There is nothing in this world I hate more than camping.

Why anybody would choose to spend an extended amount of time in a smelly, backache inducing (you can't stand up in tents so you walk around resembling a muddier version of Quasimodo for 2 weeks, then to top it off you have to sleep on the floor, where you WILL choose the pod with the rock under the groundsheet), freezing cold at night so you wear all your jumpers at night and then have to wear them again in the day, so you end up wearing ALL your jumpers ALL the time for two weeks, until they peel themselves off your back and run for the hills shouting "WASH ME!", boiling hot during the day so you lie in your "bed" and get bitten by ten thousand mosquitos and have to suffer the smell of hot canvassy tent, wet (don't lean against the oversheet in the night - the company lied when they said this tent was waterproof) hovel is a mystery.

I just can't see why anyone would want to stay somewhere where the nearest loo is a fifteen minute walk away, which you are most likely to need to use in the middle of the night when you won't be able to see the damn zip to open your pod, and when you do find a zip, it's the mozzy net, so you're only halfway there, and have to start the "sweeping arm movement zip hunt" all over again, where in actual fact all you do is zip up the mozzy net again... and then it gets stuck... to the extent where you're looking for your penknife to angrily slash fucking thing off ALL THE TIME NEEDING THE LOO. When you do manage to get out of your pod and out of your sleeping bag, and are stood there shivering in the "hall?" you have to find your shoes, where you will invariably stub your toes on something heavy - like your little sister's new pet rock from the beach or stand on a potato peeler or you will kick the torch you were about to use somewhere never to be seen again... then the only shoes you can get on in your sleepy, raging state are your wellies, where one of your pj bottoms will agree amicably and go inside your wellies, and the other will stubbornly hang half over the top, by which point you just don't give one any more and begin the struggle to open the tent.

Then whilst stumbling down the track to the toilet in your pajamas, wellies, and six jumpers, you will bump into some very hot person who looks impeccable, and you will be so irate by this point you angrily ignore them, and stamp past them, and your chance of a holiday romance is dashed forever.

Then on your way back from the loos you will get your feet wet trying to take your wellies off and then have to get back into your sleeping bag with freezing cold wet feet, which will be all wrinkled by morning and you'll be in a foul mood because it took you two hours to get back to sleep cos you could hear your stepdad snoring... and there's nothing to eat...

Repeat x10 nights.

Who can identify with this scenario? Boycott camping!