Slowly we’re beginning to relax into our holiday and every now and then I’m enjoying a near perfect experience.
This morning after a pleasant – yes it was really was – 5k run through idyllic Dordogne countryside – fields of sunflowers, that kind of thing – we relaxed by the campsite piscine.
Twenty lengths in the quiet, generous sized pool followed by a dip in the jacuzzi and a coffee in the sun dappled shade of the campsite bar. Bliss!
All this followed a turbulent night when our supposed luxury inflatable bed which even has a headboard slowly deflated. At 2am I woke to find myself a good 12 inches nearer the ground than when I dropped off.
I now had to reach up to the bedside lamp rather than down. I had to roll out of bed – rather than step – for my daily early morning old man prostate pee.
I lay there for a while trying to convince myself that this deflation was in my mind rather than in my bed but then Mrs Jones awoke to confirm my worst fears. Her every toss or turn of unleashed a tsunami heading my way.
From a first world perspective there is a little worse I would argue than not being able to sleep in a dark, cold tent. Hours seem like days until morning breaks when you can finally end this hell and what is more every cough, fart and snore of your fellow campers seems amplified.
Miraculously I did manage to drop off for an hour or so before waking to discover that I was about to be swallowed whole by the bed.
It’s the third holiday in a row this has happened. I like to tell myself it’s because of all the action these beds see but truth is they are clearly not designed for anything more than occasional use.
Later today I’ll attempt to locate and fix the puncture but I’m not too hopeful. My hunch is that one of the seams split when I was pumping it up. Thankfully we can sleep in the van but somehow it’s not quite the same.
Clearly none of this affected my enjoyment of this morning and now lunch is looming.
A beautiful French baguette with pate, ham, brie, tomatoes, all washed down with a couple of glasses of Bergerac red. Bliss again until the wasps inevitably appear to continue my up and down day of camping heaven and hell.