It's been a while, Easter to be precise, since we've had the van out. This has mainly been down to Grumbles' poor health (seemingly having one issue after another) and Herself's understandable reluctance to leave him. We've had 3 weeks away with him tagging along, but that was in Statics, which just isn't the same.
Anyway, he says touching every piece of wood within reach, Grumbles seems to be on an even keel for now, so Herself tentatively suggested maybe having a few nights away. The first obstacle was navigating both our rammed work diaries before we could squeeze in 3 days off together.
I'd done the research and got a list of 8 possibles and 2 probables, all within staggering distance from a pub and no more that 130 miles from home.
Wednesday 19 November
I'd been in the East Midlands since Sunday in a Conference, so differently for us Herself was left to get all the stuff ready to go today. On my return home yesterday piles of clothes and bags of shopping litter the house.
Things have changed though since we last dragged the van out way back at Easter. We've had some work done at home which required the caravan to go in storage. Originally I'd only signed a 3 month contract, but I'm getting no younger and am no longer able to wheel my balls round in a wheel barrow! Edging the van out onto the road to take it to storage I was subjected to torrents of abuse, and I'm ashamed to say that I was chasing one driver with the mover engaging wrench.
A 12 month contract was signed and the van now resides in a CASOA Platinum storage yard a few miles from home.
We're loaded up, hitched up and making our way out of the double gates at 11.30am, and for the first time in 7 months we're shouting Wagons Roll.
Traffic was good as we joined the M4 at J48 and it stayed that way all the way to J17 where we exit onto a world of roundabouts until we take a right at the Three Magpies in Melksham and in through the gates on the Camping and Caravanning Club site at Devizes.
Quite a contrast to the Motorhome and Caravan Club though where you're treated like adults, check in and off you go. The wardens were pleasant enough but the welcome was strained. I was permitted to use the unisex disabled WC adjacent to reception only if I just wanted a pee!
Herself was given chapter and verse about the rules before we're escorted on foot onto the site to choose a pitch. We then walk back to reception, the barrier is lifted before the male warden leads us to our pitch on his bike, even taking wide turns as if he was towing an 8m rig like me.
He leaves us to set up after warnings not to let any rubber come into contact with any grass.
We decide it's not worth putting the canopy up as there is no rain forecast and it'll be way to cold to site out there, so we're set up in no time.
I have to add here that I reversed the rig onto the pitch, and it's in place without the need to use the mover - bang on. I really should have had Herself to record the maneuver to be posted all over the book and X to give the impression that I'm the only person ever to reverse a caravan!!
Heating gets turned on and we adjourn to the Three Magpies next door for a drink next to their log burner and a bite to eat.
Food was nice and it would have been easy to stop in front of the fire for a messy evening, but to be honest we've spent so little time in the caravan in 2025 we just wanted to return and snuggle down for the evening. So we did!
Thursday 20 November
It dropped to minus 4 overnight, but with the heating having been run and an electric blanket switched on under the duvet to warm the bed I was toasty warm overnight. Herself claimed she'd been freezing!
She got up to light a flame under the kettle, but I'm soon being shaken. No water!
I go out to investigate. The Aquaroll is inside a jacket and is not frozen, however the pistol pick up feels rather stiff. That gets pulled off and thrown in the shower to thaw.
We always carry a 5 litre container with us filled with water for the dogs, and it was freshly filled yesterday morning before leaving. That is retrieved and the no morning cuppa disaster is reverted.
Should I put a thumb nail with horrified faces and a caption that would have the UN on standby just to draw attention to myself or not?
Herself sorts out breakfast, just porridge this morning, but with the solid ground outside it was very welcome and satisfying. Some finger swiping tells me it's Market Day in Devizes. I loves a market I do. We scrub up and get out parking up at the Wharf Car Park where I'm delighted to note that with "OUR" new Blue Badge we can park up for 3 hours free.
Herself is double layered and dosed up with enough pain killers to put a horse to sleep as we set off to find the market.
What a great little market it was, we procured some Indian goodies from an Indian bloke's stall and some cockles from a Fishmonger before setting off for a mooch around Devizes.
What a nice little town, with a sizable array of independent shops mixed in with the usual corporate dross. Why would anyone buy from Greggs with so many artisan bakers dotted about?
The area is obviously doing OK, with many well heeled people wandering about. Don't get me wrong, there were also a few that have fallen on hard times, sat shivering with just a piece of cardboard between them and the ice cold pavement. If you choose not to give that's your decision, but quite why some of the well heeled folk felt the need to stop to bend down and say to them "Why don't you just move on!" is beyond me.
Despite being layered up and dosed up Herself's knees are screaming at her. It's not 11.30am yet, but I suggest finding a pub for a sit down and a warm. Herself says "Isn't it a bit early?" as we pass the side window of The Three Crowns, where perched at a table are three gents supping on pints of Wadsworth's finest. "Obviously not" she quips as we dive into the welcoming warmth of the extremely dog friendly establishment.
Herself has a plan for this afternoon, but to facilitate that we need to reduce the step count here and she needs to overdose on pain killers once more. We return to site and stop long enough to have a pee before setting off along the canal path. Herself had been talking to the warden and been told there was a really nice pub just over a mile away. I knew this but hadn't said due to Herself's knees.
Anyway, if the worst came to the worst the canal is crossed by 3 or 4 roads between site and pub and I could have doubled back to get the car.
The horse pain killers did the job though and we ambled along as military choppers circled overhead, tied up boats filled the air with wood smoke and holiday boats did battle with the locks.
A pleasant stroll in the sunshine it was, but lets just say the Barge Inn was a very welcome sight.
We dive inside the very welcoming canal side establishment, giving dirty looks to the couple occupying the only table next to the roaring open fire, and taking a seat further inside. This place isn't just Dog Friendly, it positively welcomes them with a water station provided with dozens of bowls and jars full of free treats for them.
Herself works her way through a bottle of Sauvignon flavoured anesthetic while I partake in some of Henry Westons' finest.
We had a wonderful lunch and afternoon, but in the 2 and a bit hours we were sat there I may have accidentally consumed 6 pints of Henry's apple juice. I was thirsty Ok!
Now those of you familiar with zoider will know that this particular zoider isn't really designed for gulping, you can do as it's so easy to pour down your neck, but with an ABV of 7.3% has the capability to do some damage.
It did, and with day light fading quickly the walk back along the canal path requires a revised Risk Assessment to be carried out, as I knew what would happen as soon as I got out into the crisp fresh air.
It hit me like a sledgehammer, but we made it back, even if I needed 3 or 4 pee stops on the way. Herself breathes a sign of relief as I climb into the van and perch on one of the front benches, where the warm air does its work and I fall asleep on my chinstraps.
I wake up briefly to attack the Indian snacks we'd procured earlier for this very purpose before going to bed where I stayed for the rest of the night.
Friday 21 November
Great night's kip last night and we het up just after 7am. I'd taken the precaution of bringing the Truma pistol feeder inside last night, so with some hot water from the dishwash area pored over the inlet and pistol reconnected we have water this morning.
I head over for a shower and upon my return I'm delighted that Herself has got a cooked breakfast on the go.
When Herself does a cooked breakfast she does a cooked breakfast!
After clearing up we have a lazy morning. Herself takes herself back to bed for a lie down and I take the opportunity to get lost in a Chris Ryan book into world of people being tortured by MI5.
The one place I've wanted to visit while here is Marlborough, and I've wanted to go there since Grumbles visited a few years back with U3A, why I can't explain, but I did. We're all piled in Trude and enjoy the sunshine on our chops as we traverse the poker straight roads that seem to be prevalent in this part of the world.
We hit a wall of tail lights approaching the town centre as the road winds it's way around Marborough College, with posh pupils darting around thinking they're better than others because their parents are coughing £61k a year for them to get an education.
Quite why they think that is questionable seeing that the college is currently embroiled in controversy after having sacked a male teacher for telling an inappropriate joke, and that teacher deciding he didn't want to live anymore!
We roll onto High St and it's chaos central, drivers fighting for parking spaces while the through traffic lean on their horns impatiently. We manage to find a space being vacated and I ignore the horns behind me sitting there with my indicator blinking.
We set off for a mooch, but to be frank, we're not really feeling this place. It has no charm and the people are rude. We do one circuit before taking a table outside the Castle and Ball for a drink and a spot of people watching. Yes, outside mind, in November!
Even the Barman was rude as if it was too much trouble to pour a cider and beer! It also appears that paying parking fees is considered optional to locals as we watched at least 3 cars pull up with owners darting off without using the pay and display!
We couldn't wait to get out of the place. We'd seen a rather interesting tump on the way here so pulled off the A4 on the way back to investigate. Turns out that Sibury Hill is the largest prehistoric man made mound in Europe and is one of many monuments around Avebury dating back to the Bronze Age, and is an English Heritage site.
What was funny though was a minibus full of students from The Royal Agricultural University had been dragged here on a field trip. They couldn't have been less interested in their lecturers ramblings if they tried, and he was absolutely crestfallen when they all turned round to face us, more interested in Gwawr and Gwen than the tump they were here to see!
One more stop on the way back. I'd wanted to see the famous Caen Hill Locks just outside Devizes.
Following the signs we end up in the Public Parking area at the top. It costs £4 to park here and under Herself's instruction I reluctantly trudge over to the Turpin machine and I'm in the middle of being robbed when I spot a ticket stuffed behind the perspex. I pull it out and note it's still valid until midnight. Cancel, cancel, cancel before making my way back smiling from ear to ear!
We clip the dogs on and head off for an explore. The flight of 29 locks rises 237ft over 2 miles and is some feat of engineering.
I understand it takes best part of a day to traverse the locks in a boat, it didn't take us that long to do the circular walk and we're off back to site to chill for a bit after first putting the ticket back in the machine for someone else to use.
We've a table booked at the Three Magpies for 6pm, but by 4.30pm breakfast is a distant memory, so we freshen up and head on over. Kitchen doesn't open until 5.30pm, but at least we'll be there when it does.
The evening got messy and by the time we're heading back the Thatchers had done it's job, and I was once again feeling no pain whatsoever.
Saturday 22 November
We wake to the sound of rain on the roof, Herself informs me it's been raining most of the night. The temperature has also risen, so we have running water this morning for the first time this week.
I hatch a plan over breakfast that ensures we'll be able to spend some time in the car as well as taking in some culture.
Loaded up and I point Trude's nose towards the historic medieval village of Lacock. The village is renown for being a popular filming location for both Downtown Abbey and Harry Potter, I've never watched the former and so many places now claim to have a connection with the latter, it's no big deal any more. I've just read the Pride and Prejudice was also filmed here, but I've not watched that either.
The only thing I can think of is it's the term that the French rugby team will be using when referring to young Henry Pollock in this years Six Nations.
We park up for free behind the Red Lion and decide to give The Abbey a miss, instead choosing to wander the streets to take a look at the well preserved medieval and 18th Century buildings.
First stop is the Tythe Barn on East Street, built in the 14th Century it's fairing well, with the help of the National Trust who own most of the village, and is probably in better nick now that a new build Persimmon Homes effort.
I'm impressed with the detail of the roof while Herself taps her feet impatient to move on. A little further on there's an artisan and gift fair going on in the village hall, also promising a book signing today. Sat on the first table is none other that children's author Sue Tweedy - no I've never heard of her either - and Herself gets the plastic out to have 3 titles signed by her to take back for Beastie and Bwmps.
Carrying on we turn right onto Church Street where sitting at the end is The Potters House , a property owned by National Trust which you can rent out for just £440 per night in the depths of December.
Round the corner we go onto High St and stop briefly to have a look in the National Trust shop. Herself didn't like the Hares as they had no expression, so we head over the road to The Red Lion.
Heading inside we were halted by "Front of House"
"Have you booked?"
"Er, no."
"Then I'm afraid we're full. You can sit outside if you want."
"Have you seen the weather out there?"
"You could try The George."
"Thanks for your help."
Not wanting to traipse back up the road we decided to call it a day, except when we rounded the corner Herself spotted the halogen heaters under the canopy. She sits down and I go into get some drinks. I spot the board adjacent to the bar offering "Soup of the Day" and decide to give it a go.
"Pint of Thatchers, Pint of Westons, and 2 soup of the day please."
"Do you have a table number?"
"No, but we're sat outside, and we're the only ones out there."
"I'll need a table number to be able to book the order."
"Can't you guess?"
"No, you'll need to go back outside to get it."
"Never mind, just the ciders then."
I go back out, joining Herself under the glow of the halogens and explain the charade of inside. She persuades me to have soup and to go back in. She moves our bags to one side and we note that our table does not benefit from having a number. Now the evil side of me actually wants go back inside.
"A pint of Westons, bag of Pork Scratchings (for the dogs) and ONE SOUP please."
"Yes of course."
She's side stepped me now.
"Our table DOES NOT HAVE A NUMBER."
"That's Ok, are you sat in the middle somewhere?"
"Yes under the heaters."
"Someone will bring the soup out soon!"
I left the bar clicking and twitching!
The soup came, and I wish it hadn't. Luke warm and so bland and under seasoned I contemplated pouring the content of the salt and pepper grinders directly into it.
It started hammering down proper while sat under the canopy and Trude's wipers were flat out all the way to our next destination, through the amusingly named villages of Tiddleywink and Kents Bottom. Dropping down into Castle Combe the rain is biblical so we saw it through Trude's windows. I didn't even suggest stopping to get out.
Wiltshire has a series of White Horses carved into hillsides, and we've seen probably the most famous and accessible one at Westbury. Google tells us the most recent one is close to Devizes, dating just to 1999 and was carved into the hillside to celebrate the Millennium. We followed the roads to Roundway, but despite the horse measuring 45m x 45m and supposed to be carved into the chalk hillside overlooking the village we failed to find it, or the hill it was supposed to be carved into.
We call it a day and return back to the caravan. Herself does some magic and I'm able to watch Wales take on the mighty All Blacks on her laptop. As feared we were beaten well, but at least we showed signs of promise scoring 4 well taken tries.
Night in tonight, and we have minted lamb burgers procured from a butcher in Devizes washed down with a few bottles of Henry Westons.
Bit of a damp squid today, especially after the glorious few days prior, but the van does look nice and cosy on my way back from the block.
Sunday 23 November
Both up early this morning and with very little to do in the way of breaking camp, we're hitched up and rolling out by 8.45am.
The two inconsiderate gits pitched on the tight corner have parked passively aggressively since they got here, and it took some care to get the rig round the corner without taking out the post in place to stop outfits cutting the corner and onto the grass.
The tow home was uneventful, and once clear of the hundreds on roundabouts and onto the M4 the cruise control was set to 60 and I let Trude do the work.
I'm really starting to like having the van in storage. There was no sending a text to the Captain asking for his car to me moved, and there was no leaning on horns or abuse from very impatient drivers. We're in through the double lock gates, the van is on it's spot and unloaded into Trude all within 30 mins.
A great few nights away, and I'm grateful to Herself for being brave enough to leave Grumbles for a few nights for us to be able to have some us time. We liked Wiltshire, we liked Wiltshire a lot, but the highlight for us was the walk along the canal on Thursday and an afternoon growing old disgracefully in The Barge Inn.
Until next time
