Modern camping often leaves much to be desired. Too many gas cylinders, plastic bags and ready meals. Overfull campsites, showers and eating houses. What happened to the sense of adventure, of being one with Nature, where necessity really is the Mother of Invention?
In the early seventies I set forth for Scotland and a fortnight camping. You could do the tour by car on twenty five quid in those days.
Unfortunately picked up the wrong box when packing the car and instead of my trusty Primus stove had brought along a blow lamp. Petrol blow lamp that is. A 1938 Max Stevert model.
Part of my tool kit included a half inch thick iron plate for standing one’s jack on in awkward situations. This became my hot plate. Cooking breakfast has never been so spectacular. The iron plate was placed over a hole previously dug and the blow lamp lit.
What followed often put fellow campers to flight as a six foot jet of flame issued from the blow lamp. After the lamp warmed up it was placed in the hole, under the iron plate, with the flame upward and cooking commenced in the normal manner.
