Presqu'ile: A Petite Camping Adventure

I am not a fan of camping. I am a big fan of indoor plumbing. These two things seems to be mutually exclusive; therefore, so are camping and me.

But when your best friend and her boyfriend ask you to tag along as comic relief how can you say no. You just don't.

My weekend adventure started the same way as any other adventure - packing in a furious rush with only an hour to spare, because I had been too lazy to do so earlier. Thankfully I'd made myself a list, so it was fairly smooth sailing. 

After making sure everything was securely packed in my suitcase - just because I'm going camping doesn't mean I have to pack in garbage bags - I was out the door and on my way to the train station.  

Finally out the door - it looks like I've packed a lot, but in reality, half of that suitcase is my sleeping bag.
The helpful packing tricks you learn when working for a traveling events company.

Waiting for the lights to change at Laurier.

I hadn't traveled by train until I moved out East; I'm a total convert. Why anyone would take the bus is beyond me.

Mon billet

The VIA Rail Station in Ottawa, as viewed from the train

I arrived in Kingston mid-afternoon and spent a couple of hours basking in the sunshine, reading Hunger Games and hanging out with the Rotopotamus in the backyard.

The Rotopotamos aka: my dog niece

After my travel companions got home from work we pilled into the car and we were on our way. The drive to Presqu'ile Provincial Park was great. Unfortunately, we didn't get there until 8:30, so setting up a tent in the dark wasn't the most fun, but we made the best of it.

Saturday was absolutely beautiful; gorgeous sunshine, not a cloud in the sky - my kind of camping. We spent the morning walking on a marsh boardwalk 

Down on the boardwalk, we'll be having some fun!

and then the afternoon on the beach. I couldn't have asked for anything more. 

Sunday wasn't as great as Saturday. We were startled awake when a branch crashed down right beside the tent - the effects of Irene were in full force. We packed up quick, fearing that the rain would soon hit, and before I knew it our weekend was over.

My only souvenirs of the weekend are the mosquito bites that cover my ankles. Apparently there's something about my ankles that drive them crazy.

The results of my vicious, and unnoticed until it was too late, mosquito attack.

I've never been a big fan of camping, but after a weekend like that I might be a convert.

Okay, maybe not. If only they could figure out that plumbing thing.