Holiday and Travel Articles
posted on 7 February 2012
I once took a caravan holiday with a close friend to celebrate his 18th birthday. The plan was ever so simple. Hook up my tiny 2 berth caravan to my old Land Rover at at an optimistic forty miles per hour travel 100 miles south to meet his parents in their caravan they'd bought at a recent fair that had many caravans for sale. Nothing could be simpler, or so I thought. Trouble began when my friend had a college leavers party on the night of the trip. He asked if we could make arrangements to leave after he had popped into his party. Agreeing I promptly phoned the caravan site and explained we may arrive at little late. We were instructed to just pull up to a pitch and check in first thing the next day. At around 11pm I collect my friend from his party and we start to head to the farm where my caravan is stored. He remarked we would be passing his girlfriends house on the way and could we stop in for him to say goodbye, and remembering it was his birthday I kindly oblige. Now the next hour is somewhat of a blur but I eventually realised being pinned down by two lasses and being given a facial scrub was not a bad thing but wasn't getting me any closer to our destination. Dragging my friend away from the clutches of his girlfriend and her friends was upsetting to both but we soon realised we were setting off on an adventure. As the temperature dropped to freezing we arrived at the farm and Ian began to hitch up the caravan whilst I found a corner to empty my bladder on. Stood next to the barn planning my route, urinating happily into a small drain I am startled by a man walking round the corner asking what we were doing. It was well past midnight so the farmer had every right to query these visitors to his farm, but sadly in doing so I had been startled so much I had lost control of my aim and his boots now had my still warm urine running down them. Apologising we pull away and begin the long, cold and uneventful trip south. After several agonising three point turns with the Land Rover famous heavy steering and the caravan on the back we find the site and our pitch. We plug in the power lead to get some heat - our caravan only having electric heating and light, flick the switch and nothing. Ian had forgotten to pick up his bedding from his parents caravan due to our late departure so we were looking at a cold night shivering in the dark. Not being able to sleep, and too proud to huddle together for warmth we decide to make some soup on the gas stove. With no light we burnt matches to keep an eye on our food, and dropped more than one into the soup when they got to hot to handle. The next morning we emerged on to an amazing dew covered field, quickly saw the electric switch we had missed the night before and with heat and light now filling our caravan reflected on our trip. Certainly not the best trip in a caravan but a memory I treasure to this day. |
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