Wild Camping.

People may think that describing our night away as Wild Camping may be a slight stretch when it involved the camper, a king size duvet, and waking up to a peppermint tea. However, it was Wild Camping non the less.



We decided to head across the ferry one evening to Studland, a stunning area of Dorset that sits just across the water from the busy Sandbanks peninsular.

Parking the van up at the side of the road, we grabbed a couple of rucksacks full of food, blankets, and iPods and headed across the bracken to find a private beach to watch the sunset from. 

Just down the beach, stood a bell tent with a fire. On the other side of us sat the houseboats that grace the water through the summer. 

The sky was a blaze of red, slowly getting darker and darker as the sun set beyond the horizon, and we lay on the beach until the water rose and touched our toes, and the stars shone brightly above us. 

Eventually we scrambled our way back to the camper, where I attempted to make the bed up in the dark, bar the slight light of the fairy lights that have inevitably made their way around the windows. (The engine battery has been playing up recently, and despite knowing that the leisure battery and the engine battery are completely separate entities - I still have a fear that if I use the 12 volt, I won't be able to start the engine again...) 

After a fight with a 13.5 tog King size duvet (a stupid idea) and giving up on finding where I had cleverly hidden the bed sheet earlier in the day (in the obscure basket hidden under the sofa, as I found out the next morning) we clambered into bed to settle down for the night. 

Seemingly, gritters (it's August. Why there are gritters on the road, I have no bloody idea) decided 2am was the perfect time to grit the roads - however, being woken up by orange flashing lights at such an hour, I instantly thought I was being towed. 

Eventually, after getting over the idea that we weren't about to be dragged away on the back of a lorry, and that of course Dorset needed to grit the roads in the middle of summer, we managed to get back to sleep until the following morning when we were awoken by a parade of classic Mercedes, fresh off the ferry and heading for Swanage. 

One of my favourite things about being in the camper, and it may seem the silliest of things, is brushing my teeth. You just grab a bottle of water, stand out in the sunshine, and watch the world go by, not knowing what the day has in hold, where you are going, or what you are going to discover, while partaking in the most mundane of tasks. 

We spent the day exploring the coast line, playing in the water, and sleeping under the sun - before catching the ferry back across the half a mile of water, to the busy hubbub of Poole town.

If you are going to wild camp over at Studland, make sure you stay harbour side, rather than on the National Trust side, and as ever, leave only footprints.