It's these kind of things that make you feel tough, hard as nails, confident and mean- a fighting machine. And then you trip on a rock on the way back down and hurt your ankle and realise your probably not Demi Moore. Still, it's hardly our fault if any of us were disillusioned- we were hallucinating from lack of food. I mean, sorry, but who eats American Cheeseburger flavour crisps?? (Bleh!!)
Actually, then again, maybe the hallucination was from sleep loss- what sane person gets up at 6.15 in the morning to clean an industrial size kitchen?? Why? Just why?
I mean, I'm sure we can all agree that myself and my companions were not at all convinced we'd suddenly gained sixty pounds of muscle because of all the 'perceived risk' and numerous loopholes in the health and safety agreements which were kept well hidden under the great metaphorical carpet in need of hoovering. That would be ridiculous- we were all far too experienced and sensible. Honest.
Really- the camp was pretty cool, and drinking from a waterfall, scaling a rock face and sleeping under the stars sans tent or shower felt wild- and gave me an awesome set of bruises which go well with blues and purples, and make their own statement when I'm wearing white.
Sadly though, the fact that the most painful thing anyone did whilst I was there was me falling down the stairs in my socks sort of took away from the whole extreme element. Also, the proximity of the Co-op and the fact we weren't allowed into the park in case we got mugged did tend to take away from the whole Bruce Willis die hard idea.
But heck, laughing at Independence Day and getting glued to chicken run made us all feel better, so it was alright in the end.
I'd done the camp before, so I was expecting the whole sweat, bruises, rain and mozzie bites. I admit I'd forgotten how hard working in the kitchen was, and I swear now never to pursue a career as a chef, but otherwise, camp was as good as I remembered, if lacking the thrill of being able to go into the park across the road without being mobbed or sworn at. But hey- we got chocolate every day, and we got to see Shrek the four millionth and something, so all was right with the world.
As you can probably assume, this camp was just less impressive now I'm a bit older- but I'm glad to have done it again, to know I can still rise to the challenge, and there's one more thing I'm glad of.
I'm glad of the people I met- because that's the best part. Whether their shy or teddy like, Irish or Jewish, sunburnt or chatty- you can find out more about people when they get out of their everyday situation and onto a hill beneath the pouring rain than you can everywhere else. And do you know my general conclusion? Human beings are a pretty nice bunch. Everyones been through difficulty, everyone has random pet hates and love- and everyone I've met is just a little bit mad.
But all of them secretly, truly, want to be nice- to have friends, to be wanted. And so far, they all deserve it. (although I reserve the right to hold back friendship from creepy guys with cameras who look down my top when I shake their hand.)
Tomorrow I embark on an epic journey across the Atlantic ocean for 10 days. I don't know if I'll come back alive of covered in scars and tattoos like a proper sea dog- to be honest I think neither is likely. But I do know I'll have met 47 new people, and I hope I'll have learnt and liked something about each and every one of them. Maybe they'll even forgive me for sleep talking about Johnny Depp.
