My boyfriend and I tramped home from Great Outdoors laden down with bags and feeling like a couple of novices. No change there, then, said my mother. We'd spent a couple of hours in the shop, marvelling at the climbing gear and the surf clothes and the penknives while more experienced outdoor types rushed around, ruddy of cheek and fit of body, as if they owned the place.
My boyfriend is a bit dubious about our holiday, concerned that he won't be able to take a shower every day or that he might find the tent claustrophobic. We are going walking and camping in France and Spain. You could say a lot of things about this proposition, but nobody could accuse us of being unprepared.
When I told a friend about the holiday she immediately told me about a French tent that you take out of its pack, throw in the air and watch as it turns itself into a tent shape in two seconds flat. It sounded like just the thing we needed. Her parents were in France, so she asked them to pick us one up. I have just taken receipt of said tent. It's an orange-and-purple feat of light engineering that you carry on your back in a bag the size of a toy hula hoop. Nobody believes me when I tell them about the throw-it-in-the-air bit. We remain quietly confident.
In Great Outdoors we decided we'd better buy waterproofs, as the weather around the foothills of the Pyrenees is a little unpredictable, according to our guidebook. After baulking at the idea of spending €100 on a jacket we spied a product called Mac In A Sac, which costs a fraction of the price and rolls up into a dinky bag. There were a variety of colours and sizes, so of course I had to liberate several of the Macs from their Sacs, to try them on. Stuffing them back proved more difficult, but I made it look as if I had at least made an attempt.
Trying on my fourth Mac In A Sac, I realised the shop had already hung out a number of them below the shelf, so customers didn't have to unravel all the neatly folded items. I fixed the shop assistant with a look that said "Sorry, we're novices" and ran downstairs to pay.
The hats we bought have crystals in a piece of material around the rim; when you soak them in water they keep you cool all day. The hats are insectproof, sunproof and waterproof.They do everything but book your flights, said the assistant. Sold, to the woman in the ill-fitting mac. Our sandals are incredible, too. They look a bit nerdy, but, as I keep saying to the boyfriend, sure, who's going to be looking at us in campsites across France and Spain where we don't know anybody? Then I look down at his toes peeping out from his Jesus sandals and I remember that I have to look at him. Oh well.
We are trying to travel light. But this is not easy when you have a boyfriend with an addiction to toiletries. He doesn't hold any truck with travel-sized toiletries, either. It's bumper packs of shower gel and sunscreen all the way. I, meanwhile, am torn between bringing only clothes that are comfortable but not necessarily attractive and trying to sneak in a few outfits that would do the job should we be invited somewhere glamorous. He won't be coming with me to any such event. His bag is toiletries-heavy but stubbornly light on clothes outside the knee-length-combat-short category.
I should mention that it's not just any walking and camping holiday. This one has a spiritual dimension. We are going on a yatra, or pilgrimage, run by a Buddhist group. We will be walking single file through towns and villages in southwestern France. The set-up looks a little mortifying on the website. I'm imagining lots of bemused locals munching on their croissants while we file past in silence. Still, the idea is to return home refreshed in mind, body and spirit - with something that lasts a little longer than a tan.
The organisers say the goal of the pilgrimage is not where we are going but "being fully present just where we are". It's about discovering that "there is no way to peace; peace is the way".
Having a tent that erects itself in two seconds can only enhance that sense of peace. We tried it in the backyard last night. It's true: throw it in the air and you have a tent-shaped home in two seconds flat. Which is wonderful, but now we novices are faced with another, more challenging task. We'll be living closer to the great outdoors than we might have preferred if, by holiday time, we still can't get the damn thing back in its bag.
roisiningle@irish-times.ie