Perfect Pitch
I’m happy to announce that my husband and I have officially reached the point of maximum harmony and maturity in our marriage. I can gauge this accurately by the fact that we managed, on Saturday 21st June 2008, to pitch a tent together without breaking into muttered name-calling arguments and sniping at each other for the rest of the day. Not only that, but it was a brand new tent with clever bendy poles that criss-cross each other in amazing and innovative ways that reminded me of playing Twister at student parties. Quite an achievement, eh?
I have to admit though, we couldn’t have had better conditions: short grass, few stones in the ground, warm sunshine and just a gentle breeze, all in a stunning location by Ardmair Bay, with Ben Mor Coigach standing guard behind. An extra bonus was that there were no midges out, which saved lots of time normally spent doing that ancient traditional dance that involves flapping the hands, slapping the head and hopping about swearing.
The only downside of the pitch was the inevitable presence of ticks. We picked off four of the wee monsters, who’d obviously heard on the grapevine that Lee is an easy target. He’s been treated for Lyme Disease twice in the last year, so we showed no mercy.
We celebrated our remarkable achievement that evening with some extremely mature cider-drinking and cloud-gazing out of the tent door, after we’d wrestled for the rights to our preferred sleeping bag positions.
Tags: camping, west coast