Picnic season is in full swing. Whether you’re escaping to the park for pizza, the beach for fish and chips, or just to your back garden, flinging open a blanket and sitting down for food has a certain summer magic to it.
And while some would argue it’s not worth the bother of buzzing wasps, knocked over glasses of Prosecco, and the ache of crossed legs, if you’re a picnic fan, you’ll likely agree with this lot…
The crunch of sand in your back teeth is a vital component of any beach picnic. You don’t care how windy, wet or cold it is, you’ll be on the sand, hood up, sandwich in hand. There’s nothing better.
You have several kitchen cupboards filled with essential picnic kit – and it isn’t grimy like everyone else’s cobbled together al fresco dining ware. There’s an array of plastic plates and cutlery, corn on the cob skewers, tupperware tubs in every single imaginable size, special napkins, ice packs and flasks, pen knives and various picnic blankets. You have many, many shades of gingham.
Your definition of ‘picnic’ is pretty loose. A bucket of KFC eaten off the bonnet in a car park? That’s a picnic. A drunken burger scoffed on a kerb? Picnic. A supermarket sandwich eaten swiftly on a park bench? Picnic. Any excuse for a picnic counts.
There’s something so nostalgic about them. You can’t be the only person who played Teddy Bear’s Picnic throughout your childhood.
When everyone else turns up with a tub of hummus and a sharing bag of Kettle Chips, you’re the person holding aloft a homemade quiche, a tin of just baked sausage rolls and a batch of lemonade you threw together that morning.
Eating stuff out of tubs on the floor is just more fun. Regardless of the hassle of boxing it all up in the first place and hauling it outside – it just feels special.
Your picnic game proves you have turned into your nan – yes, you have sealed a damp cloth in a plastic ziploc bag for wiping down strawberry stained cheeks and elderflower cordial spills. It’s more environmentally friendly than wet wipes!
For you, a summer holiday is not a summer holiday unless at least one picnic is rained off and you all end up back in the car eating crisp sandwiches. It’s an essential ritual.
A picnic basket may be bulky and pretty impractical, but you don’t care. It’s basically your handbag from May to August.
There is no limit to the amount of veg you are willing to cut into batons for the sake of a picnic – even though they always get a tad sweaty and abandoned in favour of a sausage sandwich.