“It always rains on tents. Rainstorms will travel thousands of miles, against prevailing winds for the opportunity to rain on a tent.” ~Dave Barry
For our first night in Brittany, Olivier & I decided that we would do a night of camping. Being from Colorado, sleeping in a tent is something that is almost second nature. It was definitely something that I’ve been missing here in France & I mentioned to Olivier on a few occasions that I wanted to try camping here in France.
I had been warned by several of the French natives here that I wasn’t really missing out on anything, that camping in France just isn’t all that great. But, I hadn’t yet spoken to someone who had tried camping in Colorado & France & who could make a fair comparison. I decided that I would have to be that person.
YAY for me.
When we arrived at the campground, the first thing that I noticed was that the ground was flat. If it weren’t for all of the trees, I would have been able to see for miles.
Yeah…trees. Another thing that I’m still getting used to.
The next thing I noticed was the strange drops of water falling from the sky…it was…rain. Freaking rain! Well, yeah…Colorado is a bit dry & I hadn’t done much camping out in the rain.
Well, other than the time that a tornado almost blew my tent away while I was still inside it during a camping trip in South Dakota. Story for another day.
We drove around the campground & picked out a spot. It was the best spot in the entire campground. We couldn’t figure out why no one else had claimed it yet. We decided that it was obvious that they were all morons & that we were the smartest.
Of course, I had never pitched my tent next to a damn fence, but I figured that must be the way that Europeans enjoy the great outdoors.
We went to the office to check in. The crusty sea hag helpful employee at the desk informed us that we were set up in an area that was not a camping spot & that we shouldn’t have brought our cat with us without all of her papers. However, it seemed that she was more in the mood to nag us about the rules rather than actually enforcing them, so we gave her the 10 euros & went back out into the rain.
So, what is there to do when trapped in a tent out in the pouring rain with a cat & a big, hairy Frenchman?
Drink, of course.
We got a selection of regional booze: hydromel is brewed from honey. Hydromel is just French for mead. Boozy cider & a couple of choice beers.
Combine all of those in the right amount, throw in the cat, the hairy Frenchman, a wacky American & mix them all together inside a tent on a rainy night & you’ll eventually get this:
So, it’s true…camping in France just can’t compare to home. Although, I did get to eat food inside the tent without having to worry about being mauled by a fucking bear. I suppose that there’s something to be said for not being torn apart by a wild animal.
But…I think that I might have slept on the toad that we found underneath the tent in the morning.
[tags]France, Colorado, Bretagne, Brittany, camping, booze, hydromel, cider, beer, toad, cat, French, rain, campground[/tags]
Hahahaha — remind me to not sleep on a toad the next time I go camping.
There is something eerily reminiscent of “The Blair Witch Project” in those photos…you didn’t happen to find a bag of teeth nearby?
I laughed out loud at the bear reference since we had camped at King’s Canyon and awakened to find bear claws in the earth outside the tent… Yikes!
“Lions and tigers and bears. Oh, my!”
I hope that you two, three, had a great time.
Were those old men pissed that you camped on their lawn bowling green?
[…] turned out that there was plenty to in Brittany besides eating turkey sandwiches & boozing in a damp tent with a yowling […]
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