Anyone for camping?

I'm a city girl. A big fan of the big smoke. Always have been, and I guess I always will be.

I like the fast and furious, non-stop nature of living in London. I like the nicely-claustrophobic feel of it all. And, should I get a rare and bizarre need for some open space I'll head for Hyde Park or somewhere similar, just a few steps from the tube.

I've even been heard to ask, once or twice, "what's so great about the great outdoors anyway ?"

So with all that in mind, I'm struggling to work out why I've agreed to go camping. And not just camping, but hiking too. In the Highlands. In the middle of October. Brrrr. The worst thing in all this is I don't think I was even drunk when I agreed.

My last experience of camping was aged 13 when I was in the girl guides. And that wasn't entirely successful. On the first night I had spaghetti bolognaise (accidentally) poured down the only pair of jeans I'd brought with me, I was later nearly stabbed in the foot by a clumsy fellow guide who was on cooking duty, I also had to take a turn at helping to empty the chemical toilets, which promptly made me vomit, and I spent most of the time sobbing in a dubiously erected wash tent, because I wanted to go home.

As for the hiking bit, erm... pass. Unless walking up a very busy Oxford Street in high heels counts.

All this means I don't even own a pair of wellies, let alone walking boots, hiking trousers or anything vaguely waterproof.

Well, I didn't until earlier this week. Now my purse is considerably lighter (it turns out this hiking business is quite expensive), having traipsed around all manner of "outdoor" shops.

And now I am in possession of a lilac, all singing, all dancing, wind proof, waterproof, moutainproof, throw-anything-you-like-at-it-proof jacket.

(I had wanted black, to make it vaguely more stylish, and so that I might one day actually wear the thing again. But I was told in no uncertain terms that if I get lost in the mountains, I'll need to be wearing something bright and colourful to alert the rescue team. Which is a very comforting thought, obviously.)

I have big walking boots which feel like I'm walking around with kilo weights attached to my feet, walking trousers which even Simon Cowell would say are too high-waisted, and a thermal base layer in a rather garish orangey-pink colour which clashes with my hair, bought only because it was on sale, and half the ridiculous price they usually charge for these things.

Last week we tested out my new kit plus a rather heavy rucksack and went "hiking" around a country park in Kent. At one point we even stopped to make a nice cup of tea on the gas stove, and put up the tent in a field, much to the annoyance of a local farmer, and much to the bemusement of people out for a sunday stroll.

So far, so ok. And I'm proud to say I didn't whinge, which surprised even me.

But that was three hours, and next week - the big adventure - will be three days worth, albeit with clean air and breathtaking views, and minus the sounds of a motorway in the distance.

Maybe I'll come back refreshed and invigorated, with a new found love of the outdoors and an urge to buy myself a pair of jodphurs.

Or maybe... maybe I'll just put it down to experience, and put my "new kit" on ebay.

But as a wise friend once told me, if you don't try these things, you'll never know how much you hate them!