06/01/2026
Are caravan parks simply the best place in the world for people watching? And for people-ing? 😆
I LOVE having a chat with someone I've known for 5 minutes while popping my washing on. Or the casual daily interactions with people on the next site about where you both went to explore that day, or how old your dogs are, or what part of the world you're both from.
I love being on first name basis with the person who runs the coffee cart wherever we stay, and getting to know about their lives when they're not at the beach serving me my decaf oat latte. 🤣
I do have enough self control to recognise that not everyone is up for a chat, or interested in interacting with people other than those they came away with, or the friends they've arranged to camp beside.
Having the cutest little puppy who needs lots of short walks means I get stopped a lot, because honestly, she looks like a teddy bear and most reasonable humans can't resist that level of cuteness. My youngest son has realised going for a walk with me when we have the puppy means there'll be a lot of stopping and waaaaaaayyyyy too much chin-wagging for his liking, so he quickly takes his leave.
I also love that kids can come and go with a freedom they just don't have anywhere else.
I asked my husband last night if he'd noticed how everyone else seems to have systems (all the bikes neatly leaned up against the front of their trailer, shoes all kept together in a basket at the door, etc.) while our camp-site is a hot mess, exposed for the world to see. He had noticed that, and also that we tend to be the last ones to go to bed.
I used to find it really stressful, worrying about the impact on our neighbours when kids would be dysregulated, or an argument would erupt over looking for a lost item, or our bikes would be parked in a mess, right on the border of their camp-site.
I remember apologising to a lovely, slightly older couple, when we stayed next to them for a few nights in far North Queensland. We'd enjoyed civilised chats during the day (they had been a nurse and a teacher, just as my husband and I were) so it felt excruciating when they would no doubt hear the far from perfect moments. They said how much they missed their grandchildren who lived interstate and how much they enjoyed the sound of kids, in all their glory.
Of course not everyone would share that sentiment, and as the kids have gotten older, there are less meltdowns for us to feel embarrassed about. I actually like it when I hear a toddler losing their tiny little mind a few camp-sites up, because then I don't die so much when my anxious dog barks.
I reckon if you choose to stay in a public camping ground, you're not there for silence and complete solitude. Generally people who really dislike other people and their human flaws don't stay in a place where they're exposed to such daily annoyances.
There are always lots of extra kids coming and going at our camp site. Between playing the latest card game with our kids and visiting the dogs, we have a constant stream of people stopping by. So I feel like we contribute enough positive energy to the place to balance out our not so pitch perfect moments.
And of course we do try to be respectful of neighbours and noise and where bikes need to be parked, and all of that.
I also find myself guessing what DISC style people I chat with might be, noting when one parent of a kid my kids makes friends with is outgoing and generous, and the other parent is more private and reserved. I'll be there silently analysing what their DISC profiles might be. No judgement, just fascinated by the different types of people and the way they interact with each other.
It's like a live stream of a Sociology tutorial, and while it's not everyone's cup of tea, the social aspect of camping is right up my alley.
Ooh, a massive van has arrived and the couple are trying to navigate a tight spot with an audience. People are offering advice, offering to move their cars and offering a friendly joke. Time to pop the kettle on and pull up a camp chair for some first class entertainment.
