Despite the morning chill I woke up feeling snug and warm inside my sleeping bag, this was at least partially due to wearing around 4 layers of clothing since despite its claim to have been used on arctic expeditions it did not cope well with a British summer. Apart from the birdsong it was silent outside the tent, no clattering of pans, no chattering, in fact no sounds of life at all… I considered trying to sleep for a little while longer but the prospect of a nice shower without people complaining about the girl who had been in there for far too long was too tempting a prospect.
After the usual 5 minute struggle to locate and un-stick the zipper I finally emerged from the cocoon, sometimes it was necessary to undress inside the bag in order to squeeze out through the top so for this small mercy I was thankful. Though it was cold it would not be practical to head to the showers wearing quite as much clothing, since there would only be a small stool on which to leave my belongings. Shivering slightly I peeled off each layer until only my sleeping shorts and Metallica t-shirt remained, after some deliberation I removed my socks so wearing flip flops would not look too silly on my journey.
Collecting my shower bag and a small towel I quietly sneaked out of the tent and walked the half mile to the shower block, given how busy and noisy campsites usually are it was a little eerie to be out when everyone else was sleeping. I had not encountered another soul on my travels and the showers themselves were also abandoned so I quickly looked into each cubicle to see which looked the cleanest (thankfully they were all well maintained) and ended up choosing the one as far away from the door as possible.
Once inside I took the transistor radio out of the shower bag, turned it on and hung it from a hook on the door. The reception was surprisingly good though it was a shame about the music so I turned it over to a classical station and was rewarded with some Bach. I undressed quickly then shivering slightly sorted out enough silver to feed the shower for at least 20 minutes, it took no more than a minute to actually get clean and from that point I just stood under the shower enjoying the heat. My only movement was to quickly stick my hand under the shower curtain to retrieve another coin whenever the pressure began to drop.
After the fifth coins time came to an end the shower block had become a little noisy so I decided it was probably time to finish up and get some breakfast. Pulling hair out of my eyes I stepped out of the shower, picked up my towel and dried off before dragging the t-shirt over my head. I reached for the shorts but they were no longer on the stool or on the floor, I was a little panicked at this point but soon found they had fallen into the shower at some point and were completely soaked.
I really did not know what to do, it was still cold outside and walking back in wet shorts would at best leave me sore from chaffing in the places I would least like to be so. It turned out the towel was too small to wrap around my waist properly leaving me with no option but to wear the shorts… then an idea occurred to me which caused me to blush, the t-shirt was of the one size fits nobody category and as a result did cover my modesty, the decision was made when a women tapped on the door and politely enquired “Excuse me dear but there is quite a queue forming here, are you likely to be much longer?”
I stammered out an apology then turned off the radio placing it into the shower-bag and wrapped up my shorts in the towel. With butterflies in my stomach and blushing furiously I stepped out of the cubicle and said “Terribly sorry, I just lost track of time” and headed towards the exit the ladies waiting in line assuming my embarrassment was due to this. As I opened the door to leave the sun seemed much brighter despite the cold and I was very aware of the breeze that passed through my shirt as though it was not there. I felt like I was doing something naughty, my heart would normally only beat this fast after I’d finished a race and my legs felt a little shaky to say the least.
Taking a deep breath I began walking back to my tent ever conscious of the slightest draught, constantly fidgeting to keep the bottom of my t-shirt where it belonged, also aware of the material rubbing against my nipples which were clearly standing out from both the cold and the situation. I would probably have drew less attention had I ran back in my birthday suit, instead I walked unsteadily and waved when I saw people I recognised. More than anything I just wanted to sneak behind a tent somewhere and put my shorts back on but I controlled my fear as best as possible and continued the slow walk back to my own tent.
By the time I arrived at the tent I was actually panting, my mother was sitting outside her tent having begun to cook us breakfast, it had not actually occurred at any point that she would be up and about yet even though she was normally up at least an hour before me every day.
On seeing me she commented that she had been just about to wake me but had expected the bacon to do it for her, it being unusual for me to be out of bed so early unless forced. I was about to dive into my tent when she quickly walked over and placed a hand on my forehead saying “Are you okay dear, you look really flushed and you’re out of breath… ”, in return I reassured her I had just been in the showers and possibly ran them a little too hot which she accepted with only a raised eyebrow as my mother was more than aware of the impact of my showering habits on our water-bill.
As soon as she turned back to finish off breakfast I squatted down and unzipped my tent then scrambled through the door as fast as possible and closed it behind me, receiving a wolf whistle from a family sitting around a table outside a tent opposite us. In my haste to get inside I had not even thought that I would have been giving the same show as the German girl from a few days ago.
I really couldn’t believe what I had just done, fear and anticipation all mixed into what was probably one of the most intense experiences of my life to date, every movement seemed to be pain and ecstasy in equal measure… biting onto my towel lest I make a noise I slid a hand between my legs seeking release as quietly as possible then collapsed to the ground panting, exhausted and tingling from head to foot.
Once I regained my composure I pulled t-shirt off and rubbed myself over with the towel to remove as much sweat as possible before dressing in jeans and a t-shirt before exiting the tent. If my mother had any idea of what I had done or why our neighbour had whistled she gave no indication, something I was very grateful for. Still blushing slightly I accepted the plate she had put out for me and we planned what we would be doing for the rest of the day.
The exposure had been accidental and when I was alone again that evening it was all I could think about, I wondered if the German girl had really felt the same way when people were watching her and if I would ever do anything like that again… in short I was hooked.
A few months later I was wearing that same Metallica t-shirt as I dried my hair in front of a mirror at home, in lifting my arm up as I moved the dryer around it seemed the t-shirt followed. While I had not realised at the time every single person I had waved to that day on the campsite had been given an unintended but no doubt memorable view… no wonder they were so happy to see me!