It took me well into the advanced years of middle-age to finally, once and for all, embrace two things.

I chose the word “embrace” very deliberately, as both these things had been flirted with, toyed with, experimented around, enjoyed in shorts bursts even, but never really fully embraced. Never properly loved.

They are completely unrelated. But here they are, in the chronological order in which they were conquered:

  • 1/ Indian food (2003) – 43 years old
  • 2/ Camping (2007) – 47 years old

I shudder with retrospective embarrassment when I consider the oh so many years when I was the only one to order omelette and chips in the Indian restaurant.

Although I still maintain how delicious this dish was (and is), when you consider the vast variety of culinary delights to be sampled across the Asian sub continent, my obstinate and steadfast refusal to be tempted by anything other than “omelette and chips for me, please”, which I maintained for literally decades, feels a little self-defeating.

Particularly when you consider the salivating alacrity with which I respond to the merest hint of an Indian meal today.

I feel the preceding years have been squandered, gentle readers, squandered.

The camping story is similar. When I got married at 47 (well I never was want to rush into things anyway) and you do that thing when you come together and look at all your stuff and realise you only need one set, I managed to conceal my horror at the saucepans and loo roll in the washing up bowl packed and ready for the camping treat.

My subsequent conversion to the cause has been in direct proportional mirroring to my wife’s journey in the other direction.

She’s turned from camping enthusiast to home comfort devotee.

However, the notion of “glamping” was a new one to us when we were invited to join friends in Gorsey Meadows last weekend.

Let me offer two words that for someone of my delicate sensibility are guaranteed to drain the blood and whiten the features of my face. Eco toilet.

The mere mention of these words is enough to make me run for the hills rather than go Glamping. Another Roberts mistake. Whilst I wouldn’t say I’m ripping out the loo at home quite yet, the eco toilet is just one of the luxurious (yes, luxurious) additions to the glamping part of camping. I’m a convert.

Who knows where this might end? These days hardly a week goes by without some deeply held tenet of belief being jettisoned.

What’s so wrong with wearing a wig anyway?