Here’s the truth. You don’t need a motorhome to enjoy this. The club lets you rent a pod or a camping pitch. You can fake it till you make it.
Seriously, just go for the people-watching. It’s a live theatre of British eccentricity. There’s always someone hoovering the grass around their pitch. A vacuum cleaner. Outside. On grass.
You’ll leave feeling weirdly peaceful. And you’ll probably buy a levelling ramp for your car “just in case.” It happens to the best of us.
So pack a sense of humour. Bring a flask. Embrace the organized chaos of polite camping. Ashridge isn’t just a campsite. It’s a state of mind. And it’s absolutely splendid.
