Today’s choice for word prompt is “forest” and I was immediately put in mind of Robin Hood and his Merry Men who lived in the woods to evade capture by the Sherriff of Nottingham, although I’m rather wondering what on earth his men got up to that would make them merry. Personally, the thought of living in the woods would make me quite unhappy, what with all the creepy crawlies, the lack of shelter and all that goes with it.
Now, we all know that bears defecate in the woods, which is all well and good for them, but us humans, or at least most of us have been brought up differently, so I have no desire to leave traces of my excreta in the woods with a view to scaring off the other animals. I wouldn’t say boo to a goose, let alone try to shit on one, if you’ll pardon my French, as they say.
There is a website called Sawday’s which has interesting and different places to go for a holiday or a weekend away, some of which are fabulous and some are what I believe is called “glamping,” which is supposed to be “posh camping,” although it doesn’t appeal to me. One can stay in a “yurt,” which is basically one step up from an old World War Two bell tent in the middle of a farmers field.
I believe the idea is to get in touch with nature, to embrace the wind, the rain, the farmyard smells, obviously wellington boots are to be recommended for this sort of escapade. However, people leave glowing reports of their experiences, something like, “oh, Gerald and I had a wonderful time, we stayed in a yurt, we felt at one with nature, our hosts, Rosemary and John had thought of our every need.” “We so enjoyed the rustling of the wind in the woods and the outdoor shower with the bamboo curtain, together with the environmentally friendly composting toilet.”
Well each unto their own, but sleeping in a draughty old tent, having a freezing cold shower and defecating into a pile of wood chips, in the middle of a forest is not my idea of fun.
Time as usual has defeated me as I have to get ready, as we are going to a Forties event tomorrow which is taking place at Brooklands in Surrey, which was the first purpose-built motor racing track in the world, built in 1907. It has a banked track which you can hardly walk up and although not surrounded by forest, there were a considerable number of trees surrounding the track. Hard to imagine that men and women would risk their lives thundering round this track at horrendous speeds, for should they make an error or something broke on the car, they would shoot over the top of the banking and crash into the surrounding trees to their untimely death.
Those were the days, when men were men and indeed women were too!