LESSONS LEARNED ALREADY!
I don’t want to bore anyone with the details of the transition from cosy bungalow with central heating, hot water, nice shower and flushing loo to cosy motor home with choice of three types of heating- electric, gas or extra clothes. You could include jumping up and down and hot water bottles if you want to be pedantic. We do have hot water, shower is a bit meh- some days you wash your hair and your body, some days you wash your hair sort of. More often than that you settle for mush and muff wash. We do have a flushing loo but we know it takes just 17 litres of the whole shit and shebang to be full. Mr Husband, Bart, prefers posh poos on posh loos and seeks out every opportunity for just such a job. Me? Well I have little choice with the angry bowel I have. But let’s not go there today. That doesn’t mean I will another day either. But two weeks in, after struggling to wipe me arse in a tiny space I have worked out that if I swivel the loo to an angle I have more room- even more if I open the door under the sink! The shower and the loo was designed for skinny bitches with tiny pert bottoms. Not cake shaped menopausal 50 something’s with dodgy hips and knees. The shower takes some kind of upright limbo to navigate and woe betide you should be lucky enough to do a full turn abut shimmy and turn your back on the shower because it is then your arse hits the on/off handle and you find yourself without water. Then you have to endure cold water before it reaches the scalding stage. I am beginning to prefer the mush and muff method.
So with all our ‘stuff’ in two storage units (it was just that little bit too much) and my little car Bob parked up for an extortionate rate alongside another unit, and Mr Husbands car with his new found keeper, we are now fully living in Bella.
We spent the first night on the drive of the old place. I know, little adventurers us. We still had the keys, access to the bath and the shower and free parking! Wey hey!. Then the first, first night, the first proper night we ventured all of a mile or two at the most to the estuary. We are familiar with the estuary- we have sat there with many a fish and chip supper watching the tide come and go, the Canadian geese and the water sports. Because locals made so much fuss at one point motor homes are only allowed between 8am and 10pm, although you can still pay for 24 hours. However, it’s quiet and dark. It’s December in the middle of a pandemic- who is going to stop a galloping horse to investigate? Nobody, probably. We have had a couple of nights there now, the second was a bit more testing because it was windy and raining and the van rocked from side to side. LESSON 1 in parking up- check the weather- check your location-don’t park at the estuary on wet and windy night.
We have spent a couple of nights a little further from home- at a picnic area- no overnight camping or staying but it’s always jammed solid with a mixture of motor homes and lorries. The lorries think they own it. Well, the drivers of said lorries- I don’t think lorries think much at all. The second time we parked there we got wedged in between two juggernauts, the second squeezed in into the space in front of us and kept getting so close to Bella our hearts and stomachs and everything else besides were in our mouth. LESSON 2- Leave enough room in front to ‘escape’ but not enough for a lorry to squeeze into. Oh and don’t park too close to the main road- it is way too noisy.
We decided we needed a hook up- that’s a hook up not a hooker. We joined the camping and motor home club or something so we chose a place out of there because by then we had ventured to Dorset. We were getting braver now. It said it was working farm- although to be fair we didn’t see much evidence of that and not a cow anywhere. The camp site was their garden- their lawned garden and too muddy really. Not much bigger than your average suburban garden at that. We asked for hard standing and ended up on a bit of gravel standing just big enough for Bella- it was however just in the yard in the middle of the farming equipment and we hooked up over the fence of the ‘camping site/ come back garden’. Our hose didn’t reach the water and poor Mr Husband, Bart spent over an hour filling his water barrel and trying to empty it into Bella. He was freezing poor little love. I tried to help but I am not much help with this shit to be honest. They had a loo and a place to do laundry but it was out of order. So Mr Husband had to wait to do his posh poo until the next day. We had booked two nights here but only stayed one. LESSON 3- don’t book more than one night at a time if you can possibly help it- certainly don’t pay up front – until you have checked it out, and checked ALL the facilities will work for you. An additional sneaky lesson here for us was MAKE SURE you have a selection of hose fittings and a long enough hose. 10m is not enough. Who knew?
The next two nights we picked another site from our book. A delightful place in Bridport called Bide Yer. We had everything easily accessible- even an outdoor loo in a shed for posh poos for Bert. He was chuffed. We had nice views and we slept lovely- we rested a bit. This will be on our go to list.
Then it has to be said, we longed for a bath, and we longed for a hot shower. A proper hot shower with all the trimmings. So we booked into a travel lodge. The bath was nice if you are a midget but it was nice to sit in some hot water. We took full advantage of posh poos and hot showers and all the trimmings. The bed was hard though and the first morning we woke up and we longed to be back in Bella. We swung by our daughters house and she did three loads of washing and got it all dry. My little star.
We have had some tense moments of jumping up at stupid o’clock to move – we have figured having the bed made up to jump into when we park for the night and to move before we make tea and coffee is essential on most park ups. Don’t hang around all day in the place you intend to sleep- unless you have booked into a campsite of course. They let you stay all day. Move if it is only down the road. We have been soooo exhausted at times. We have woken early, not slept properly. I fret so I have done lots of fretting and some. Then for an encore- yes you guessed it – I fretted. To the outside world I am full of positivity, sensibility and a little bit of shit and giggles. But trust me, there is more to me- there is the anxious me, the fretter, the worrier. Bart is great- he balances me! Hoorah for Barrt.
I write this from a gorgeous location in the woods a
campsite in Rattery in Devon called Ashbourne Woods. It has posh loos, showers
that sort of shower you provided you can master keeping your hand on the knob
to keep the shower running and using the other to extract shower gel and
shampoo from your bottles and washing yourself as well. But today we have clean
hair and stuff. There is an onsite laundry room, kitchen with fridge, freezers,
kettles toasters and a vending machine with drinks and chocolate. We booked two
nights and have a booked a third. It is my happy place. I could break the tradition and live here!
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