In my younger days I used to go hither and thither with my trusty chum and our five man canvas tent.
Our favourite place to go was the Lakes. We would get the bus to Keswick from Newcastle and spend a few days over there before hauling the bloody thing back again.
One Easter, disaster struck and we were at an awesome camp site at Ashness Bridge. The temperature plummeted and we were stuck. Blizzards whirled around us and we decided to sit it out.
One morning after surviving a night on Kendal Mint Cake and Hypothermia we were awoken by a knock on the door.
A policeman stood there shivering. He told us to get out as we were loitering Within Tent.
Get it, Loitering within tent…. Okay I’ll get my coat.
Bogenwald 
Well it made me smile! 🙂 My camping nightmare occurred when I was touring in Scotland by motorbike with my mate! He was the seasoned camper and he set the tent up at Ullapool very close to a stony beach, but with the doorway in the lee of the wind to keep us cosy. Well, by the middle of the night the wind had switched direction and ripped out the line holding the tent up. We had to collapse the tent in the driving rain and get stones off the beach to weight it down and keep it in place. We spent the night in our sleeping bags on the floor of the toilet block, accompanied by the entire Daddy Longlegs population of the west coast of Scotland! It still gives me the shivers when I think about that!
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