“They will die, they will die, they will die” – Withnail and I
Does the use of National Parks for our camping mean that we are complete eco tourists following the lead of those who know what is best for the environment? Or are we just after a cheap camp site?
I would like to think I was leaning towards the former. After all, I am notorious for my very careful recycling system at home, much to the raised eyebrows of Shileen, and the occasional groans of Darren. I also don’t like to kill anything, including insects. Should staying at a National Park camp site require you to keep your tread light, and let the natural order of things subsist? Well, I thought so… however, when it came to the mosquitoes that were at the shower and toilet blocks at Dalhousie springs, I realised all that had to be put to one side. Even going to the loo would put you in the line of fire of the mossies, and there were many war stories around the campfires there, of bitten bums for brief relief.
Darren had warned me that the showers were as bad. However, I was not going to in there without a fight. I was determined to have a shower. I needed one I was sure, and I was not going to be beaten back by a 5cm flying syringe.
A shower I needed, and a shower I would have. I was goin’ in…
Darren looked pretty impressed by all this talk, until, as I was saying it, I pulled out of the cupboard the yet unused can of mosquito spray. Yup, I was goin’ in.
I felt a bit sheepish going towards the shower block (middle of the day – less mosquitos) carrying this enormous can of spray. I hid it under my towel, thinking that the release of all these toxic chemicals was hardly a way to behave in a National Park, and perhaps I should not be seen with such a weapon of what I hoped would be, mass destruction. Fortunately there was no one around, or I don’t think I would have had the courage to unleash the can on them.
I peered into the shower space. They are lovely and clean, don’t get me wrong, however I could see that Darren had not been exaggerating that there were a large number of bloodsuckers that planned to shower with me. I was not going to beaten, I was going to have that shower, and nothing would stop me.
I stuck me head out of the cubicle for one last check for any eco campers around, and took a deep breath.
PSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTT
PPPSSSSSSSSSSSSSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
And another for good measure …
PPPPSSSSSSSSTSTSTSTTSTSTSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT
PSSST PSSSSST PST
I ducked back out of the cubicle, and let the mist settle, and tried to look very ho-hum and nonchalant as someone went into one of the loos.
After about 30 seconds I looked in the cubicle. No movement. I moved forward and locked the door behind me, still holding the can of spray, ready for anything. I got undressed using one arm – no mean feat.
PSSSSTTT, PSSSST
Got the final 2 mosquitoes I could see –
Victory would be mine! Cleanliness would prevail!
I got the shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and facial cleanser all ready in the shower and slowly put down the can ready for …
cold water… No hot tap? No…hot….tap?
Now, I am as happy as the next person to have a cold shower, when I am expecting a cold shower. But this? This was such a let down. All that effort! All that murder of mossies, for nothing?
PSSST – just got another in time.
I turned on the water anyway, but it felt uber cold to the war weary; I just didn’t have the heart to go through with it. Beaten back at the last line of barbed wire, I had to retreat to the safety of the caravan, hoping that there would eventually be cleaner times ahead for me.
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