Some places just feel right.
Thursday 22 August
Just for a change Herself is working today, so I'm left to load up, and hitch up ready for the off. She finished a bit early, so has been over to see Creaky and Grumbles and we can set off at a reasonably early time. In the drizzle, we are pulling away from "Home is where you drag it" Towers at 4.30pm and are climbing the slip road at J47 and starting on that so familiar route.
The traffic isn't too bad, with us only slowing down a little as we skirt Clartville and then Brizzle. The weather has cleared by the time we're pulling into Taunton Dean for a comfort break at just before 7pm, getting out of Toyah's air conditioned comfort into the stench of stale piss. Lorry drivers are dirty barstewards!
Back on the road as the light starts to fade, and Toyah is making light work of the tow. We skirt Dartmoor without even noticing the climbs, and she shrugs off Bodmin Moor with ease. If it wasn't for me observing the signs and flipping over to manual for some of the descents, you wouldn't have known we were upping and downing.
It's dark by the time we stop to give the dogs a good old stretch at Cornwall Services near Roche before we continue motoring westwards along the A30, past Penzance and onto the Lands End peninsular where we plan on wild camping for the night.
Clearing Penzance we hit a wall of headlights as Lands End empties for the evening after "Magic in the Skies" and the going is slow for the last few miles.
We pull into out usual lay by off the A30 near Crows-an-Wra at 11pm, and settle down for a night's kip with a few camper vans for company.
Friday 23 August
We had a bit of a disturbed night. The van filled with moths and about a million other flying things after one of us left the door open with the lights on (it was really Herself's fault, but I'll shoulder the blame on this occasion) and 1hr or so is spent swatting anything that moved.
On top of that, one of the dogs had an upset stomach in the night, so when I stir at 8am I'm not at my best. A cup of tea and a plate of poached eggs sorts my mood out a little and we waste some time until we can travel the last 2 miles to our site.
We're pulling into Trevedra at 11.30am, and as our pitch is free we are welcomed early and told to set up when we want.
You forget how much more work it is to set up for 2 weeks as opposed to a few nights, but after a few hours we have enough set up for today, the rest can wait until tomorrow.
I've been pitching and levelling caravans since 1993, predominantly using a knacked old spirit level with planks of wood, then a half moon rocker and more lately a levelling ramp (which all did the job). However, when we changed to a twin axle van (our first) earlier this year I had to rethink my tactics as I didn't really fancy bouncing the van over 2 sets of ramps to get it right side to side.
I invested in a new combo of a "Pitch Perfect" and a "Lock n Level", and I must say that getting the van spot on level is a breeze. We use club sites a fair bit and so far my system has now raised any eyebrows, but this is the first commercial site we've been on with it and It attracted a bit on interest. People watched on as I manoeuvred the wheels back onto the air bags and looked aghast as I set the pump to go and watched for the two LEDs on the work surface to light up before knocking the pump off ..... simples. Some just asked, some took photos and one even videoed the whole process!
A quick spin back to Penzance is required for provisions before we can throw some salmon onto the Weber to be wolfed for our tea.
It's too early to settle down, and we mutually suggest (at the same time) going down to the cove for the evening., stopping first at the car park overlooking the beach to give the dogs a good run chasing a ball.
A walk along the front is challenging. You see, we have an extra dog this holiday. Roids and TF have flown off to Greece with TF's dad for his birthday and we are dog sitting Gwen. You can't hang around with two lively border collies on one lead!
With a bit of bullying we somehow manage to grab an outside table at The Old Success and enjoy a slurp while watching surfers do surfie stuff in the Atlantic.
Back at the van I'm on my chinstraps, so after a shower I'm in bed and snoring contentedly by 10pm.
Saturday 24 August
A bloody great night's kip last night. I was asleep by 10pm and there I stayed until woken up by my bladder at 6am (I suspect my superb kip hampered Herself's somewhat). Didn't close the back blind last night, as watching the forecast I didn't want to miss the sun rising just the other side of Lands End airport.
Find me a hotel bedroom that offers a view like this from your pillow!
On my return from the bog the dogs have taken up residence on my side of the bed, so I sit on the edge, scratching my gonads, as it gets lighter.
7.30am, and I've got all three on a lead and am heading through the site, ploughing a trench that is deep enough to plant spuds in, in a vein attempt to slow down.
The plan was to walk down to the beach, but on reaching the stone steps at the bottom of the site we are presented with a problem.
The herd is congregating by the steps, stopping us and quite a few others from continuing any further. Tali climbs to the top and one heifer takes exception to him being a bit too close to her youngun. Tali backed off, and I took that as my queue to turn around, instead doing a few laps of the dog walking field.
A late breakfast of cockles, lavabread, bacon and poached eggs is devoured before we complete the set up process by erecting our windbreak.
It looks really sturdy, but the winds down here can be brutal, so time will tell.
We pile into Toyah to head off out. We need a new throw to cover our bed in the daytime, dog chews obviously, and Herself needs some new clothes due to her currently shrinking at a remarkable pace.
So after B&M then Asda we treat ourselves to lunch in the beer garden at The Cornish Arms in Hayle.
With us suitably refreshed it is time to treat the dogs. We park up behind Salisbury's and cross the A30 then take the footbridge over the railway onto Long Rock beach at Mounts Bay.
It must be said that we had a great hour playing with the dogs in the sea, and by the time they'd chased a few handfuls of pebbles through the surf they were suitably knackered, if soaking wet and full of sand.
A fresh bottle of Plymouth Gin helps while away the evening as the site fills with the smell of BBQs being lit in every corner as the sun drops into The Atlantic just off shore.
Sunday 25 August
No sun rise this morning. The mist that enveloped the site last night was still lingering when we got up. After the first cuppa Herself joins me as we take a quick spin over to the car park overlooking Sennen, where we run the legs off the dogs early doors.
After 20 mins or so of running flat out, they're ready to go back for breakfast. They get some scrambled eggs, while a "Syn Free" effort is produced for Herself and I. hit the spot lovely it did.
Herself needs new Flip Flops due to an unfortunate incident yesterday. I didn't write about it last night as it was still a bit of a sore subject, but now it's sorted all is again good with the world. Yesterday afternoon, immediately after exiting the sea, it became apparent that Tali had drank quite a bit of sea water. Those of you that have dogs, and those dogs have had a slurp of the ocean will know what an unpleasant effect It can have on them. Herself's Flip Flops were ruined.
So anyway, a quick spin through Penzance confirms there are no suitable establishments open, so we hit the A30 and head back up country a bit to Perranporth. The car parks are rammed, but we manage to squeeze Toyah's bulk into a space suitable for a Smart car before hitting the main drag.
In no time at all Flip Flops are acquired in addition to a wet suit for Beastie and a few rump steaks for our tea.
We are now free to take a table at the Seiners Arms with a view of the rammed beach. The sign promises "proper" food and "ansum" rooms in addition to being dog friendly.
We're sat there people watching and clock a family making their way from the car park onto the beach. Herself is aghast, and I can't help but admire the bloke for his front. I am well aware that there may have been a perfectly good medical explanation for it, but my instinct tells me otherwise on this occasion. A bloke in his late 20s, in beach shorts, vest top and flip flops is sauntering towards the sand carrying just one of those cheap foam body boards. About 3 paced behind is his wife / significant other, with her work cut out keeping an eye on 3 excited kids, all under 6 years of age. In addition to this, while he strides ahead (ogling anything in a bikini) with not a care in the world, she is loaded up like a Sherpa. She is carrying the windbreaks, a cool bag and a beach bag. I bet once they find a spot he'll be telling her to open a beer for him too.
Just how dog friendly we didn't appreciate, until we're sat drinking in the view when the landlady comes out with a big bowl of freshly cooked and cut up beef burgers which she shared out among all the dogs on the terrace. What a lovely touch.
Back on site the cow's arse gets thrown on the Weber for tea, and is wolfed in no time at all before the recliners are set facing west as the sun drops into the Atlantic.
We had a bit of an incident with the neighbours. I've thought he was a bit of a funny git since we arrived, and this evening proved it. Before I regale the tale I'd initially like to point out that we were initially in the wrong.
Don't ask me how, but Gwawr slipped her tether and went on a bit of an explore. She loves kids, and when she was sniffing around outside their awning, the kids called her in. Mr Funny Git clocks her from inside his van, takes exception then starts screaming at her to get out. Herself hears the comotion and noticed that Gwawr is missing. Poking her head around the corner she see's Gwawr leaving their awning sprimkling a trail of nervous pee behind her, as Mr Funny Git continues shouting at her.
Meanwhile Funny Git juniors are now staring down at their phones, too afraid to fess up.
Herself is most apologetic and rushed round to ours to collect a few things before returning to theirs armed with a packet of Dettol wipes, some spray and kitchen roll. Now I'm no caravan snob, but Mr Funny Git's caravan and awning are not exactly in the flushes of youth, and their ground sheet looks like it's seen at least 5 seasons use on a swamp.
Herself gets down on her knackered knees to start cleaning up the few sprinkles that Gwawr left. The fuss Mr Funny Git is making you'd swear the Whaley Bridge dam had burst.
Mr Funny Git then stands over Herself as she's scrubbing, directing her to another area where he says that Gwawr peed, then another, then another, then another. Mrs Funny Git has done a runner out of embarrassment and Funny Git juniors are still giving Instagram their full attention.
By the time Mr Funny Git is finished, herself has cleaned their entire ground sheet, which now in perfect condition is probably worth more than his van and awning!
Herself disappeared into our van and went quiet. I thought she'd just been round there have an embarrassed chat, and it was while before she told the tale. When she did I popped out to the front locker, picked up a bottle of waterless wax and some rags, and started to give the front of Mr Funny Git's van the good news.
"What are you doing?"
"Well you had the Mrs cleaning the inside of your van and awning earlier, just thought I'd do the outside for you now. Would you like to supervise?"
Somehow I don't think we'll be sharing a BBQ this week.
Herself needs to escape and the dogs need a good stretch to tire them out before settling down for the night, so once again we take them over to Sennen to throw a ball, along with the rest of west Cornwall's dog owners.
Nos dda
Monday 26 August
No breakfast this morning, unless of course you count a cup of tea as breakfast. Herself has other plans, and by 8.30am we're joining the rest of the dog walking world on Long Rock beach walking along the shoreline.
Except that we were a little different in that we were both paddling with the dogs, and getting some strange looks off many other people.
It was very pleasant, with the sun struggling to break through the cloud cover. It was warm enough, but the water was a little chillier than it was a few days back.
Back on site it's too late for breakfast and too early for lunch. Herself throws a few Fibre 90 bars at me to tide me over until lunch time. Funny day today. We didn't really do anything. We stayed around the caravan, and I didn't even potter, content to sit and do nothing and dozing on and off to sleep having a really lazy day
Mr Funny Git comes back at about 4ish and Herself starts to get edgy, counting the dogs every 10 seconds. The conversation starts wandering back to our stay in Weston earlier on in the season and she starts to talk about the bargain we had when we picked up out Kampa Pro 5 Windbreak, Remarking that we should also have got a Kampa Pro 3 and the connecting door to go with it.
That sort of layout would have been far outside my comfort zone at the time, but I've now seen how solid they are, and I've been married to Herself for far too long to not know where this is going.
Her fingers are working overtime on her smart phone, and she's found an online deal offering 15% off at Campingworld.co.uk , but as with all on line shopping you have to wait on delivery, so we'd be looking at Wednesday or Thursday at the earliest. Some more swiping reveals a Kampa stockist in Newquay who's showing the Pro 3 in stock but no mention of the door, but they promise to price match any online deal.
I get on the blower and he confirms they have both in stock, but at £20 more than the offer. I quote the price match and he says he'll honour it and confirms he's open until 7pm.
He's keen, which is understandable as it is quite a big ticket item to have sitting in your stock room all winter. The deal is struck and we're motoring up the A30 by 4.30 in the light rain.
On returning to site my lazy day turns into quite a strenuous day. The Pro 5 gets taken down and re erected in a different place, the door insert put in and the Pro 3 put up to complete our secure doggy prison. The erection is completed under torchlight and apparently we missed a fantastic sunset this evening (picture courtesy of Trevedra Farm)
Apologies for the delay in publishing this one, as I've had to wait until Mr Funny Git leaves site.
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