BEFORE THE WILD CAMP:

It’s New Year’s Eve 2018, and I’m not feeling particularly cheery. The idea of going to a party and pretending to have fun and getting drunk, for once, isn’t that appealing. Last year I spent New Year’s eve hiking the Travers Sabine Circuit in New Zealand, and it was honestly the best New Year’s I’ve ever had (despite it being the hardest day hiking I’ve ever done!). No pressure to go out and celebrate, no hype, just me, my friends and nature.

So this year, back in Blighty, I fancied doing something a little bit different. I bought myself a bivvy bag online on Boxing Day, and am heading to the Jurassic Coast for my first ever wild camp.

Now I’m going to be honest, the idea of camping without a tent terrifies me. I know a tent is just a flimsy piece of material, and in reality it won’t protect me from any horrible monsters or murderers (or foxes or badgers), but it somehow makes you feel protected. You have privacy, you can hide away, you can sleep with your mouth open and no one can see. A bivvy bag, on the other hand, is essentially just a thin waterproof and windproof bag that you snuggle into in your sleeping bag, meaning your face is outside to the elements.

Some of my kit – Vango 3 season sleeping bag, OEX sleeping bag liner, OEX Fulcrum inflatable sleeping mat, Rab bivvy bag and my waterproof trousers

I’ve found another woman to go wild camping with me – Sarah – via a female adventure Facebook group I’m part of. I’m actually just as nervous about spending the day and evening with a stranger, because I’m actually quite shy and utterly rubbish at small talk, but I’d rather wild camp for the first time with someone than without.

I’d best get packing, I’m meeting Sarah in a few hours.

During the wild camp:

I’ve met up with Sarah, a single woman in her forties who’s outgoing and up for an adventure. We met at a car park and walked 2 miles towards our first stop, the Square and Compass pub in Worth Matravers.

Sarah and I at the Square and Compass, NYE 2018

“This is much better than small talk at some party, Jenni” Sarah panted as she climbed over a gate, her heavy backpack weighing her down. “I bloody hate small talk.”

I laughed. “Well seeing as we both hate it so much, I think we’re doing pretty well at it.”

“But we’re different, Jenni – we’re Adventure Queens. We don’t need small talk to get on, we just get it. We both get why we’re out here, and we don’t need to justify it to anyone.” And she was right. We both knew that neither of us were there impress the other, we were just two women who wanted to do something different for New Year’s, and have a little adventure along the way.

Cosying up by the fire with a steak pasty and a mulled cider. It’s a fact that I will likely purchase and consume anything that contains the word ‘mulled’.

After a quick half pint, we set off from the Square and Compass at about 4pm, just as the sun was just starting to set, to try and find somewhere to pitch in the fading light. It’s now 7pm, and after walking 6 miles we’re back at the pub with a pint of cider and a steak pasty. This isn’t us giving up by the way, just an unplanned rest stop. We headed to Chapmans Pool to try and get down to the Cove, but in the dark the way down was steep and very muddy and visibility was shockingly poor, and looking over the edge of the cliff was like looking into the abyss. We made the decision to turn back and look for somewhere else a bit more sensible. And where better to put our heads together than back in the pub.

The pub had only just re-opened after being closed for an hour, so we were able to secure a table right next to the fire while we ate our pasties and warmed up. The pub itself is incredibly small, consisting of two small rooms on either side of the entrance corridor. There isn’t even room for a bar, per se, just a very small serving hatch that can fit one person in.

We hadn’t planned to be here long, but it’s such a lovely atmosphere – lots of families are spending new year’s in this area on trips from London, locals are dressed us as pirates (because when else is it acceptable?), everyone is happy and laughing, live folk music is playing in the marquee outside, and I’m drinking mulled cider by the fire. Not a bad way to spend new year’s eve, if you ask me.

Right, it’s now 10:30pm and the pub is starting to get pretty rowdy (and I’m worried about the amount of beer being spilt on my bag by one of the pirates who’s starting to sway), so time to head off out again I think.

AFTER:

I’m sat on the the of the cliffs at Winspit, sipping my morning coffee. It’s 7.30am and the sun is just rising behind the clouds, illuminating the sky in a dusky orange, and I’m freezing my tits off. I am so thankful that I packed a hot water bottle, no matter how un-hardcore a camper that makes me. It was the only reason I managed to get even a wink of sleep last night. They gave me a very strange look when I asked them to fill it up at the pub, though, but they obliged nonetheless.

Coffee and sunrise – just the ticket.

My set up for the night – bivvy bag, sleeping bag, sleeping bag liner, inflatable mat, and my emergency foil blanket underneath.

The bivvy bag did it’s job. It was a tight squeeze, getting my inflatable air mat, my sleeping bag and me in (Sarah said I looked like a caterpillar, and to be honest, I felt like one). Every time I tried to roll over, it was such a tight squeeze that the air mat beneath me squeaked and squarked, so in the end it was easier to just stay in the same position.

My morning view

When we got to Winspit at 11pm, there was a group of teenagers who were having hot chocolate round a campfire and had a portable disco light illuminating the caves. They said they weren’t staying, and packed up and wished us happy new year soon after. Sarah and I scouted the area for the best place to set up camp, but it was quite hard to see with just out head torches. Anywhere away from the caves, I thought. There were 5 large entrances to the old quarry, looming in the darkness, and so we chose a spot as far away from them as we could. I don’t want a cave monster coming to attack me in the night, thank you very much!

The old quarry caves – not half as scary in the daylight

You can just about see our camp in the middle-right of the photo

Just before midnight, we saw two head torches climbing a hill next to us (Sarah immediately shouted, “who are you? What are you doing?!” in a very motherly tone) – it was just a couple, Greg and Isabel, looking to camp here to see in the new year, though Sarah had been worried some drunkards from the pub might have stumbled down here. The couple were both in the military (I instantly sighed with relief – they could help ward off any cave monsters if they appeared! They must be trained in that sort of thing, surely?) and had brought firelighters and wood with them, so we sat around a campfire and warmed up while sharing travel stories. Sarah had brought me and her a mini bottle of prosecco to have at midnight (which went down a treat), before we all headed off to bed at 1am.

Was it scary not being in a tent? Yeah, it was. So I slid as far down into my bivvy as possible so that my head was completely covered, making me feel like I was in a mini-tent. I tried not to get too worried about noises I heard outside, but I could feel my heart beating so strongly in my chest, thumping through my 4 layers of merino wool, as if trying to say ‘Jenni, what on earth are you doing outside in a bag in Winter when you could be at home in your warm bed?!’

But waking up to a view like this is something else, it really is. Moments like this can’t be bought. They can’t be experienced through social media, or through a lens. You have to be here. I mean, I could describe sound of the waves crashing against the rocks and seeping back to the sea through the pebbles, the birds twittering and flittering in the soft orange glow of dawn, the ashy smell of smoke from last night’s fire lingering on my hair, the sea-salty air rolling onto the cliffs, the dewy grass that I’m currently sat on, sipping my instant double chocolate mocha. But it’s not the same as being here. I might not have got much sleep last night, and yeah it was pretty cold, but the memories I’ve made are worth so much more. I find that when I’m feeling low, that’s when I tend to push myself to do things I’ve never thought possible, just to prove to myself that I can do them. Feeling weak sometimes actually gives me strength. So forcing myself to spend the night outside and overcome the fear of cave monsters was just the reset I needed before heading back to work tomorrow.

And on that note, I’m going to put my phone down, make another coffee and soak up the rest of this sunrise. Here’s to an adventurous 2019. Cheers, everyone ☕.