Mobile Home and Camping

I just spent a couple of days in a "camping" as we fench say, sleeping in a mobile home.
I had never done it before and don't think I will do it again.
I had a deep feeling it wasn't my idea of vacation now it is a fact.
I must become (or be) an old unmarried lady (vieille fille) but I must admit that sharing the ups and down of my fellow citizen during my holidays doesn't send me to the Nirvana.
The endless question and quarrels about, what do we eat for lunch ? the beef is too cooked, who is going to walk the dog ? do you want antother pastis ? and (my favourite) do you know the last fashoniable dirty joke (which is going to be said loud enough to make sure that the entire crowd will hear it , wheter or not they want to) gives me very fast a big big headache and the urge to retreat as fast as possible to the closest desert island.

Mean I know but I really can't help it. I can't even find something funny to say about it!

So I guess I'm forever stuck to my backpack (the love of my life) and to the crowded indian buses (or any other country come to think of that) and the not always so kleen cheap hotels lost in the middle of nowhere.
But you will tell me the crowd is still there.
Yes I know but at least I don't understand what they say and everything around is so different so alive and (shame on me) so far away from the french!