Monday, February 2, 2009
Camping at Tauranga Bay
I now know why I like camping so much. It has to do with not having to do housework! You see, on the campsite, you can cook outside your tent, eat outside or spill food all over, it doesn't matter.
I also lap up the luxury on not having to make beds, not having to do multiple loads of washing and no vacuuming. Clothes dry outside the tent on makeshift clothes line. If the clothes stink a bit, I don’t care. No one seems worried about being too clean.
At the camp ground, humans display their wide array of behaviour. Some tents are more tidy than others. Some people camp with their fridges and freezers. Some people have super duper tents, others have basic units. Some have fancy camper vans, others gargantuan mobile homes. Out on the campsite, my only worry is that the mossies or bugs don’t build their metropolis next to my bed inside the tent.
The OZtrail tent we bought did a splendid job of keeping us comfortable. Princess and I had one mattress to share. Hubby had another of his own. We read at night under our LED lights. Princess and the vampire Edward. Me and a man I once know and admired so much, a book about a true Malay gentleman. Hubby and a book he didn’t really enjoy.
Princess spent most of her days at the beach with her friends Imogen and Brittany, jumping waves and squealing a lot. I spent most of my days under the gazebo, reading, reading -- coffee -- reading-- pure bliss. Hubby spent most of his day in the sea in his kayak, or with his friend Marcus, hoping to catch more scallops, more snapper and more crayfish.
Out on the campsite at night, there is such amazing brightness with the moon in full attendance. The stars dress up the night sky in a dazzling veil of diamonds. All is quiet except the ‘trudge trudge trudge’ of my jandals as I make my way to the communal ablutions block.
Out on the campsite, at dawn, the sea sparkles in a brilliant bluish, greenish hue. The waves whisper hopes of a brave new day; a new beginning. The repetitive waves mirror the mundaness of life, but in each mundane movement, nothing ever stays the same. Everything changes - become relevant or irrelevant. You can't hurry the sea as it shifts its tides.
Out on the campsite, at dusk, the sky drips golden, magenta and almost lavender – a portrait of nature so beautiful your heart needs to skip a beat. Ah, this is the beauty of camping, you take the time not the miss this beautiful life.