The National:

HIS predecessor enjoyed walking in Switzerland, and her predecessor apparently enjoyed long walks on his father-in-law’s estate on the Isle of Jura, so perhaps Boris Johnson feels he has a point to prove.

And since Brexit Boris has few friends in other parts of Europe. So, he’s apparently shunning his normal getaway destination of Mustique for the mists and mystique of the Scottish Highlands where he hopes to enjoy the delights of a few days camping.

So is it to be "camping" or "glamping", Boris? Since the glamorous form of camping (is there such a thing?) is normally enjoyed in the confines of an official campsite, glamping looks as though it’s out of the question.

Scotland’s campsites have been fully booked since the easing of lockdown and most campsite owners have decided not to open their toilet or shower facilities, so unless the Johnsons have a Personal Porta-Potti in their list of camping gear then I suspect he’ll have to go for the "wild" version of camping.

READ MORE: Boris Johnson spotted camping in remote Scottish location

I should point out that "wild" camping has nothing to do with whether you have a Porta-Potti with you or not, but is generally regarded as camping well away from roads or houses, and given Boris’s reputation in Scotland he would be well advised to stay as far away as he can from other folk.

And anyone who knows anything about camping in the wilds of Scotland in mid-summer will be well aware of Scotland’s Protector-in-Chief, the tiny insect that kills any chance of over-tourism.

The midge has a voracious appetite, particularly for pale-skinned southerners, and since it’s only the female of the species that bites, Blond Boris could be oven-ready for a bit of a doing.

Greasy Boris could well mean something quite different once he’s smothered himself in Smidge, Bug-Off or even Avon Skin-So-Soft. The thought of it gives new meaning to the term Eton Mess.

But perhaps I’m getting ahead of myself. Some reports suggest Boris the Clown’s Big Top is actually a rather smart-looking 1950’s style Boy Scout tepee that comes complete with a nice three-bedroomed cottage.

Perhaps he’s smarter than he looks. Every father with an infant child is aware of the "interruptions" of night feeding, so perhaps the tent in the garden is a getaway, an oasis where peace might reign even if only for a few hours.

And on the subject of rain it might be worthwhile for Boris to recall the wise words of our own Billy Connolly. “There’s no such thing as bad weather, only bad clothing.”

Mmm, far be it from me to contradict the Big Yin but anyone who camps regularly in Scotland will tell you that is pure rubbish. Bad weather most certainly exists and bad weather in a tent is not fun.

Boris doesn’t like storms. He tends to vanish when the first signs of thunder are heard but on the other hand he does like to vanish into fridges. He might feel quite at home in a freezing cold tent.

Happy camping Boris.

(Oh, and if you do find life in a tent tough you can always sneak back into Carrie's warm bed in that nice cottage. There's no shame in admitting you got it wrong, again.)