We recently got ourselves involved with the organisation of a Warrior Within Weekend in Shropshire (try saying that fast).

As my other half had volunteered to dig the earth toilet, we decided to get there a day early to make sure it was ready when everyone else got there. Of course, decisions, like plans, don't always work out quite as you expect. Because of electircal problems with the trailer (in England this means a small 2 wheeled cart connected to the rear of the car that can carry luggage, not a home on wheels). After an hour of cursing and fiddling with wires, we were on our way, but the delay had cost valuable tent pitching daylight and so the journey suddenly seemed rather less inviting. I rang our hosts, complete strangers at that time, to say we were running late and we were immediately invited to spend the night at the house. Real toilet, real showers, really couldn't say no.

Now, I suppose you may be wondering what an earth toilet is? Of course some people will already know, but if the term is new to you, I shall explain. It is, basically, a hole in the ground with some sort of support apparatus over it for people to sit on when they want to "go" - we had a commode minus its little bucket, supported on either side of the hole by two stout wooden planks. Privacy is provided in a variety of ways. In this case it was going to be sheets of canvas draped between surrounding shrubs, but finished up as a dome tent complete with vacant/engaged sign. Each time the toilet is used, a trowel full of dirt is thrown into the hole. This has two functions: firstly it covers up what has been deposited and secondly it prevents smells. Really, properly constructed earth toilets don't smell if dug on well drained ground. To assure hygeine, two bottles of waterfree hand cleanser were kept on a little table outside the tent for everyone to use - and they did.

Having explained all that, I have to admit we didn't get involved in the digging after all. There was confusion about where it was to be sited to avoid the contents encroaching into the river that formed a field boundary, and so my man got other jobs done, like mowing 2 years worth of grass and wild plants so there would be somewhere to pitch tents. The hero who actually did the digging was Daniel, a 19 year old boy who had never camped before in his life. He wasn't the fittest of people and surprised everyone by refusing to take a break during the work. He said, simply, that he knew himself well enough to know that if he stopped, he would find it hard to start again and so he gritted his teeth and got the job done. Kudos to him!

Pitching the tent was an adventure all its own. The place was alive with frogs, toads and things that go jump in the night. The owners were very protective of their wildlife, warning they wanted no little casualties and so we had to carefully comb the area for movement, ushering mice and frogs out of the way, before putting down the groundsheet. Once all that was done and the tent was up, camp commander Tye lit a fire in the open hearth nearby. The hearth was simple and friendly, consisting of a circular area of packed earth surrounded by a circle of housebrick sized stones from the river and a wrought iron pot hanger to hold a kettle over the flames. We didn't have one, but will know better next time. The fire was kept going throughout the weekend, being built up to a bright blaze for sitting round in the evenings and a lower, quieter cooking fire for daytime. To one side was a small hole, from which a little dark coated shrew would emerge now and again, scamper into the trees a few feet away and come back a little later.

People began to arrive and we helped out by telling them where they were allowed to pitch camp (anywhere they liked).

(more to follow)