It was around 7 p.m. on the island of Oléron. Camping for the first time, Cécile and Carine saw campers passing with their chairs in their hands. They were surely going to have a drink in another tent. That day, a summer leitmotif was born: their holidays could only be successful if they were invited to have a drink with the neighbors.
In the movie Camping, by Fabien Onteniente (2006), this aniseed ritual is the subject of an anthology scene. With a “couillette” (a pastis dispenser), Jacky – played by Claude Brasseur – tries to rationalize the filling of glasses, which seriously went wrong the previous season: “I control the consumption, said the camper, pouring a millimeter dose. Because I would like to point out that last year we hit thirty bottles in a fortnight, 25% of the holiday budget, so that’s fine, huh! » Cécile and Carine, they were not invited so often. Nor others, for that matter. Legendary, the camping aperitif is experienced above all as a moment of nostalgia.
Yesterday evening, an aperitif was held well on the camper site of a retiree at the eco-camping Le Valserine, in Chézery-Forens (Ain), in the Haut-Jura. “We still find that in people over 50. It’s a pleasure for elders”remarks Samuel Ringot, young buyer of this municipal campsite. There, aficionados can take part in aperitifs which count up to twenty people and still turn to pastis and rosé. “Among 30-40 year olds, it gets lost, observes Samuel. They prefer to come and sit at the campsite bar. » They love beer, want to taste the local IPAs.
Neighbours Day
In its idealized version, camping promotes social mixing: everyone is equal before setting up a tent or a puddle of mud. We are talking about “the spirit tempts” about the solidarity that is installed side by side in all the campsites of the world. We marvel at the idea that when a caravan comes off the trailer, everyone rushes to help its owner. “If you get stuck, you’re never alone, and anyone who’s forgotten their mattress inflator doesn’t wait two minutes”assures Raphaël Bony, manager of the Brévedent campsite (Calvados), near Lisieux, in Normandy. “When I was traveling in a caravan, to move it it took three or four people, and to say thank you, we invited you to an aperitif”, recalls Alan Perny, who regularly went camping with his wife. Now the operation is controlled by a motor. There are fewer people to thank when there are fewer helping hands to ask for.
You have 58.02% of this article left to read. The following is for subscribers only.