Tales of a Caravanner and Part-Time Bookseller, or "How Did I End Up in North Devon?"
It all started when my better half announced "I have always wanted a motorhome". This came out of the blue, after over 20 years together, with not a mention of this heartfelt desire - no "now that we are retired.", no "how do you feel about.", just came straight out with it.
Knowing better, through bitter experience, than to question this pronouncement, it was followed by trips to an assortment of venues to inspect dealers' stock of acceptable vehicles. Now I admit some were magnificent, all mod cons and resplendent in manufacturers logos etc. but when common sense returned in small measure and we inspected the grotty ones out the back that we might have a chance of affording, opinions began to differ!
What followed were perusals of the classified advertisements and more trips to discover that what the private seller described as 'immaculate' might be a slight case of exaggeration, if not down right abuse of the trades description act.
Where to go from here you ask? No problem. Ebay, ever the last resort of the impoverished, led to trips all over the country until we found an acceptable Autotrail Tracker in Devon with low mileage. "If we can get that for £15k" she exclaimed, "we will have it". Being ever the misery I realised that the list value of the vehicle was about £22k, and held out little hope, but at 23.00 on a Sunday evening I was hunched over the PC in the dying seconds of the auction waiting to "snipe" at the very last second and was amazed to win the auction for £15,100!
Several years followed of trouble free trips all over the UK and a few visits to the continent, until it was time for another out of the blue statement of "I have always liked the idea of a caravan". Again this was news to me, but it resulted in the Autotrail being sold to a local dealer for over £2,000 more than was paid for it, and the purchase of a new Swift Challenger caravan, accompanied by a suitable tow vehicle, in this case a Volvo C70 convertible, as with all the good will in the world our then current Ford Ka was not up to the job. So, a caravan club course on how to tow was booked, which seemed to help everyone else on the course, but confused me no end - why when you reverse one way does the caravan have to go the opposite direction - just being awkward is my firm belief!
More UK trips followed, with our pampered cat being looked after by accommodating neighbours, until the next pronouncement "Why don't we take the cat?" came at me after supper one night like a shot from a gun. This was tried a few times and, needless to say, did not seem to appeal to the said moggy at all! She was happy enough in the caravan but not the travelling, so it was decided to base the caravan on a specific site, and have longer holidays with the cat, thereby limiting the trauma of the car journey.
A trip to purchase an awning resulted, would you believe, in exchanging the caravan for a larger one - with more room for the cat. "We can put the litter in the shower tray, and she will be able to see out of the window". You are by now getting the idea where I fit into this scenario, yes you've got it - after the cat - well after!
A site has been selected at Damage Barton in North Devon, betwixt Ilfracombe and Woolacombe, with beautiful views out over the sea, close to the Tarka Trail.
First trip there with the cat went well, apart from the better half's idea of a cat harness to "let her out for some fresh air" which lasted about 10 seconds. Fat and lazy our cat might be, but one squeal and a wiggle and she was free! Happily she ran back into the caravan and went to sleep.
So next week we begin a six-eight week spell, with me travelling back early on Saturdays, and returning after work on Sunday evenings for my sessions at Stella Books. Wish me luck!
Contributed by Martyn.
(Published on 30th Oct 2014 )
