From hiking a trail in a stroller to discovering the comforts of glamping and moving on to a camping car, this week’s La Belle Vie looks back at different memories of summers spent camping.
Hello readers,
My parents always took me camping during the summer when I was growing up. In fact one year, they both took a sabbatical to travel, and one of the highlights of their trip was walking part of the Saint-Jacques de Compostelle trail.
It was 2001, and I was still a toddler, so they bought a hiking stroller designed specifically for long-distance trails. I don’t remember much from that adventure myself, but through family photos and the stories they’ve told me over the years, a few memories have stayed with me.
My mom and I covered around 500 kilometres in total, split between the French and Spanish sections of the trail. Altogether, it took about three months. We walked the French section in the autumn and returned the following spring to continue through Spain. My dad carried on after we stopped and eventually completed around 1,600 kilometres.
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Throughout the journey, we stayed in several gîtes – a budget-friendly, communal accommodation specifically designed for hikers. Dinner was often included, and every evening we’d gather around a big table with other people who were walking the trail. Those dinners always sounded like such special moments – sharing a meal with strangers, or with people you’d already met a few nights before at another gîte. My parents made genuine friendships that lasted for years after the trip.
The summers that followed were filled with different camping adventures, many of them by bike. When I was little, I rode in a trailer attached to my dad’s bike before eventually graduating to my own. From Belle-Île in Brittany to the Canal de Nantes à Brest and the Loire Valley, we spent countless holidays cycling during the day and camping each evening.
There was something exciting about arriving at a different campsite every night. My favourites were always the ones with a swimming pool. Every new campsite felt like discovering a temporary home. We’d search for the perfect shady spot to pitch our tent, and once we were settled, I loved wandering around to see how everyone else had set up their camps.
Because we were travelling by bike, we packed only the essentials. That made it even more fascinating to see families who seemed to bring an entire outdoor living room with them: lounge chairs, tables, outdoor kitchens, and all kinds of camping gadgets. It felt like peeking into everyone’s little summer home.
I remember staying at one campsite with a terrain de pétanque, which, as an only child, was the perfect place to meet other kids my age and play the traditional game of boules.
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As I got older, we never really gave up our camping tradition. Every summer, my parents and I visit the small Breton village of La Gacilly, where an outdoor photography festival runs from June to October. The campsite we always stay at sits beside a stream and is right next to the start of the exhibition trail.
The first year we brought our own tent, but the following summer my mom surprised us with our first ‘glamping’ experience. We stayed in spacious canvas tents with proper beds inside, which felt incredibly luxurious. It quickly became my favourite kind of camping. You still fall asleep surrounded by the sounds of nature and wake up in a tent, but you also get a genuinely comfortable night’s sleep.
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More recently, my parents have embraced yet another style of camping. Since retiring, they’ve started travelling with a camping car (camper van/motorhome).
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After finishing my master’s degree and before starting my first job, I joined them for a two-week road trip through Norway. I had been slightly worried that living together in such a small space might drive us all a little crazy. Instead, it had the opposite effect. There’s something about sharing a tiny space that encourages everyone to get along.
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As I look back on these experiences growing up, I really have come to appreciate this way of vacationing. I love sleeping surrounded by nature, but I also love the sense of community that comes with camping. Whether you’re sharing a table in a mountain gîte or chatting with your neighbours at a campsite, people seem naturally more open and welcoming.
I also appreciate how simple camping is. Once you’ve set up your tent, or parked your camping car, the rest of the evening is yours. You can sit outside in a comfortable camping chair, listen to the sounds around you, and enjoy being outdoors.
One of my favourite camping memories was when my best friend whisked me away on the Breton island of Bréhat after I had failed an important exam during my studies. She said that all I needed to get better was a night in a tent facing the sea. And she was right – there was something quite healing about falling asleep and waking up to the sound of waves.
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