Simplicity
If we’re being absolutely honest, camping is not romantic. It’s mosquitos and dirt and greasy hair and baby wipes instead of showers. And you can believe me when I say it took me a day or two to get used to it. Even though my mum and dad used to take me on camping trips, it’s been ages since I last slept in a tent. In Tasmania you’re allowed to camp everywhere (as long as there’s no sign saying ‘no camping’. Obviously.) and there are many free campsites where you at least have a toilet. I bought my tent, my sleeping bag and my camping cooker along with a pot and a pan in an op shop for just 18 euros. (Again, how good are op shops?!) With camping, I realised, your whole life revolves around ‘Where am I going to sleep tonight?’, ‘What am I going to eat today?’ and ‘Do I need a shower or will a bottle of deodorant and a hat get me through the day?’. But once you get used to looking awful and you realise no one gives a shit, because everyone lo...