Overall, our first fortnight’s holidayin the caravan was deemed a success.
The weather when we arrived was fabulous; we could have been in the South of France rather than the Jurassic Coast of Dorset. Actually, it was exactly that part of the coast where a cliff collapsed a few weeks previously, tragically killing a young woman. This meant that the Coastal Path, owned by the National Trust, was closed in one direction.
Our journey started well, we congratulated ourselves that we had taken the brake off, put the stabiliser on, disconnected the mover and shut all windows and vents. The ‘van was towing quite well as the nose weight was spot on.
In the very back of the car, two forlorn and cramped dogs were staring at us dolefully over the back of the seat. Tables and containers of camping-type goodies rattled alarmingly beside them and they skittered about on a slippery tarpaulin aimed at protecting the ‘good car’ from mud and vomit. In front of them in the back seat an oblivious Mavis communed with the god I-pod. Continue reading First Proper Caravan Holiday