By a year 8 student
Year 8 camp started off with a bang. And by “bang” I mean my alarm going off at 5am. After arriving at school, it is immediately apparent that some students have dressed for a Paris catwalk rather than a camp in a small town on the outskirts of Sydney: Katoomba (here’s a hint girls, diamantes were not on the “what to pack” list). After a tedious round of roll-marking, we load the buses (which were later deemed “the vomit bus” and the “non-vomit bus”) with our bags and then board them. Ah. Time to catch up on sleep that I missed because I had to get up at the un-godly hour of 5am. But wait, apparently some of the “Ovals” (the group of girls who sit on the oval at lunch) have decided that it would be hilarious if they sang pop music all the way to our first stop. And I use the term “sing” loosely. Very, very loosely.

We arrived at our camp in just enough time for a lunch of fish & chips (only second-bested by our extensive breakfast the following morning). Our cabins were typical of a public-school-style camp. You know the ones. Tiny rooms which basically consist of rickety old bunk-beds and a few cracks in the walls. Oh, and the coolest part of the camp? The in-ground trampoline. Too bad that according to Mrs. Royle, we can’t “invert”. For people too shy, tired or clumsy (or “athletically-challenged” as I like to put it) there was always the prospect of striking up an awkward conversation. And no, I don’t really care “what your room is like” or “who you are rooming with”, I’m just trying to make the time pass quickly so I get the hell out of this wretched camp!

First stop of our “OMG-super-fun-teamwork-bonding-getting-to-know-each-other-camp-adventure” was the Jenolan caves, a stand-out in our otherwise generic school camp. We explored the Lucas cave. And by “explore”, I mean kindly point out every stalactite and stalagmite that was shaped like a p---...well, you know. The caves were well and truly beautiful though, providing some great photos and some fond memories. After a two hour bus ride back “home” (which was mercifully free of any attempted Lady Gaga impersonations) we prepared for the “Christmas-Themed Disco”. The disco was somewhat successful. It was a perfect night besides the fact that the sound system was malfunctioning, it was pouring and most people would rather sit and start an awkward conversation or various card games. Students were denied access to their rooms during the disco. I mean, I can understand why Mrs. Royle would think if it was a bit dodgy that you would rather spend time (alone) in your room then talk to your friends-- but some of us were genuinely tired. Secret Santa ran relatively smoothly. Sure some people missed out but they did get something in the end thanks to the foresight of Mrs. Royle. Speaking of teachers, they were all pretty good. Except maybe Ktenis or that guy from “Canadia”- does anybody actually know who he is?

As we settled in for the night, secrets and ghost stories were told and sugar was consumed all round. Ok, so maybe “settled in for the night” was not an appropriate phrase to use in description of the night. We were forced to awake bright and early the next morning and packed our bags. Yes, not long after entering our cabins for the first time, we were asked to vacate them. Fun fact: We spent more time on our loyal bus than we did in our cabins. Many awoke tired and grumpy; however I am exceptionally pleased with myself for being only slightly irritable despite having a grand total of 10 hours sleep in the previous 48 hours-but for some inexplicable reason, my roommates beg to differ. The second-chapter of our epic adventure played out at Scenic world. Oh, it was scenic alright. There was the Scenic cableway, the Scenic skyway, and of course there was the Scenic railway which some were led to believe was a death-defying amusement ride (“Miss, are we going on a rollercoaster?”) when in fact it was just a kiddie-train on an angle. Some were forced to face their fears on the 250 metre high Cableway and others realised that lots or reinforced metal and glass probably isn't going to break. After a brief glance at one of Katoomba’s few tourist-bringers, the Three Sisters; we were off to a picnic area. Lunch was delivered to us by the staff of the cabins we stayed at. The “food” we were supplied with left much to be desired...and what were those awful spicy/chilli/burning “snacks”? After a “filling” lunch, we were separated in to two groups and began our bushwalk. Pointless really. I mean, why come to Katoomba to bushwalk when we could have exactly the same experience on Mt. Keira? When we returned to the picnic area, some thrill-seeking folk ventured down to a small waterfall to fill up their drink bottles- an action which I fully regret, after developing a throat infection from the unclean water. We embarked on our journey home after leaving the picnic area. Some were excited to get home but most were saddened by the prospect of having to unpack their suitcases when they got home. Alas, the day was saved.

Suddenly the highlight of our camp was clear: McDonalds. We each had $5 to spend at the fine-dining institute (which came out of the money we paid for camp). We had to pre-order our items. Mrs. Royle was over heard on the phone requesting 28 small chips, 12 frozen cokes, 9 frozen fantas, 18 medium chips, 13 McFlurries, 28 Soft-serve cones, 27 large cokes, 14 medium cokes and a Big Mac”. Upon our arrival she handed over a cheque for around $600, ensuring that the local McDonald’s made three days' profit in the space of one minute. That was about it for the camp. We laughed. We danced. We sang. We had a good time (Ok, maybe not number 3). It created new friendships and rekindled some old ones. Plus we got to see someone spend more than half a grand at Macca’s. Despite my negativity, I will admit that enjoyed it (to a limit). It wasn’t a complete failure- and that’s all I asked for.
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