Criss-crossing the Peaks in the Brecon Beacons National Park

One month on and both Herself and I are continuing the task of burning leave accumulated in work.  Creaky is still with us, albeit extremely poorly (by Jove she's got some strength that woman!).

And with the Delta variant starting to announce it's arrival and threats of yet another lockdown we're keen to get some time away, so another site is booked with in dashing distance of home.

Friday 11 June

Herself had mostly packed the van yesterday, so while she worked yesterday it was for me to load up the canopy and coolbox full of booze ready for the off.

Herself logs off at midday, with the van already inched out and clamped to the back of Toyah, and at 1pm it's "Wagons Roll".

The site for the week is only 26 miles from home, but unusually for us instead of hugging the coastline we've headed up into the mountains of South Wales for a change.  The tow was uneventful, which is how it should be, and in a little over 3/4 hour we're threading our way though the boulders as we snake up into the Brecon Beacons Camping & Caravanning Park which is immediately adjacent to The National Showcaves Centre for Wales at Dan yr Ogof in the upper reaches on the glacial Swansea Valley.

Herself's eyes are peeled as we crawl around the site and as we round a corner her arm flips over and winds me as she shouts stop!  She jumps out and darts down the track, before turning round and waving her arms around in a manner that I take as meaning "You have to turn around and reverse our 13m long rig down this snaking track between the trees and onto THAT pitch."

I'm rather proud to say that I managed it, just having to use the mover for final final positioning.

I'd like to say that setting up was a doddle.  But I can't.  It had been threatening to rain all the way up here, and sods law says that as soon as we got out of the car it started.  First job is to get the van set up.  All the pitches here are fully serviced, so I've connected the hose up for the water, I turn it on and the pattern the water spray made as it escaped the thread connector wouldn't have looked out of place at the Fountains of Bellagio in Vegas!

I got wet! And now it's proper raining. You know? That getting wet rain!

We plough on.

Out Isabella kit fetish has blossomed this spring and even more 2nd hand kit has been procured.  Now we are the proud owners of a full awning, a porch awning, an annex and a sun canopy, the latter of which has come with us this week.

Erecting it was easy as Isabella use the same pole system for all their contraptions, and I was already familiar with that having put up our porch and full awnings already this year.  Pegging out however was a different matter.  Were in the mountains here, near a cave complex, which means you're never far from rock.

I had a feeling pegging out would be interesting, and on the second swing of the mallet I was able to gauge exactly how interesting.  Lurking just 2 inches below the pristine gravel surface is bedrock.  The air was blue as I crawled around sweating underneath my waterproof coat, a river of rain and sweat cascading down my chops into my eyes as my swinging lump hammer either bounced off yet another bending rock peg or smashed into my left hand knuckles.

It was some time later that we were able to announce to Facebookville that "We is Arrived ! Albeit rather moist.

I'll have to admit though, Herself has found us a cracking little spot here, we're in our own little clearing not overlooked by anyone immediately adjacent to Nant Haffes.

We're now gagging for a beer.

"Where's the beer babe?  You did load it up didn't you?"

"Of course I did, it's over there."

"I can't see it, are you sure?"

"Well yes, I can see it from here, it's in that blue box thing making a whirring sound."

*Smug grin turned on

"Did you bring the crate that was next to it in the shed this morning?"

*Smug grin starts to slip.

Many swear words were uttered ..... all the way back to Asda in Ystalyfera where additional supplies were procured!

Back on site the Fire Mountain gets fired up to cremate some burgers for an easy meal.  It's stopped raining now, but all is damp and the midges are coming out to play.

Later on the dogs get clipped on and we take a stroll back down through the site to take a look at some of the animals that roam free nearer the Dinosaur Park and Showcaves.

Not a late one tonight, but as I'm sat on the bed taking my hearing aids out, I realise that sometimes being deaf has its advantages.  The river is immediately adjacent to our bedroom window, and I'm thankful that on taking my hearing aids out I won't be able to hear Nant Haffes running past encouraging me to want to pee every 15 mins!

Saturday 12 June

Much better weather today as we breakfast on mugs of steaming tea and bacon butties on the chairs set up at the back of the van.

I venture down the slope into the river, and in hindsight I realise that maybe flip flops were not the wisest choice of footwear.  The dogs are keeping their distance, as at least then if (when) I fall they can't be blamed.

Now, as much as I like our water feature at the tap, it's becoming a little tiresome turning the hose on and off to top up the Aquaroll, that and I get a soaking from the spray every time.  I send out an SOS to one of my imaginary friends on Twitter who lives up this way.  He comes up trumps, and in 30 mins I'm heading back to site clutching a roll of PTFE tape from J A Daly plumbers merchants and raring to go.

I've not yet fessed up to Herself, but on starting the job of sealing the thread with tape I noticed that in my rush setting up yesterday I'd crossed the threads on the connector.  I may not have needed the PTFE after all!  Keep quiet though, if you don't tell her I won't either.

We get a text.  We are having visitors in the shape of Bear and Sabrina. I dash back down to Asda for more supplies while Herself sorts the van.  On the return journey I take the opportunity to record another "site arrival" video, as frankly the one I did yesterday in the mist and drizzle was pants.

Bear silently rolls up in stealth m ode behind the wheel of his Hybrid Toyota at 1pm and immediately suggests a cold can.  It was going to be that sort of day.

The sun shone, we made our way through a case of Thatchers Gold,  the sun shone some more, we made our way through a case of Amstel, the sun shone even more and we made out way through a case of 1664.

To be honest it was great.  Myself and Bear haven't had a good slurp for far too long. All this time Herself and Sabrina embarked on a mammoth talkathon, rarely coming up for air.

It was past midnight that we were turning in, Herself and I in the bedroom at the back, Sabrina in the bed up front and Bear outside on the floor under the canopy in a Gortex bivvy bag....... don't ask!!

Sunday 13 June

7am and we're up, decidedly not as fresh as daises though.  Thick heads all round.  I'm sat on the edge of the bed scratching me thingies, and it strikes me how quickly things can change up here.  Just over a day ago after some rain Nant Haffen was flowing well, not exactly the torrent that it would be in winter, but a decent flow none the less, but now after 24 hours without rain it's reduced to merely a trickle.

Herself throws some bacon and sausages onto the hotplate for breakfast and by 10am we're saying goodbye to our guests as Bear's Toyota hybrid silently sneaks out of the site in stealth mode once more!

It's still morning, but very hot and I'm happy for once to have a bit of dappled shade and I desperately try to rehydrate after yesterday's shenanigans.

Not long to ourselves though.  Ronnie rocks up at 11am, they're visiting the show caves today and are dropping off their savage for us to look after.  They stop long enough for him to pack a daysack and for Beastie to explore the river before heading back off to meet their friends.

It's really hot now and Herself fancies spending some time in the air conditioned comfort of Toyah, so we head off out for a bit of a spin.  Turning left onto the A4067 and climb up to the Crai Resevoir where we fork right onto the single track roads towards the peak of Fforest Fawr.  We've dodged the sheep over Heol Senni and are climbing the steeply sloping switchbacks at Devil's Elbow when we come up behind the tail end of a pack of lycra clad nutters.

I was feeling sorry for the girl at the back as we climbed, she unzipped her top to get some ventilation going, and from the air conditioned comfort of Toyah we could see her calves swelling as she rounded the switchbacks.

On we continued as the pack had collapsed on a bank at the top of the climb. Following the road towards Ystradfellte where families had parked up enjoying the pools of Afon Llia along side the sheep.  We pulled down a dirt track to Blain Llia where the dogs were able to paddle in the stream to cool off.

We turn around, going back the way we came and I set up my phone on the dash to record both Devil's Elbow (the easy way) and Heol Senni back towards Crai.

Back on site we're greeted by Ronnie and MBW who are sat under our canopy, all done with caves and dinosaurs.  Beastie is outers in our bedroom having a well deserved power nap.

Once again the Fire Mountain is pressed into action, and have a simple evening meal of burgers before we follow them into the setting sun back west to call in on the olds.

10 pm by the time we got back to site, still light though, but to be honest we're knackered after yesterday's session, so it's not long before we're in bed and I'm cascading my own fountain on the pillow.

Monday 14 June

Woohoo, I had an all  nighter last night.  Fast asleep by 10.30pm and didn't stir once until 7am when my bladder decided enough was enough.  I'm up and feeling a lot fresher then yesterday morning!

The downside of course to my heavy sleep is that Herself was not as fortunate due to my generating of our own little mini thunderstorm inside the van with monumental snoring.  I let her have a lie in.

We breakfast on poached eggs before heading off our for a bit.  Out of the site we turn left up over Crai and down into Sennybridge, taking a right towards Brecon.  Herself had hinted that she was running low on perfume, so the plan was to have a wander.

Herself has never been that fussed with Brecon, she feels it's a little run down.  I think that's harsh, but lockdowns have done it no favours.  Herself declares that we are not stopping any longer than it takes me to put £50 worth of polluting juice into Toyah, but in a change from the norm actually suggesting an alternative.

Soon we're parking up at the Promenade, feeding a fist full of 20p coins into Turpin, and with the dogs clipped onto their extenders following the path of The River Usk upstream along the Gurkha path.

With the dogs refreshed thoughts now turn to phase 2 of Herself's plan.   Back in the car we take the A470 over the top towards Merthyr with Pen y Fan to our left.  After an emergency stop we're swinging into the car park of Nant Ddu Lodge where a pint of cold lager, a G&T to wash down fish finger butties does just the job.

We pass a young family in the car park.  I don't usually judge people, scratch that, I do usually judge people and in my estimation the Daddy is Grade I Listed Arsehole.  Bear with me on this one.

Toyah isn't exactly in her flushes of youth, but having had the good news this morning with a waterless wash and wax is looking rather good for her advancing years.  Just as they get within ear shot of us Daddy says to little boy "Do you remember which car belongs to daddy?"

The little boy looks around and points to a Range Rover tucked away in the corner.  Looking at us Daddy says " Yes, that's right.  It's the Range Rover.  The big posh, shiny one!" and sneers.

Why??

Back in aging Toyah we take the A4059 over the mountain to Penderyn.  The plan was to stop and take a look around the distillery there and maybe procure a little something special.  Herself has other ideas due to there being not enough shade for the dogs to be left.

We carry on picking up the A465 and heading down the Glynneath bank before taking the A4109 Inter Valley Road  and A4221 to Abercrave and then back to site.

Lovely day out it was, despite the belittling efforts of Daddy.

Tuesday 15 June

Great  kip again last night and by the time I peel myself off the sheets at 9.30am my once steaming mug of tea is sat gone cold on the table out in the awning.  Herself throws together some poached eggs for breakfast before we pop to Tesco for provisions.

Bloody hell, they're expensive in there, and driving back up the valley I'm a bit disturbed by what I just paid to barely cover the bottom of the trolley.

Herself rescues the day with the suggestion of lunch out.  Stopping at the van just long enough to stow away stuff, we're back out and pulling into the car park at The Ancient Briton.  They have their own caravan site here, and I pop in for a look, having considered it for this week's break.

The uncut grass and overflowing bins at the gate tells me I need not go any further to confirm we made the right choice.

Lunch was nice though, we both opted for cod and chips washed down with a pint of San Miguel.  Herself had a view on the mountain and I a view of passing traffic on the A4067.  Herself also bemoans my choice of table.  I thought I was doing the right thing picking one with a shade for the dogs, but as they lay basking in the sun, she complained continually about being "Freezing"

Herself doesn't yet know of my missing the step inside marked clearly in black and yellow markings and me taking a big fall in front of staff and customers.  The staff at least had the good grace to ask after my wellbeing while an old git local sat by the fire struggled to contain himself.

From here we head back up the valley for a short while and take a left opposite the Tafarn-Y-Garreg up on the mountain road towards Trecastle.  The road twists and turn as we climb following the very young River Tawe towards its source with the peak of Fan Hir to our left.

The scenery is breath taking with views over to Pen y Fan from the top.  Failing to find anywhere with space near to the water for the dogs to paddle we head back to site.

It's hot under the sun with very little breeze, and the dogs are struggling a bit.  Herself reminds me that we  I forgot to bring Gwawr's paddling pool from home last Friday and we I also forgot to pick it up when we returned home on Sunday to see the olds.

No amount of finger swiping can find one in stock anywhere near, nor can we even locate a kids sandpit that would suffice.  We've almost given up when a switch flicks on in Herself's bonse.  Less than an hour later we're back on site from Argos in Pontardawe and filling a baby bath for Gwawr to have a splash.

A few days back we'd thrown an invite in the direction of Roids and TF to visit us.  By 5pm we've not heard from them.  Herself rings to see where they are, and Roids replies that they're walking the dog and will be with us soon.

Herself and I look at each other puzzled, but say nothing as they both work long hours. 5.45 pm and Herself's phone rings.  It's Roids.

"Are you guys home?"

They'd gone to our house through the back gate, tried our French doors and the back door, both locked.  Only when they opened the side gate and saw a bloody big gap where our van usually  lives had they twigged!

To be fair to them though, at no point had we actually said to them that we were 26 miles away!  They thought they were just popping to Home is where You Drag It Towers for tea, but there's food involved, and that makes it serious as far as Roids is concerned, and I don't know what was said to TF, but I'd imagine over those 26 miles TF in her Fiat 500 would have given Vicky Butler-Herderson a bloody good run for her money.

We ate, had a drink and sat out until dark talking under the canopy with 2 candles, a coil burner and the BBQ doing their very best to fight off the midges.

We wave them off and TF's exhaust wouldn't have warmed back up by the time our heads are hitting the pillows.

Wednesday 16 June

Crap night last night.  I tossed and turned all night, giving it up as a bad job at 5am and going outside to sit and pout under the canopy in the cool early morning air.

Herself joins me at 9am and we breakfast on bacon rolls before having a few hours in the sun.

A light picnic lunch and drinks get thrown into a daysack and we make the short journey over to the nearby Craig y Nos Country Park.  I shoulder the weight, clip on the dogs to their extenders and we set off for a wander.

I've not been here for over 45 years, in fact last time were here Coupons kicked a 3 year old Rugby Ref up the arse all the way round here.  She'd pleaded with him the night before to sleep, knowing full well we had a big day out starting in the morning.  He didn't, and started his three year old tantrums as soon as we all piled out of the Vauxhall Viva.  You must understand though that this was in the early 1970s, and child abuse was totally acceptable back then, so nobody batted an eyelid!! 

The website for this place says ..........

This 40-acre country park forms part of the historic grounds of the Victorian Craig-y-nos Castle and is managed by the Brecon Beacons National Park Authority. The park offers a fun & safe day out for all the family. Easy to follow paths will take you on a gentle stroll past towering beech trees and alongside rushing rivers.

Step into the opulent world of Adelina Patti, the late 19th century diva, who established this park as a setting for her mansion, Craig-y-nos castle. Walk in her footsteps around her former garden and explore the lawns, meadows, woodlands, lakes and river banks. See the oak tree planted by Madame Patti in 1914 to commemorate her last performance at the Royal Albert Hall in aid of victims of World War I. You will also pass the Garden Pavilion, built for performing summer concerts in, and as a changing area for Patti’s guests to play tennis or croquet. As you pass the two lakes spare a thought for those who dug them out by hand – Patti had a 40 strong team of gardeners here. You may also spot Adelina Patti’s monogram on the white metal bridge and a bed of roses near the fish-pond, planted to commemorate the centenary of her death in 2019.

I'll let the pictures do the talking.

By the time we're done Herself's knackered knee is screaming at her, it's the furthest she's walked on it in 12 months and I know she's pushed it too far.  Left out of the gates and I suggest a pint.  I slow outside the Penycae Inn, but Herself doesn't fancy that.  She's obviously not read that they have their own mini zoo at the back of the pub.

Two bends later down the A4067 and we're pulling into the car park of The Ancient Briton once more.  Herself takes the dogs to choose a table without shade and I go in to order some drinks, giving the step a wide berth.  Today I have a view of the mountain while Herself people watches the other tables, teasing me with snippets knowing full well that I can't turn around to look.

We head back to site to chill for a few hours, and I can see from the colour on her face, she's really overdone it with her knee.  I make full use of the baby bath to cool my feet, much to Gwawr's disgust.

Neither of us CBA to cook this evening and Herself is fancying a curry after all the burgers we've eaten this week.  While Google and Tripadvisor are great, there's nothing like a local's recommendation.  Once more I put out the SOS to my imaginary friend off Twitter, and like the Topman that he is (despite being an Ospreys fan) he comes up trumps once more.

Mind you, I think my "I'll be back" quip was lost on the owner of Rice & Spice (as it would be for most of my readers as I think you need to be from South wales to get the joke).

*EDIT ..... Little wonder it was lost on him.  His establishment is in Ystradgynlais and not Ystalyfera.  My bad.

Thursday 17 June

Herself suffered with her knackered knee last night, the few large G&Ts she had before turning in doing nothing to ease her discomfort.  Therefore in the confines of our caravan bed that is about 2ft narrower than the king size we have at home, we both had a restless night.

After breakfasting on slices of eggy bread (I'm sure there is a posh word for it) we pile into Toyah for a day out.  Turning left we once again head up over Crai, only this time stopping briefly to take in a view of the reservoir  that supplies water to the Jacks that inhabit the towns and villages to the north of Swansea.  You can't get near the water though so I'm unable to have a pee in it!!

Carrying on we pass through Sennybridge and Trecastle on the A40 before turning off and taking the Military Road up over Mynydd Epynt.

The Ministry of Defence acquired several thousand acres of Mynydd Epynt in 1939. This now forms the core of the Sennybridge Training Area (SENTA). It is one of the largest military training zones in the UK and is of restricted access owing to the use of live ammunition and explosives. Unsurprisingly this move was a controversial one, not least for those people who were required to vacate their land. The families who left Mynydd Epynt in 1939 were not given any compensation.

The core area of Mynydd Epynt is used by the MOD as a military training area and artillery range. There is therefore little access across this land.

Even though the road is open the red flags are out, with dire warnings signed adjacent listing the areas you are and are not allowed to access. No pressure there then as one wrong turn could find you in the sights of a 120mm L30.

We drop down through Tirabad and roll into Beulah where I slow down outside The Trout Inn with the intention of stopping for a drink.  Herself didn't like the look of it so I'm instructed to carry on.

I'm getting hungry now, and suggest stopping at a picnic spot I know of.  We've passed through Llanwrtyd Wells on the A483 and are pulling off road into a picnic area at some point between Sugar Loaf and Cynghordy.  Herself didn't like the look of this place either!!!!

At Llandovery we take the A40 back in the direction of Brecon, and at Halfway I turn off the road into another picnic spot that I know of in the Crychan forest.  Herself gets no time to object as I turn off Toyah, let the dogs out, grab our day sack and stomp towards the picnic table.  She knows I'm hungry though, but still has to have the last word.

"Why can't we sit at that bench over there instead?"

I bite my lip clambering up the slope, before settling down in an idyllic spot for our picnic lunch, before taking a walk up into the forestry.

Toyah gets pointed back towards site with the intention of stopping off at a pub with a tidy beer garden.  We didn't find one, and once again we are pulling into the car park of The Ancient Briton for a mid afternoon slurp.

Same beer garden, same table, same view but a different pint.

Back on site the Fire Mountain gets pressed into action once more.  I'm loving the little thing to be honest, it's a proper charcoal bbq and for lighting it is ready to cook in under 10 mins.  The steaks were superb.

An evening walk is required to help the meal settle.  We clip on the dogs and walk down through the site, turning left at the entrance and along the road 1/2 mile to The Gwyn Arms. 

I leave Herself with the dogs and go inside to get some drinks.  I open the door and everyone stops talking and turn to watch.  I get the distinct feeling that I've interrupted something and the atmosphere immediately reminds me of Hot Fuzz or American Werewolf in London.  "Stay off the moors!!"

Herself can see it on my face, and spookily as I take the first swig she says "Stay off the moors!"  Lovely way to round off another fine day in the mountains.

Friday 18 June

We won't be able to walk far today.  Herself has given her knackered knee far too much punishment lately and is silently suffering.

Different mountain today.  Taking a right at Ystalyfera we drive through Cwmtwrch (Lower and then Upper) onto Brynamman where we take the A4069 Mountain Road up onto The Black Mountain Pass (not to be confused with The Black Mountains a little further east) to the top which at 802m is the 3rd highest peak in South Wales.  Petrol Heads may be interested to note that this stretch of road featured in Top Gear regularly as they test drove many a  supercar over the pass.  Hammond wouldn't get away with it these days though as there is an imposed 40mph speed limit!!

Below is a clip of me taking my little toy Slk over the pass some 4 years back

We stop long enough to take in the view of the land below from Llandeilo to Llandovery and get out for a short walk along one of the ridges.

Back in Toyah we coast down towards Llangadog, turning right at Twynllanan towards Trecastle.  The idea was to call in on the Red Kite feeding station, but although seeing a few of the birds circling overhead we totally missed it.

After a while we spot a temporary village up ahead.  Loads of Fifth Wheel trailers, lines and lines of stables, marquee after marquee as well as multiple catering vans.  I slow down to see one sign written van "TV / Movie Location Filming", but before I can have a good look a mini army of orange vests are heading in my direction to get me to move along.

I want to front it out as I'm on a public highway, but Herself gets too stressed and threatens to remove all conjugal rights unless I press my right foot down.

A little further on I take a sharp left following brown tourist signs for Usk Resevoir.  Once under the dam and up the other side the road got interesting, Herself holding onto her bosom as Toyah lurched from pothole to pothole.

We stopped long enough to take in the view and for Tali to annoy the local anglers when we remember we've no picnic with us today.  We drop down into Trecastle and turn right towards Sennybridge in the hunt for a pub with a beer garden (not roadside tables) serving food.

Just the other side of Sennybridge I pull into the car park of The White House Hotel.  Herself is not impressed and the look on her chops says we're not stopping.

"There'll be something else soon, carry on."

Obeying the instruction I follow the A40 towards Brecon.  Nothing.  I pull into Brecon Golf Club.

"We won't be welcome here."

Through Brecon and we're on the A40 towards Abergavenny and I have a brainwave.  A few years back we had a lovely meal in a pub in Llangorse.  I turn off and thread through the lanes that way.  Pulling up in the car park of The Red Lion we're dismayed to see it's closed.  Closed mind on a Friday lunchtime!

Things are getting tense inside Toyah, and Herself decides that silence is the best option.  After skirting the lake at breakneck speed we re-join the A40 towards Crickhowell.  There were many pubs, but all closed.  Time is getting on now and my fuse is now so short it's ingrowing.

I'm no longer taking any chances.  We're that close to Abergavenny I'm heading straight for a certainty, and pulling into the car park of The Lamb & Flag we're relieved to see them open and people eating food!

Herself doesn't break her self imposed vow of silence until I'm at least half way through my Pie & Mash!

Back to site via Crickhowell, Brecon, Sennybridge and Crai as we ponder at how lucky we've been this week with the weather, especially considering how many of my imaginary friends on Twitter have been bemoaning getting a soaking or having holidays cancelled due to waterlogged pitches this weekend on the wrong side of Offa's Dyke!

Roids and TF join us for tea, but we're not able to sit out tonight as the site has been besieged by midges, and the little barstewards are biting!  We retreat indoors, locking shut all the windows to keep them out.

Saturday 19  June

Up early this morning after a very muggy and still night to break camp and head back home.  Slow and methodical is the key for us these days, but we're hitched up and rolling out of the site by 9.45am.  Aside from an altercation with a lycra clad middle aged Kamakazi git, the 26 miles home was uneventful.

This where my day went tits up.  I'd sent off a text to The Captain next door announcing our imminent arrival at Home is Where You Drag It Towers and he was on the ball in shifting his Merc out of the way.

Unhitched and movers engaged I halt the traffic and swing the van towards the driveway.  With the van

diagonal blocking both lanes the rollers stopped turning.  I pressed the button and it moved 2 inches and stopped again.  I repeated this 5 or six times until she refused to budge any further.

I now think the battery is knackered and am shouting to Herself for help.  Traffic starts to beep.  Tuff, nothing I can do.  Our van is a twin axle so is not easy to push.  With Herself on the handbrake while I put my shoulder to it in an attempt to rotate it enough to hitch back up.

We get it so that just one lane is blocked and the traffic fights to get past, beeping and shaking fists as they crawl by.  Best not to mention Herself's toe getting run over by the Karrt jockey wheel, except to say that their claim that it's good an any terrain (smooth or bumpy) is certainly true.  The swelling and bruising will fade in time!

Hitched up I pull it up the hill to Coupons who has a nice big layby outside her bungalow so I can assess the situation.  The control panel is showing 13.4V and that the battery is also being charged by the solar panel.

I fire up the mover without engaging it.  It'll go back and forward now after a reset but will not turn.  I get on the blower to 3aaa, and after hearing my predicament of not being able to put the van away off the road they reluctantly agree to me towing it down there for one of the technicians to take a look.

Very generous of them considering that just over 2 years ago I parted with well over £20k for the brand new van and brand new mover all supplied and fitted by them, even though they insist my warranty is with Powrtouch!

The technician fiddles for a while and is of the opinion that either one or both brains for the quad mover are playing up as the battery is fully charged, and even under load is not dropping anywhere near 12V.

I leave it with them and they ring Powrtouch.

Apart from today's episode it's been a superb week.  We've been happy with our new Isabella canopy, our private mountain stream pitch and we've been very lucky with the weather.  Also a change for us to be away from the sea and to be up in the mountains, and environment we've made the most of, spending most of the week crisscrossing the various tops on un named single track  roads.