Luxury under the canvas of a yurt in Dorset
The bedrooms were just as good. Each yurt, which is itself made with ash from the estate, cut and steamed into shape, had a hand-made wooden bed with a proper mattress, bed linen and duvet. It was more comfortable than my bed at home. There was a cute single bed, for our son, Arch, and a comfy chair that would have rolled out into a fourth bed had we needed it.
The site was beautiful, set on a slope, looking down to a camp fire, surrounded by hand-made chairs, beside a wood and over-looking fields. As we unpacked Arch ran around saying: “We’re going on a bear hunt. Sssh mummy, tip-toe. We might see a bear.”
The long and the short of our stay is that, blessed by the most glorious weather, we had a wonderful time. Something about the experience seemed to bring out the hunter-gatherer in my husband. He would get up before me and Arch and set up the fires – one to keep us warm, another to heat the hot water.
As for me. I normally refuse to cook when I’m on holiday and had budgeted to eat out at every meal, apart from breakfast. But when I saw the site, I actually wanted to stand under the oak tree and barbecue a meal with my husband having a drink in the sunshine and my son running around putting wood on the fire.
I even enjoyed washing up – now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d write. It was a pleasure to stand outside at a hand-made sink unit, seeing the sun kissing the maize field, and leaving the crocs to dry in the evening breeze. And do you know? The compost loo didn’t smell at all. Not at all.
The only part of the holiday I struggled with was the evenings. Once it was dark, we couldn’t see, which would have been fine if we had not had a three-year-old to entertain. We would have gone to the pub or stared into the embers of the fire and talked.
As it was, it was hard work keeping Arch happy as all the things I had brought – jigsaws, stories, cricket, snap – were tricky to play with by candlelight.
But the pleasures of the daytime more than compensated for the challenge of the nights.
This is camping for the unashamedly feint-hearted.
It is for people who love waking to the freshness of a dew-damp day but who hate crawling out of a two-man tent on their hands and knees.
It is for those who like to lie on their backs and look at a starlit sky, but would rather do that from a proper bed than a roll-up mattress.
You pay for such luxuries of course – a yurt costs £300 per week off season and £450 in August – but it’s worth it.
What price a happy marriage? “You know,” said my husband as we left, “I could have stayed another night.”
* For further information visit the website at http://www.stockgaylard.com or contact Andrew Langmead, Stock Gaylard Estate Office, Stock Gaylard, Sturminster, Newton, Dorset, DT10 2BG. Tel: 01963 23511; Fax: 01963 23064; e-mail: office@stockgaylard.com
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