I WANT to go camping. I want to tie the bulky suitcases onto the roof rack of a Dolomite Sprint and drive to a camping site. I’d study the route the night before to reduce the amount of wrong turnings and prevent late arrival.
The vital thing about my camping trip is that it has to have some important other campers on the site. These campers are essential for my amusement, vital for keeping me entertained, and a must for my perfect camping experience: I want these significant other campers to be the Carry On Camping crew. I’d be more than happy to pay Mr Fiddler three whole pounds to make sure I can pitch my tent at a location where I’d get a jolly decent view of all the naughtiness and sauciness.
Kenneth’s prudish attitude would make me want to sneak a few top-shelf dirty magazines into his tent – I’d then devise a cunning plan for the busty Miss Haggard to enter his tent and find them. It would be entertaining watching Kenneth stuttering through a plea of innocence whilst all the campers observe.
I’d giggle watching Sid scheming his way into Babs’ tent whilst trying to avoid getting caught by his girlfriend.
I’d be intrigued by the closely packed three-in-a-tent situation involving Peter, Harriet and the Scrawny Man.
In the mornings, I’d look forward to having a cup of tea and observing the exercise class, run by Kenneth, whilst sitting in my camping chair. I can say, shamelessly, that I’d be keeping a very close eye on Babs during the exercise class – a flying bra that lands in the face of the prudish Kenneth is much more fun that anything else that flies through the air!
The only time I’d venture outside the boundaries of the camping site is when I’m taking a stroll down the country lane; my spot for taking a short break would be close by the Farmer’s house – from there I’ll observe every male traveller who knocks on the door and is angrily questioned by the suspicious Farmer – will the Farmer ever find the traveller who gave his daughter a bit and got her pregnant?
The low point would be having to leave – pulling the tent down and loading the suitcases back onto the roof rack of the Dolomite. There would be an aura of sadness as I wave goodbye to the Carry On campers and begin to navigate down the narrow country lanes until I eventually get to the motorway. Reality would really kick-in when I arrive back home knowing the naughtiness and sauciness had come to end.
Watch Kenneth lead the morning exercise by clicking the image below
Like a bit of 70s and 80s nostalgia? Get you hands on the hardback with enough clout to send you flying back to the 80s and 70s: Section N Underpass. Get the rundown by clicking the photo below:
