Stuck in the Mud
A three-week trip to France a few years ago coincided with the wettest April ever, and there were few hard-standings on sites we stayed at. Moving off our pitch by le loire rivière, after a heavy night’s rain, our tyres dug deep into the mud and the plastic runners, we’d bought to provide grip in such circumstances, just shot out from under the tyres. We provided great entertainment for watching campers as we struggled to release the van from the quagmire. No one offered to help and we were fortunate to eventually drive onto tarmac.
On another trip to Swanage, we watched a campervan drive forwards onto the adjacent pitch and, with wheels spinning wildly, get stuck. The lady passenger tried to push without success, and we heard choice words spoken between her and her husband whilst they changed places.
All very entertaining and, as much as I wanted and remembering only too well our predicament in France I couldn’t just leave them to it – so went to help. Positioning myself at the back of the van, with the husband at the side, we told his wife to gently ease forward. However, she accelerated like she was on the starting grid at Le Mans and, with a terrific roar, the wheels spun at an incredible rate, splattering mud all over my clothes, on my face and glasses and in my hair!
We did manage to move the camper and I did have a change of clothes, but I jokingly said to the embarrassed couple, “That’s the last time I help anyone!”
