The big ugly

Everyone eventually gets to an age where the essence of improving one's appearance is by good grooming. As a result, the one thing that happens when you camp rough is that you look really really ugly while you're doing it. Knowing this, I made no effort in the grooming department save a shower when I set off in the car with my kids, my niece and the dog in the car for company.

When I accidentally bumped into the car in front of me in the carpark that should have been the Princes Highway in Nowra, and a big, burly fit looking naval officer got out of the car in front (the one I'd hit) and angrily barked 'driver's licence' into my window, I regretted that decision. I got very serious 'woman driver' vibes from him, and it was very unpleasant.

Not that I think I could have knocked him for six with my hotness, but in the absence of any cosmetics at all and no saucer sized sunglasses, I just looked like a tired old housewife who took her eye off the ball and drove into his bumper bar. Something about his obvious bully prick personality/attitude sucked the assertiveness out of me - I would have been a bit more dignified in defeat and perhaps not felt so pathetic if I'd blowdried my hair and put on a bit of lippy. And found those sunglasses before I set off. A kind of armour, if you like. Against pricks.

In addition to this, I hate my haircut. Brassy yellow, straggly, short (ugh), with 2cm dark regrowth - it looks disgusting. A bit of hair and some big black sunglasses can do wonders for the confidence and create an illusion (apparently known as the 'Bondi beach' effect) where the ravages of time have taken their toll. I want my hair back. Pass me those dark glasses.

But if I thought I looked ugly on my way down there, you should have seen me four days later with no shower, sloping around the campsite in my swimsuit and sarong and crocs. Eww.

I'll be going back next year though, let me show you why ...



Worth every ugly second of it.