Camping pisses me off. Now don't get me wrong, I've spent more time under canvas than most, because in my previous job, it was kind of expected. But camping when you don't have to, quite frankly, blows.
As you know, Brian (Bear) invited Pete and I to the Phillip Island Classic "Welcome Dinner" which I wouldn't have missed for the world. Sitting with him, the lovely Ev and his race team was fantastic, and rubbing shoulders with local and international motorcycle royalty, World GP and TT champions, listening to Alan Cathcart interview John McGuiness, (20 times Isle of Man TT winner, and he's only 40 years old!) hoping that Brian wasn't going to leap onto the adjacent table and throttle the folks who were talking loudly while we were trying to listen to the real entertainment, slowly sliding out of my seat after being constantly handed more free beer than a man should reasonably be expected to drink, all this will stay in my memory of things most enjoyed, for a long time.
The only downside was the necessity to organise some sort of overnight accommodation. Of course, there's not much hope of getting a nice hotel room locally because the PI faithfull book all of the available accommodation out every year. No biggie, I just decided to camp at the Island overnight, so I loaded my new "2 Person" tent, lightweight sleeping bag, foam mattress etc on to the mighty 'Wang, and away I went. After some minor problems on arrival (they weren't going to let me in as all the camp sites were booked out, but once again Brian saved the day) I pitched my tent beside Brian's new Caravan.
I've gotta say, my little tent looked cozy, so while I wasn't actually looking forward to the prospect of spending the night under canvas, I wasn't too "anti" either. Probably because of my military past, I chose a tent which was very low to the ground so instead of just walking into a bigger tent, it was necessary to pretty much lay down and sort of roll into it. Being old and fat and broken this wasn't as easy as I'd liked, but once I was in, it was OK.
I used one of those little "headlight" torches that allow you to shine the light where you're looking and thus leaving your hands free to attempt to get in and out of a sleeping bag whilst in the horizontal position, or to retrieve your glasses from underneath you in the middle of the night, or find the zipper for the door so you can roll back out (after only rolling in 5 minutes previously when all that beer tells you it's time for another piss) etc etc.
Once horizontal, it wasn't that bad, but the next problem was that the ground wasn't quite level, so I tended to slide off my mattress in the middle of the night. This happened about once every 15 minutes or so, so I entertained myself for the remainder of the night by sliding off, and then rolling back on, my mattress and retrieving my glasses after I kept sliding on to them. How they survived is just a testament to quality craftmanship. Needless to say, not much sleep was had, so I was a little less than happy when Brian berated me at 0815 for the fact that I was still in bed? Bastaard!
Now of course anything that you buy at the Phillip Island circuit will cost you about 400% of what you'd pay anywhere else, and the queues are approximately 5 miles long for anything to eat or drink anyway, but due to my excellent observation skills, I had a plan. I got out of bed, washed my face with some bottled water, put my jacket and helmet on, and rode back a few miles toward Melbourne to a little general store where I'd stopped the previous day for a coffee. I'd noticed that they had a breakfast menu, so decided that this would be where I'd enjoy my morning repast, while watching all the motorcycles parade past on their way to Motorcycle racing Valhalla.
The lady behind the counter (I was the first person there, so got served immediately, thanks for waking me up Brian!) suggested I try the "Big Breakfast" and while I wasn't starving after eating a nice meal with Brian and Pete at the dinner, I thought, why not? I also ordered a large cup of coffee, and enjoyed a cigarette or 2 while waiting for my meal.
Well eventually my "Big Breakfast" came out, and I almost fainted! If you know me, you'll know that I have a healthy appetite, especially for anything that will kill you. What was now in front of me, was something that should have been labelled with a health warning and a picture of some disgusting blocked internal organ. Holy shiit, there was two eggs, three or four (maybe more) full rashers of bacon, a couple of large hash browns, a pile of buttered toast, a piece of steak, a heap of buttered mushrooms, and a couple of fried tomatoes!
I did my best, but the lady still scolded me for leaving half behind. Seriously, I was that full I struggled to swallow my last couple of mouthfulls of coffee, and when I went to light another smoke, I discovered that I couldn't breathe! Anyway, good thing was that I didn't need to eat for the rest of the day, and thus saving myself from the sharks that have crawled out of the surf and into the cafes at the PI circuit.
Now normally I only ride to the Classic for the Sunday's racing, so on my way home with my tight belt and my poor sunburned face I asked myself whether I'd do it (camping) all again next year, and as much as I loved the welcome dinner and my massive breakfast, I really can't decide. I might have to do some research into alternative accommodation possibilities before I commit myself, because camping truly pisses me off!
