The expedition proved to be a party of eight, united by general sense of boredom and a marked propensity for intoxication as a means of enlivening our too dull realities. I didn’t mind the crowd, although I really had been looking forward to something a little more Walden and a little less Jamboree. We had raging campfires with songs and cold beer. The forest nights chilled deeply, leaving a gleam of silver frost on the crackling leaves. I walked a dozen miles before I sat in the sunshine with my books and wrote, leaving the scouts to bicker over who was the true master of the cooking fire.
Lord Malinov, Journals of Lord Malinov