Sunday July 27 2014

On camping and hiking

camping & hiking


By Stella Riunga

When people invite me for camps and hikes I always say no. To be honest, a kind of mist envelopes my brain when I hear the two words, thus my reaction is always to be safe and say, “No”. It’s difficult explaining just how much I loathe these two activities, but by golly, I will try!

On camping
The truth, the only truth is, I hate camping. I mean the tents and sleeping bags kind of camping. I have only done it once. When I was at university. The company was fantastic- the night so bitterly cold, it was hard to believe I was still in Kenya and not, say, the middle of Antarctica. My back suffered on the hard stony ground, unbearably. As a result, when I hear the word “Camping” accompanied by the suggestion, “Let’s go”, I instantly break out into a cold sweat. No, please no. Never. Don’t take me there! I’ll lick your feet! I’ll do anything JUST DON’T TAKE ME CAMPING.

On hiking
In the spirit of trying new things, once I went hiking up a mountainside. It was what I call my near-death experience. I don’t ever want to do it again, not this side of sanity. The painful memories of that day will be forever etched in my mind. To make a long story short, I had to be dragged up the slope — my limbs having lost all strength and feeling, flopping uselessly about like those of a rag doll (ok I may have exaggerated a tiny little bit).

My take
In summary, I don’t think I’m outdoorsy. I like being clean. I hate sweat. I hate suffering for no understandable purpose- wasn’t that what I was busy doing for four years in XXX Girls’ Penitentiary- oops I meant School (no really, I meant Penitentiary for Unpardonable Offences)? It will be a cold, snowy day in Karamoja before I take myself back to that kind of life.

There you have it, the full explanation. Next time I turn down a camping or hiking invitation, I’m sure you’ll understand why. Thank you for not inviting me