Growing pains

It sometimes takes perseverance to camp, especially if it is your first time and the weather gods don't play along, says Helena Hattingh.

-  Helena Hattingh.

The start of the December holidays had me helping my fiancé Frikkie Le Grange pack his Ford Figo to the roof. We were young and enthusiastic about our first camping trip alone, without the comforts of my parents’ off-road camper and its luxuries like a stove and fridge.

We were practically bubbling with excitement when we left that morning. These few days of camping alone required much planning. We had already purchased a tent, but that was the extent of our list. So we’d gone on a shopping spree to buy the other essential items, things like a fancy new folding table and a gas stove.

The car’s interior was boiling hot – Frikkie had strict rules about when to use the air-conditioning. But I kept quiet, since the car “struggled too much” on the hills of the R712 as we approached the eastern section of the Golden Gate National Park.

I rolled down the window and could smell the freedom as I watched the grass rippling in the wind. Frikkie smiled at me as my eyes swept over the landscape. I was hoping to see a gazelle pricking its ears at the sound of the car – a welcome, one might say. But the wildlife didn’t show up in the summer heat.

ONCE AT THE CAMPSITE, we decided on a stand in a hollow under a large willow tree, which would offer some protection from the scorching heat. Decent shade is the golden rule for good summer camping, right?

We pitched the tent and calmly unpacked all our new camping gear. After a long day’s driving, we were aching for a good cup of coffee. Frikkie removed our brand-new gas stove from its box and tried the trigger so the flame would ignite, but alas…