This will be my last night before heading home. It has been a good trip; I've driven over 1,000 miles and showered in cubicles of every level of icy temperature. Met campsite wardens who have been really friendly, and have gone out of their way to help, (most of them) and some who ought to be blacklisted! The scenery has been worth the long journeys, and I can already feel the sense of satisfaction I'll experience when I look at the map of the British Isles on the back of the sitting room door, and can say 'I've been there, I know what it looks like'.
Meeting other travellers on campsites, ferries and buses, has made the journey far from solo, and I've had conversations with a few feisty women vanners, some towing vast caravans.
Mention of caravans reminds me of my new hobby; I've started to collect 'van and motor-van names. Not the pet ones owners bestow, but the labels stuck on them by the manufacturers. Now, big or small, most caravans look the same, they are white, metal/fibreglass bodies with a few windows and a door. There may be some differences in aero-dynamics, but that's about it. This must be why there is a need to use enticing names, promising adventure and excitement. One can understand names such as Wanderer, Trooper and Explorer and even the more daring Buccaneer, Challenger and Odyssey; but Unicorn, Apache, Pegasus and Quasar? And then there is Carnival, Zenith and Polar. And I wonder if you have to take a personality test before you take possession of a caravan called Charisma?!
More later...
Later... Home at last. The journey from Knaresborough to Worcester went without incident, and I unloaded Flossy, ready for essential repairs. The sitting room floor is now covered in camping items, with a small path leading to the window and television.
If you have been, thanks for following the blog.
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