town and country

Growing up in Alaska you kind of take camping for granted. Everyone goes camping! Summer? Camping! Growing up poor-ish it was always regular man camping- to me anyway. Which just means I've never been camping in a motor home, and a bit snooty about it to tell the truth. Motor home? That's not camping!
I love me a good campfire. Ahhhhhh that is the best. The smell! The crackle noises. Mmmmmm. Just the thought brings back the comfort and excitement, which I know sounds like an odd combination. I always felt comfort from the heat of the fire and the company of my friends. The excitement was the notion that it is summer, nothing can stop me! Summer in Alaska is funny. You spend all year waiting for it because it's sooooo special and beautiful, and it's light ALL THE TIME, so you have the illusion that it will last forever.
I have a dear sweet cousin who grew up in city life on the east coast. As kids we were very city mouse and country mouse. Very. I was a kid. Kids get dirty. I have scars all over. Summer is smelling like mosquito repellant and campfire smoke. She spent summers inside reading and doing activities her mother had set aside for her. Despite differences, we adore each other. So, color me surprised when my polished city cousin says to me "oh, I might go camping with some friends next weekend." I burst out laughing. "Have you ever been camping in your life?" "No!" Oh, this was good. I can't even picture it. She went on to explain. "Well it doesn't sound so bad the way they do it. They bring curling irons and hair dryers. I could do that."
Huh?