Slack flap

In early June, I set out on my first solo trip with Lenny and the rooftop tent. I was very pleased with the photo I had taken that first evening: Lenny in full view, with his rooftop tent completely unfolded! Until the Expert of Experience saw the photo and dryly said, "The flap is hanging slack!" Not only did he set up rooftop tents in no time, but by the looks of it, he also mastered the art of full rhyme. 

Lenny in full, or at least almost....

I admit: I've never had it in for limp apple fritters, but limp tent fritters? That was an afterthought that night. After all, with my 1 meter and a mere 65 centimeters, I had set up that rooftop tent all by myself. Not in an Olympic record time, but practice makes perfect. 

By the way, they didn't phrase it that way for nothing, I've noticed. You can take that "practice" and "baring" quite literally. Before leaving, I had attended a two-hour Sunday practice session with the Experientialist, to get to grips with all the ins and outs of the rooftop tent. With my reputable mechanical acumen (notttttt), I had been very reluctant to do this and had put it off time and again, until two days before departure. When I finally mastered the technique after 120 minutes of toil, I was very happy that it worked and ... that it was over. A bit like childbirth, in other words.

Meanwhile, after folding that tent open and shut about fifteen times, I've got the hang of it. And in all circumstances: in a campsite, in a parking lot, in the wild, early in the evening, after midnight, with light, with moonshine, in pitch darkness by touch, sober and after an evening of crémant de Loire.

And the tight flap? That, too, has worked out just fine. At least, on the days when I feel like tightening the sides ;-)