‘Bushcraft’ is camping Swallows-and-Amazons’ style. Catherine Fairweather sent her son, Max McCullen, 7, on a real adventure

With the summer holidays stretching ahead, and work calling, I needed to find a place where Max would be well looked after, imbibe lungfulls of fresh air, devour good food and run off his energy.

Mill on the Brue has been operating summer camps for nearly 30 years in a hidden Somerset valley with its own river, woodlands, vineyards, apple orchards and an organic market garden, from which the children indulge. The wine’s not half bad, either (not that the children drink it – it’s given as a leaving present to parents on the final day)!

Impeccable environmental and community credentials aside, what really attracted me to Mill on the Brue’s summer camps is that the place is family run and has a compelling, cosy and intimate atmosphere unlike the more institutionalised surroundings of other companies specialising in children’s holidays. Matt Rawlingson Plant (ex-army, ex-Gordonstoun) grew up here, and he and his mother Tricia, now run the operation, accepting only 60 children aged 8-15 at any one time.

They believe that the great outdoors is fun, a great leveller and a natural way for children to learn, gain self confidence and to make friends.

On our week, Italian and Spanish children arrived not speaking a word of English, but by the end were chatting away enthusiastically with the others.

Waiting to queue up for registration on the first day, however, my seven year-old is sweaty-palmed, trying to be brave and “cool” in front of the other children. Max is assigned to the Squirrel group, and is the youngest in a group of seven, with two instructors to look after his little tribe. I am glad I packed the cuddly rabbit he had said he was too old to bring as he tucks it gratefully beneath the duvet of the bunk in the tiny but immaculate dorm he shares with three other boys including Rudi, an old timer from London.

Back at the Long House, two teenage girls from London in Owl group are lounging on the verandah surveying the gorgeous landscape  with studied boredom. As they twist their hair around their fingers, they complain about the dearth of “fit” boys and openly curse their mothers for booking them in. I am equally unsure about Max, who, although sociable, has never been away from home alone. But Matt is already corralling the kids for a ball game and my son is off.
So I leave him, reminding myself not to call more than once during the week to ask how he was getting on (“he’s well, if a little tired,” they said). No wonder, given the stories he regaled me with several days’ later: camping, raft building, zip wiring, tunnelling, shooting, to name a few.

He wasn’t the only one who had been overwhelmed by his experience.

At Crazy Olympics, a fun event involving everyone in races and obstacle courses, I was struck by a transformation. Remember those sulky urbanites with attitude, twiddling  their hair on the verandah? Well, they had been replaced by rosy cheeked, spirited and enthusiastic girls who were whooping with excitement, helping out and cheering on all the smaller children, totally unself-conscious about behaving like children again. For them, the week was a liberation and they were as ecstatic about their night camping in the wilds, as they were about the final-day disco and their instructor’s legs!

Max and Rudi became firm friends. They still meet up and argue about their favourite memories – tuckshop, cocoa before bed, and spontaneous evening games of football, said Max.

Tunnelling and shooting and getting wet in the river, said Rudi.

Six months on – and Max still drops Mill on the Brue into general conversations: “Yes Mum,” he said, last night, “this pizza is pretty good, but have I told you how we learned to make the best pizza, ever, back at Mill on the Brue?”

For more information:
www.millonthebrue.co.uk

Read on for Annabel’s glamping adventures in Shropshire…