A Summer Night at Housedean Farm Campsite

Let me paint you a picture, it’s summertime, the season of beaches, barbecues, and ambitious attempts at “escaping to nature” that start off all proper zen and usually end with someone cursing the ground for being just too… well, ground like

Enter our grand plan: M and I decided to hit up Housedean Farm Campsite for a quick, rustic getaway. Just one night. The plan was to unwind, reconnect with the outdoors, and sleep under the stars, or, more realistically, just a sturdy tent roof with one missing peg haha

Now, Housedean Farm is, first off, an absolute gem. The landscape is basically Pinterest Board: Cozy Countryside—rolling fields, fresh air, and just the right amount of rustic charm. I have to give it to them, they’ve nailed the “camping without too much actual dirt” vibe. The ground is really firm enough that putting in tent pegs doesn’t feel like an arm wrestling match with the planet, which was a real blessing. (Honestly, is there anything more spirit breakin than hammering bent ass pegs into rocky soil?)

M came prepared, bless her, loading us up with snacks. She had it all, crisps, chocolate, a whole stash that would’ve rivaled any child’s party bag. I, on the other hand, brought enthusiasm, slightly wrinkled clothes, and drive to get the tent up. I completely didnt realise that a blow up mattress would. be needed, which we both regretted about five minutes into our attempt to fall asleep. Because, as it turns out, nothing says “restful night” quite like sleeping on what felt like lumpy concrete with an especially vengeful pebble lodged right under my back

By around 3a.m or so, I had the realization that went something like, “Well, it’s only a ten-minute drive home, so…” We did what any city people would do, temporarily pretending to be rugged outdoorspeople would do. We packed up the essentials (so, basically just the snacks) and made a graceful, well, maybe just hasty exit

The tent? Yep, left that behind, propped up like some abandoned monument to our brief, glorious foray into nature. I’d love to say we left it there to become some sort of enterprising squirrel community, but we packed it up the next day before heading to Bristol

But in all seriousness, that night was kind of magic. I know, it sounds a bit cliché, but being out there with M, surrounded by quiet fields, fresh air, and not a single honking car, it was this strange, wonderful reset. There’s something wholesome about it, even if we were ill prepared and bailed early. It’s so easy to get caught up in the noise and routine of the city, and a little nature, and yes, even a lumpy night on hard ground, reminded me how important it is to slow down and appreciate the simple things

So that’s my little tribute to Housedean Farm Campsite, and a shout-out to M for being a snack hero. Next time, I’ll remember the blow up bed, maybe try for two nights, and who knows, even stay till sunrise. But for now, here’s to spontaneous, slightly chaotic escapes and all the memorable little moments they bring