By: Blonde Two
Today St Valentine has reared his head again (cue a stampede out of the door as most of you realise that you have neglected your loverly duties). It has always seemed a bit rubbish to me, to put St Val. into Feb. Most things should be banned from February, it is (I have just decided) a desolate and unforgiving month.
Dartmoor has its fair share of romantic sounding spots, Heart Tor, Lovers’ Leap, Yes Tor (what a great place for a proposal). It is a romantic place, maybe not the bogs, the mires or the mists (unless you are with someone with whom you would particularly like to get lost) but the skylarks, the sunsets and the soft peat grown grass can certainly add an air of relaxation and romance to a walk. And if you venture out at night, there are the moon, the stars and the shadowy tors to add love to your potion.
Lots of things lurk around Dartmoor though to dampen even the most amorous of adventurers’ ardour. Tent sleeping (aka staying awake all night) has never been particularly beneficial to my love life. For a start, these days, I mostly share a tent with Blonde One. We are good friends but there is a limit! Sleeping bags made for two exist and I would like to try one sometime but for now, there is no way that I am going to venture out of Big Orange for a bit of chilly midnight nookie. Sharing your campsite with twenty or so (also unsleeping) youngsters is another thing that can put the kibosh on late night shenanigans. If you are brave (and quiet) enough to ignore the possibility of being caught, lightweight backpacking tents are far to small to allow for comfortable cuddles, someone will always have to have their backside against the condensation/ice covered roof/wall/door.
Need I go on?
Okay, I will (too slow). Let’s get down to basics. When you have walked for six hours, you are not going to be at your most attractive scent-wise. Wet wipes are a god-send to all campers (thank you God) but even the most floral of such will surely not take away that fear of being a bit on the stinky side. You could both take a dip in the nearest river or Crazy sounding pool but, as Dartmoor waterways are seldom warm, that may prove to be a bit counter productive for the poor gentleman.
Please don’t get me wrong, I have had my fair share of Dartmoor based fantasies, none of which I am going to share with you. But these have been considerably outnumbered by Dartmoor based reality checks and I have definitely concluded that if it is Dartmoor romance that you want, a long walk followed by a room at the Prince Hall Hotel and a hot bath are the only way forward!
So Dartmoor is a non-nookie zone. Next stop Antartica where there’s no Prince Hall hotel Celibacy’s chill finger beckons. What happened to the force that crosses all boundaries?
No mention of Lorna and that unspeakable prig John Ridd with his rippling muscles. Secretly yearning for nookie. And Carver – his breast heaving with passion. But perhaps I’m in the wrong county. And on the wrong moor.
And always supposing that Antarctica hasn’t melted.
If it has melted then a handsome barge with silk curtains.
Mixed counties but definitely the wrong moor although Blonde One and I are heading off in that direction for a couple of days on Monday. Carver’s ending kind of strengthens my point.
I definitely wouldn’t get out of my sleeping bag in Antarctica but would possibly consider inviting a warm body in!
Don’t lose signal. Puh-lease!
Oh, you so have to check this book out!
http://www.amazon.com/Sex-Tent-Couples-Getting-Naughty/dp/0899974325
It popped up during an idle, and innocent (honestly!), search for camping/hiking books I made a few weeks ago, and made me laugh! No, I haven’t bought it!
That is very funny and, I think it should be a recommended read. Well done for such a good find.