Words: Andrea Ferris
CAMPING CONUNDRUM
Photo: Megan Willis Photography.
W
e bought a caravan. There, I’ve come out on these hallowed pages dedicated to camping. But whoa back, before you chuck the magazine down on the kitchen table in disgust muttering infidel and traitor and stomp out to the shed to waterproof the canvas and count the tent pegs, tell me this; what actually constitutes camping and what makes me (and you) a camper? It was an unusual week, the one where TOH and I drove 1000 kilometres to collect our second-hand caravan. On the Monday I threw a tent and a small bag of gear onto my motorbike to accompany my intrepid friend on the first leg of her epic solo bike journey to the Flinders Ranges, Alice Springs, Darwin and back to the Sunshine Coast in Queensland. We camped overnight at Lake Broadwater Conservation Park just outside Dalby. I’d made a beef stew before leaving home that we heated on the Trangia and ate sitting companionably around a small, but cosy, fire listening to the gentle lapping waters of the lake. I woke at dawn, after a chilly and restless night in a sleeping bag that is rated for zero degrees, which it wasn’t, but was a bit light for my comfort, to indulge in some rising sun photography. Six days later, TOH and I were sitting around a fire at Stookies Corner, a free bush camp on the banks of the Moonee River probably twenty kilometres as the crow flies from Lake Broadwater. The final night of a four-day journey to Dubbo and back to take possession of the caravan. 6 |
GO CA MPING AUSTR A LI A
Camping in a caravan at Stookies Corner near Tara, Qld. Photo: Andrea Ferris.
And this is where the definition of camping conundrum was raised. Sure, I had cooked a meal on a larger gas cooker than a Trangia; yes, the beer came out of a fridge; and I certainly was looking forward to sleeping under a warm doona on a real mattress—but were we ‘camping’? Home again and, after parking the caravan on the front lawn for the neighbours to admire, I headed straight for the worldwide web to justify our purchase (and my job). First stop Wikipedia (the guru knowledge point for everything). Search: ‘camping’. Result: ‘Camping is an outdoor recreational activity. The participants (known as campers) leave urban areas, their home region, or civilisation and enjoy nature while spending one or several nights outdoors, usually at a campsite. Camping may involve the use of a tent, caravan, motorhome, a primitive structure, sporting camp or no shelter at all.’ There it was; hot running water, shower, toilet, queen-size bed, I’m still camping—except if you are a compiler at the Oxford Dictionary. According to a dictionary with 150 years of heritage and more than 250 language specialist researchers camping is: ‘The activity of spending
a holiday living in a tent.’ Hark, camper trailer owners, technically you’re not camping either. Let’s try Google. Search: ‘camping’. Result: ads for camping stores. (Why am I not surprised?) Google search #2: The origins of the noun ‘camp’. Result: ‘ … early 16th century: from French camp, champ, from Italian campo, from Latin campus ‘level ground’, specifically applied to the Campus Martius in Rome, used for games, athletic practice, and military drill. (Well, it does come close to war at times when TOH is backing the van into a tight space and I’m directing …). A decider was needed, so to the bookshelf and the Aussie Macquarie Dictionary. Search ‘camp’. Result: A group of tents, caravans, or other temporary shelters in one place. Readers, my job and reputation as a camper is intact. Put your fundamentalist camping snobbery away; caravans, fifth-wheelers, RVs, tents, camper trailers, swags, roof-top tents, hammocks, tarps thrown over a tree—whatever. When we’re in a temporary shelter, away from home, sitting companionably around a campfire, we’re camping—and loving every minute of it! Happy camping (whatever way you want to)!
Andrea Ferris, Editor andrea@vinkpub.com www.gocampingaustralia.com.au