The Story So Far…
We finally took possession of our caravan at the beginning of
December. It has been in Biarritz, France for the last four years.
We'd had four fantastic summers in the caravan but it dawned on us
that we really miss it during the other eleven months of the year.
So at the end of another blissful family summer holiday we hooked
up and I towed it home and yep, I nailed it! Didn't roll it
once!!
Actually it wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be, having
had nothing to do with the physical side of caravanning for five
years, by the time I'd hit Spain on route to Santander and the
ferry to Plymouth, I was King of the Road. There was a slight drama
with the number plate on the day we left, as in not having one. I'd
changed cars since I first towed it down and the old plate was
still in place. The chances of finding anyone in the Basque country
happy to knock up a number plate, and a British one at that,were
slim to invisible to say the least. They weren't uncommon but
we felt a homemade cardboard effort would really let the Sea Foam
green Rivron Ranger down, so having carefully wrenched the plate
off the boot of the new car - what the bloody hell do they stick
them on with, Kryptonite? - we called by Frances premier
hardware store, 'MrBricolage' for some, "tape de sticky, deux sided
s'il vous plait?"
Once we were back in Blighty we headed to the 'Bailey's of
Bristol' factory where some heating was to be, rather
embarrassingly, re-installed. Our thinking, when we had the
van customised back in 2007 was that as we were going to leave it
in the South of France - a lovely, sunny, hot place whenever we
were there - heating was surplus to requirement. Surly much better
to have three handy draws under the wardrobe - ideal for all those
bathing costumes - than a bulky heating unit. Back then we were,
I'm slightly ashamed to say, fair weather vanners, a beach hut on
wheels is what we were after.
The good people at Baileys suggested we use the 'Whale' space
heater company, based in Northern Ireland, as they could fit some
under floor heating units, which was ideal as I wouldn't have to
find a new home for the Spedos - result or what?! We waved goodbye
to the caravan and carried on our journey home to North London,
where, as we unpacked, sense was made of the numerous people on the
M4 frantically gesticulating as they overtook. I do hope I
was flashed at least once for speeding on that journey home. I
bought another number plate the following day.
We had a slight hick-up when it came to finding a site close to
home that would look after a caravan as long as ours. Coming in at
just under 26 feet we seem to be a tad on the large side, but once
we'd enlisted the help of the Caravan Club, a perfect site near
Cambridge was sorted with no bother. Due to circumstances beyond my
control, or rather cowardice on my part - I arranged for Bailey to
deliver. Please try and see it from my point of view; it was
dark by half past three in December and I had a look at the map and
there were a whole bunch of minute winding roads leading to the
site and you just knew there wouldn't have had a street lamp
between them, and I would never be able to get from Bristol to
Cambridgeshire before nightfall, and… and… O.K. - I bottled
it.
On the first Saturday available, Mon and I headed off to catch up
with the caravan. We had every intention of spending a whole day
sorting things out and getting used to our new winter surroundings.
The drive out to Cambridgeshire was in beautiful, bright, December
sun, but the moment we turned off the comedically narrow lane and
we caught sight of the caravan, the heavens opened - funny
that…
As Mon didn't want to get her hair wet we weren't able to get all,
if any, of the jobs done, but we did go into the beautiful local
village of Ashwell, what a charming place, and the pubs! They
looked so cosy and inviting and… closed - well it was three in the
afternoon - and I counted at least three of them! That and the fact
there was, adjacent to the village store, the village Indian
restaurant, The Star of India - what more do you, or rather 'I',
want in a winter caravanning weekend? London pub hour's
maybe.
We popped into the delicatessen called "Rhubarb and Mustard-
Purveyors of fine things" and Mon was delighted with the local
produce they sold and the very impressive, if small, coffee bar to
the rear. We had visions of the pair of us purchasing our authentic
Americana's as we set off for our invigorating walk with the dogs
over the Cambridgeshire countryside.
Yes we now have two dogs; you have to understand I am not a dog
lover. Over time I had got used to our five-year-old
Yorkshire Terrier, the one that's a dog, called Bear, that cost a
monkey. 'It', sorry, 'He' was just turning into one of those
happy little creatures who understood exactly what was expected of
him, he stopped being in your face a long while ago. I wouldn't let
on to the family but I am quite fond of him and actually miss him
when we are in France. Then, three months ago, I turned my
back for two minutes and for some crazy reason the family decided
to get a puppy, half pug half spaniel - a 'spugiel' - called
'Sidney.' The family are crazy about him, I think he is a pain in
the backside and I'm not alone as Bear thinks he's a pain in the
hindquarters too.
The reason I am telling you all this is because our life is now
ruled by 'the dogs', so at our lovely new winter caravan site we
have to look for dog walks. The thought of Sidney, who I am
convinced has got a bit of mountain goat in him somewhere, leaping
around our Designer Guild upholstery, and pretty much doing exactly
what he wants on our pink rubber flooring makes my shoulders drop,
and I've yet to find out if any of the pubs even let dogs in. Mon
was looking at the walks leaflet we picked up at the site office,
and telling me how great is it going to be with both the dogs with
us (in the words of my teenage daughter) OMG!-The Whirling Dervish
that is Sidney in the caravan. In this country. In the
winter. What have we done?
But now back in London, settling down on the sofa with Ned for
some Christmas TV viewing, we caught, 'Bear Grylls Wild Weekend
with Jonathan Ross' a show that saw the pair of them roughing it
and being at one with nature. How fantastic was that? We
can't wait to do the same, all be it in a little more comfort,
thanks to the newly returned Rivron Ranger. Ned, our youngest, is a
fully paid up member of the Scouts and Bear Grylls is top dog in
the world of scouting, we can't wait to get out there and discover
a hidden wilds of Cambridgeshire, with the dogs in tow of
course. I'll let you know how it goes…..
Cheers,
Rowland
Comments
-
Great story Roland. I know what you mean re the dogs as exactly the same happened to me. I've just got used to our 7 year old Parson Russell, when wham! Along comes a four legged nutter (Eddie). Ah well... I suppose I'll go with the flow?
In April we head for Scotland for aweek in our camper an, two dogs and a 14 yr old. Wish me luck! :-)
0 -
Come on Rowland, get over the towing fears. As a mere woman, I have been towing the caravan for the past 20 years. It is not difficult - the van tends to follow the car. Just get yourself onto one of the Club's courses, gain the confidence and away you
go. The more you tow the easier it gets - its also why the van has wheels.0
