Indoor camping is hard on the eyes

The folks who suggest that living in a tent in a wilderness campground or provincial park is a wonderful way to spend a holiday will be met with at least one dissenting vote.
I admire anyone who is brave enough and pioneerish enough to pitch a tent, blow up air mattresses, unfurl sleeping bags, catch fish for supper and spend an evening bailing rain water out of the tent.
Those folks tell, with enthusiasm, their camping stories and no doubt embellish certain escapades so their camping experiences will trump those of their friends.
I'm happy they were able to commune with nature and were so delighted with the outcome that they do it year after year. I don't begrudge them their experiences but I do not share their willingness to have such close communion with unfamiliar nature.
That's not to say I'm stuck up about using outdoor privies, that I don't enjoy a meal cooked over an open fire, and that a singsong around a campfire wouldn't be an enjoyable experience. I am, after all, a Prairie person who at some time has participated in all of those activities.
However, my idea of a holiday nowadays is one in which I don't have to do anything but drive to a pre-determined destination, check into a pre-registered hotel-motel-cabin complex, eat meals prepared by someone who is paid to do so and settle down with a good book back in the motel room where beds are made and clean towels are provided daily.
But there comes the problem. The pioneerish spirit that puts campers outside with only the moon and stars to light their way has gradually crept into the hotel industry.
Because hotel owners are good corporate citizens, they have embraced the idea of being environmentally-friendly. They encourage patrons to reuse towels, to be happy that bed linens are changed only every other day, to use air conditioners sparingly, and to turn off lights when leaving the room.
It is those lights that bother me the most. Again, to save money and of course, the environment, low-wattage bulbs are used and there are fewer lamps scattered about the room.
That is wonderful for the environment and the corporate bottom line, but my eyes protest when even removing the lampshades doesn't illuminate the room enough to allow a guest to read the community newspaper's fine print or to understand the text in a mystery novel saved for the holidays.
It is even worse in hotels that use those new spiral bulbs and it is especially frustrating in hotels that purchase lamps whose shades are non-removable.
During a recent hotel stay, three lamps plus an overhead fixture in the bathroom offered the only light. One of those lamps did not work at all, even after the bulb was changed. That left two lamps and the bathroom fixture.
Because we had an inside room, opening the curtain provided just enough light to observe half-naked men and women lounging by a small pool, who in turn could look into our room and watch me losing a battle with a lamp shade.
The only choice I had was to plunk my chair in the open doorway of the bathroom with my book slanted awkwardly to capture the most light. That worked until the room was required for other purposes.
The hotel receptionist was sympathetic but spoke the party line on the environment.
In the meantime, before we visit another hotel, I plan to buy myself a portable, battery-operated high beam lamp that will provide my own light by which to read and write and do anything else that requires illumination.
That way I won't have to fuss about the hotel, and the hotel will still be environmentally correct. Then my indoor camping experience will be just as wonderful as the ones my friends are enjoying outside.

Joyce Walter can be reached at 691-1259.