What can you buy a man of 85 years that needs nor wants for anything, except to spend time with family?
That's right, a holiday! Which is why for the last few years that is what we've bought Grumbles, except for last year that is due to Coupons not being well enough to travel!
Just before Christmas an e mail dropped into Herself's inbox from Haven offering 4 nights in a mid range static at their Perranporth site for the very reasonable price of £209 including the all important insurance.
Monday 17th March
Would have been Coupons' birthday today, our first without her, so I popped over to have a quick chat before setting off. Thinking back to this time last year, and despite being so weak and gravely ill she was insistent to have one last birthday bash, with all her family around her, and being Coupons, everyone had to be fed. Too weak of course to do the catering herself she sent out for KFC to feed all guests. £80 she spent on C Saunders' finest mind!
Anyway, wiping the tears away I'm helping the dogs into the boot and Grumbles ambles round the corner bang on time at 8.30am.
We're climbing the slip road at J48 and heading east on the M4 having avoided the worst on the early morning rush hour. The traffic was kind and once Port Talbot was cleared cruise control was set to 75 and we make good progress, stopping briefly at Taunton Dean for a pee.
Many people on my Facebook groups go on about the "Nearly There Trees", but despite coming to Cornwall for 33 years we've never actually seen them due to always towing down overnight.
Well we've seen them now.
Plain sailing it was until we got to the Perranporth junction on the A30 and hit a Road Closed sign. The diversion signed is to back track and head for Newquay via Indian Queens then to Perranporth.
A bit of an inconvenience, but we're joining the queue at check in at 12.55pm.
The van has been cleaned, we know that as the floors are still wet, and the cleaning team come over pretending to ask if all is Ok with the van, they were after a tip but got no joy here and I usher them out before they have a chance to speak to Herself!
I have a bit of fun with Herself.
"Babe, can you pass me the roofbox key."
"I haven't got it."
"You must have, it was by your purse on the kitchen table."
She starts to lose her colour.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes I'm bloody positive."
"Are you sure it's not under the armrest in Trude?"
"How many times woman, it was on the table attached to it's lanyard next to your purse so we didn't forget it."
Herself goes out to the car to check it herself, but I'd already stowed it away. Twice she emptied that cubby hole and was on the verge or tears.
Herself doesn't do violence, but I'm pretty certain if I'd been within her reach when I produced the landyard from my pocket I would have been on the receiving end of a very effective punch to the throat!
Once unpacked Herself and Grumbles start to complain about tummies rumbling. Mine wasn't as I'd grabbed myself a sneaky muffin from McD when I went in alone for a pee!
We clip the dogs on and head down to Surf Bay for a late lunch before taking a quick spin down into Perranporth for some provisions. Grumbles is grumbling about being cold, so getting out of the car for a walk around is out of the question, so just take a quick spin to the higher ground to take in the view.
After a few hours of festering Herself starts to get worried that I'll be asleep by 6.30 pm, and she's probably not that far from the mark, so suggest a wander down to Coast Sports Bar, and then suggests it again and again. Grumbles caves in first so we pick up out darts wallets, Grumbles wraps up against the Arctic biting wind and we clip on the dogs to head out.
The Guinness is superb, probably rating as the best I've had in some time, but at £6.35 a pint is bloody needs to be.
I throw a few down my neck, and then a few more for good measure while Herself gets on the app and orders some goodness from Pappa Johns to be delivered to the van a bit later on.
The dartboard is roped off, so I didn't get the opportunity to smash Grumbles. It's out of order apparently. How can a dartboard be out of order?
Food was supposed to arrive at 8.15pm. By 8.30pm I'm getting twitchy. Herself checks our banking app, and despite them accepting and confirming the order, no money has been debited. Something's fishy so I pop down to investigate. The store is closed with a sign on the door saying "Due to unforeseen circumstances blah blah blah! They could have bloody told us!
I waddle as fast as I can round to Slim Chickens and order 3 of their finest meals just before they bang down the shutters for the night.
Tuesday 18 March
Struggled to sleep last night. Grumbles requires the heating to be turned up flat out in order not to get hypothermia, so you can probably see our static glow from space, that combined with Herself, I and the two dogs occupying the tiny 8 x 8 bedroom made breathing very difficult. Come 2am I'm storming up front to shut the boiler down and I go into the spare bedroom, fling the window wide open and settle down on one of the kiddy sized beds.
We're up and breakfasted quite early and out of the van by 10am and heading into Newquay, firstly heading up over to Fistral where a few dozen lunatics in neoprene are playing in the Atlantic below.
We have a mission, you see Grumbles brought a coat with him that looks like he's been gardening in it for the last 2 or 3 years. It's disgusting, and Herself is not amused, especially considering he had loads of tidy coats at home.
Parkin up in St Georges Rd carpark we head into town, Herself almost dragging Grumbles along by his earlobe like a naughty child, first Millets then Mountain Warehouse and finally Trespass where he finds one he likes and is within his comfort zone after Herself applies her Blue Light discount.
He did refuse to throw his gardening coat in the bin though.
Herself is stressed and in need of a coffee, I'm also in need of a pee, so we dive into The Cornish Sweet Company just a few doors down on Bank St that is advertising coffee and has tables inside. We order the coffees and take a seat. I'm dismayed that they do not appear to have any toilets. I thought it was a legal requirement for a cafe to have toilets, but there you go.
My eyes are watering now as I gulp down the steaming hot liquid and wait impatiently for Grumbles to look through the 2nd hand book collection they have!
The walk back down through the town was a lot more rapid, and by the time we take a window seat at The Fort Inn I'm beside myself. I shout the order as I pass the barman on the way to the toilets and virtually blast the glaze off the porcelain on opening the pressure release valve.
The views are great from this place and we soak them in while at the same time watching the antics of an Airbus A321 circle overhead time and time again.
Grumbles is cold, despite wearing about 6 layers, hat and gloves with a pair of handwarmers, so some car time is required.
We take the road that hugs the coast northwards, dropping into Porth, Magwan Porth and Watergate Bay on the way to Padstow.
First up is lunch, and we head to our old favourite, The Old Ship Hotel for a light lunch before taking a wander around the windswept streets.
We've been out a while now, so time to make tracks back, again via the scenic coastal road. we're not long out of Padstow and I spot a sign of somewhere we've never been. Dropping down into Trevone Bay I'm flattened by the beauty of the place, and being so far out of season we almost have it to ourselves.
Herself's knee is telling her that's enough for today, and Grumbles wouldn't be getting outside even under gunpoint, so me and the dogs enjoy some serious beach time.
Back on site, and after crashing for a while Herself's thoughts turn to an evening meal. Cooking is out of the question, mainly because we've nothing in to cook, also I'm not volunteering to be Des either so it's either a takeaway or Surf Bay. Surf bay won and I waste no time in ensuring that Trude's wheels are turning no further today.
After a frankly forgettable Fisherman's Platter and 1/3 of a Chocolate Clementine Torte (see, Grumbles once again refused to order a dessert for himself, but once mine came stared at me eating it, what's that taste like? what's the ice-cream like? I gave up and just slid the dish over to him and he promptly demolished it) we adjourned to the Coast Sports Bar for a few nightcaps before heading back up the hill to the van.
Wednesday 19 March
Same again last night and I lasted until 1am before escaping to the small bedroom with a wide open window.
Gwen ensured we had an early start by managing to get herself stuck between the two small beds and the door. She had a fright bless her, and thought she was in trouble!
Truro was the destination this morning, took some getting to mind as Cornwall Council have yet to remove redundant signs following the A30 works, which is quite shocking as this section had been open over a year now.
Attempting to park in Highcross car park was hastily abandoned as the roofbox crashed into the height warning barrier, necessitating a reverse maneuver back out onto St Clement St and then through The Bronks into Moresk car park.
Trying now to thread our way into the city centre we're using the cathedral as a target in the sky, and come across a car park belonging to Truro Methodist Church. A rather welcoming sign by the church promises dire consequences for anyone using it as an access point, citing section 34 of The Highways Act. We roundly ignored it and found our way to the cathedral, now looking for the Farmer's Market that is said to take place in its shadows.
We couldn't find it and resort to asking directions from a local. After a few rights and lefts Lemon Quay comes into sight and a collection of stalls at the end.
It doesn't hold our attention for long, but I did bag myself a rather expensive tub of fudge, before back tracking back into town. Herself mugs Grumblkes for a pair of earings while I take in the sounds of a busker singing swing on a corner.
We last came into Truro and stopped way back in 1994, and to be honest I think it would be another 30 years until we do so again!
We hit the road towards Falmouth and find a space to abandon Trude at Grove Place car park, we have a quick look around Event Square, in which no events are taking place, before trying to find somewhere for lunch. Just on our right is Windslammer with a sign outside welcoming dogs and promising harbour views.
That'll do us, so we climb the ramp and take a table inside. I have to say that the harbour view was somewhat a bit of a let down, but they can't really help that it's a working dockyard outside their window.
It has to be said though, the food was outstanding, so still a win. Over lunch it became apparent that Grumbles wasn't himself. Well he was, but grumbling a bit more. Turns out he was knackered, but perked up a bit when I suggested maybe we didn't walk through Falmouth after lunch and returned to Trude for some car time. He is 85 mind, and put in about 9000 steps yesterday.
We hop over the top and passed the busy town beaches before dropping down into Maenporth Beach. It looks ideal, we can park Trude overlooking the beach for Herself and Grumbles to look on while I take to dogs for some off lead fun. Another great little find today.
Chill time at the van for a few hours for Grumbles to recharge until his stomach starts to grumble again indicating it's time to start thinking about an evening meal. None of us really fancy Surf Bay's offerings again, and cooking doesn't appeal so a takeaway it is.
I'm dropping down into Perranporth just as they're opening the road back up and people are out in their dozens taking in the sunset as I scout surroundings for a cash point.
Jade House doesn't look much from the outside, and looks a lot worse on the inside, and I'm pretty sure that brown envelopes changed hands during the inspection process that resulted in a 4 food hygiene rating, but we had a meal from here last year and survived.
Grumbles was starving and was well into his 2nd plate of chicken curry and fried rice before he cam up for air!
Everyone was far too comfortable in the confines of Blast Furnace #4 to even consider going out, so a bottle of Captain Morgan's provided company until it was a respectable time to hit the hay.
Thursday 20 March
Slept a lot better today, still had to swap bedrooms mind, but didn't wake until 7.30am to see blue skies have returned today.
Grumbles was late getting up, and come 8.30am with no sounds of movement at all Herself pops her head around his door to check ....... well you know.
He's not looking too bright this morning, so after breakfast we sit around the van until he looks up from his Codebreakers and asks if we are going out.
We park up in a nearly empty car park hidden behind the Launderette on North St in St Ives and I debit the cost of 2 pints to abandon Trude for a while. We thread our way down and walk the length of Fore St popping in and out of shops on the hunt for gifts to take back. A shop window catches my attention and I message the Admiral to see if they'd be suitable for Bwmps. He's all for it at first, but it became apparent that he'd showed his screen to teacher!
We failed miserably in the gift hunting department, but Grumbles scored himself some braces to pull his trousers further up his chest!
We grab a table both in the sun and out of the wind outside The Sloop to have a drink, watch the world go by and soak in the view.
I suggest another, but Herself and Grumbles dismiss the suggestion, wanting to move on. I turn left onto The Wharf, but am called back.
"No, this way towards the car."
Trundling back along Wharf Rd we stop in Fat Willys where we get stung far too much for a few hoodies and tee shirts.
I've been hankering after some crab since we got down here, but everywhere we stop they don't have any. I slow down outside The Rum & Crab Shack on Wharf Rd that has an offer on, Crab Sandwich and a bowl of Chowder at just £12. That'll do me and I say that sounds nice. They both carry on walking.
I slow down outside the Lifeboat Inn to peruse the menu. They didn't break step!
I'm in a right strop now, and when we get back to the car Herself asks what we're going to do about lunch. Both barrels were discharged and we coasted out of St Ives, down into Carbis Bay, back up out of Carbis Bay, through Hayle to Godrevy Lighthouse and onto Portreath in an awkward silence.
It wasn't until we'd taken a table for lunch inside The Portreath Arms that words were spoken, and that was only to confirm orders. That wasn't incident free either. Both Grumbles and Herself had looked at the menu and made their choices, Herself then handing the menu to me. It's on the table in front of me and I'm starting to have a look when Grumbles reaches over and takes it away from me.
To be fair, Herself now senses the danger and grabs it back, scolding Grumbles at the same time.
Refreshed and now communicating with each other verbally rather than on Post it notes we set off round the corner and drop down into Porthtowan. We park up outside Blue Bar on Beach Rd, assuming Grumbles isn't getting out, and leaving him with the view through his window while Herself and I takes the dogs down to the beach.
It was blowy, very blowy, but I'm not complaining with the weather we've had down here this week at all.
Chill time again at the van, and after a while I look up from my Laptop and everyone else is enjoying some personal contemplation time, all of them, so I shut the lid and retired to the bedroom to rest my eyes.
A full two hours later and Herself is shaking me, and it's well passed Grumbles' tea time. Shoes are hastily thrown on and we make our way down the slope to Coast Sports Bar, where the darts occupy all the screens. With drinks procured I pop next door to Pappa Johns to procure a pizza for Herself and I to share and a barrow full of chicken wings (make sure they're plain mind, I don't want spicy one, or crispy ones) for Grumbles.
We didn't stay too late, all worn out, well that and Gezzy Price got knocked out!
Friday 21 March
Going home day today, so we're up quite early again. Just a cup of coffee with a promise to stop somewhere on the A30 for breakfast. We're loaded up, cleaned the van and hitched up for the off by 8am.
I've had some comments on The Book and Twitter asking how did it tow? Well, Google tells me the static will weigh 2000kg and if I add 500kg for removable furniture. It I were to put some brakes on the van it would be well within Trude's 3500kg towing limit, and I can't see the nose weight being any higher than her 260kg limit either.
How stable the rig would be is anyone's guess though.
Traffic is light and we're making good time on the A30, however I can see Grumbles getting more and more agitated in the back seat as we eat up the miles. We approach Okehampton and I follow the signs to Whitehouse Services. There's a knife and fork on the brown sign so I'm somewhat dismayed, and so was Grumbles, to see just some fuel pumps and a shop with Costa.
Pulling away, and out of the corner of my eye I see an oasis in the form of the former Whitehouse Transport Cafe that has not gone a bit up market. I have to say the breakfast was superb, all good quality ingredients and presented really well. Certainly beat anything Exeter service could have thrown together.
The traffic gods continued to be good to us and our wheels didn't stop turning until we rocked up outside Home is Where you Drag it Towers at 12.45pm.
A fantastic mini break was had. We've not holidayed in a static for some time, but that looks like it's the way it's going to be for a while. Herself won't leave Grumbles for anything more than a few nights (well he is 85), and even when we can find accommodation adjacent to touring sites for him the cost can be prohibitive, and out of season Haven can represent excellent value for money.
