Breaking out of Lockdown at The Favella

Usually by now in the year we've grabbed at least 6 trips away, but due to COVID-19 lockdown and the necessity to shield, our van's wheels have not turned since we pinched a cheeky weekend away in February.

Easter, May Day and Spring bank holidays all came and went as we found ourselves imprisoned within the walls of Home is Where You Drag It Towers.

Mind you, Toyah's not been behaving.  The amount of pennies that that to be thrown in her general direction to fund major surgery at the start of lockdown would have severely curtailed any travel plans we may have had anyway.

We've a booking for late August in Cornwall and made the decision just last week to travel, as long as COVID-19 allowed.  The caravan has been laid up since February, doors only opened to "borrow" stuff from lockers and cupboards.

275 miles is a long way to retrieve "borrowed" items, so a local shakedown trip was needed.  Somehow we managed to book a pitch at The Favella inside Pembrey Country Park which would allow Herself to continue her shielding (albeit on a pitch rather than at home) whilst at the same time being able to check everything still worked after the lay up and make a list of stuff we "borrowed" that needs to be replaced / put back.

I'd pulled the van out of her cwtch during my lunch break on Tuesday - there are distinct advantages to this working from home caper - giving her the good news with some snow foam followed by a hand wash.  She'd not been washed after our February trip and had 4 months worth of winter algae and wood burner soot on her.  But never the less was sparkly clean once more before my scheduled 2pm meeting.

Friday 31 July

Herself has organised herself a half day finish, I have no such luxury so have a 2hr (extended lunch break) slot to get the van out, hitched up, tow to Pembrey, get her set up on the pitch and sort my wifi out for a 2pm meeting.

We pull up at the gates of The Favella and are directed to pitch M16.  Great we think, that's just 2 pitches away from where Grumbles has his van on a seasonal, and where Ronnie and Co will be stopping this weekend.

We pull into the close and me heart sinks.  The pitch has been destroyed by the previous occupant.  Aside from a few weeds there is very little vegetation on it at all. It looks like they've had artificial grass down so the pitch is bare where their caravan was, bare where their awning was and bloody nearly bare where the joking grass was!  It is a complete mess.

I look at Heir Incharge, who can see my face and has retreated to the safety of her perspex enclosed buggy.  I look around enviously at all the other vacant pitches and plead to her sympathetic side.

"Could we go onto another one that's free this weekend?"

"No."

"Why not? We're going to be carrying mud into the van every time we get in and out."

She shrugged.

"Aw come on mun, look at the state of it."

"Are you putting an awning up?"

"Yes."

"Well it's awnings that destroy pitches."

It was about this time that I realised she didn't have a sympathetic side, and I watched in dis belief as she pressed the go pedal and dough nutted out of our close and back to the safety of the barrier.

I'm crestfallen.  We're paying £28 pn here for just Herself and I, and there is  no toilet block open.  The very least they could do is give us some grass to pitch on!

We've been cooped up for months so vow not to let it spoil our weekend, but will take it up with the Council next week.

We set up pretty quickly and sit waiting the arrival of Ronnie, MBW and Beastie.

When they arrive we waste not time in occupying Beastie while they make up the beds and stuff.  We dine in style - burgers and hotdogs while blowing the froth off a few ones till late on in their awning.

Saturday 1 August

Up early this morning as we've got a lot planned.  MBW is off back to Turksville for a hair appointment, while Ronnie and I have to do some work to the van.  He's towing it to the tip of Cornwall in 2 weeks time so first on the list is a set of new tyres for it.

We jack it up, take the wheels off and throw them in Toyah's boot.  I set off back towards Turksville myself, and am back within the hour with wheels back on, van dropped and steadies wound back down.

Bacon butties are had in the sun while slurping on a few gallons of tea.

Next job is to remove all the stickers left on the van by the previous owner, which was a job in itself that took 2 hours - I have nothing left of my thumb nail that was used as an impromptu scraper.  Ronnie then followed me round with his polisher.

By the time Mr Flat Cap has arrived to sort out the towing electrics the van is gleaming.

We have chicken off the BBQ with rice before going out for some late evening fun.  The dogs are clipped on and we set off out for a walk.  Beastie wants to explore her pace though, so I volunteer to stay  back with her as the others head off on a circuit of the grass lands,

We got into trouble though.  We always do when left on our own.  Beastie wanted to see Thomas the Tank Engine. And when I'm around what Beastie wants, Beastie gets.

There was a small matter of a fence to negotiate, but it wasn't high enough to put Dats off.  We then set off over the Pitch and Putt in hot pursuit of the others.

Back towards the site and we're just in time to catch Y Orsaf for a drink before they closed.  We settle down for a slurp while Beastie played in the sand and wore herself out ready for bed.

Back at the van it's time to empty the bogs and top up the flush tanks.  I set about doing ours and Ronnie his.

Now regular readers will remember the frequent mishaps I've had from being too lazy to turn off the tap before trying to reconnect the hose to the aquaroll after filling the flush.

So, we're sat in the awning while Ronnie finishes off, when we hear the sound of water spraying and yelps oh "Ah, FFS, Ah!"

Ronnie comes around the corner, dripping wet.  It's my turn now after years of abuse and I just sit there with a smug grin on my chops while shaking my head!

Late one tonight as the froth gets blown off many a cool one.

Sunday 2 August

We wake to blue skies and sight that only caravanners can appreciate

I'm stretching outside wiping the sleep from my eyes and Beastie is bounding over to our pitch.  A quick cwtch for Dats and she's inside jumping on Mims in bed.

We breakfast alfresco again on  bacon butties and a few mugs of "Builders" before setting about doing not much at all.

We love caravanning all year round, but it's sop much nicer an experience in hot and sunny weather.

Noon sees Roids and TF rock up.  We've been dog sitting last night as they were off to a family BBQ party, and to be perfectly honest neither of them are looking too good.

Herself throws together a ham salad for lunch before they all set off for a walk down to the beach.  We have to stay back though, as Tali our eldest dog is not too great.  His one hip is very stiff and he can only put 3 legs to the ground (just).  We're going to have to have "THE" conversation very soon.

Herself and I take a stroll with Tali up as far as Yr Orsef again and I join the queue to get a few drinks in.  By the time I'm served the rest are on their way back from the beach and join us, at the same time putting in an order for some food to take back to the van.  Beastie played in the sand once more.

Roids and TF make their excuses and head off home for a chicken dinner (I'm guessing a sleep will preclude the dinner bit)

It was over dinner that a decision was made - well, I'd already made it, I just had to run it past Herself and talk her round.  We're both working from home, but both still "in work" in the morning, so rather that stay the night and be packing up at 7am in the morning, we make the decision to break camp and head home this evening.

7.30 pm sees us pulling out of the Favella (which in fairness is a lot better and quieter than it was last year) with the mover doing its magic at home by 8pm.