What’s more fun? Camping? Or Being in a wild place where camping is the only alternative?

Camping is a real chore. The bed is never as comfortable as the one at home. The food is as good, sometimes better, but it’s a chore to make given the lack of convenience. The chairs aren’t nearly as comfortable as my ones at home. And if it rains, it’s horrible. And I hate sleeping in a ba

So why do I love it so?

For me, it’s where I wake up that makes all the difference. If you invited me to go camping at Vaal Dam or at the Blickiesfonteindorp Oord, then I would make any excuse to get out of it. I would rather clean the dog’s ears. But a trip to the desert, preferably with as few people around as possible, I am happy to undergo near torture for a few evenings and mornings of that.

I had my wheels rotated the other day and the man asked me if my Land Cruiser was just a “mall crawler”. I told him it was, but then he asked why I have nice red shock absorbers. We got talking. I wanted to ask this question of him, but without giving away my motives. He had a very nicely equipped Defender 90 and an Echo trailer. He said proudly, “You wouldn’t believe me, when I tell you. Me and my wife. When we arrive at a campsite, just, and I’m not lying, just 45 minutes, and everything is done and ready. I nearly tripped over the tyre iron. 45 minutes!!!!!.

On a good day, it takes me five. Yes, just five. Because I figure, it’s not about camping, and tents, and poles and stoves. It’s about being in a magic place. I want to spend my time exploring, looking, feeling and living, instead of fighting with sleeping bag pouches that are too small, and which pole fits where.

Am I bonkers? Tell me about you!