Way back in the late 1970s the wife and I pitched our small, lightweight, ahead of its time two-person tent at Edale for the weekend, close, but not too close, to the larger tents of her other family members. After a day of walking and a night of revelry in The Old Nag's Head, my wife headed back to the tent first. After another pint I made my way to join her, crawling into the tent and reaching out to demonstrate my affection - only to feel a bearded face! After a few expletives, an exchange of accusations and traded blows in a confined space, my wife called from the adjacent tent to say that I'd got into the wrong one! Some eejit with an identical tent had pitched up right next to us, inevitably causing confusion in a mildly intoxicated neighbour.
PS It was a tent like
this one, if anyone can identify it.
PPS If you were the bearded neighbour, sorry! Bet you never pitched up next to an identical tent again!