I read a piece on Camp Bits before my first night out and it saved me a few dumb mistakes. Six trips later I still pack roughly the same short list. Nothing on it is clever, and that is the point.

The tent gets pitched in the garden once before it goes in the car. Not to admire it. To find out which pole goes where, whether the pegs hold on soft ground, and whether I can put it up without swearing. The first time I skipped that step I spent forty minutes in the dark with a bent pole, a torch in my mouth and no clue which end was the door.

Then the sleeping bag, chosen for the season rather than for the label. A bag that claims to handle everything usually means I am cold in April and too hot in July. When the forecast is uncertain I take the warmer one. Being cold at two in the morning ruins more than the night.

Under the bag goes a mat. It sounds like nothing. It matters, because most of the cold comes up through the ground and not down from the sky. A thin foam mat does more for a warm night than an expensive bag.

Cooking is a small gas stove and one pot. One. Every extra pan is another thing to wash in the dark and another thing to forget on the grass.

A headlamp with spare batteries, because a phone torch dies at the exact moment you need both hands. For clothes I take three thin layers instead of one heavy jacket. Layers cover more weather, and I can shed one on the move and put it back on when I stop.

That is the whole kit. Everything else is a comfort I can add on a later trip.