The adventure and excitement of camping has never left me. There is little to beat sitting outside in the early chills of a sunny morning, huddling over a steaming mug of tea.

It was something that we always did as a family. I suppose we had travelled the world as small children, and consequently quite enjoyed chugging round Britain for our summer holidays, getting to know the countryside and keeping close to nature.

Most of our camping was done in Scotland. The countryside seems so much bigger there, and much more magnified, which makes education so much easier. I learnt all about edible mushrooms by the shores of Loch Rannoch at the age of 12 and geological formations in Skye two years later.

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I attended my last family camp in Inverness at the age of 18, just before leaving home for university. I drove up from Brighton, through the centre of London, in a patched up Renault 5. I had just played my first senior cricket match for the Yorkshire Ladies team and was on a high.

The world was there for taking, and I was filled with a naive confidence, but I still enjoyed sleeping under canvas.Twenty years on, and not so naive (well, I certainly wouldnt attempt to drive through the centre of London for a start) and I still enjoy my camping. It used to be the cheap holiday option, but nowadays you can get a fortnight away in Spain for half the price of a weeks pitch in the Lake District.

Despite that, I do try and get away at least once a month. Apart from my main holiday, I limit myself to a radius of two hours, as I have to get back to Middlesbrough every Sunday lunchtime to present Ask about Gardening on BBC Radio Cleveland.

Last week I stayed on a beautiful little site near Bridlington. It is set in a walled garden on the Thorpe Estate. Part of the deal is a free nature ramble for all campers, led by the Lord of the Manor himself.

Despite the downpour during the night, and the variable showers in the morning, a small crowd assembled at the entrance at 11am. On the dot, the plus-fours and tweed coat of Lord Mackenzie began the march.

He pointed out various trees and told us how to tell them apart. He showed the little ones how to fool their friends by grabbing hold of white dead nettle, pretending to be really hard, and how to fire off the rats tail from the plantains (something I hadnt done for at least 30 years).

He pointed out lime-loving rhododendrons and the bank-side homes of the water voles. He saved the best for last though. After a fairly steep climb up an old Roman road, followed by a short stretch through an ancient woodland, we came out on top of a long grassy slope. It was absolutely covered in the soft yellow petals of cowslips. They carpeted the hill, from top to bottom, but as your eyes accustomed to the oddity, you started to make out purple interludes.

These were orchids, en masse. They were the early purple and the green winged. A brown blurr gave away the presence of a roe deer doe, while a piercing cry up above signalled a buzzard. It was all so beautiful. The secret to the pretty valley was the fact that this little piece of land had never been cultivated. Right back to the time that the ice surrendered it up from beneath its frozen cap, it has escaped the metal of the plough and the manipulation of mankind. This was a snapshot of untouched Britain.

In the summer, the meadow grass would grow, and with it wild flowers such as knapweeds, cornflowers and melliots. Rare breed sheep are set on in the winter to give it a mow, and taken off in early spring so that they dont nibble any of the lovely flowers.

This is natural management of nature, which, with very minimal effort produces spectacular results. It did make me question why I put so much effort in trying to get my lawns at home and at work perfectly green, flat and weed-free. Maybe I could save a lot of blood, sweat and tears by just letting it go wild.

READERS QUESTION.

Liz is growing potatoes for the first time, and wants to know if earthing up is just a load of mumbo-jumbo, or if it is something that really needs to be done. If so, how does she go about it?

I know there are a lot of weird and wonderful gardening lores, but potatoes really do need earthing up Liz. The newly forming tubers must be well under the soil, or else they go green, and become poisonous.

Potatoes belong to the same family as the nightshade, so it is quite important to play by the rules. After a month or so you will see the first shoots. Let them get to about six inches or so, and then pull up the earth from around the shoots so that they cover them completely.

If you are growing in a container then you can simply add some more compost. A pile of car tyres is ideal, as you can just add another tyre to the top and fill that with soil.

* Brigid presents Ask about Gardening every Sunday on BBC Radio Cleveland 95FM from 1.00-2.00pm.

Questions will be answered on the day by e-mailing Cleveland.studios@bbc.co.uk, texting 07786200995 or phoning (01642) 225511. Alternatively, send questions to brigidpress@hotmail.com or The Clow Beck Centre, Old Spa Farm, Croft-on-Tees, Darlington, DL2 2TQwww.thenorthernecho.co.uk/columnists/feature/gardening.