Friday 19 June
We pull up outside our house and empty Miranda straight into the caravan before inching her out of her cwtch onto the road. Once that was done I get my fingers working on my ipad looking for a pitch for the weekend. The CC at Pembrey and Golden Coast are quickly ruled out as they are fully booked due to the Welsh Game Fair this weekend but I manage to bag a pitch at the CC site at Gowerton - Costa de Pont y Cob.
The van is in a sorry state and is covered in streaks of bird shit, I am of the opinion that Nelson's column is in a better state, so we detour to Morrisons at Trostre to give her the good news with the jet wash for 10 mins before heading to site.
In our haste to leave I had totally forgot to fit my towing mirrors, this made the last few hundred meters to site along the marsh road and over the narrow humped back bridge a little interesting to say the least. I was concentrating that much that I almost missed Rugby Ref and his better half making their way in the opposite direction towards their static at Broughton.
The warden informs Herself that we were lucky as we booked the last available pitch for the weekend. I reverse onto a pitch in our usual space, where there is a gap in the treeline that affords a view over the marshes, and we are set up in no time at all.
Before we could complete the setting up procedure, Herself informs me that she is under orders to return to reception STRAIGHT AWAY to inform Heir in Charge what pitch we have taken. She's gone and is returning flanked by the two male wardens as they march back to out pitch. My mind is working overtime as they approach, racing to work out what rule we have broken. We are on pitch 116, but Herself had read the number on the peg upside down and told Heir in Charge that we were on 119. The sarcastic dressing down that ensued was unnecessary, but I join in just for good measure.
A brief trip out to Asda for beer and a curry is as far as we went and we return to site to set up our chairs at the back of the van to make the most of the evening sun shine, guzzling beer with a view to the west, looking over to the promised land as the sun sets.
Saturday 20 June
I'm up quite early and take the dogs out for a walk. It's not sunny but it's quite warm, and a couple of laps ensures that my forehead is like Niagra falls and my tee shirt sticking to me. I'm a right mess by the time we head back to the van and bump into Herself's cousin who is also staying on site.
The site is coming to life and smells of frying bacon I look out of the window and the magpies are fighting over food left in dog bowls and an aging hippy stopping in an aging hippy lorry does her early morning stretching exercises alfresco.
We skip breakfast, pile into Miranda and head west towards the game fair being held at Pembrey. It's a big event and very popular, so it's always best to get there early before the throngs.
We hand over the (extortionate) £12.50 each and are directed to the car park. The next few hours are spent looking at guns, knives, more green and waxed clothing than is good for you, chickens, hounds and 4x4 vehicles.
Having already been ripped off for £10 for two burgers there was no way I was going to part with another £12 for two pints, so we both decided that we'd seen enough and headed for home.
Well not quite, we stopped at the Sandpiper in Pwll for a pint in the beer garden (once we'd found the dog friendly way in, which involved leaving the car park, finding a path and taking a walk along the lake side until the steps to the beer garden comes into view).
Herself had suggested nibbles, some nuts or crisps or something, and was none too impressed when I came back our empty handed. the atmosphere at our table was a little frosty until this arrived and harmony restored once more. A platter to share ..... Herself was allowed the lemon and celery whilst I devoured the rest.
Back on site we set up the chairs once more at the back on the van, I pour us a few pints of scrumpy that Coupons had bought us in Devon and we settle down for a few hours of "Personal Contemplation" as the sun sets on a long day.
I wake with a start as I swallow a fly and almost topple off my reclined chair. In my frantic flapping about I also wake Herself, who is torn between giving me disapproving looks and laughing uncontrollably.
The sun goes in behind some rather thick clouds and it's threatening to rain. We spend the rest of the evening relaxing in the van and people watching. Despite it being 7pm and the sun has decided not to come out and play anymore today, the ginger family on the pitch opposite us are slapping on the factor 50!
We are also amused by a young family next door who have parents staying in a van opposite. Grandad has cooked tea on his Cadac outside his spanking new Unicorn. The Grand kids are obviously not allowed in the brand new van and food is carried across our paddock for them all to squeeze into the families much smaller and older Ranger.
Sunday 21 June
No choice today as we both have work tomorrow, we have to go home. I am up by 7am and faff about on my ipad while Herself catches some extended zzzz.
She stirs at 9am and we set about breaking camp. She sorts the inside of the van while I do all the outside stuff. The canopy comes down and is packed away dry, rubbish taken to the bins, bog and waste emptied, fridge vents closed, antenna down, electric unplugged and coiled up with just the legs to wind up ready for the off.
This is where my morning goes slightly awry. You see, I've been doing rather a lot of DIY of late in the garden, and the drill I usually keep in the van for the job has been pressed into other service, and due to our unplanned departure on Friday was in an uncharged state. This necessitated the rather unpleasant task of winding the steadies by hand.
I'd brought the drill with me and put the battery onto charge ready for departure day and stashed the drill in the front locker (*please read disclaimer below). Well, I opened the locker to get out the drill, but could i find it? My fault I suppose as when we are on site I rarely lock up the locker. I emptied it twice just to be sure, but no it wasn't there.
Herself insisted she hadn't touched it, so that left only one conclusion in my mind. It had been stolen! I look around our close accusingly, and top of my suspicion list is the shifty looking geezer opposite with a for sale sign on his van. I also take the opportunity to warn every passer by that there is a thief on site, and to watch their stuff.
I speak to the warden, but he's uncooperative in my request that he lock the site down and we get the rozzers in to search every outfit on site, until the culprit is nailed. Herself is losing the will to live and proceeds to wind up the legs by hand herself and hitch up the van.
Anyways, we are out of the gate and on the road by 9.30 am and pulling up at home by 9.45 am. I've moaned all the way home so Herself dives straight into the van to conduct a search, emerging just 2 minutes later waving some sort of orange hand tool in the air. I swear she knew where it was all along!
*I can now remember separating the drill from it's battery pack, putting the thing to charge and stashing the drill on a shelf in the wardrobe until it was ready to be re-coupled with it's power pack and stashed in the front locker. I never got as far as step 3!
And why someone would go to the trouble of stealing a drill without a battery is beyond me!
Until next time ..... da bo.
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