Only a mere 5 hour drive from London lives a magical place smack-bang in the middle of what seems like nowhere called Cornish Teepee Holiday. I read about this place from a crisp page of a glossy magazine and it was then and there that I fell love at first sight.
Summer had come and gone and the air was becoming
more and more stony by the minute. For most people, camping was not nor would it ever be
an option this time of the year. But like any passionate love affairs, the
warning signs didn’t daunt me. And so I ventured there with seven other brave
ones by my side.
We woke up well before the sun did and left London
early enough to get to our destination before lunchtime. The car was full of
sparklers, firewood, sleeping bags, fireworks and keen campers. Driving through
the British countryside has become my favourite pastime. The open road allows
me feel wild and free. It’s my way of ridding more concrete and breathing in
more earth. On the way we picked up a dear friend of mine, one of whom I
haven’t seen nor hugged for far too long. Seeing him was like seeing a piece of
home. And just when I thought I had already grasped all the happiness in the
world, we arrived in paradise.
Although the chill of the pending winter was
apparent, the wondrous thing about visiting this place this time of the year
was that we had the whole meadow to ourselves. We slept in Native American
traditional teepees, we built a fire to keep warm our fingertips and we drank
and talked all night long. Where I spent most of my time was by the sparkling
lakeside. Nobody was there but us. During the day we rowed the paddleboats on
the still water and by night we let off fireworks and sky lanterns from the
jetty.
Like all magical love affairs, there is the
inevitable goodbye. All I can do now is long for the summertime when my love
can once again be rekindled with Cornish Teepee Holidays.
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