Windy Island Handmade: Happy To Be Home

I am a self-confessed home bird. I am happy to stay on the island, hang around our cottage, go for walks down the same lanes and bake the same cakes. However, my children sometimes long for a little diversion in their lives and I have to force myself to provide it for them. One thing I haven't done with them since becoming a single woman again, over three years ago, is to take them on holiday. An oversight? Not really, more of a deliberate avoidance. But I could put it off no longer, so on Saturday morning, we loaded the car with tents, sleeping bags, dogs and biscuits and we set off for the mountains.

We arrived just over an hour later, full of optimism for a good holiday. The sun was shining and if it wasn't exactly hot then at least it was warm-ish. A stiff breeze accompanied us while we put up tents and set up our temporary 'home'. The boys were eager to swim in the river and Pea and I were happy to sit with the dogs for a while. MAL decided she wanted to join in and shot off in hot pursuit and jumped in with the boys. She wasn't meant to do that and I was quick to get her back again and on her lead. We have a kind of giant cork screw that goes in the ground and we attach leads to it so the dogs are tethered but we are free of holding on to them. A while later we went for a walk along the side of the mountain. Due to the high rain fall in the mountains, the path was very wet and there was a lot of water lying about. It is a very different kind of walking to that we are used to. We had to keep our eyes on our feet for fear of slipping on the rocks or ending up knee deep in a muddy puddle, so we missed a lot of the gorgeous views. However, when we stopped for breath it was worth a look.

Soon after that the sun dipped behind the darkening sky and the wind grew colder. It was about this point that I stopped enjoying myself. The dogs were not at all happy at their lack of home comforts and the pathetic little camping stove I had purchased for this holiday couldn't even boil a cup of water. So I had no tea. Unthinkable. And most inconvenient. In the evening we lit our camp fire and huddled round it, desperate for some warmth. The wind contrived against us and blew the heat away from us. We managed to toast a few marshmallows on knitting needles and I finally had a cup of tea by balancing the kettle on the fire.

Puppy had his first taste of toasted marshmallow, but he got most of it stuck on his chin and wasn't sure what to do with it. Both of the dogs were feeling put out by this time; cold and uncomfortable, they both tried to enjoy themselves but it just wasn't happening for them.

We went to bed early, just to get warm and for something to do. The rain started at about 11pm and went on all night. MAL slept with Pea and me in our tent and the boys shared with Puppy. The noise of the wind and rain unsettled the dogs and MAL curled up tight to me and felt better when I put my arm around her. I could hear H1 having problems with Puppy, who paced about and whined. I spent part of my night feeling very sick indeed. I had awful pains in my tummy, a headache and felt very hot. All I could think of was the ghastly, watery, slightly crunchy pot noodle I had forced myself to swallow for my tea. It was churning about inside me and I was convinced that I would be sick. I couldn't imagine how I would get out of the tent and dash across a field to the bathrooms in the dark. I remembered the dogs' bowls were outside and decided if the worst happened, I would use one for the stomach voiding if it became necessary. Thankfully it didn't. We all woke early to a very wet campsite.

In an effort to cheer us all up, I suggested a walk along the bottom of the mountain, through the trees. The sun peeped out briefly and warmed us up. The walk was going well until we came to a wooden ladder that we had to use to get over a high wall. MAL decided to just hurl herself over it and landed in a heap on the other side. H1 tried to lift Puppy over, but he panicked half way and copied MAL by launching himself from H1's arms and landed with a thud on the ground. He wasn't hurt but clearly it had shaken him up. Poor Puppy, he was not enjoying his holiday at all. We trudged back to the tent when it started to rain again. By this time I was sick and tired of the whole thing and just wanted to go home. Instead I suggested a trip to Beddgelert, just for something to do.

We discovered this amazing shop, full of woodcarvings and stuff. I love Beddgelert and have long nurtured dreams of one day buying myself a tiny cottage there and spending my life traversing the hills and paths around. It began to rain. It didn't stop. I couldn't even take any photos as it was too wet for my camera. The wood shop and a wasps' nest I found in the ladies' bathroom were the best bits of our very short holiday.

We packed up our little camp when there was a lull in the rain and we were home before 3 o'clock on Sunday afternoon. I was slightly disappointed at my pathetic attempt at giving my children a well deserved holiday, but also very relieved to be home. In fact we all were, especially the dogs. Puppy rolled about on the carpet, found his favourite spot in the dining room and fell asleep.

Camping is not really my thing. People go camping to get close to nature, to walk and enjoy the scenery, to read and talk. We are lucky enough to do that every day. Anyway, why would I ever want to leave all this behind...?