Why do I love my caravan? I used to think they were grim, with dodgy fabric and
Formica work tops.
My first peep into a new caravan showed every comfort, it had the lot, home from
home. We bought it. Our home on wheels.
People always ask, "where is you caravan?" thinking it's a static, but it's a tourer.
You take is anywhere. Its 5 stars.
I know that the road users hate us! Sometimes we pull into a layby and let them pass
1,2,3...14,15,16....,19,20 and 21 was the largest count . . . shameful.
Arriving at the site is usually tense. We apologise to each other before we row
because we are all tired and we know what's coming. Something always taunts us.
Uneven ground, bad tempered warden, failed electrics . . . wind in your awning... say
Once we set up, in our field with a view and no noise except nature, it's bliss.
Some times we have visitors. Flies, bees, slugs and foxes, some cause amusement,
other great anxiety, others eat the dog food.
We meet some characters too, on our travels, all nations, religions and mannerisms
and I sketch them in a spiral bound book and they are captured, entwined in my
journey on wheels.
At night time, we all snuggle down, hubby, me the girls and the dogs, its six in a
caravan cave, listening to each other's stories and later to each other's breathing.
And when it rains in the middle of the night, I lie awake in my home on wheels and
wish for time to stop. Nothing could be more beautiful than the rhythmic drops on the
roof and the knowledge that my life is here and it's peaceful and it's perfect.