To be in England in the Summertime...

Since Devon, life's been good if not all that exciting... just attending to everyday stuff and of course having to go to work (EEK!) so the Airstream has been little more than my sanctuary in the evenings.

Best then go back to the trip home from Scotland at the end of June.

My friend Gary has always been on at me to visit his home county of Northumberland, so I did just that. Gary rocked up in his classic CI Sprite.

We stayed at a very nice CCC site, the name of which now escapes me. Friendly staff. And only about £7 a night for a single person without a mains hook-up, so a bargain to boot.

Gary suggested a few days out, and it was the Garden at Alnwick that particularly tickled my fancy. Like all good gardens, it's a work in progress and far from finished. But it's actually quite refreshing that the Duchess of Northumberland has 'vision' for the future, as opposed to the current trend of the 'Instant Garden'.

A lovely day was had.


















The next day we went up the coast to Bamburgh. We took lunch in the garden of a lovely little tea-room, and a coach party of 'game' pensioners arrived. As we listened to the wit and wisdom of the old dears, Gary and I were in fits of laughter. We weren't laughing AT the people, we were laughing with them. Quote: 'What? They come and take the order at the table? Ooh, you don't get that in Rugby!' and so on. It was like a real life version of a Victoria Wood sketch and after an hour we were almost crying. It was so lovely, so English, and the subtle but hilarious humour that only a true Brit would understand.

We had a pleasant, sun-scorched afternoon:











However, after a couple of nights it was time to head South and start work.

As I headed down the A1 back to reality, there was time to pull over for just one last photo with the Airstream, to 'sign off' an amazing few weeks.

Devon Sent

Apologies for the long pause. Too much Airstreaming fun, not enough time to blog it…

The journey back from the Hebrides was sweetened by a couple of days at the lovely CCC site in Sandringham. Not only did this provide a great opportunity to collect some pine cones for the woodgas stove (they make great firelighters when dried out!) but the wind blew a hooley that weekend providing some fabulous kitesurfing sessions in Hunstanton. Sunday's session was cruelly cut short by the '12 o'clock rule' despite the 100-odd empty pitches, but I'm not bitter and I think that's important.

After a few days at home worshipping my washing machine it was time to head off for the next holiday. Sorry, that should read 'assignment'. I would hate anybody to think that I have fun for a living.






I was excited to be heading for North Devon as it's a county I do not know at all. Destinations were three sites grouped around Ilfracombe and Woolacombe. Trying to make efficient use of my time, I also trialled a couple of cars at this time, and down fell my plan.

It is a known issue that the electronics in some swanky cars have 'bulb failure' systems so that when plugged in to a trailer, the car sends pulses of electricity around the trailer to keep checking the status of the lights. The trouble is, when the trailer lights are cool LEDs, the car doesn't detect them and sends the whole trailer into a mobile version of the Caribbean Disco Show. Brand spanking new cars like the Land Rover Disco 4 have software upgrades to prevent this, but older technology as we discovered in the Volvo XC60 and a three year old VW Taureg do the disco-lights thing. Thankfully, European Airstreams may be specified with 'normal' road lights in case this happens, but I like the LEDs. And so does my Nissan Navara.

With no known software fix to the car, there was nothing else for it but to strap a trailer board to the back of my Airstream. It didn't look pretty, but we were legal.

First site was Damage Barton Caravan Club Affiliated Site. This is a great site. Very Airstream-friendly with spacious pitches, each offering a panoramic sea view:




It takes about 30 minutes to walk to the beach from the site. Naturally, it's very popular with families and it's the kind of place where you discover caravanners who have been returning there every summer for over 30 years. I really really liked the site's feeling of space, the views, and the friendly staff, but be aware that the payback for those views is the exposed location.



For a more sheltered experience, the all-singing all-dancing Caravan Club Site at Willingcott is down the road:





It was at Willingcott I had a welcome that I will never forget. The warden's welcoming smile wasn't just bright. If she went outside on a rainy day and smiled she would bathe the entire site in sunshine.


With all the great beaches in the area, ideal for surfing or bodyboarding, the sight of wetsuits hanging up to dry outside caravans is quite common:





Next stop was the chilled, relaxed, facility-free Caravan Club Site at Brook Lea:





Really nice. I particularly like the way that at this site, the neat and tidy pitches comfortably roll into the more natural landscape.





Naturally, being so close to the beach meant that I had to go and partake of a little bit of kitesurfing. Woolacombe beach is very neat but there's not lot to the area itself. I much preferred the large, extensive beach at Saunton:





All that space on offer meant that there was a reserved area for kitesurfers away from the paddling families and surfers, meaning that everyone could enjoy the water. I LOVED jumping the Atlantic swell and riding the waves. It was fantastic.

It was so good that I got up at 6am, yes, 0600 in the morning on a Sunday, to go and make the most of it before the wind dropped.



Nearby is the charming little town of Ilfracombe. Despite a few negative comments I had previously heard, I really really liked Ilfracombe. It's a fairly unspoiled Victorian seaside town with a scenic little harbour:





Interestingly, there is very little beach there as there are hills and rocks in the way, so a hundred years ago tunnels were dug through and pools created for the Victorian bathers. 'Tunnels Beaches' is an interesting place, and under the English summer sun took on the air of an Italian lido. Lovely!





A little less lovely was the neighbouring Cafe Blue. It was one of those cafe bars with stylish decor and a decent coffee machine that looks really nice - and it is - but at 2pm most of the menu was 'off' and I was left sitting over 30 minutes for a cheese sandwich when it wasn't that busy. The manager spent most of his time looking trendy on his Mac rather than sorting out the fiasco in the kitchen and the staff were unapologetic. Definitely one to miss.


But of course, being in Devon means that a cream tea is an absolute must. Opportunities present themselves on every corner to indulge, but a stone's throw from the harbour is where the locals and the fishermen go. Adeles Cafe (www.adelescafeilfracombe.co.uk) is well worth sniffing out for the fabulous service and the wonderful home-made cakes:







All in all a great time was had, and I wish I could have stayed longer and enjoyed the area in a bit more detail.

Bit it was time to roll and head to Baltic Wharf CC Site in Bristol. This year the site has had a change of wardens, and the new couple Mick and Lynn are absolutely lovely. Baltic Wharf is fabulous - great little site in a great location, and the flower display that Mick and Lynn have done is stunning… a kind of Bristolian version of the hanging gardens of Babylon.




I was there to do a 'pre-launch' job, so the caravan has been blacked out to honour embargoes.


From there it was time to head back home for a few days, and once again become at one with the washing machine.

Laundry done, we're back on the road for another six weeks. Aye, Life is Good!

Do I blog it?

I've just enjoyed a three-week, non-commissioned HOLIDAY.

But the question remains, do I blog about it?

Rather than go into the tenuous detail, it's probably best to watch the video (bandwidth permitting) which you may see here:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vIJmWAyol0



Very deliberately, the beauty spots that I discovered in the vid are not named.

So why the reticence to blog?

Things were very different this year to last.

The attraction of this magical corner of the country is its isolation and wild, laid-back feel. Before, it was possible to camp near much anywhere as long as the country code and common sense were employed.

The trouble is, too many people have got wind of it. One or two camper vans and a little caravan anyone can overlook for a couple of nights. But lots and lots of overcab motorhomes, tents, and sometimes caravans would turn up, plonk themselves in a beauty spot, and stay put on a 'free' holiday for weeks at a time. Some of the campers didn't care. There was evidence of fires being lit on the ground in some places, and at two wild camping spots I spent the first half hour with a plastic sack cleaning up rubbish. If I didn't do it, the locals would see it, and another area would ban wild camping.

And so it is that in two areas, wild camping has now been as good as banned. Caravans and motorhomes have to pay £10 per night to stay on a croft with running cold water and no other facilities. On one island you must drive your loo waste a few miles to be rid of it. On another island, your stay is limited by your loo capacity because all chemical toilet waste must be removed from the island.

Basically, the magic is going. I still had the most amazing time, but the days of wild camping in Scotland are numbered.

When I returned to the mainland, I stumbled upon what I believe to be the cause.

There is a forum-style website dedicated to camping in the UK for free. On it, people share information about wild camping spots. And here I think lies the problem.

Put anything on the internet, and you have no control over who sees it and who acts upon it. It's a lot different to meeting a nice couple on your travels who lead a respectable life and use a respectable outfit, and then sharing any information with them on a personal basis.

Numpties have been publicising the wild camping spots to everyone. Absolutely everyone. Including the irresponsible.

As these places get saturated with blaggers and freebie-searchers (as opposed to those who wish to camp freely and responsibly and spend the money they save in the local economy), wild camping gets banned.

I can see that as wild camping becomes banned in more places, the 'takers' will spread like a fungus to the places where it is still allowed, where their numbers and behaviour will lead to further bans until there is nowhere left to go other than a croft or a site.

The internet is a wonderful tool if used correctly. It is also highly destructive if used without care. I can see that the wild camping forum will kill the golden goose for all of us.

It's very sad. Enjoy camping freedom while it lasts. It may not last much longer thanks to the well-meaning folk who have not thought through the consequences of their good intentions.

A lesson learned

When I was about 19, I ran my first caravan rally, for the Thomson Owners Club. Most rallies were around the Midlands which was always a schlep for me, so I ran my own rally in Kent over the Whitsun week to make people's journeys worthwhile. Loads of people said they would come, so I counted on about 12-15 vans.

After a raft of non-bookings and cancellations, I think we ended up with about 5 vans. I was so disappointed, but mainly because people had indicated that they were coming, even when they had no intention of doing so.

And so it was that I committed to a rally with a 'new' (to me) club in May, and duly booked my place. My first rally! How exciting.

But then the Airstream Gathering came along on exactly the same weekend. Dash and blast it! Mindful of the fact that I would not cancel my outstanding commitment despite a better offer coming along, off I toddled to my booked rally. I was a bit nervous to be honest.

I was booked on the rally field, but had received no pre-arrival letter or email telling me where to go, so I went to the site office. There, the warden was confused too. Half of the 'ralliers' were on site, and half were on the 'rally field', which turned out to be a car park as the rally field had been double-booked with a music festival.

There was no meet & greet from the organiser, no central meeting point, no nothing. So I booked myself in on the site and went off to find a pitch. Thankfully I had a friend already on site.

As I drove around looking for a pitch, there were lots of little groups of ralliers all pointing and staring, but none actually saying Hello. My friend R helped me to pitch, and two guys flew over and spoke to him, not me, saying how I should pitch my trailer. Eventually I introduced myself because I could bear it no longer. One guy gave his name in return, but the other just said 'hello', followed by a long period of silence.

Chatty guy then realises who I am, and rather than make me feel welcome on my first rally decides to have a pop that my life is '…one long holiday'.

Timing here was pretty poor. I had just finished a week of getting up early, doing a car and caravan test, driving to Stafford more times than I would care to remember, and having to share a car with a driver with limited social skills and BO that could kill flies within a 10 metre radius. So I wasn't really in the mood to be told that I don't actually work for a living.

The evening's social was held inside under fluorescent lights as established groups sat around tables. Myself and R just stood there. The hosts at last introduced themselves, telling me off because I hadn't parked on the rally field as arranged. I retorted about the lack of pre-arrival info. To which I was snorted at that I should have seen the signs. This is of course on top of towing an Airstream in a busy town, obeying the road signs, watching the traffic, checking the SatNav, and following directions in the Sites Directory.

Later, a past chairman is sent over to talk AT me for an hour about how hard it is for the club to get publicity in magazines.

Next morning, I fled. Yes, there were some nice people there. But I knew what I was missing with the Airstreamers.

Pre-arrival info, hugs on arrival, a completely chilled ambience, lovely people who didn't talk about my job, and the evening social was a shared barbecue and sitting outside around the blazing fire pit chatting until 2am.













What a difference.

High Onn Life!

After a few days at home in May doing admin, it was time to set off for the summer. First port of call was High Onn Caravan Club Site in Staffordshire to do a caravan review. By design, Airstreaming friends John and Carole were on site.

Wine-fuelled evenings followed, and John was highly impressed with my new wood gas stove.

Carole had even got wind of my cream tea weakness and laid on fantastic home-made scones.

It was so lovely indeed to have friends next door to enjoy the down time at the end of a working day.

Woodgas Stove

Mindful of the fact that I had run out of LPG in the Hebrides last year, I took delivery of a wood gas stove upon the recommendation of my dear friend and neighbour Mike.

It is ABSOLUTELY BRILLIANT!

Mike also made me a froe and a mallet, and I bought a bowsaw, so I can chop up wood to use as fuel. It also uses things like pine cones, twigs, grass etc. In the Hebrides I may even try it on peat.





It works by a little fan in the underside that circulates the air and makes the most of the gas that the wood gives off, making for a very hot and smoke-free fire.





I got the XL model which is best for Airstreamers. Beats a gas barbie any day!

Purbeck Dreams

Since the last entry, so much Airstreaming has been done there just hasn't been the time to sit and write about it!

So let's try and catch up by heading back to Dorset, at the beginning of May. A lovely week was spent on the Isle of Purbeck, which isn't really an island at all.

My favourite site in the area was the Caravan Club affiliated site at Smedmore House, which resembles a large CL. Great views, and great walks down to the beach.





On my way to the beach, I stopped and acquainted myself with my new neighbours:





Nearby is the 'Lost Village' of Tyneham. Evacuated in 1943, the residents were promised by the British Government that they would return when hostilities ceased. The Government broke their promise. The villagers have never been allowed to go back.




From my second site, another Club Site, I took the Swanage Railway and was hauled behind the steam locomotive 'Manston'. A lovely nostalgic trip:





Destination of the day was Corfe Castle itself. Highlight of the day was the cream tea taken in the NT's very own sunny tea room garden, enjoying uninterrupted views of the castle:






Later in the day, I headed off to meet a friend for dinner in Poole. Rather than drive direct I went to see Studland Bay at sunset, and take the chain ferry over to Sandbanks. A bit expensive for a 3 minute ride, but it certainly added to the sense of travel and occasion.




All in all, a lovely break indeed.