What has not helped either is that many people have taken their Easter break early this year, and certainly since the schools broke up last week my timeline has been full of "Here we are, all set up" posts.
Thursday 18 April
I'm wide awake by 5.30 am and staring at the digits clicking over on Alexa. 6.30 am sees me losing patience and getting up to start doing stuff.
Toyah's tyres get some air and I pop her down to see PC so that her oil can be topped up. I'm itching to get the van out though, but it's blocked in. The captain usually works away Mon to Fri, but for some reason he came home last night and his motor is in the way and his bedroom curtains remain firmly shut.
By 9am I'm stood there staring up and coughing, but being ex army he can sleep through anything. 9.20 am sees me clunking our Nemesis wheel locks together, which does the trick, and we're hitched up and away by 10.15am.
A brief detour to sort some paperwork with the Omar Sherrife is required before we battle through the bank holiday getaway. Going is slow, and we grind to a halt as we skirt Clartville. No accident though, just rubber neckers watching a HGV being recovered.
The M5 is bedlam from Bristol as the Armada of caravans and Piccassos with roof boxes crawls as far as Clevedon due to a caravan incident. It takes us a full 3 hours to reach Taunton Dean where we battle with HGVs for space to throw lunch down out necks supplied by the golden arches.
Toyah gets a pat on the dash as we reach the crest of the hill on the A380 by Exeter Racecourse, and we're pulling through the gate of Stover Caravan Club site at 3pm.
A steady and methodical set up ensured there were no incidents (sorry) and by 4pm we announce to Facebookville that "We is arrived".
We have no provisions, so a trip into Newton Abbot is required before we return to site and take the dogs over to the Blue Bell populated dog walk to let off some steam.
The sun is nice and warm so chairs are set up to enjoy a beer with the sun on my chops before cooking tea.
Now, I don't know if it was a little too much sun on my solar panel, or if I was a little too enthusiastic in my guzzling of Polish beer, or if it's just a case that this van has a little too much tech for a technophobe like me ......... but ....... I got myself in a right state.
Herself is on the home straight in the cooking of tea department and I switch on the water furnace so we can wash up after. 15 seconds later and a beeping sounds with the control panel lit up like a Xmas tree flashing error code W45H at me. WTF is error code W45H?
I try the tried and tested IT solution for everything (turn off and turn back on again) but to no avail. Google comes to my rescue at the same time tat Herself has abandoned the cooker and is reading the instruction manual. Both present a picture of much doom and much gloom. W45H means there is no power getting to the system. While the manual suggests speaking to your dealer (at 6.45pm on a Thursday evening?) Google's finest suggest a system reset - didn't work - a tripped switch - no none tripped - overheated furnace requiring pressing the reset button somewhere within it's depths - shit myself and move onto the next solution - switch to gas - bugger that, gas is expensive.
It is while I'm on my knees staring in hope at the furnace that a light bulb sparked into life inside my bonse. I press a little orange switch, it lights up, the control unit stops flashing and beeping, and the furnace starts to do it's stuff.
Note to self - ensure that ALL switches are on next time before panicking and raising Herself's levels of stress.
We also had an issue with the fridge (there was no issue really, but I'd convinced myself that there was) which was not helped by our instruction manual not including the instructions for our actual fridge.
In between all of this Herself had somehow retained her composure and not throttled me, and I'm presented with a plate of sirloin with mushrooms, new potatoes and onion rings, that went down rather well with a few more beers.
We're both knackered so not a late one tonight. Nos dda.
Friday 19 April
The early night yesterday ensures that I'm wide awake and feeling refreshed by 6.30am. Always sleep better in the van for some reason.
Beastie wasn't feeling too well when we saw her on Wednesday, following on from her jabs, so I'm happy to open a message from Ronnie telling us that she's slept off the after effects and is walking round the house in her new wellies!
I'm a shower and three mugs of tea into my morning by the time Herself peels herself off the sheets and makes my breakfast. The sosig butty is eaten outside and washed down with a pint of iced OJ.
I shouldn't have found it amusing, but I did. We've just finished our breakfast and a pitch just down the way is about to start theirs when this pulled in and proceeded to empty the site cess pits.
You could see the regret of their pitch choice on their faces from 70 yards! Some time is spent chilling around the van. I play with the tech in an attempt to familiarise myself, and clock the outside temperature. Most sensible dogs on site are laid in the shade, but not our Tali ....
We pop into Highbridge next door on the hunt for new recliners. We resisted but Herself was intent on spending some money so we get stiffed £6 for a miniature dustpan and brush.
Next we head up onto Dartmoor. The roads are busy, and it appears the rest of the west country is also up here with us. We find a quiet spot and stop to play with the dogs.
Approaching Widdecombe in the Moor we come to a T junction. Herself frantically tries to fire up the camera on her phone, but fails miserably.
This fine lump of Ribeye has been strolling down the white lines with not a car in the world. A long queue of cars behind, all too shits to try and pass. Does it look bothered?
We swing into the packed car park of the Two Bridges Hotel and cheekily ask someone if we can share their table to enjoy a drink in the gardens.
It was a very pleasant way to spend an hour, watching families play riverside, young couples canoodling and old people just arrived scowling at people already occupying tables that they are entitled to!
Back on site after an hour or so soaking up some rays Herself decides it is a little too hot for the dogs and that we need to take them over the dog walk so they can cool off in the stream. I suggest that after that we can cross the road to the Golf Club and have a good guzzle on their patio.
It didn't go well. Tali happily jumped straight in and was feeling the benefit of the cooling stream while Gwawr ran up and down the bank barking at him and getting hotter and hotter. You need to understand that Gwawr is Herself's precious one, and my grabbing her by the collar and throwing her into a deep pool didn't go down that well. Especially when Gwawr panicked swimming straight to the nearest bank that was too high and too steep to get out!
Herself starts to panic and shout at me, and I am left in no doubt that I must scramble down the stingy nettle bank, grasping the flimsiest twigs for support, reach over for her collar and haul the dripping wet mutt out of the stream. We're not talking.
We run the gauntlet crossing the A382 to the Gold Club - remember Frogger or Horace Goes Skiing on the ZX Spectrum? - and walk up towards the patio. Herself breaks radio silence to declare that it's too busy. My pointing out an empty table is to no avail. Her mind is made up (I'm sure she knows I like draft beer and was looking forward to a good slurp - and this is payback for nearly drowning her precious one) and we turn round to return to the van. Radio silence is resumed.
Tea was a joint effort. Herself prepped the fish, boiled the new spuds, prepared the salad, got the table and chairs out, and then got me a beer to drink while I sat in front of the BBQ while the fish cooked!
The meal was superb and tasted all the better for being eaten alfresco.
Saturday 20 April
A great night's sleep last night. A slow start to the day though with the first cuppa being taken in bed catching up on a bit of news (we are really liking the layout of this new van).
We need new sacrificial mats as ours have done their job and need throwing. Herself also needs nail varnish as some fool threw all hers out when de-cluttering on caravan swap overs. I am dispatched over to Trago as Herself couldn't possibly go out without a fresh coat (having removed the previous covering before checking she had nail varnish with her) while she got breakfast on the go.
Before, what I though was not too long, I'm getting the "Where are you? Are you lost?" phone call. I'm bloody useless in shops on my own and really shouldn't go into then unaccompanied. It took a video conference for Herself to help me locate suitable goods, people were staring mun!
Breakfast is wolfed, but it is gone 1pm by the time we are in Toyah heading out for what's left of the day.
We take the Devon Expressway westwards towards Plymouth and Devonport to catch a ferry over to Cornwall. This is a first for us, we've been going to Cornwall for over 26 years, north, south, central and west, but we've never caught a ferry to get there before.
There was a bit of an incident. We rocked up and rolled in behind the last car in a half empty lane 5. Almost instantly I think we are in Stalag 17. The yellow vest in the sentry tower is shouting at us over the tannoy. Such is the tone of his voice I'm half expecting to come under hostile fire at any moment.
Then the people in lanes 6, 7 , 8 & 9 turn their attention to us, horns are honked, people are shouting and pointing. I'm sure one or two are reaching into the glove box for a Luger p08.
One particularly angry bloke gets out and is striding purposefully towards us. I couldn't see if he was armed or not!
Yellow vest is still shouting over the tannoy at us "Achtung, Achtung. Sie sind in der falschen spur!". Meanwhile Mr Angry is closing in. Toyah's doors are locked, she is thrown into reverse and I'm preparing to execute a manoeuvre to avoid contact that Andy McNab would be proud of.
New arrivals are starting to line up in lane 1, and they are not getting hosed down, so we roll up behind them. Yellow vest stops shouting at us and Mr Angry re holsters his Luger as the lights in lane 5 go green.
We now know there is some sort of queueing system, but are none the wiser as we were supposed to know how it worked.
For some reason none came round to collect the toll for the ferry, and we crossed into Kernow FOC, driving off the ramps into Torpoint.
Torpoint appears to be a bit of a shit hole suburb of the city over the Tamar. We don't stop and press on a few miles, discovering a fantastic coastal road quite by accident.
The B3247 and then the Military Road from Portwrinkle and through Freathy to Rame Head offers spectacular coastal scenery.
Far too many people about though, and we decide to head back over the Tamar. cautiously we approach the lanes and pull up behind a queue. We must have got it right though as we weren't getting hosed down by MG42s - though a young couple in a mini were not quite as fortunate as they rolled up in lane 6. Yellow vest was on it though, and the high speed reverse under fire was quite impressive.
Back on site, a quick (but tasty) tea of tandoori salmon and fried rice is thrown together and wolfed down before we take the dogs over to the adjacent country park for a run round in the cool under the canopy.
Thatchers Gold provides good company to watch the sun set and reflect on the day's events.
Sunday 21 April
We both slept in this morning. I'd got up at 6am to answer the call of nature and turned the heating on to take off the chill, got back into bed and back into the land of nod.
We only wake up because the sun is up and the inside temp is stifling. Roof vents are thrown open and a flame lit under the kettle, and cuppas are taken under the canopy. It is decided that we are to have a day of doing nothing, that's right, bugger all is planned other that a stroll in the adjacent country park.
I throw some sausages in the pan to cook slowly while I scrape a few days growth off my chops and have a shower.
Stepping down out of the van laden with plates and glasses I see Herself is on the blower, and by her expression I can tell that all is not well with the world.
"My mother (Creaky) has been taken into hospital last night!"
OK ......... canopy down ........... pack up ............ hitch up ......... and head for home.
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