By: Blonde Two
Yep, I know, “bunkhousing” is not a real word but the alternative verbs just don’t quite work. For example, housebunking sounds like a strange game where neighbours move into each other’s homes. “Bunkhousing” is therefore, my word of the week and refers to the act of staying in a bunkhouse (we Blondes are doing just that this week). For those of you who have never done this, a bunk house is a bit like a tent except that people sleep on top of each other (in bunks), there are actual real live pillows, you can get to the toilet without crossing wet grass and All-Sorts-Of-Strangers are allowed to move in with you.
The All-Sorts-Of-Strangers thing can be a mixed blessing. Usually they are friendly types who are up for a natter and a shared cocoa with a couple of Blondes but even the most friendly of them tend to snore. The snoring can be an issue, you can forgive a good friend the occasional snort but an All-Night-Nose-Symphony from a complete stranger can be less than acceptable.
Our Young Leaders plus The Bearded Wanderer are coming “bunkhousing” with us this week and we are all keeping our fingers crossed that (as in previous years) we will have the place to ourselves. This bunkhouse, you see, is very unusual and has a really large, comfy sofa. It would be a huge shame to have to share it with the All-Sorts-Of-Strangers. Our lads have come up with a couple of ideas of how to scare everyone else off the sofa, I can’t describe them to you in case you have nightmares but I will let you know how we get on.
I have had some experience of those places. My advice: take a tent and camp outside – best of both worlds, avoiding snoring symphonies (AND WORSE), and being able to use the cooking facilities and shelter from bad weather if needs be. Bothies in Scotland are a bit different – I have stayed in a few. After a long lonely hard day backpacking, in bad weather you approach with a sort of double anxiety, firstly hoping you will have the place to yourself, but then welcoming the idea of a bit of company, but the danger of the latter is that you get saddled with some nerd, or some “expert” guy who wants to tell you how to do everything. He will also tell you where you went wrong on your route to get there and then overrule your proposed route for the next day – you’ve got me going now – better get on with my breakfast.
very similar but perhaps not quite so luxurious as the ‘matratzenlagen’ of alpine huts (french – dortoir?) which linger in the memory – not just for the name itself –
there one lies prone in a 50cm wide slot, lined up on a giant and often hard and lumpy mattress with sometimes twenty or thirty others – boys and girls together – hut etiquette supposedly inhibits closer intimacy but most can remember the 2am start being enlivened by the gigging ‘next door’ of those ‘going down’ (to the valley, of course) – usually hot and stuffy when the hut is busy but bitterly cold if not
with the mixed blessing of the food/cooking being provided by the warden – fire precaution – and revenue stream, of course – which makes the plod upwards more bearable
Loved bothies walking across Scotland – especially the Beehive – had it all to myself, K9 and the deer outside. But bothy beds are hard, wooden and very good for aching backs. You take your own pillow-fight equipment.