I started going to GG camps when I was about 14. I know Ma was only too pleased to get rid of me for a few weeks. We usually went to Magaliesberg(only about 30 miles from home) and set up camp. I adored the freedom, the social whirl, the novelty of each new day and was never ever homesick. Leaving the tent at night to wee was exciting in itself. I took my torch and ventured out into the African bush, which is abslolutely pitch black. I stumbled a few metres and squatted, hastily shining my torch downwards to make sure that no creepy crawlies had come to investigate, and also that I wasn't peeing on my leg. It was always thrilling. This was mostly a solitary procedure, unless someone else had the same urgent need. Getting caught 'with my pants down' then took on a literal meaning.
