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A tent, a dog and two kids: our chaotic and colourful camping debut

27.8.2025

Translation: Jessica Johnson-Ferguson

An inflatable tent, two children, a dog and us parents: camping together for the first time on Lake Murten. What could possibly go wrong?

Two members of our family have no doubts about whether camping is a good idea: the kids. On our day of departure, they get into the car long before the first bag does. «Sure you don’t want to get out again?» I ask. «No!» they reply in unison, while my partner and I are running around and stressed out. «There’s no more room for this one.» – «Try stuffing it between the seats» – «What are we going to leave behind?» Even with a roof box the station wagon is too small. Or maybe we just packed too much for just a few days. We get rid of some excess volume by ditching the puke bucket for the drive, a children’s stool and the second toy excavator. Little did we know the latter would lead to a squabble later on. At least we can close the doors now. Works for me.

...and off we go with everything but the kitchen sink.

Our camping-experienced neighbour leans against the car window to bid us goodbye: «Take it easy, even if things don’t go as planned.»

We drive off, leave our village and I can feel the tension melting away. The kids are chatting, we adults are smiling again and the dog’s curled up in the trunk on his orthopaedic mat. This is how our camping trip begins.

The sat nav says it’ll take us an hour and a half to reach our destination of Salavaux. There are no traffic jams, as we’ve set off randomly on a Tuesday just before midday. Not because we’d planned it that way, but because we were unable to leave earlier due to a stomach bug, a packing marathon and constant rain. The kids are over the moon as we watch cows cross the highway bridge and pass asphalt paving machines. But 15 minutes in, there’s that inevitable question coming from the back seat: «Are we there yet?», closely followed by: «Can we watch something?» «You said we could later and now is later!» After 30 minutes, I give in and let them watch an episode of Peppa Pig.

We’ve already passed Bern-Bethlehem. Only 32 minutes to go. Some of the signs are in French: Neuchâtel, Lausanne, Genève. I’m getting holiday vibes already. Not long after, we’re welcomed to Lake Murten by a sign that reads: «Lac de Morat! Bienvenue / Willkommen! Murten / Morat!» We cross the invisible language border into the canton of Vaud, cheerful and happy.

Oh là là, la Suisse Romande!

«Oh my, look how pretty the houses are,» we agree. «The roofs are built differently in these parts.» Western Switzerland is just beautiful. «Maybe we should move here,» I say and my husband grunts. It’s the same thing I say every time we drive through Ticino.

The receptionist at the campsite gives us a map of the grounds and our pitch number. «Let’s just leave again,» I whisper to my husband when we find the spot. I can’t handle all the people sitting in front of their tents eyeing us up and down. «It feels so cramped.» But the children are already jumping around on our square plot, which mainly consists of brown, muddy earth. This must be where the previous tent was standing. Green blades of grass and a few flowers are sprouting all around it.

Right, time to unload the tent, tie the dog to a tree and give him his travel blanket. The kids are ecstatic and shouting, «We’ve got the biggest tent!» «Others have cool tents, but ours is the coolest.»

From the tent opposite us, I can hear a man snapping at his partner, «Seriously, you only packed one children’s book? Just one? I don’t believe it!» On campsites, it soon becomes clear that other people have problems, too. Tent walls are thin and the neighbours are close by.

I set a timer, as I’m curious to find out how fast we’ll be at setting up our inflatable tent called Air Seconds! An hour and a half later, I turn the timer off in a huff. Seconds? Don’t make me laugh! There’s always something. Someone needs the toilet, we can’t find a pair of slippers among all the luggage... you get the idea.

Almost done. All that’s missing is some air.

«Let’s just leave it the way it is,» I sigh, and we walk off to the lake’s beach. The dog’s pulling on the lead because there are so many other dog smells everywhere, and the children get right into building sandcastles, as they should. Feeling contented, I sit down on my beach towel and look out onto the lake. I bury my feet in the sand, right next to my dog’s paws. 20 degrees isn’t exactly the height of summer, but it’s perfect for the dog. Our six-year-old is happily splashing about in the cold water, only to run back to the tent with chattering teeth shortly afterwards.

Toe to toe. Taking a well-deserved paws.

Despite the Oropax I’ve stuffed into my ears, I struggle to fall asleep on our first night at the campsite. «Never again,» I think to myself. At the crack of dawn, one of our kids needs the toilet «urgently!». At the sight of my weary husband, I decide to take one for the team and take over. We cross the campsite with hardly a soul in sight. There’s something magical about dawn; plus the toilets are empty and a little cleaner than the previous night. After we’re done, my son snuggles back into the tent, and I go for a morning run with our excited dog. I take him down to the beach, where the sun’s rising over pale blue Lake Murten. I’m overcome by a feeling of being connected to nature.

I didn’t take a picture of the sunrise, but did snap the beginnings of a rainbow.

At the foldout breakfast table, our six-year-old starts dishing out compliments. «I couldn’t wish for a nicer brother than you!» and «You’re the best parents in the world, I wouldn’t want any others.» To which the three-year-old replies, «I do! I’ll go and find some other parents.» We all laugh out loud, which shakes off that last bit of tiredness. It’s nice being together.

Rain or shine, that’s the question

At 2 p.m. we’re all rushing around, putting everything away. Dark clouds are forming in the sky and the weather app has warned us of heavy rain. The kids are playing with the neighbours’ children and are laughing at Peppa Pig jokes. We brace for rain, but it doesn’t come. Somewhat confused, we realise that the app’s no longer predicting rain either. Later that day, there are a few drops, but that’s it. When you’re camping, you truly experience how the weather’s constantly changing Like so many things in life. It’s all totally manageable.

«Do you know what I love about this?» I ask my husband later that day. The children are listening to an audiobook in the tent, the dog fast asleep next to them. My husband and I are sitting in turquoise folding chairs that say «Relax», sipping on alcohol-free cider from the campsite shop. «Everything we need is right here.» I make a circular motion with my index finger. «You can go everywhere without even having to bother getting dressed properly.» «True,» he agrees and laughs, looking down at his tracksuit bottoms. «People probably come to this conclusion after two days of camping and then hold on to it for the rest of their lives.»

In the evening, I head towards the toilets and showers with the kids, clutching my toilet bag and towel. We pass the large washbasins, where other campers are washing up side by side and around the clock. Among them is my husband, who’s the only one without a washing-up bowl. It’s something my colleague Martin also mentions in his camping tips:

Guide
10 camping essentials for families
by Martin Rupf

We enter the ladies’ washroom, and aren’t alone. At 7 p.m. sharp, mums and dads are kneeling next to their offspring, brushing their teeth. My children are amazed and join in with the patience of angels. Unlike at home, where the importance of brushing your teeth regularly leads to arguments. I realise how many other parents in the world face the exact same challenges at the exact same time. And so, in this crowded bathroom, I suddenly feel like part of a larger community that I didn’t even know existed.

After my sleepless first night, I enjoyed the peace and quiet.

Abrupt departure

The second night, I sleep surprisingly well. I’m so tired from the first night that I can hardly hear the cars that occasionally pass behind the hedge, but do so right next to our heads. Surprisingly, nobody seems to be snoring within earshot either, not even our dog. I’ve also almost got used to trudging through the dewy grass to the toilet at night.

«Maybe this camping thing will work out after all,» I think and turn onto my less painful shoulder. This self-inflating, expensive mattress with foam is surprisingly uncomfortable. Nevertheless, I fall into a deep sleep. Until I wake up in the morning, before everyone else. I have a headache and a fever. I guess that was it for our camping adventure. We would’ve set off today anyway, but to another travel destination, not home. «Nooo, why are we going home already?» the children say with great disappointment. «Such a shame!»

Luckily, my partner does all the packing that morning. I lie around uselessly and suffering. Curled up with the dog on the dog blanket. The children are digging a deep hole next to me. «You’ll have to fill that up again before we leave,» I tell them firmly. «Sure, mum,» they say and shovel back a bit of earth with their excavator. I fill it a little more with the shovel. «Wow mum, you’re really good at this!» they marvel.

Their dad’s groaning because he can’t fit the tent in the car. Contrary to all advice, we didn’t set it up in the garden for a trial run, but right here on the campsite. When we crammed everything we could into the car two days prior, we hadn’t considered that the tent wouldn’t be as small as it was when it was newly packed.

A camping neighbour comes over and says, «You see these inflatable tents more and more often. Would you recommend it?» He points to his one across from ours. It’s similar in size, but built with poles. Would we? Ours is heavy and bulky. Dismantling it was faster than assembling, and probably even faster with some practice.

Finally, we manage to force-shut the car. We head home. This time, with Ibuprofen, traffic jams, more screen time and a sigh, «Today would’ve been the day we would’ve got into the groove.» Even the sun comes out. Next time, we’ll stay longer and hopefully be healthy. Despite all the challenges, we want to try this camping thing again. Probably.

It’s highly probable that this tent only looks like this once, namely before it’s set up.

Verdict after two days of camping

Pros:

A sense of adventure that brings you closer as a family
Nature right outside the tent, experiencing the weather, being outdoors
Affordable and last-minute bookings usually fine
Broadening your horizon by getting to know a variety of people
Living the simple life, making do with little
Everything you need within walking distance
Happy children who quickly find friends and can roam around freely
A sense of community with other campers
Dogs are welcome

Cons:

Not much privacy or ways to retreat
Lots of noise (thin tent walls)
Uncomfortable, restless nights
Close to your neighbours on full campsites
Eating healthily takes some effort
Having to deal with other people
Being exposed to weather fluctuations
Time-consuming tent assembly and dismantling

What do you make of camping as a family? Tell me about it in the comments!

Header image: Ann-Kathrin Schäfer

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Ann-Kathrin Schäfer

Editor freelance

simon.balissat@digitecgalaxus.ch

I'm really a journalist, but in recent years I've also been working more and more as a pound cake baker, family dog trainer and expert on diggers. My heart melts when I see my children laugh with tears of joy as they fall asleep blissfully next to each other in the evening. They give me inspiration to write every day - they've also shown me the difference between a wheel loader, an asphalt paver and a bulldozer.

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A tent, a dog and two kids: our chaotic and colourful camping debut

Oh là là, la Suisse Romande!

Rain or shine, that’s the question

10 camping essentials for families

Abrupt departure

Verdict after two days of camping

Pros:

Cons:

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