Aussie camping disaster: ‘Our tent was invaded by flying termites’
IT WAS supposed to be a relaxing Aussie camping trip, but instead these campers were hit with an invasive nightmare.
“GET OUT, get out, we’ve been invaded by flying termites,” my partner screamed as he backed out of the tent holding our baby.
Ah ... camping. If it’s not burnt sausages, uncomfortable mattresses, mosquito bites, wet matches, tinned food, hard ground, lack of reading light ... it’s termites.
We were camping at one of our favourite spots — Wollondilly River Station, near Mittagong in the Southern Highlands of NSW. Wollondilly is about one and half hours south of Sydney and about 15 minutes from Bowral, an attractive town with a great mix of eateries, wineries, boutique shops and country markets — as well as the Bradman International Cricket Hall of Fame. The camp site is also just a cooee away from the Wombeyan Caves, which form an impressive underground limestone cathedral.
We had camped at Wollondilly numerous times before and never had a problem with insects. On this occasion it was just a case of bad timing, according to the Australian Museum.
“Termite colonies are formed when the winged reproductive forms leave their original nest and take a colonising flight,” it says.
“These flights occur during warm humid weather and usually take place during spring and autumn.”
Out of the 258 described termite species in Australia, only a few are of concern to humans. This is not because they bite, but because they destroy wood and can eat away at houses.
We’d never spent so much time contemplating termites until this camping expedition. Inside the tent, we found ourselves standing in a cloud of pests so thick we couldn’t breathe without inhaling them. They were there because we hadn’t abided by one of the cardinal rules of camping: do not leave the tent door unzipped at night while there’s a light on inside.
As we were eating a meal that could only be enjoyed on a camping trip — kidney beans and bacon thrown together in a bowl — a few thousand of them had moved into the tent.
Thousands of wings, like bucketfuls of spilt confetti, covered the bedding and the ground sheet. While we weren’t concerned about them biting us, we didn’t want to be woken in the middle of the night by insects landing on us.
‘‘We can’t sleep in here,’’ my partner said. ‘‘We’ll have to pack up.’’
Luckily, we could easily drive back to Sydney to a home with hot showers, flushing toilets and fly screens.
This was the second time in as many weekends that we attempted a camping trip with our baby. The other attempt was foiled by lack of nappies. I’m sure — if we can remember to pack all the paraphernalia needed for the little one — and if the trip doesn’t coincide with the flight of the termites — our child will benefit from the feeling of relaxation that usually comes with camping. What could possibly could go wrong next time?
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