Economy is one powerful motive for camping, since after the initial outlay upon equipment, or through hiring it, the total expense can be far less than the cost of hotels. But, contrary to a popular assumption, it is far from being the only one, or even the greatest. The man who manoeuvres carelessly into his twenty pounds' worth of space at one of Europe's myriad permanent sites may find himself bumping a Bentley. More likely, Ford Escort will be hub to hub with Renault or Mercedes, but rarely with bicycles made for two.
That the equipment of modern camping becomes yearly more sophisticated is an entertaining paradox for the cynic, a brighter promise for the hopeful traveller who has sworn to get away from it all. It also provides - and some student sociologist might care to base his thesis upon the phenomenon - an escape of another kind. The modern traveller is often a man who dislikes the Splendide and the Bellavista, not because he cannot afford, or shuns their material comforts. but because he is afraid of them. Affluent he may be, but he is by no means sure what to tip the doorman or the chambermaid. Master in his own house, he has little idea of when to say boo to a maitre d'hotel.
From all such fears camping releases him. Granted, a snobbery of camping itself, based upon equipment and techniques, already exists; but it is of a kind that, if he meets it, he can readily understand and deal with. There is no superior 'they' in the shape of managements and hotel hierarchies to darken his holiday days.
To such motives, yet another must be added. The contemporary phenomenon of car ownership, which has been mass-produced and which has invaded every aspect of modern life, has helped bring about a situation in which the once - instinctive identification of the person with the place has been weakened. Instead, we have a far more impersonal relationship with the places through which we pass: we view them through car windows at high speed and we are more concerned with the cars in front of us, the cars behind us, the cars to the side. Our sense of place is not the same as that of the ancient hunters and gatherers who knew every rock and tree in their territory. Nor is it the same as that of the peasant who has a deep and personal relationship with the land on which he has worked for generations. In this new situation, camping offers a way of re - establishing a connection with the land, of getting to know a place more intimately than we could from a car window or a hotel balcony. It is a way of getting back to nature, of experiencing the world in a more direct and less artificial way. To some people, camping has become a spiritual as well as a physical escape.