Our first ever night in a tent we got flooded out and had it moved to higher ground by a bunch of very considerate Scouts. We were very drunk (the rain had torrented down whilst we’d spent 4 hours in the nearby pub) and even more grateful than drunk.
Ha, thanks for that, Nicky... A detail I didn't include in this story, we had stopped by the Jack Daniel's distillery before the camping at the farm... unfortunately we had run out of the souvenir whisky by the time of the storm...
This is really funny, particularly when drinking "brothers" moonshine and not waking up blind... Well written. (And I don't go camping but I do watch all the RV's drive by my house to the KOA up the road by the river/creek that always floods....)
Clarksdale is awesome. We watched Kingfish at a place called Red's. We got there comically early and sat talking to Red himself for ages. I'll never forget it.
I'm very sorry to hear that news. He seemed a lovely fellow. Gave us all the time in the world as we turned up hours before the show started (and anyone else had arrived). I won't soon forget him. To change the subject abruptly, goodness I wish I'd "met" you in 2017, Nic. Your knowledge of our route and recommendations would have been invaluable (by and large the recommendations for food etc we did receive from friends were so disappointing).
OMG THE DOLPHIN! So, apart from enjoying your the wryness and dryness of your observations about married and professional life, I now have that weird yet enjoyable time-warp bump of knowing that we inhabited the same geography at the same time. (I lived on the junction of Victoria Park Rd/Mare Street for a decade, including 2013, and still burn with shame at the memory of a rendition of "Country House" which I offered The Dolphin one gin-sodden night more than ten years ago.)
A truly lovely piece of writing Will . I haven’t camped since I was about 10 years old ( now 56 ) and this just served to remind me of my good life choices 😂
I've also experienced flooding due to a faulty tent. Annoying in the moment, sure, but it's those memories that last the longest. Thanks for sharing your story!
I always love seeing my country and especially the region (ish) that I live in through non-native eyes.
By the way, if your hostess called the man "Brother," he was her brother, or possibly her brother-in-law. In much of the inland southeast, one's brother has a given name but no one who knows him will use it. "Sister," however, is usually an older auntie-type you know in a church context, but "Sissy" is your actual sister. If one has more than one sibling of a given gender, you might have "Brother" and "Little Brother" or "Baby Brother." Possibly "Brother Boy" or "Bubba," which is a corruption of "brother."
I have a dear friend whose eldest sibling is a pillar of his community and respected restauranteur and whose given name I had to Google because no one calls him anything but "Brother."
I find it a lovely affectation. Much the way characters in The Bear (you seen it?) call each other cousin. I'm just not used to hearing that having grown up in south-east England.
I hadn't encountered it either before I moved to the southeastern US. At first I found it very confusing because where I come from -- Great Lakes region of the US, the region called the "rust belt" now -- calling someone "brother" was common as an expression of affection and solidarity among Black people but would've been (rightly) seen as appropriative racist assholery coming from someone who wasn't Black. "Cousin" was used almost identically.
Now I'm gonna have to watch The Bear. I keep meaning to anyway, everyone I know who watches TV has loved it.
Our first ever night in a tent we got flooded out and had it moved to higher ground by a bunch of very considerate Scouts. We were very drunk (the rain had torrented down whilst we’d spent 4 hours in the nearby pub) and even more grateful than drunk.
Ha, thanks for that, Nicky... A detail I didn't include in this story, we had stopped by the Jack Daniel's distillery before the camping at the farm... unfortunately we had run out of the souvenir whisky by the time of the storm...
Heh, definitely felt more resilient with several pints inside us!
This is really funny, particularly when drinking "brothers" moonshine and not waking up blind... Well written. (And I don't go camping but I do watch all the RV's drive by my house to the KOA up the road by the river/creek that always floods....)
"Be it the AW root beer that tasted like medicine or Hershey’s chocolate that tasted not entirely unlike vomit, it was all unfathomably different."
All, correct.
More specifically we both thought AW tasted like Tiger Balm or Deep Heat. The stuff you put on sore muscles. Still liked it though.
There's a lot of mint in American rootbeer
I remember the Dolphin! And Clarksdale is one of my favourite places in the USA.
Clarksdale is awesome. We watched Kingfish at a place called Red's. We got there comically early and sat talking to Red himself for ages. I'll never forget it.
I know Red's. We stayed at the Riverside Hotel, just steps away. Red died not that long ago; he'll be missed.
I'm very sorry to hear that news. He seemed a lovely fellow. Gave us all the time in the world as we turned up hours before the show started (and anyone else had arrived). I won't soon forget him. To change the subject abruptly, goodness I wish I'd "met" you in 2017, Nic. Your knowledge of our route and recommendations would have been invaluable (by and large the recommendations for food etc we did receive from friends were so disappointing).
Oh that's a shame because your route is not dissimilar to one we took. Next time!
OMG THE DOLPHIN! So, apart from enjoying your the wryness and dryness of your observations about married and professional life, I now have that weird yet enjoyable time-warp bump of knowing that we inhabited the same geography at the same time. (I lived on the junction of Victoria Park Rd/Mare Street for a decade, including 2013, and still burn with shame at the memory of a rendition of "Country House" which I offered The Dolphin one gin-sodden night more than ten years ago.)
Haha, youve made my day, Graeme. I know precisely where you're talking about. I spent a lot of time in that area in my mid twenties.
A truly lovely piece of writing Will . I haven’t camped since I was about 10 years old ( now 56 ) and this just served to remind me of my good life choices 😂
Thanks so much, Johnnie. I'm better at outdoor cooking now, but I still need to work on my camping skills Id say.
I've also experienced flooding due to a faulty tent. Annoying in the moment, sure, but it's those memories that last the longest. Thanks for sharing your story!
You're welcome, thanks for reading!
Gorgeous essay. Funny, warm, wise. Interesting.
This was fun and I love the name: Honeymoon Campfire Potatoes
Thanks, Jolene. Hope all's well with you.
PS... Burn is one of my absolute favourite ingredients. Same as with salt, good in the right amount.
Goes with everything 🔥 😂
I always love seeing my country and especially the region (ish) that I live in through non-native eyes.
By the way, if your hostess called the man "Brother," he was her brother, or possibly her brother-in-law. In much of the inland southeast, one's brother has a given name but no one who knows him will use it. "Sister," however, is usually an older auntie-type you know in a church context, but "Sissy" is your actual sister. If one has more than one sibling of a given gender, you might have "Brother" and "Little Brother" or "Baby Brother." Possibly "Brother Boy" or "Bubba," which is a corruption of "brother."
I have a dear friend whose eldest sibling is a pillar of his community and respected restauranteur and whose given name I had to Google because no one calls him anything but "Brother."
I find it a lovely affectation. Much the way characters in The Bear (you seen it?) call each other cousin. I'm just not used to hearing that having grown up in south-east England.
I hadn't encountered it either before I moved to the southeastern US. At first I found it very confusing because where I come from -- Great Lakes region of the US, the region called the "rust belt" now -- calling someone "brother" was common as an expression of affection and solidarity among Black people but would've been (rightly) seen as appropriative racist assholery coming from someone who wasn't Black. "Cousin" was used almost identically.
Now I'm gonna have to watch The Bear. I keep meaning to anyway, everyone I know who watches TV has loved it.