Camping

Camping has to be a mild form of mental and physical torture. It should be used to extract information out of terrorists. At first it's all fun and games then after around 12 hours the realisation dawns that you are basically under a few millimeters of canvas that may or may not leak rain depending on your tent erecting ability and the airbed that you have just bought will slightly deflate 2 psi every half hour or so resulting in the most horrific night's sleep since sharing a bunk bed with pissy Pete on a hostel tour on a German school trip.
Trying to light a gas stove in a force 10 gale just to boil a tiny kettle to make a cup of tea is like trying to thread a rope through a tiny needle while a small child holds a bunsen burner under your gusset. It's pointless and will inevitably end in tears.
Needing a pee in the night when camping is always a test for anyone. First of all you have to get out of your warm sleeping bag,  off the now semi deflated air bed and locate your footwear (usually flip flops) in almost complete darkness. Then you have to unzip your tent as quietly as possible so you don't wake anyone. Once you have disembarked your tent in the most stylish way possible whilst wearing a onesie and a kagool you have to quickly gain your night vision. Once your eyes have adjusted generally the best spot for a wee is behind your own tent if there are no trees available. Absolutely nobody wants to make the long walk like your'e in a vietnam based war film to the campsite toilets. The horrors that can be found in there at 3am could kill a man who possess a sense of smell and eyes. Why is it acceptable to leave a bag of rancid nappies next to a sink or write 'help me' in shit on the toilet wall in a campsite loo just because there is no toilet roll? These people are animals. Once you locate a suitable place for a wee pray to the large intestine Gods that your body doesn't decide it also needs a poo because when that happens it's game over.
The amount of days you decide to camp for is key. Any more than two and i may as well go feral and decide that changing my pants is an optional extra that i can't be bothered with any more. My hair resembles a badly built bird's nest with actual bird shit in it and i've developed trench foot, the likes of which haven't been seen since the Somme. Any more than two days and i may as well tell family and friends i've decided to go off grid and live as a hermit dining on whatever i can catch with my bare hands or forage from a lay-by bin.
You may realise by now that i'm not a fan of camping. My kids love it but i like those posh tents with heating, carpets and walls...you know...hotels.
Camping is not for me but i realise other people love it. It's a way of life for some and i salute those people.