Grumpy Old Guides

The Grumpy Old Guide To Camping – Part 1

A couple of years ago, Tim (aka Mr Grumpy) decided that he and Sonja should take up camping. This dazzling idea was born entirely out of financial prudence rather than any genuine desire to commune with nature. Tim’s view was simple: why pay for hotels when you could voluntarily sleep in a field with limited access to electricity and questionable toilet facilities?

His first, and utterly ridiculous, idea was to buy a TentBox: one of those fold-out tents that perch on top of the car roof like an oversized lunchbox. Tim proudly declared this would be warmer because they wouldn’t be sleeping on the ground. Unfortunately for him, Sonja immediately pointed out one rather glaring flaw in his masterplan: like many men of a certain age, Tim now needed nightly trips to the toilet roughly every two hours. The vision of him repeatedly climbing up and down a ladder in the dark, half asleep and clutching his pyjama bottoms….or worse still, sounded less like camping and more like an NHS visit waiting to happen.

Still, in the spirit of compromise, Sonja agreed to at least look at proper tents, despite knowing full well that their budget was never going to stretch to a caravan or motorhome – her preferred choice, naturally. After all, she had always maintained one simple rule in life: if there was nowhere to plug in a hairdryer, she had no intention of staying there.

So off they went to Go Outdoors, joining the ranks of middle-aged couples pretending to understand words like hydrostatic head rating while secretly just wondering whether the thing would leak in a light drizzle. Sonja wanted space, comfort and the ability to stand upright without dislocating a hip. Tim, meanwhile, prowled around clutching price tags and muttering things like, “We don’t need the deluxe inflatable version.”

Eventually, after much sighing and several passive-aggressive laps of the camping aisle, they settled on a two-room tent and approximately seventeen tonnes of associated equipment. Sonja insisted on a stove because there would be no surviving on cold baked beans and disappointment. Camping or not, proper meals remained non-negotiable.

Then came the camping toilet.

Several weeks before their first trip, Sonja quietly purchased what can only be described as a glorified bucket with a toilet seat attached to the top. It wasn’t glamorous. It wasn’t chemical. It certainly wasn’t luxury camping. But it was practical. Tim, however, still labouring under the delusion that he was Bear Grylls with a pension plan, mocked it mercilessly. According to him, “real campers” simply wandered into the bushes in the middle of the night.

Sonja ignored him entirely. The bucket was coming. End of discussion.

(And for any fellow grumpy old campers reading this who appreciate the idea of preserving both dignity and dry slippers at 2am, yes, the toilet bucket can absolutely be purchased on Amazon. Quite possibly mankind’s greatest invention after the electric kettle.)

Alfriston… here we come.

Alfriston is one of those English villages that seems to exist outside the rush of modern life. Nestled in the South Downs of East Sussex, it is a small town of winding lanes, historic cottages, and open countryside where the landscape appears to have changed little over the centuries. Perhaps representing an idealised vision of rural England which would definitely be at home on a chocolate box.

They arrived one early summer evening in 2024 to glorious sunshine accompanied by winds powerful enough to relocate small livestock. What followed was the sort of comedy usually only seen in low-budget sitcoms and Carry On films. Trying to erect a tent for the first time in a gale is a humbling experience. Tent poles bent alarmingly, guide ropes developed minds of their own, and at one point Tim briefly disappeared beneath several square metres of flapping polyester.  Sonja later suspected he’d found his way into the undergrowth to relieve himself, and somehow reappeared under the polyester. It was also apparent that “I’ll find a You Tube video” was not going to work – the mobile signal was typically weak in the countryside! The second piece of advise is to keep the paper tent erection instructions…..if you can keep a hold of them in a howling gale it proves useful.

Miraculously, and without actual talk of ending their relationship, they succeeded. In fact, they pitched the tent in what later became known as “a respectable time” – a figure Tim would thereafter insist on trying to beat during every future camping trip, as though tent erection were somehow an Olympic event.   It seemed from his desire to pitch the tent at breakneck speed that he’d yet to learn that an altogether slower pace of life was the way of things in Alfriston.

That night, Sonja barely slept, convinced the tent would either collapse, blow away entirely, or deposit them in France by morning. The wind battered the canvas all night while the tent flaps sounded like a flock of angry pigeons trying to get in.

Morning eventually arrived, calm, peaceful… and accompanied by one unavoidable discovery: a full bucket.

Yes. That bucket.

Sonja, who had refused to leave the warmth and perceived safety of her sleeping bag all night, had contributed absolutely nothing to its contents. Tim, however, had apparently embraced the convenience of their ‘ensuite facilities’……many times!

Naturally, Sonja seized the opportunity to mercilessly remind him of every sarcastic comment he’d made before the trip. To his credit, Tim eventually admitted that the toilet bucket had been an excellent purchase. In fact, after many camping adventures since, it has become one of their most treasured pieces of equipment.

Proof, if ever it were needed, that age brings wisdom… and an increased appreciation for portable toilets.

We were pitched up at Alfriston Camping Park in East Sussex.  It’s a lovely, smallish campsite with a great shower block – something very much appreciated by Mrs Grumpy.  Though she was not so appreciative of the fact Mr. Grumpy had not secured one of the very few ‘electric pitches’ and her hair would remain like a scarecrow for the duration of their stay!

The River Cuckmere flows to the rolling chalk cliffs that define this corner of southern England.  There are a network of footpaths that weave through the downs, a mixture of fields and woodlands and riverside trails. A long walk on our first morning took us from the campsite through the downs, fields and riverside trails, eventually bringing us to Cuckmere Haven, and the welcoming site of The Cuckmere Inn.  Saying it was not as quiet as Alfriston was quite the understatement – in fact it is a very popular destination for visitors.  Tim headed to the bar, in desperate need of toilets and ale after the long walk, leaving Sonja to try and grab a table in the garden whilst crossing her legs!  Securing an empty table in a busy pub garden is the social equivalent of musical chairs, except the music never stops and nobody agrees on the rules.  Nevertheless, mission was accomplished quite quickly – and with bums on seats, drinks in hand, snacks on order, the Grumpies declared “what a lovely day” completely forgetting the miles of walking they needed to do to get back to the campsite! 

By the time they got back, further liquid sustenance was required, and they headed to the heart of Alfriston.  The village is occupied by timber-framed buildings, independent shops, and welcoming pubs and cafés.  The sight of the Smugglers Inn was welcome, and a snack and a drink, or two was enjoyed…..as ordered by the WiFi password!

The “bucket” had undoubtedly helped the weekend go smoothly!

The Alfriston Camping Park gets the Grumpy thumbs up! https://www.alfristoncamping.com/

The bucket gets the Grumpy thumbs up! Leisurewize Need-A-Loo Portable Toilet, Bucket-Style Toilet with Carry Handle, 32cm x 37cm (LWACC310) : Amazon.co.uk: Sports & Outdoors

Camping Exploits – Part 2 will bring you Midnight Mole Hill Mishaps, Burning Tables, Guide Rope Limbo and Competitive Erections. Don’t forget to subscribe for free to be notified when part 2 is published!

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