A split 2 week break this year. Part 1 is away with Grumbles in a static on the south coast, and part 2 will be Herself and I escaping in our van somewhere yet to be decided for the 2nd week.
Saturday 13 June
After a very mixed week of weather we're happy to wake to blue skies and sunshine. I'm in a shorts and tee finishing off loading the car when Grumbles ambles over at 9am complaining about the cold!
He usually takes himself off for a cooked breakfast every morning, but today has decided against it and has arrived at ours with just a solitary Weeatabix sloshing around in his belly. I just know he's going to be hankering after food before we've left Wales, even though Herself had told him last night we'd be stopping for lunch enroute.
The M4 through south Wales was kind to us, but Grumbles starts to get edgy in my rear view mirror as we pass Magor services. It's 11am when I pull off at Leigh Delamare to have a stretch and a pee, both me and the girls.
Grumbles pipes up from the back in his best Oliver Twist "Could I have a sandwich or something?" Herself is straight on it "Dad, I said we were going to stop off for lunch somewhere on the way!"
We're on the M3 heading south and Grumble's concerned face is occupying my rear view mirror as we pass each set of services until we hit a wall of tail lights approaching the road works at J3.
I turn off and head in towards Winchester in the hunt for somewhere to eat. The first place we happen across is The Willow Tree. We abandon Trude on a single yellow line and Herself throws her Blue Badge on the dash before we lead the dogs and are greeted by the very friendly waiting staff at the entrance to the beer garden.
Google waxes lyrical in praise for the place, "The Willow Tree boasts a beautiful riverside garden, along with all your favourite pub classics" and I must say that's quite accurate.
Lunch was superb, and feeling suitably refreshed we rejoin the M3 for the last 1 hour to our destination.
First visual impressions on pulling into Church Farm Holiday Village at Pagham are good, spotlessly clean and manicured landscaping.
On every other Haven site we've been to, check in has been at security and you head straight to your allocated van to break the seal on the door.
We pull up at the security lodge, and the goon dressed in black roundly ignores us while he faffs about with something. He finishes his faffing, looks at us parked up on the white line as instructed, roundly ignores us again and unlocks the lodge door before going inside.
Oh, he's just sorting the paperwork we think, and he shuffles around scraps of paper before turning his back on us to put the kettle on!
"Excuse me, is this where we check in?"
A shake of the head follows before he turns back around to give the kettle his undivided attention.
"Could you tell us where we check in then please?"
He points to "over there" as words are apparently too much trouble.
Reception is in a rather posh old church building, and after being given a tag to hang from the mirror we're driving down towards 64 Priory View.
It immediately become apparent that we're nowhere near the main facilities, and we keep driving further and further. I joke that if we drive south much further we'll be on the beaches of Normandy!
The van is found and is clean and tidy so we unload and chill for an hour before making our way to Morrisons in Bognor where Herself has arranged a Click and Collect.
An evening meal is procured from Royal Spice, where the sweaty mess front of house virtually begs me to pay in cash in exchange for a £5 discount - I agreed as £5 is £5. But to be fair it was good, really good, and ranks as the best curry we've had in some time.
With full bellies and plates washed we're at risk of falling asleep without actually having done anything much today, so clip on the dogs and head out for an evening stroll along the tidal Broad Rife that forms part of Pagham Harbour adjacent to where our caravan is.
The tide was out, and Gwen gets into trouble covering herself in horrible looking black mud!
The van is bathed in late evening sunshine, flooding the lounge with warmth and light. Herself and I enjoy a few beers and glasses of grape juice while Grumbles takes himself off to bed. We see him daily at home, but that's only for a few hours at tea time, it's only when he comes away with us and he's in our company 24/7 do we realise how his advancing years are catching up with him. He gets very tired.
News filters through to us. It's Roids' presentation night at his rugby club tonight. It's their 150th anniversary year, so it's a special one. He only went and picked up 3 awards. Players Player of the Year, Coaches Player of the Year and overall Player of the Year.
Some accolade.
Sunday 14 June
I'm up far too early after a good night's rest, and once late enough to be respectable I'm walking adjacent to Pagham Harbour with the dogs.
We get to the beach, and whilst the tide is out it's left behind a clean pool for Gwen to have a dip and wash out all of last night's mud.
Back at the van Grumbles is now up and tapping his fingers awaiting his morning coffee and breakfast.
Herself always likes to play a game that it's me that gets itchy feet on holiday, and it's me that won't sit around the van relaxing.
By 10.30am it's her and Grumbles that are sat ready to head off out for a bit of an explore. We head towards LittleHampton, never been there before and only heard of it because the CAMHC have a site there, and a set of wardens I'm no great fan of were posted there once.
Parking was an issue. All the car parks have a 2m height barrier, which while being good at excluding piss taking van lifers, also excluded holiday makers in a 4x4 with a roof box. We take a left at Oyster Pond and find a space on Arun Parade with just an hour allowed.
We walk along the Arun Channel to the East Beach area. Crabbing seems to be the theme here, with families hanging lines over the side, and to be fair they've all got crabs in their haul buckets!
The beach bans dogs though, which is fair enough so we continue on to the West Green. That too has a sign prohibiting dogs. We know when we're not wanted, so return to Trude.
The guys in the Coastguard hut advised that the beach further down by the huts is dog friendly so we head that way along Sea Road. A beachside establishment catches our eye, so we park up for free and take a table for lunch right on the beach at "The Beach" after letting the dogs have a cooling dip in the English Channel.
Grumbles made me laugh though. We're at the counter placing our order and the young girl is having difficulty using the till. She has a walkie talkie that she's been issued to radio in the manager if she has any problems. She calls him and she calls him, no answer. Grumbles asks where he is, and on being given the answer he storms off. I can see him stood outside the kitchen mouthing off to someone and pointing fingers!
That wasn't the end of it though. Herself and I were sharing a plate of Nachos, which came almost immediately. There was no sign of Grumbles' Tuna Melt. Time ticked on and he's about to blow a fuse. I go to the kitchen to ask where it is, and after a while the young boy says I'll bring it out now.
Still no sign and after another 5 mins the manager strides over.
"Did you pay for it?"
"Well yes, she read back my order before taking payment."
"Oh, ok, it'll be out soon."
Another 5 mins, no sign of the food, and the manager has walked passed our table 3 times and not uttered a word. 4th time and I grab him to say it's still not arrived.
"It wasn't paid for!"
"Weren't you going to tell us?"
This was lost on him, but it appears the bint earlier had messed up. I'd not finished my food, but was marched inside to pay for Grumble's Tuna Melt before they'd send one out to him.
That said, it was an idyllic spot to waste a few hours, right on the beach with an uninterrupted view of the beach and water.
Back on site we get the chairs down from the roof box a settle down for a few hours relaxation in the sun. I may have fallen asleep at some point and my solar panel will sting in the shower tonight!
Late afternoon we decide to head up to the Marsh and barrel for a pint. that pint turned into 2 pints and a Sunday Roast, rather then faff around making tea a little later on.
News starts to filter though from home. Following on from Roids' night last night Beastie has her football club's presentation this evening, and she's also picked up an award for most improved player.
Proud Mam & Dad and Mims & Dats this weekend.
Monday 15 June
Before coming away we'd been having a mare with Autoglass. Our windscreen suffered a stone strike while away in Pembrokeshire a few weeks ago. We contacted them immediately and the earliest appointment they had was for last Wednesday at home.
After waiting in all day we contacted them at 3pm only to be told our call had been cancelled because they'd ordered the wrong windscreen. Majorly pissed off, one, because they didn't bother to tell us, and two because we suspect it's bullshit. Exactly the same excuse 3 years ago on our last Touareg! We suspect the fitter didn't fancy the job!
Anyway, it's scheduled for today for between 8am and 1pm. We're up in time and by 9am we've still not had confirmation. Herself gets on the blower and she's told just after 11am.
I take the dogs for a walk along part of the England Coast Path that runs along the side of Pagham Harbour, still no water in it.
I've got a bad feeling about this as 11am comes and goes. The arrangement was for the fitter to ring us when on his way for us to meet at reception.
I lose my nerve and jump in the car to take a spin up there just in case. Sure as eggs is eggs, the fitter is sat there in his van.
"You here for me?"
"Yes, I think so."
"Follow me."
He gets straight down to it.
While he's working he comes over to our decking.
"Autoglass have just cancelled the job!"
By now he's got the old screen destroyed and out and is prepping the replacement, and has told them he's already on the job.
Turns out Autoglass had given him a contact number for us with a missing digit, and were going to cancel the job with the excuse "Couldn't contact customer."
Bloody good job I drove up to reception "just in case!"
Anyway, he's done in under 1 1/2 hours, even if he hadn't fitted the new wipers that I paid an additional £49 for because they only sent out one! Herself is on the blower to autoglass before his exhaust has time to warm up demanding a refund, having had quite enough of their incompetence / lies.
Job done, just needed to wait it out an hour for the bonding adhesive to cure sufficiently before Trude can be moved.
We head off out for a bit under strict instructions that Herself doesn't want to be sitting in the car all day. I head for Bognor Regis as there seemed to be a bit going on around the pier area there. We cruised the sea front first but Herself decided there wasn't much there.
I pull in and pick somewhere off the map. Rocking up at East Whittering it appears it's just a car park for the beach and they want £9 to park up, so that wasn't happening either.
I'm losing the will to live and things get fraught. I recall they do harbour tours from Itchenor Harbour. Rolling down the hill that idea is also eschewed and I park up at The Ship Inn. Heading inside Grumbles is in my earhole fretting about the car park, so first things first I punch in Trude's reg number on the screen to avoid the threatened £100 fine.
We have a drink on the tables out front and Grumbles takes himself back down the hill to have a look at the ferry. Herself gets cold in the breeze so we retreat to the beer garden out back which is a bit of a sun trap.
Back on site we call in The Marsh and Barrel on the way through for tea. We had planned on a chinese takeaway later, but it turns out that it's closed tonight.
A walk along the path adjacent to Pagham Harbour is taken, and I really do need to look up the tide tables for this place at it always appears to be empty!
Herself and Grumbles perch themselves on the end of the walkway while I take the dogs down to the channel to throw a few stones.
Tuesday 16 June
Unheard of for me, but I had a lie in. It was 9.30am when the wafting aroma of a hot frying pan filled my hooter. As Moxy once said on Aufiderzein Pet "I don't know a man alive who can sleep through the smell of hot lard!"
I glance at my phone, and noting the lateness of the hour realise that Grumbles must be beside himself by now, nagging Herself for breakfast.
Superb effort it was too, but then it always is when someone else does the cooking for you.
We head off out, this time heading west. We've gone about 7 or 8 miles ....
"Babe, did you pick up the dog leads?"
"No, aren't they in the car?"
"No they were in the van last night after our walk."
About now, if I was an attention seeking Influencer or YouTuber I'd be posting teasing thumbnails about a disaster that ruined our holiday. We're grown ups though, so Herself Googled the nearest Pets at Home and we diverted to the one in Chichester to buy a new pair.
Disaster averted we carry on over the border into Hampshire and over Bridge Lake onto the island. We're heading south towards Hayling Island Beach near West Town, as that appears to be where everything is at on Google Maps, and the Donkey Sanctuary is closed today.
Rolling along Beach Rd and onto the Sea Front it immediately become apparent that everything around Funlands is also closed. We drive along the front as far as the Eastoke Car Park, get the chairs down from the roofbox and set them up on the top of the shingle bank.
Herself and Grumbles settle down and I go down to the sea to play with Gwen and Gwawr in the surf. Clambering back up the bank I realise all is not well. They don't have Kite Surfing Schools here for no reason, and both Herself and Grumbles are cold in the wind coming offshore.
I wander over to the Hayling Island Railway, and that too is closed today.
We pack up, but on leaving we look on aghast as a Chav family in a Ford pick up threw chips to the fighting sea gulls, thinking it's funny. As if that wasn't bad enough, when finished they just opened their door and threw out the cardboard containers onto the floor. I stopped and pointed at them, and the Chav bitch just shrugged. FFS, some people.
I'd seen brown signs for Fisherman's Creek on the way in, so with some difficulty we find that in the hope there will either be something there that is open, or at least somewhere to sit. There was neither, and it turned out to be just a holiday park.
We back track through the deserted end of the sea front, and give Inn on the Beach a wide berth as I know it'll be too windy. Pulling into the car park of the Ferry Inn I'm relieved to note the outside seating area is protected by glass screens.
We settle on a table with views up towards Milberry Harbour and out to the English Channel, watching on as the ferry goes about its business and Gin Palaces bob on by.
The idea of having a spot of lunch here is eschewed, partly because the menu was a bit ponsy but mostly because of the feral sea gulls!
Hayling Island didn't really offer anything we'd want to come back to, or stay any longer for that matter, so we head north and cross the bridge back onto the mainland.
The lovely looking Ship Inn catches our eye, with tables on the quayside looking onto Sweare Deep.
The tuna sandwiches hit the spot, and it was a superb setting for our late lunch, even if the ambience was spoiled slightly by the big outdoor screen set up for showing The World Cup.
A takeaway Chinese from China Garden in Rose Green and a late evening walk around the totally void of water Pagham Harbour finished off the day nicely.
Wednesday 17 June
Looks like we had a drop of rain overnight, and it's cloudy when we wake up. The weather seems to be a lot easier to forecast around here. I've never been anywhere in the UK before where the Met Office has been so accurate with their work of fiction.
Never mind, we've plans for today that are not weather dependant, and it's due to brighten up this afternoon anyway.
Google lies. Under 1 1/4 hours they said and 48 miles. Trude's satnav said over 1 1/2 hours and 51 miles. Guess which one was right!
I feel a bit guilty, and foolish for not looking at an actual map. If I had done I'd have known how close we were going to be to @legsdown neck of the woods, and would have arranged a meet up.
Departure isn't until 2.15 pm so we're pulling into Sheffield Park Station of The Blue Bell Railway in plenty of time for Grumbles to have an explore of the station shops and museum.
Herself was panicking about getting onto the train. She is really suffering with her knackered knees, and big steps are a no no. I went to speak to a platform attendant about ambulant disabled access. He caught me unawares to be honest, as we're 240 miles away from home.
"Scarlets jersey?"
"Err."
He tried his very best to pronounce Llanelli.
"Yes" I say with a puzzled look on my face.
"My wife is from Pont-iets."
We then have a conversation about his wife's background, his nephews who are Scarlets fans and the Indian Restaurant they always go to when visiting family in God's own country.
We're being hauled today by Camelot, built in 1951. It appears the beast is somewhat famous in anorak circles, holding the speed record for locomotives in its class at 107 mph.
We're not long out of the station and the clippy comes round to punch our tickets. He talks us through the journey and "warns" us that the 731 yard long Sharpthorne Tunnel is the longest tunnel on any UK heritage railway and is also rumored to be haunted.
I have a feeling the haunted bit is bullshit. Gwawr has sense for these things and can see stuff that we don't, and she was unphased while we were underground.
Grumbles got out at East Grinstead to watch the run-around before we enjoy the same scenery along the 11 mile track on the return journey.
It was a long drive back to Pagham in the rush hour traffic, skirting Brighton and Worthing were particularly tortuous, and getting close to site the car park of The Walnut Tree Bar & Restaurant was a particularly welcome site.
It was very busy and we were extremely lucky to get a table. Service was quick and the food was excellent. Our regular evening walk along the side of the waterless Pagham Harbour finished off the day.
Thursday 18 June
I'm sleeping well, once again Herself is pinching my toes sticking out under the duvet to wake me as breakfast is just about ready. By the time I wipe the sleep from my eyes and have a pee Grumbles is sat at the table attacking his like a savage!
The plan for today will mean a lot of on lead time for the dogs, so I take them for a walk skirting the still empty harbour, arranging to meet Herself and Grumbles near reception. When me and the dogs arrive Trude is parked up and empty, and Herself is busying herself looking at the statics for sale. I'm beckoned over to say things like "Oooh this is nice" and "Isn't this good value."
To be fair, the 2nd hand (or preloved in you're a snowflake who can't admit you're not rich enough to buy brand new) vans were in very good condition, and at £29k and £37k represented what seemed like a good deal. I was reminded that we paid somewhere between those two figures for our tourer.
Heading into Chichester we're winding through the side streets following the Cathedral spire in the skyline. I ignore Herself's directions to signed car parks in the hope of finding something a bit closer.
Bingo! I round the corner onto Woolstaplers and spot a blue P. Down the ramp we rolled and bagged a space in the underground car park. Payment required was only £3 for 3 hours, but we couldn't get the app to work underground.
Climbing the steps to street level and a better signal we have no more luck so I step into the adjacent Travelodge to ask for help. The very friendly Manageress comes out and I explain my predicament.
"Tell you what" she said, "If you promise to write me a good review on Tripadvisor, saying how helpful I was, I'll book you and your car into the system as 24 hr guests". "How does that sound?"
"Sounds good to me, thank you very much."
"Winner winner!"
I go outside and try to explain to Herself that I'd turned on my charm, and sorted it.
"Bollocks, you haven't got any charm! I don't believe you."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence!" as I walk passed the entrance giving a little wave to my new friend.
With a dig in the back we exit Chapel Street onto West Street and the splendour of the Cathedral comes into full view, that is once we'd cleared the tables of alcoholics sucking on beer mats outside 'Spoons.
We round the corner to the main entrance, guarded by Saint Richard. I'd checked online before leaving the van to see if dogs were allowed. They were, but Herself didn't believe me, and I'm instructed to go inside to check. They still are!
Entrance to the Cathedral is free, but there is a "suggested" donation of £7 per person. Rather conveniently the foyer is guarded by two old biddies, each with a touch screen and payment pad. Our dues paid we head on inside, and the magnificence of the place immediately strikes me.
We turn right onto the South Aisle to look at the baptising font and a chapel dedicated to those fallen in the World Wars.
I'm not a practicing Christian by any stretch of the imagination, but always feel inspired when I visit a church, especially when they serve beer!
Back on site the chairs get dragged down out of the roofbox for a few hours relaxation in the sun before a tea of salmon, Jersey pots and green beans.
The plan was to take a walk up to The Marsh & Barrel for a few drinks, but to be brutally honest a sever case of CBA occurred and finishing off my stash of Corona bottles in the van became far more appealing.
Friday 19 June
Our @Derektheweather is forecasting good things for today, and when I wake it's blue skies and sunshine, and Grumbles sat up front waiting to be fed and watered.
I offer a Weetabix and get a grunt which I interoperate to mean "Oh, yes please, that would be nice.", so make up two bowls placing them on the kitchen island counter. His stayed there until Herself got up some 20 mins later and passed it to him.
No plans to move far today and after breakfast the chairs get dragged out of Trude and we settle down for a morning of relaxation, popping in and out of the van for drinks and ice lollies.
Early afternoon we decide to take a walk along the side of the harbour to the beach area, plonking ourselves on the edge of a decked walkway. Clicky Here.
I take the dogs down to the water, there's not much left in the channel behind the spit, but even at low tide I estimate about 3 ft deep. I dip my toes and the water is tepid and the temptation was too much. I scramble up the shingle, sgtrip to my pants and join Gwen for a refreshing dip.
Getting back out wasn't pretty, and I feel fortunate not to get either harpooned or clubbed to death! Herself and I perch on the edge of the walkaway soaking up the sun with a warm breeze. For a brief moment, if we ignored the shingle we could have been back at La Lagons in Fuertaventura!
Grumbles wanders off to rediscover how they built the harbour and comes back to inform me how they built the harbour walls, exactly the same process I'd described in detail to him night before last. He also describes to Herself that the tide appears to be coming in from 2 directions, something Herself had told him just 5 mins ago!
You know that scene from Only Fools when they're in the pub and Trigger is about 5 mins behind everyone else ad Del Boy touches Rondney's arm and says "Let's go!"
We make our way back, and see the harbour with some water in it for the first time this week. Not much but some water.
The chairs get dragged back out for a few hours relaxation, before it's time for a freshen up. Herself had gone inside for her shower and I start packing away the chairs to load in the roofbox.
"Are the chairs being put away?"
"Yes, it's time to freshen up to go out."
"OK" he utters as he scoots straight up the steps into the van.
"I'll fold all the chairs, put them in their bags and up in the roof then shall I?"
Time to go out, only as far as The Marsh and Barrel, and Grumbles heads straight for Trude pulling on the door handle. Herself says "We're walking so Himself can have a few pints."
His face dropped, and he started pouting big style. The sullen face remained all the way up there, all through food and all the way back. He'd walked far too far this afternoon on his exploring and was feeling it more than he would admit. Considering he's now 86 he's done remarkably well this week, but will probably sleep 2 days solid when he gets home!
Saturday 20 June
Up and atem this morning as it's going home day. We're packed, loaded up, and with the van cleaned hitting the road by 8.30am. It would have been earlier as our checking out instructions were to drop the key in the box by reception. Reception not yet opened yet I go to look for the box that was by the gate yesterday. It wasn't there and Herself is doubting me. Back we go to reception and Herself can't find the key box either. There is a letterbox down at floor level though.
What king of psychopath put's a letter box and ground level? I'm groaning my way down to throw the key through, trying desperately not to follow through myself, when a body appears the other side of the glass. He unlocks and takes our key off us.
"Where's the box by the barrier, it was there yesterday wasn't it?" I ask specifically because Herself is doubting me as she didn't see it herself.
"Oh, we only put it out on Friday as that's a big changeover day."
"What about the box by reception that's referred to on our instructions?"
"What box?"
Simple straight run through to home with no holdups to speak of, and with just a pee stop at Leigh Delamare we're dropping Grumbles off at 12.15 pm ready to unload and get the washing done ready for tomorrow.
