I went to camp as a kid. The first summer was a "Day" camp, so they picked us up in the morning, and dropped us off at night. I don't really remember much about that one, but the camp site wasn't too far away.
The "Sleep Away" camp I went to the following 6 years was upstate, so nowhere near what most would call a "city". It was on the shore of a large lake, so we had swimming and boating available. We also had arts and crafts projects and such, and even though we had 2 counselors for each cabin, we "elected" one or two of the campers to be "leaders", so it was a nice experience. In fact, I was our cabin leader my last summer up there.
Of course, the first couple of years I cried when it was time to leave my parents for the summer (even though I knew they'd be up for a weekend to visit), and cried when it was time to go home, because I had so much fun all summer. I was pretty sure I was going to continue going there every summer, and eventually become a junior counselor myself once I reached 18, and then a counsel when I reached 21, but we moved the following June, and my mom wanted me to stay home to meet, and get to know, new friends in the new neighborhood, so I never went back there.
My brother met my sister-in-law there, as they were working as waiter and waitress in the adult camp, so I always saw them when we were in the mess hall for meals.
The only bad thing about those summers is, that's when I caught all my childhood diseases . . . Chicken Pox, German Measles and Mumps. A great way to spoil a nice time. In fact, with the German Measles, my parents had to come to get me and take me home, because it was too contagious to just spend some time in the infirmary as I did the other times I was sick in camp.