Hurting for a Yurting

IMG-20130621-00204Quite honestly this may be the only kind of camping I ever do IMG_0491again. The kind of camping where there is a soft bed, a wood-burning stove and no chinese water torture leaks.

 For three nights we were our own medieval encampment.. knocking back healthy amounts of wine under a leafy green canopy, with the smell of wood smoke drifting through the trees. We cooked and ate on rough wooden benches, sat and put the world to rights around a fire pit and then nestled in the warm cocoon of the yurt when there was nothing left but embers. IMG_0514

There was no electricity, no wifi and no noise save some raucous birds and a distant hoot of a train. It was all a little magical and dreamy. And then we tried to come home. If I were to do it again then I wouldn’t chose something on the other side of the M25. We stayed in Rossetti. Beautiful and perfectly kitted out but dire directions and some draconian arrival rules.

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