Up tent in Europe—with 50,000 ‘wild campers’

Press, 21 April 1979, Page 16

Up tent in Europe—with 50,000 ‘wild campers’

From

ROSS BROWN,

in Oslo

All aspects of tourism are developing in Europe. In particular, editors of camping manuals stress that that camping is becoming more popular and that sites are sprouting everywhere. “Agreed,” says a New Zealander who went to the south of France last August, “I found about 40 camp-sites — and every one was full.” He went during the accepted vacation period, when cars clog the “autoroutes” to the Mediterranean. Campers swamped listed sites and tents were erected in vineyards and on roadsides. An estimated 50,000 wild campers (“les campeurs sauvages”) frustrated gendarmes, especially those who had to remove a tent from a traffic island in central Cannes. Polluted water that can cause skin or eye infections has not curbed the invasion from the rainy north to the Costa del Sol or the Adriatic. Several highclass camp-sites near Rome accommodate tourists who blithely bathe close to the city’s raw' sewage outlets. Yet the problem remains of tracing a suitable site. Elaborate multi-lingual camping guides do not help those trapped in the hurlyburly of rush traffic or scouting around the leafy periphery of a metropolis. As any Kiwi camper in Europe will testify: locals seldom know the exact whereabouts of the regional site, simply because they holiday elsewhere. Even that most comprehensive guide, the Ger; man “Europe CampingCarvanning,” with 600 pages listing 4500 sites, cannot alleviate the

difficulty of spotting a earning ground in Germany. Slipping off the autobahn, the address of the nearest site secure, the camper may sweat behind the wheel for hours until facing a first and last Deutscher Campingclub sign — right outside the site.

In the last 10 years the writer has met innumerable fellow New Zealanders — mainly elderly couples —

so exhausted by the struggle to find a site that they retreat into their caravan instead of inspecting nearby attractions. The sights on the postcards they send home are about as distant as their hometown.

Often, their day’s touring has begun too late. The wise European camper dispenses with the cumbersome breakfast and moves on to the road early, avoiding the afternoon traffic pile-up and arriving at his next site before twilight. Sites publicised in the British “AA guide” or the German handbook tend to keep with the requirements of the fastidious camper. Yet misconceptions occur. How does the German guide accord the Budapest camp of Harshegy the rating of “much comfort”?

Last season water drained from the constantly flooded washrooms and trickled into nearby tents. The serrated terrain caused those lying in sle* a ning-ba>’s to emerge feeling as if they had slept on a staircase.

Camp staff, overworked and irritable, leave the tourist to select his own site, no matter if he arrives

in darkness, and regardless of how crowded the area is. In their reasoning the camp is never “full.” Whereas in the best Western European camps — where one receives a map of the area, a set of rules, and is. led to a numbered site — many Eastern European camps verge on the haphazard and tents spring up like in a goldrush settlement. Anyone leaving car or

tent for a period should expect, on returning, to find it blocked off by another car or tent, guyropes weaving under one’s .own. Passports are often held overnight by the warden. A formality, perhaps, yet unnerving for the owner. In Scandinavia, sites are clean with good sanitary facilities. Most are situated in a rural environment, near wood or water, and well clear of highways. But many Kiwis have learnt not to use an official camp-site away from main cities. Anyone driving in the country in the milky light of midnight glimpses more than foxes — like caravans and combi-vans freely camped in forests. Self-reliant tourists, in a grand position to meet other tourists or locals, are still aloof creatures. “I drove through Europe last summer,” says a New Zealander, “and exchanged little else but a curt nod with other campers.” Nevertheless, in Britain a welcoming wave, even a pot of tea brewed by a neighbouring camper for a newcomer, are not signs of abnormality.

An oft-quoted criticism of British sites is that they sometimes lack quality, and often practical details like ample mirrors or adequate lighting in the washrooms. One large camp in Devon, overlooking the sea and a manicured landscape, has no hooks or shelves in the male washroom. Wail mirrors are navel high. The morning sight of men

doubled over the washbasins, their clothes, toiletbags, or towels jammed between legs, is material for Monty Python. The warden hunts zealously for his camp-register amongst the empty bottles, papers, tools, ashtrays, and junk on his desk-top. At his rear a sign begs campers to “keep tidy”. Yet surprises in British camps incline towards the positive. The German manual lists the main site in St Ives which, according to the staff, is packed to the gates in summer, yet neglects Polmanter Farm Camping a few miles away. This site gains mention in the British Tourist Authority’s “Camping and Caravan Sites”. Spacious efficiently-run, and close to Cornish landmarks like a derelict engine-house and a megalith, its prevailing sounds are of cows and birds and the smell of wildflowers. The British “TRAX” guide lists 100 good sites, mainly on racecourses like Chepstow, Cheltenham, Newmarket, and Goodwood, and supplies detailed approach maps. In some

cases campers can watch race meetings at no extra charge. Touring Kiwis have long ceased to regard European prices as cheap. But the most disconsolate are those who abstractedly convert every item into NZ dollars, ignoring the value content. Most southern European sites are tailor-made for the prosperous Frenchman, Scandanavian, and German, willing spenders during their 3-4 weeks vacationinstructions in German dominate in many Italian and Yugoslavian camps. Generally, high costs mean that the site has super amenities, even extras like a sauna, a camp physician, security guards, and mini-lavatories for children. Or “ready meals to take along” and “wild horses and bullfighting” as a French and Spanish camp advertise. Prices range from $9 a night (two adults with tent /car) at Laxenburg Schlosspark, south of Vienna, to $5 (two adults and a vehicle) at Oslo’s threestar sites of Ekeburg and Bogstad, to $3 (two adults and tent/car) at the countless camps around Hungary’s Lake Balaton. The TRAX racecourse sites vary between $3.30 to $4.50 a night for a maximum of four adults and a vehicle. However, the main ingredient for enjoying camping is not a price/amenities scale but the amount of sun available. Last summer in North and Central Europe was the dampest for 10 years: resolute campers assume that this year must be better.