Camp Erskine 2008

The Erskine Design team, or at least Colly, Greg, Chris, Phil, Simon, Angela, Beavis and I camped for the weekend in Robin Hood's Bay near Whitby this weekend, a fantastic time was had by all. A sun-drenched, cider soaked success.

The 1970's Datsun, Greg Wood, Colly and Angela Campbell.

I have created a Camp Erskine 2008 flickr set that documents at least some of the action, I’m sure the others will too. I think perhaps a timeline is the best way of describing the activity.

Ten Hundred Hours, Friday 26th September:

Chris arrived at my house in his car, we proceeded to collect Phil from Beeston Sainsbury’s where we stocked up on essential supplies such as milkshake, beer, plastic cups and a Kit-Kat.

Fourteen Hundred Hours, Friday 26th September

Chris, Phil and I met Colly and Greg at Whitby Abbey. Colly arrived in his 1970’s Datsun, which to be fair did make it. We then proceeded to chat and take photos then minced down 199 steps to Whitby - and it’s pubs.

Whitby

In Whitby we drank, walked to the beach, ate a fish pie, two lasagnes, a crab salad and some scampi all with chips, and decided that we had better find a campsite or it could be a long night in the previously mentioned 1970’s Datsun. The Campbell’s had been in contact - they were on their way.

The Campsite

We arrived at the campsite reception at dusk where Colly received a huge lecture about group bookings and how they always disturb other visitors. We had been warned. We would be careful. A short drive delivered us to the far corner of the campsite where we were delighted to be away from almost everyone else. Super. Time to get the tents up in the dark, a feat made even more difficult by the fact that I had left my tent poles 140 miles away in my house in Nottingham. Shit. Fortunately the Campbell’s are fully tooled-up campers and there was room in their tent for them, Phil, Greg an Myself.

Fully Erect

All tents were erected in record time with the minimum of fuss, due in part to Greg’s head mounted torch. I then started to drink cider, an act I would later regret as I ran barefoot across the campsite in the early hours to hunch over an available receptacle. While we drank, chatted and laid out sleeping gear Colly continued to work on his famous and abundant stew. It was as delicious as he said it would be, so much so that I was a little disappointed to see it disappear down the toilet some hours later along with a lot of cider that my stomach had simply refused to deal with.

The Pub

We decided to walk the farm track through the woods (and a lot of cow shit) to Robin Hood’s bay where we could bask in the warm glow of a friendly seaside pub and top up our alcohol levels indoors. My memory of this period of the evening is a little hazy but as far as I know I had fun.

The Morning After

The next morning the sun shone, breakfast sizzled on the camping stove and we couldn’t believe our luck - the end of September in England and it’s t-shirt and shorts time. To my enormous amusement I then discovered that during the night Beavis, the Campbell’s Labrador, had wriggled free of the tent, got into the porch area of Chris’s tent, and swiftly disposed of an entire packet of cooked, sliced beef. Fantastic. I thought she looked pleased with herself.

After

After that the trip consisted of outdoors, seaside, ice cream, beer, really good fish and chips, some men singing sea shanty’s and collecting money for RNLI, dogs, cars turning around in inappropriate places, crabs (in a good way), drinking, steak, mushrooms, figs with parma ham, cakes and the pub.

I don’t think I need to elaborate further. Absolutely fantastic.

No comments yet.

Glen Swinfield’s Website v2.0