February 8, 2012
THE first night
we spent in the van was Tuesday, January 31. I remember it seemed a really significant
occasion.
We set off as
soon as we could after I finished work and I was quickly struck, as we headed
down the A303 to Taunton, by how being in the front passenger seat of a Hymer,
with the huge windows that give it such fantastic visibility, was like riding a
roller-coaster.
Every time we
went down one of the lengthy hills on the westward route, it was like pitching
over the edge on one of those scary rides, with nothing between me and the
fate lurking below but a sheet of glass. I felt stressed out, constantly pleading:
“Slow down!”
It was dark, and
after closing time when we arrived at Cornish Farm, the site adjacent to
Vanbitz, where our alarm was to be fitted next day. But there was a notice
directing us to our pitch, and once we hooked up to the electricity supply,
with the lights and the shiny new red kettle on, I cheered up.
The facilities
on-site were immaculate (although it was rather spooky to hear a Radio 2 DJ
chirping away through loudspeakers to the otherwise empty washrooms whenever
one opened the door).
The van felt cosy and safe once we’d drawn the blinds – though
not for the dog, who squeaked in protest as he was stung by a sleepy wasp we
must have dislodged from their folds.
We’d cheated, and
cooked a Thai curry before we set out, so heated this up and ate it. It’s a
sign of how exhausted I was that when my husband, draining the rice, complained
that the colander leaked, I fell for it!
A couple of
glasses of wine later, and with the gas heating proving effective, we were
feeling very relaxed. From my point of view there was only one drawback. “Bonus,” said my husband as he switched on the radio to find live commentary on the Spurs match. “Who could ask for more?”
The dog soon
settled happily on his bed (no.3, in case you're counting) and our own drop-down mattress proved amazingly comfortable.
Next morning we
were given a lift in to town to while away the day. We’d been seduced, while
waiting for the ride, into buying a TV, and that was to be fitted as well.
One of these, a
lovely assistant at Crew, directed us to The Scrumper, a café where we could
sit outside with Glen in relative shelter and even catch a few rays of wintry
sun. We had brunch there and were so pleased by it that we returned for a late
lunch.
The town has a
truly fascinating museum, its only drawback being that we were only allowed to
look round it one at a time, while the other sat outside with the dog – though
if you asked me what kind of hazard a border collie posed to relics safely
ensconced behind plate glass I’d have to say I’m not sure.
Shopping proved
productive and we returned to a demonstration of the full
bells-and-whistles alarm system at such volume that the dog had to be removed
to a safe distance to shield his delicate ears. We arrived home
quite worn out, but comprehensively equipped for whatever Europe
could throw at us …..?
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