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