God loves me!

So, we went camping in Matala a couple of weeks ago. This may not be something world shocking to some people, but it was to me . . .  since it was my first time ever! Before that memorable weekend I had never ever really camped out before. I can faintly remember spending a weekend with one of my school friends back in the seventies on a camp site but I don't really think it counts since  their "tent" had three bedrooms, a bathroom, fully operating shower, kitchen and dining room. They were connected to the sewer system and, it being in Holland, may I remind you, I could even throw my toilet paper in the toilet. Looking back, it's basically all been downhill since then, but that's a whole different subject.

I was really excited, you know. Imagine a four-day break in high season with my favourite bikes (all Harley's), my favourite music (all rock), and camping out! I had decided that someone up there must really like me. 

Now, as you all know, I have a partner who helps me out in the house a lot (again this shows someone up there likes me). The only times we argue is when he does some washing since he throws all colours in together. The night before our Matala departure I got fantastic pay-back, I am convinced, from The Lord himself. My sweetheart showed me the four shirts he had decided to bring to this rough, rugged 1^st Cretan Biker Run, a Hells Angels-supported event. They were all pink. Just let that one sink in for a second. Armed with a bottle of chlorine, I whitened his shirts trying to save him from the embarrassment of being the only pink dude amidst hundreds of skull and crossbones-bone wearing bikers, all the while tears streaming down my face with laughter. Reds just don't go with whites baby!

By now you gotta agree someone up there seriously fancies me.

We didn't really have a tent, so there was not a lot to set up when we got there.  I busied myself with making our beds in the minibus, our home away from home. As soon as I was done, I checked out the camping grounds and had to go back to our bus with a devastating announcement: "Guys," I yelled, "I don't know bout this camping thing, I haven't found any showers and I just peed in a hole." Honestly, I wasn't happy at that particular moment, not at all. But, tada, next morning my knight in shining armour took me to some real clean bathrooms and showers WITH hot water. From then on I became a camping buff . . . a pro at sleeping on a tiny backseat and a pro at changing clothes on 50 square centimetres of space. I am now so confident that I will even bring a little gas burner next time, to make some coffee or fry an egg or whatever it is they do. The whole weekend turned out to be a smash and we thank all the guys from The Cretan Harley Davidson Club for their hospitality, and we'll be there again next year.

And now back home, a voice from the bathroom shouts: "Babe, can purple go in with denim?" And I know, for sure, God loves me!