Wednesday, January 12, 2011

Mountain campsite

Here are some photos of the place where I camped. 


There was thick forest all around, giant ferns behind my tent, and an incredible view of hills, peaks and the river below. At night, there were millions of stars in a myriad of constellations to admire. And the hill-top fields came equipped with four horses, which snorted and grazed around my tiny tent at dawn.

When I first heard the snorting, my first reaction was that there was a large wild cat sniffing at the tent, so I immediately started hissing myself (in retrospect, I'm not sure this would've deterred it anyway!). Then I realised the noise must belong to the horses. I just hoped that they wouldn't trip over the guy rope, think my tent was something soft to lie on or try to hurdle over me (the possibilities of getting squashed inside a flimsy tent seemed endless). Big wild cat or four horses, I'm not sure what's more dangerous.

As can be expected, nothing happened, and I got away unscathed.

However, I did still have to get out of my tent quickly.

The rising sun, which had just touched the tent, had within minutes made the environment inside as hot and steamy as a turkish bath, with beads of condensation dripping onto me. All lit up in bright fluorescent green. The aroma of over-ripe squashed bananas and muddy socks added a certain je ne sais quoi to to the experience. In summary, all très chic.




The first thing I'd do after crawling through the impossibly small side flap was to go for a swim in the river down below, which I'm sure made me look (and smell) more respectable.

Then I'd go off exploring (next post).