Monday, 20 May 2013


So the run up to my fiftieth birthday earlier this year was traumatic enough, but now we have the run up to a reunion with our university friends and their partners – a joint celebration of all our fiftieths .  The arrangements have been rumbling on for some time, with the only fixed idea being that we are “glamping”.   Glamping is a form of luxurious camping, if that isn’t a contradiction in terms.

Annabel  finally managed to forge a consensus among us and to make a booking, but by this time, I was barely paying attention: “Whatever, Annabel – here’s the deposit.”.  We have opted to share accommodation with Nick and Jackie.  As the time approaches, I consult the website of the camping ground in Herefordshire.  I find it impossible to read aloud from it without assuming the voice of Neil – the hippie in “The Young Ones”. 

However, I now see that there is a vital difference between yurts and tipis.  The coded language on the website implies that tipis are perhaps more suitable for “hardened campers”, containing chimeneas rather than proper stoves and with smoke vents that have to be opened with poles from the outside.  The weather forecast isn’t good.  Suddenly it matters.

I ring Jackie,

“Are we in a yurt or a tipi?”

“I can’t remember.”

“The yurts look much nicer.”

“I expect we’re in a yurt then.”

Carenza has been passing through.  “Oh Mum, you’re so middle class.” She too mimics Neil – “Are we in a yurt or a tipi?”

But are we?
Drolls and Weirds - Robert had heard stories of beautiful fairy children reared by humans - they were called changelings - But of course, he did not believe in them. Read the next chapter of my story of love and mystery set in Cornwall by clicking here. Or read from the start.