

Blame the isolation. When you’ve been in the bush for a few days – in this case, at Crowdy Bay National Park on the north coast – there’s nothing quite like the sight of a new camper trailer to get the bloodracing.

I’ve never been the type to covet my neighbour’s ass – I don’t care what cars, houses and flat-screen TVs the Joneses have – but there’s something about other people’s camping gear that brings out the green-eyed monster.

From solar showers to stoves on stands and floating lanterns to folding pantries, it’s all so incredibly alluring. It’s all I can do to tear myself away from some campsites, where I stand gawping in wonder at their chairs with built-in food trays and their architect-designed tarpaulin arrangements. What I wouldn’t give to sit there, under that, in a storm. Maybe one day, God willing.

I’m not alone. The firelight’s flicker is the only illumination as we sit around at night but there is no denying the sight of everyone’s eyes lighting up as the conversation turns to visiting a camping store. And we all have a similar tale to tell: we’ve entered these dens of iniquity, been tempted, and resisted. But one day, we know, we’ll be back. And we’ll buy every Dutch oven and collapsible bucket in the place.

This is strange because the lack of appliances, gadgets and gizmos is part of camping’s appeal. All you’ve got to worry about is eating, drinking, not tripping over tent ropes and maintaining a standard of hygiene high enough to keep yeast infections at bay.

This getting back to basics soon calms the most frayed of nerves and brings everyone to a quiet state of mind that is rarely experienced out in the real world. So why do we let crass consumerist cravings sully ourthoughts?

Perhaps because it is not in human nature – or the modern human psyche – to be content with simple living. Perhaps because you feel like a bad parent when your children’s mini-tent floods and as there’s no room in your mini-tent, they have to move into your friend’s 12-berth McMansion supertent with annexes off its annexes. And perhaps because cooking a curry for 12 people with a billy, a Bunsen burner and a jaffle iron is a logistical nightmare, especially when the matches are wet.

Our camping gear needs upgrading. The challenge will be to enter that camping store and not get carried away. The last thing we want is to turn our humble set-up into one with too much comfort and too many complications and mod cons.

After all, if we can’t spend half our time gawping enviously at other people’s campsites, how else are we going to pass the time?