I don't simply dislike camping. I don't simply hate camping. No, I despise camping. I despise it with every fibre of my being. I see absolutely no point to it. Why would any sane person want to sleep in a tent, on the ground, with inadequate or non-existent toilet and showering facilities, while having to haul every little thing with you so you can "rough it" at mealtimes?
My family never went camping. My father had served overseas with the Canadian Army in World War II. He'd had enough "roughing it" to last a lifetime. The only time I ever went camping was with Doofus at the Ukrainian Festival. He brought his tent but forgot to bring the tent poles. So we had to prop up the tent as best we could with a couple of fallen tree branches. That, plus the Manischewitz incident, confirmed my bad opinion of camping.
Refusing to go camping has been a real dating liability for me in the lesbian community. Camping is the official pastime of the Lesbian Nation. Lesbian women live for camping. They dream of it. They camp as much as possible. Entire festivals, like the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival, are organized around camping. Just try to find a girlfriend who doesn't want to go camping! Not easy, not easy at all.