Whatever that means
Aye, camping for softies. A wee hut up a hill on the shore of Loch Tay. Just outside Killin (strange town). It’s got a heater, a fridge, a microwave and a telly. All mod cons. Kids love it but then it’s like an adventure when you’re young. But what kind of camping do you call that? It’s probably just as well. The weather’s foul – wet and blowing a hoolie. Still, we brought some games (Snap! etc) so at least that’s entertainment for Saturday’s kids.
I’m hoping my brother and his missus will turn up soon and give me my dinner. I’m hungry. If he gets here soon he’ll at least be the six o’clock hero. An hour late. A wee beer and some peanuts while I’m waiting, watching the setting sons. A start!