05/08/2024
Camping
Written by Jon van Wyk
In all honesty, camping and I are on a mutually exclusive basis. As a colleague of mine in Hong Kong once put it; ‘Why you pay so much money for house and then sleep outside like a beggar?’
I must admit he did make a good point.
When it comes to living on the Fraser Coast though, the promise of perfect camping conditions grabs the attention of even the most seasoned city slicker like me, which is why I recently set out on what I thought would be a delightful escapade to a well known island camping area. Little did I know that the camping gods had something quite different in store for me.
It all started with the tent. As a self-proclaimed expert in all things DIY (thanks, YouTube), I confidently took charge of pitching my temporary abode for the night.
Little did I know that a tent standing proudly on its four legs was merely a suggestion of what could be attained given the right circumstances – in my reality, it became a lopsided, half-collapsed structure. Cue the laughter and the first of many groans from the more seasoned locals watching nearby.
As night fell, so did the temperature, and my feeble attempts to start a campfire proved futile. It turns out that rubbing two sticks together only works on TV, not in real life. So, armed with a box of matches and my own naiveness, I fumbled my way through a series of comical mishaps – from setting fire to the wrong end of the matchbox to accidentally soaking kindling with water instead of fire-starting fluid.
With my stomach growling and my spirit dampened (literally and metaphorically), I turned to my meagre food supplies for sustenance. This is where my genius culinary skills came into play. Who knew that burnt marshmallows could double as a charcoal-flavoured delicacy?
While my onlookers may have begged to differ, I like to think I elevated my camp cooking experience to gourmet levels. Despite the chaotic series of events that unfolded that fateful night, a strange sense of camaraderie emerged among us (possibly inspired by the cold drinks I passed out of my esky). As we huddled together under the stars around that great Aussie leveller, the campfire (lit by one of the locals), we told stories and our laughter mingled with the sounds of the wilderness. I realised at that point that the true joy of camping lies not in an immaculate tent or perfect campfire meals, but in the shared moments of comradery and adventure, not to mention being able to experience the sheer beauty of the incredible camping locales that the Fraser Coast offers.
So here’s to disastrous camping trips, burnt marshmallows, and lopsided tents – may they always remind us that sometimes, the best memories are made when things don’t go according to plan. And who knows, maybe next time, I’ll remember to pack the bug spray. Or not. After all, where’s the fun in a perfect camping trip?
