Cracking Council

 

He’s smiling, in fact they both are - the men from the council. I suppose a rainy day will find the van lifers in, not out wandering around, so a good time to call, but my heart is pounding. I’ve had plenty of practice at sounding confident when I’m not, so with a cheery hello, I’m hoping they won’t tell us off. In fact, they were great, reminding us we are on council land, and can’t stay longer than a week. We get an official notice to say we must leave in seven days time, but we’re welcome until then. Phew! We reassure them we will leave no trace and be gone by then, we’ve a ferry booked! And off they go. Ian is always so calm in situations like this, I’m a mess inside as I’m a rubbish rebel, but it’s fine, we can stay, the council man says so.

As the weather clears we explore more, finding the free public footpath directly beside the paid entrance footpath, we get another great view of the Henge (although probably not as good as the one we had with our morning coffee) and then head over the road to the barrows in the field opposite. It always amazes me how people just follow the main path, walk as short a distance as possible and don’t explore, it’s just one field over, maybe 15 mins in total to get there, have a look and walk back, but very few venture across the road. The area surrounding Stonehenge is maintained and owned by The National Trust, and is all free to explore, but to visit the stones officially, to get to walk round, but not touch them you need to pay English Heritage. I find that odd, it isn’t a comment on the charities, just the absurdity that one manages the landscape for miles, the other gets the income of the attraction that brings people in.

Having stayed a few days, the loo issue arises again. Only this time it’s where to empty it, we haven’t used harmful chemicals, but you can’t just empty it anywhere. We take a trip, pop the cassette into a big blue bag and it’s my job to confidently walk to the disposal point, empty it responsibly, and return the cassette to the van. It’s done, but it feels furtive. We can stay a few more days. We had no intention of staying more than a night or two, but there is a special feeling about Stonehenge. You can feel its soul, space, and serenity. The A303 may be close, but it's a million miles away to us.

If you haven’t ‘met’ Agy you may be interested to know a bit about her. She a Burstner, on a Fiat Ducatto base, about 6M long and we love her, she’s perfect for us. We have a fixed bed at the back above the garage storage space, a shower, loo, fridge, 2-burner hob and a sofa. Her cab chairs spin round to give us a 4-seater dining area and she’s tall enough to comfortably stand up in, she has heating and hot and cold water available, so an all year round van. Generally we manage to dance around each other in her quite well, but we do occasionally get a few bruises! 

To get into bed we have a little step as the bed is quite high, in fact very high, waist height (possibly more) for me.

Last night I hopped up into bed (it isn’t as elegant as it sounds) and Ian followed. As he stepped onto the step there was a quiet, but definite CRACK.. the step had broken, but that’s OK, we’re both in bed and we can seek out a new one in the morning. It will be fine! That is until I need a wee....

Henge and Bracket

We’re wild, really wild. On a gravel track, with no services, just Stonehenge, sheep and cows (and a few other vans) for company. The tourists have gone home and we’ve got the place to ourselves. It’s BLISS!!. So very quiet, we’re entertained by the sheep who are munching loudly next to us – I had no idea they were such noisy eaters!

It’s bliss, absolute bliss… except. We are going to have to get over the loo issue. We’ve wee'd in the van before, of course we have, but more than that – no. There’s always been a public loo, but not this time. It’s us, and the van loo. It’s a proper toilet, none of this composting lark, a seat, a flush, even a fan, but it isn’t the same as the bathroom at home. It has to be done. We braced and achieved!! No idea what the fuss was… it was absolutely fine, my ShePee (from SheWee) came into it’s own (we pee a LOT, so the loo cassette lasts longer if you don’t wee in it too much) and the sun shone so our solar panels keep us topped up with electricity. The fridge and phones etc. all work fine. OK, so not that wild and not camping, but it is off grid. Somehow the days pass with walks, reading, cooking, the odd sweep out of grass that’s found it’s way in, but mainly just reading and daydreaming, with a bit of cooking in our Omnia stovetop oven. Something I haven’t done for decades.

And then the wind picks up, the rain lashes down and there I am, at who knows what time (it’s dark and I am on the ‘no exit’ side of the bed) Agy is rocking the wind is howling and I am sure we are going to blow over. The rain is deafening on the metal roof and I’m terrified. Ian, he’s fast asleep, snoring away happy as Larry, not a care in the world! By 6.30 am I have convinced myself we won’t blow over. Agy is a sturdy van and the wind is end on, by far the best way to be in a storm, but I’m exhausted. The met office cheerfully warns of another 3 days of this Yellow Alert storm, so earplugs it is from now on. The wind made it to 40 miles an hour, not that great for the best night’s sleep on a windy plane, but hey, we’re warm, safe and dry and the earplugs do their trick. 8 hrs sleep! Honestly 8 hours… when I was working I was lucky if I got 6, 5 wasn’t unusual and 4 wasn’t unheard of, so 8 hours in a storm with a name is amazing.

By day 3 with very little sun and plenty of rain our battery is running low, so it's time to get the generator out. It’s dry as Ian braves it to the back doors, out she comes, and before it’s chained to the wheel and going, it’s pelting down again… Ian isn’t a lover of being out in the rain, but hey ho! Needs must. It’s a very quiet generator and a few feet away you can’t hear it – particularly with the wind, but the sheep obviously can. They are mesmerised by it, just staring at us, stationary. I’ve never seen anything like it, it’s as if they are hypnotised!

I confess I was a bit nervous about getting it out, I’ve read about how antisocial they are on forums, people saying they should be banned, so I’m apprehensive, but nobody seems to mind. Just as I start to relax there’s a knock on the door. It’s the local council! Not quite what I was expecting…

Family and friends...

  

Dad looks amazing, so well! It’s odd not being able to hug and kiss hello, but we aren’t risking it. We’re tired (Ian more than me as he drove all the way) so having dropped off the musical instruments we didn’t want to put into storage, and some spare Calor gas canisters, we head to our park-up. We’ve always stayed on campsites or on friends’ and family drives before, but today, in the spirit of our new adventurous life, we are staying….. in a pub car park! What more could you ask for? A flat car park, a pub with good food, beer, and a canal to walk along in the evening. So The Pilot Inn, Hardwick, Gloucester becomes our first of many ‘houseless not homeless’ stops thanks to the Search for Sites app.

I’m always amazed how well we both sleep in Agy, we both sleep terribly usually, but in Agy, we’re so relaxed and comfy we sleep better than normal, despite being in a pub car park, on a slope, or wherever we might be.

It's great being able to catch up with family and friends, we both grew up here so lots of happy memories, people and places to go. Social media may have lots of issues, but without it, I certainly wouldn’t have reconnected with so many people who are very important in my life. Ian was able to see his best friend, and we could have dinner with friends who many moons ago we were venture scouts with., To be honest they are so much more than that… I spend most of my summer holidays camping with my friend and her family when I was senior school age. 

I remember camping at a pig farm in Hull, having to use the CB radio to find her dad driving in the Land Rover we were supposed to be following, in her mum's car only15 minutes into a 5 hour journey.Nan’s corset lace being unceremoniously removed in the car, to tie the exhaust on mid journey. Extending our stay by a week as the cat/tortoise/dog/rabbit has gone walkabout (OK, it was generally the cat, but you get the picture). Glorious freedom with fabulous people who not only took me on holiday, but were my Guide and then Venture Scout leaders. 

Ian worked with my friend's husband (another fellow venture scout) for years and once they get going, their stories are as entertaining as our youthful camping ones. They were amazing times in our lives where we grew up, discovered who we were, and remarkably many of those Venture Scouts friends are still part of our lives today. In fact, several of us married our fellow scouts! 

We were also able to have time with my sister and niece, again lockdown had a massive impact on our ability to see each other – not that we see each other much, but this has been far too long. Funnily enough, as a family we have spoken more (mainly via WhatsApp) during lockdown, than for years so certainly there's some good come out of it.

Ian’s family also live locally, so it was great to see them too, maybe once we get to the island we will see more of people as it's a great holiday destination. There wasn’t time to see everyone and there were a couple of people, who were and still are incredibly important to me, that we just couldn't make work timing wise, but it was good to spend some more time with those we could and know they are OK.

After a night over near Tewkesbury at Ye Olde Hobnails Inn (Oh, that pie was amazing! And sheep for neighbours) we headed into the Cotswold's for a day out.

Being in a van means you do need to plan a bit, but Broadway isn't usually too crowded, so we headed there and found a parking spot where we could have a wander before heading up to the tower. There are so many beautiful villages in the area, but some are always busy and a sunny day, even with the restrictions of the virus probably, meant a van in Bourton-on-the-Water wasn't a good idea. Who needs it, when you have Broadway? 

We headed back to Gloucestershire for one more night to say our farewells, and then set off, stopping for a night at The Whitminster Inn, before heading to our first campsite in 5 days. Water, waste emptying, and showers awaited in Cirencester. The joy of a shower when you haven’t been able to have one for a while is hard to describe! To be honest we may not be hugging friends in our usual bear hug way, but we did need freshening up, my hair certainly thanked me for a decent flow of water!

Our final night of catching up with friends took us to Chippenham. We're hoping next time we see them, they will be in their caravan next to us in Agy. Do you think it's an age thing? We seem to have a fair few friends with a van of one sort of the other now. Our friend's drive, washing machine and another shower, topped off with an amazing BBQ and company, set us up for our first week of real wild camping. No water, no electric hook up to top our power up, no toilets nearby, just us and what’s on board. 

Farewell London

Mid August 2020, and our lives have changed forever. It's something Ian and I have been planning and talking about for well over a year, but today’s the day. In my younger days I would never have believed it if I knew I would be 50, have no fixed abode, and be happier than I have ever been.

I retired (early. VERY, very early!) this year Ian retired a while ago, again very early and we're leaving London. We’ve sold the house, and are trying to buy a home on the Isle of Wight, but that’s taking a while, so we are off to live in Agy, our fabulous campervan. We're not really sure where we will go, or even what’s possible; although lockdown is lifting, Corona virus is very much part of our lives, and our primary aim is to be safe and ensure those we meet are safe too.

Last week we donated most of our furniture to @EmmausGreenwich. A charity that supports and enables people who are homeless. Let's face it, any of us could find ourselves in this position if life changes unexpectedly (at one point a very long time ago, my life changed in an instant, despite a great job and incredibly supportive family and friends. If they hadn’t been able to offer me a bed, I too would have been homeless.). We don’t know when we will be able to move into a new home, so our important possessions are going into storage and we also don’t really know what will fit in our new home, so off most things go. We’re hoping they bring a little stability and joy to someone else.

Things all happened a bit quickly in the end as moving to the Isle of Wight brings a little more complexity than your average move. That little bit of water that makes the island so special also means most removal firms charge the earth to go (one didn’t even realise they would need a ferry to get there), so an island-based firm makes much more sense, financially and practically. Most have storage facilities, as well as doing the move, as it seems we're not the first to sell and have yet to complete a purchase on the island. Things will be a little slower than in London – something we want to embrace but it will take time to get used to! However, as lockdown hasn’t been lifted long the rush is on for everyone who wants to move, so there is one date available to move out, and it's less than a week from setting the date for exchange. With furniture mostly gone, we frantically pack the last few items on the hottest days of the year, and boy was it hot. Over 30 degrees most days, so to say we were melting is an understatement. Fortunately we are both planners, so the majority has been done for months, but those last few items seem to add up to a lot!

As the removal firm arrives, we finished packing Agy, filled her up with water and said goodbye to our city life. A strange feeling of excitement, uncertainty, and recognition that we have been very happy in London and will miss some of the buzz a multicultural city "where anything goes" brings, and our little bit of the Thames.

If I’m honest, it's a bigger leap for me than Ian. He can’t wait to live by the sea, nor can I, but I do love a crowded pavement (I know, it’s odd). We did however discover a special (!) kind of person before we left. There was always lots of parking near our house, but to make life as easy as possible for the guys actually lifting furniture, we knew some would have to come out the front, and some the back. As many of us will have done before, we thought  we would pop something out to keep the 2 spaces at the back of the house free, so they could manoeuvre the van to be as close as possible. So out went our bins in the middle of the parking spaces (believe me there were at least 20 spare!). What do you know, before we knew it, someone had parked in the space, backed up to the bin and left the front end in the road - on a corner! But it's OK, they left... along comes another car, reverses into the space, gets out and starts to move the bin... I'm speechless, but very politely shout out the first floor living room window (not at all like a fishwife), "Excuse me, we are moving out, so hoped to keep these spaces free", "Oh", he says,"I did wonder why there was a bin here, no worries" and moves to another space. 

As happens when you get down to the last few bits, you have filled the random item box and the van has gone. Then you do the last sweep of the house, grab the final items - in this case Ian's favourite trousers, he has swapped for shorts earlier in the day. The aren't expensive, or smart, but are his favourite, comfy, lightweight, showerproof, great for the outdoor life, walking and being on a campsite or doing DIY/ renovations. I have no idea what to do with them as they need washing and all we have is a tiny van, so I grabbed the nearest bag and popped them in along with a T shirt and put them with the other things to go in Agy at the bottom of the stairs. That pile got bigger and bigger, but finally we were ready, rubbish out, quick wipe round and we're off.

Our first stop is to see my dad. We haven’t seen him since December due to lockdown, and he has been incredible coping with being alone, with support from my sister and his friends who have shopped for him, but it’s far too long, when you know you may not have that many opportunities to see him again. 

Just as we are safely on the M25 I have the most awful thought. I didn't put Ian's trousers in the van.... and the bag to hand, you guessed it, a black bin bag. A quick glance down and I can see his wallet... but the trousers... nope not a chance they are with us, Ian put the bins out not me. OK, I have to own this, I have always believed we should own our mistakes, so I have to confess. I gently, calmly, quietly in my 'best calm the situation' learnt helpline voice’ (I used to work on a cancer information helpline)mention that I don't remember putting the bag containing his trousers in the van. I confess to the bin bag. Ian looks startled!, He too thinks about his wallet, but thankfully after the odd expletive from us both (to be honest it was stupid putting them in a bin bag when the house is full of them waiting to be disposed of). he is remarkably calm. Probably more so than me! We can find more, they came from a shop we know Southampton has, we can pop in there on our way to the Isle of Wight, they'll be in stock, I reassure.They have been the trouser of choice on every tip we have had in Agy, as our photo's of previous trips testify, why on earth would Ian need them on the longest trip we have ever had?