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…
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