Tredegar House, Newport, Wales: Saturday 7th March – Wednesday 11th March 2015

Our first trip of 2015 and we set off in glorious Spring sunshine. This was the trip we should have taken last October but my back was bad and we had to cancel at the last minute. I went on to have surgery but now I’m fit again and eager to get out and about in the van. We’re looking forward to exploring this area, getting back into the caravan vibe and doing lots of walks.

The drive was straight down the M4, boring but easy and the Severn Bridge toll was a breeze, with great views across the Severn estuary (albeit slightly ruined by a large metal fence). We arrived at the site by driving through the park of Tredegar House which is set in beautiful 90 acre grounds.

  

Tredegar House is one of the architectural wonders of Wales and one of the most significant late 17th-century houses in the whole of the British Isles. For more than 500 years the house was home to one of the greatest Welsh families, the Morgans, later Lords Tredegar. The Morgan family owned more than 40,000 acres in Monmouthshire, Breconshire and Glamorgan at the end of the 18th century. Their lives impacted on the population of south-east Wales socially, economically and politically and influenced the heritage of the area.

Tredegar’s name came from Tredegar Fawr, the name of the mansion or seat of the old Morgans, who were descended from Cadifor the Great the son of Collwyn; and the owners of the land upon which Tredegar stands. The earliest record of someone with the name Morgan living at Tredegar is 1402: a Llewellyn Ap Morgan.

Extravagance, eccentricities, and weighty Death duties seriously depleted the family’s financial assets throughout the next three generations. John Morgan, 6th Baron Tredegar died childless in 1962 aged 54. His death signalled the end of the Morgans of Tredegar. In 1951, Tredegar House was stripped, the remaining contents were auctioned, and the estate was sold.

After 1951 the house was bought by the Catholic Church as a Convent school with boarders, later St. Joseph’s Roman Catholic comprehensive school. It was bought by the Newport Corporation Council in 1974, giving rise to its then status as “the grandest council house in Britain”.

In December 2011 the National Trust signed an agreement with Newport City Council to take on the management of the building, as well as the 90 acres of gardens and parkland, on a 50-year lease from 2012. The Trust said that Tredegar House was of “great importance” as many similar properties had been lost in the past 100 years. The new arrangement allowed regular open access to the House (Wikipedia).

We found a nice pitch which backed onto the empty camping field and set up in the sunshine. After a quick snack and a cup of tea we took Jim for a walk around the park. Families were out in their droves, couples walking dogs and people queueing up for ice cream at the park café. It was all very cheering and there seemed to be plenty more of the park and manor grounds to explore over the next few days.

We all had a nap when we got back then settled in for the night with a luscious Mexican and Breaking Bad on the DVD, and of course plenty of wine and lager.

Sunday 8^th March

It was inevitable of course that we would wake up to rain! It started with that annoying drizzle that hadn’t got the strength to fall in a normal rain like way, but just clung to you so that when you go outside you become damp but you’re not sure why! It must have rained overnight because the awning roof was sagging ominously. So we happily spent the morning warm and dry in the van, eating our breakfast and listening to the Archers tackling their own flood.

The Weather Channel promised sun in the afternoon so we set off for our pre-planned trip to the Wetlands. Passing the Hanging Bridge on the way it was a short drive to the Visitor Centre where a really nice chap gave us a map and instructions of a 4 mile circular walk that we could do with the dog. It was lovely. Most of the way had stone paths and we could stay relatively mud free – not the dog though – he was pretty mucky within a few minutes!

The views were great. We passed a group of twitchers who were equipped with lots of sophisticated equipment set on tripods, excitedly looking out for a marsh harrier. We didn’t see any exciting wildlife except a rather large dead snake (later identified as an adder), but met an old Welsh farmer turning out his cute 10 week old lambs – luckily we had Jim on a lead!

We stopped for coffee and Welsh cakes at the Visitors centre and then set off for the Fourteen Locks as it was still quite early.

Fourteen Locks is a series of locks, also known as the Cefn Flight, on the Crumlin Arm of the Monmouthshire Canal at Rogerstone Newport, Wales. The flight of locks was completed in 1799 and raises the water level 160 ft (50 m) in just 800 yd (740 m). This is one of the steepest rises for a major run in the UK which, combined with the sheer number of locks, makes it one of the most significant in the country. The run of locks includes a series of embanked ponds, sluices and weirs to control the water supply, with no set of gates shared between individual locks. It therefore comprises a flight of locks rather than a staircase(Wikipedia)

We didn’t stay long as it was getting cold, but the locks looked impressive and were scarily deep. It is certainly somewhere that we could revisit and there is circular walk that would take it all in.

One of the biggest disappointments for me today was the lack of gift shopping opportunities – I’m seriously in need of some retail therapy – so tomorrow we plan to go into Newport and suss out the town.

We came back to the van for tea and biscuits and a Miss Marple DVD. Curry for tea tonight and the next episodes of Breaking Bad.

Monday 9^th March

We both had a disturbed night as it was incredibly cold! We got up at 3am to put a couple more blankets on the bed and turn the heater up to the maximum. I fully expected to see frost in the morning but it was just a cold, dull, drizzly day. We had another leisurely breakfast: croissants, sausage and bacon baguettes, orange juice, filter coffee – we know how to live!

The itinerary today was to visit a castle. There are lots around us and it was difficult to choose, but we settled on White Castle which was about 20 miles away. When we got there it was disappointingly deserted, but when we got out of the car we knew why! The elevated position made it exposed to brutal winds and perishing cold – so we decided to head back towards Newport and try Raglan Castle.

 

 Raglan Castle is a late medieval Castle located just north of the village of Raglan, in the county of Monmouthshire in south east Wales. The modern castle dates from between the 15th and early 17th-centuries, when the successive ruling families of the Herberts and the Somersets created a luxurious, fortified castle, complete with a large hexagonal Keep, known as the Great Tower or the Yellow Tower of Gwent. Surrounded by water gardens, the castle was considered by contemporaries to be the equal of any other in England or Wales. During the English Civil War the castle was held on behalf of Charles I and was taken by Parliamentary forces in 1646. In the aftermath, the castle was slighted, or deliberately put beyond military use; after the restoration, the Somersets declined to restore the castle. Raglan Castle became first a source of local building materials, then a ruin, and is now a modern tourist attraction (Wikipedia).

We braved the bracing cold and wandered around the castle which was quite impressive, containing lots of nooks and crannies and deep staircases going down into dark, dank places. Jim enjoyed himself, particularly the back scratching potential of the old worn stone walls.

We didn’t stay long and set out in search of a farm shop. The one in the brochure was 80 miles away and the two local ones sold farm equipment, not exotic cheeses or rustic breads! So we settled for a trip into Newport town centre to check out the indoor covered market. Easier said than done! We had TomTom, a map and the i-phone but the road works made the approach very confusing. We eventually got parked and had a wander around the town. The covered market was appealing and there were charity shops and a Greggs, but having Jim with us meant that we weren’t welcome in most places so we played a leap frog game, taking it in turns to look around different shops. We brought DVDs, nice bread, cream cakes, a fridge magnet and some Welsh honey, so quite a productive afternoon.

Home to the van to watch Laurel & Hardie DVDs, have a cup of tea and look out of the steamy windows at the grey afternoon.

Tuesday 10^th March

The promised sunshine did not let us down and it was a gloriously bright Spring morning. All thoughts of yesterday’s miserable weather was forgotten as we set off to explore Barry Island. Famed for the TV series ‘Gavin and Stacey’, Barry’s golden gilt had been worn away somewhat. Probably not helped with the 1996 closure of Butlins that had been on Barry Island for 30 years, as well as the subsequent recession.

It was thriving for this time of year with lots of people out walking their dogs and having coffee in the only open (and very crowded) café on the front, but the town’s struggle could be seen in the boarded up shops and closed down, dusty amusement parks. It’s a shame because the beach is stunning, with long sandy beaches and rock pools. Jim loves a sandy beach; rolling and running around and greeting the occasional dog.

We walked out along Friars Point, a large headland to the right of the beach with views out over the Knapp and the old Butlin’s site.

Then we wandered around the town which had seen better days but had the usual smattering of high street shops and a thriving market. Its endearing qualities were the free car park and the friendliness of the locals. We had conversations with at least three people who stopped to admire Jim!

After our visit to Barry we drove up the coast to look at some points along the Wales coast path but found it hard to get down to the coast line as there were no obvious signs. It’s always something we can explore at a later date.

So it was back to the van to relax and read in the sunshine and then a walk around in the park in the setting sun on the way to getting some very tasty fish and chips for tea. A lovely end to our first break of 2015 – the next one is already booked!

If you want to see more photos of our trip to Newport click here:

https://www.flickr.com/photos/organize/?start_tab=one_set72157648851565232

 

Littlehampton, West Sussex Friday 12th – Mon 15th September 2014

We had a glorious four day weekend stretching ahead of us and were looking forward to a caravan break in Littlehampton. Unfortunately my sciatica had come back with a vengeance and I couldn’t walk very far but we decided we might as well be relaxing in the van rather than stuck at home so we set off in lovely Autumn sunshine.

(Little did we know that this would probably be our last trip of 2014 as my back went into spasm and I had to be admitted to hospital 2 days before our next caravan weekend booked in Cardiff planned in October, but that’s another story).

We were staying at Littlehampton Caravan Club site as we’ve decided we like the calm ambiance, smartness and superior facilities that CC sites seem to offer. This one was no exception but it didn’t offer much of interest in the reception area. The ability to purchase the daily papers and some fresh bread (and maybe cake) always go down well and seems to start the day off to a positive start, but this was not to be on this site.

After setting up camp we set off to explore the local beach and give the dog a run. Since we’ve decided we might like to retire to a seaside resort in our declining years we can’t help viewing all our caravan destinations on the South coast as potential final dwelling places. Eyeing up quaint cottages backing on to the sea and daydreaming about grandchildren rock pooling in our back garden! Unfortunately I don’t think Littlehampton will qualify! It’s a nice enough town but the potential of the beach area seems to be sadly lacking and strangely divorced from the town itself, resulting in a lack of cohesion. The East end of the beach was frustratingly difficult to access but we found West beach charming and wonderfully deserted. I parked myself on the shingle and stones while the Man took Jim along the sand for a run in the beautiful evening sun.

Saturday 13^th Sept: 

It was a novelty not to wake up to the rhythmic pattering of rain on the caravan roof. We spent a lovely lazy morning eating breakfast in the sunshine before setting off to explore Arundel Castle.

Arundel Castle is a restored medieval castle established by Roger de Montgomery on Christmas Day 1067. Roger became the first to hold the earldom of Arundel by the graces of William the Conqueror. The castle was damaged in the English Civil War and then restored in the 18th and 19th centuries. From the 11th century onward, the castle has served as a hereditary stately home and has been in the family of the Duke of Norfolk for over 400 years. It is still the principal seat of the Norfolk family (Wikipedia).

Driving over the bridge into Arundel, the castle and cathedral make up a stunning vista and we were really looking forward to wandering around the castle grounds and getting some good photography shots. Unfortunately it was not to be – they would not let dogs into the gardens. Very frustrating!  So we had to content ourselves with wandering around the town – very quaint and picturesque – but a bit of a struggle for me requiring frequent rest stops (but including lashings of coffee and cake of course).

Sunday 14^th Sept:

Our second day dawned beautifully sunny again – a first for us to have no rain (so far). Today we decided to explore the beaches of Littlehampton and had a nice wander on the East beach which was sparsely populated with families enjoying the Sunday sunshine.

I settled on a groin (!), wonderfully warmed by the sun while the Man and Jim went off for a stroll. We followed this up with a surprisingly good cup of coffee and bag of chips deliciously soaked in salt and vinegar before setting off for a brief visit to Worthing about 10 miles away.

Worthing was delightfully genteel and quintessentially ‘seaside’. The beach was vibrant with refined activity along its promenade and the town centre. We got parked for free (on Sundays) right in front of the beach and strolled (hobbled) along the promenade to the pier. It was really gratifying that dogs were allowed on the pier and we took advantage and walked its length stopping to look at the fisherman and sit in the hot sun and partake of a Flake 99!

This has been the only break where it has NOT RAINED at some point during our stay (and I’m talking relentless rain – not just the odd shower). It’s such a shame that I’ve been debilitated by painful sciatica and we haven’t been able to enjoy the long walks and exploring that makes these breaks so pleasurable.

So there was nothing else for us to do but return to the van so that I could put my feet up and rest. We read the papers, drank tea, and I might have napped with The Dog for a while – so still able to have a lovely time in spite of my troubles!

The weather stayed beautiful, and we had a leisurely pack up on Monday morning and a drive home feeling wonderfully relaxed and revived.

You can see more photos of Littlehampton here: https://www.flickr.com/photos/clooneyloon/sets/72157648851565232/

Burnham-on-Sea and Minehead, Somerset. Fri 8th August – Wed 13th August 2014

This caravan break has been planned with a slight difference. It’s my birthday weekend and for the last few years we’ve tried to get together with all the kids to have a family weekend – my birthday is just an excuse, but hopefully being in the middle of August we might get lucky with the weather. We’ve done Paris, London Zoo and CentreParcs, but this year we thought we’d take advantage of the ‘van and book the kids and their partners into a static caravan on the same site.

 

The Man is the cook of the family and feeding the hoards is his forte – however this year it was going to prove a challenge – how do we cook a meal for 8 people in a 2 berth caravan (and the site rules say no microwave…)? This was going to be interesting.

So the Man and I set of with tupperware boxes full of curry (3 kinds), enough bread to form a mountain, and a crate of lager clinkling against the countless bottles of wine in the car boot.

We got to the site first and were pretty much set up in the Orange section (hard standing with pets) when the family started to arrive. They had a pleasant 3 bedroom static caravan that was much bigger inside than it looked, plus they had a TV, regular toilet and a hot shower (we of the chemical toilet, DVD only and no shower facilities looked on enviously). We set up under some trees which was nice for the dog and offered us a bit of privacy from the hoardes of children skidding around on their bikes and scooters. We were right on the edge of the site but not too far from the family static – unfortunatley we were right next to a main road, and a train line that announced each locomotive with a long, piercing train whistle.

We planned our first night curry meal to be hosted at the ‘van so our visitors arrived with yet more wine, beer and a chair each. Unfortunately one of them forgot the seating instructions and had to sit on the wine cooler all night. Not too uncomfortable except he had to keep getting up every time someone wanted another drink!

 

It was the first time all three of our children had bought their partners so we had a raucous game of Mr & Mrs. The Man let me down badly though and we only came third compared to the winning couple who had only been together a few months! More games, lots of curry and a continuous supply of alcohol made for a special evening that started our family break off with a bang.

Saturday 9^th August

My 56^th birthday dawned hot and sunny, and I started out OK but after a couple of hours was feeling decidedly ‘dusty’. Judging by the number of bottles and cans that were strewn outside the ‘van glinting accusingly in the morning sunlight, I wasn’t surprised! We took breakfast to the kids static van and sat out in the sun recovering with croissants, bacon and sausage rolls, and lots of coffee – all of us were a bit subdued with the effects from last night. I was cheered up with lots of lovely birthday presents and cards and was utterly thrilled with the ‘then and now’ photos the kids had specially made for me.

 

The plan for today was a trip to Weston-Super-Mare and we set off in convoy for the short trip to the beach. We wandered along the dog friendly beach and watched gloomily as the clouds gathered and the rain started, sending us under the pier for shelter. It was only a ‘clearing up shower’ (something my mother used to optimistically say), so we went and had a coffee while we decided what to do.

The pier (no dogs), mini golf (no dogs) and the shops (no dogs) were all appealing to the young ones, so the Man and I left them to have a wander around while we explored the more Northern end of the town that we hadn’t seen on our last trip here. We had a very pleasant walk through the town and a park before finding the lake and wandering back along the beach. The sun was pleasantly hot and it looked very promising….and then the heavens opened! We beat a hasty retreat to sit in a hotel garden under a sun umbrella and have a lager shandy out of the rain, but the gale force winds and horizontal torrents forced us to cower in the entrance lobby like a couple of pan handlers! We’d arranged to meet the kids here and when they finally arrived they looked a little damp and unhappy….! Time to go back to the site, maybe have a nap and a freshen up before we start the evenings festivities!

Apparently Hurricane Bertha was to blame for the extreme weather: torrential downpours and strong winds and so we decided to eschew the planned relaxing pub meal and settled instead for the site ‘club house’, bingo and a 60’s tribute band! Despite our misgivings we had a good meal and enjoyed the Bingo and the Band. The numersous jugs of lager helped oil the festivities and the evening was all the more enjoyable when we got the rather reasonable bill!

Sunday 10^th August

My heart sunk when I woke to torrential rain drumming on the ‘van roof, but it was 6:50 am and as my mother used to say ‘rain before seven, shine before eleven’, so I tried to be positive. It took a while to rouse the kids and in the end we went round to their static with breakfast from the restaurant and the smell of bacon finally got them out of bed. The rain continued and we gloomily looked out of their rain lashed window at the grey clouds and doubted we’d manage today’s plans of a visit to Brean Down. But we finally rallied and gathering kagoules, umbrellas and walking boots we set off determined not to let the weather interfere with our enjoyment.

The last time we were here the Man and I decided against the walk up to Brean Down as we’d had a busy day and I was still just getting over my slipped disc and the Man had his knees to think of, so we were determined that we’d do it this time.

The walk was amazing, even the kids were impressed. The views were wonderful and the wind was extreme, blowing away all thoughts of hangovers and weariness. It was a good walk to the end of the cliff and the historic fort, but half of us declined walking down to the final part where the goats were gathered and the waves looked like distant white horses. A couple of hours later we regrouped in the local (liscenced) café with our cheeks singing, eyes watering and limbs aching.

The only fitting end to the day was a quiet evening sprawled in front of the TV watching Raiders of the Lost Ark, and a gorging on a mammoth Chinese takeaway.

Monday 11^th August

The kids went home today and the Man and I felt a bit sad when we bid them farewell. But we had new pastures to explore and after a leisurely pack up we set off for the second (and more peaceful) leg of our holiday – Minehead. The Home Farm site turfed out their visitors at 10:00 in the morning, which is a bit harsh when you have to pack up a caravan, take down the awning and empty the chemical toilet. I thought the Caravan Club turn out time of 12:00 was bad enough but this was too much. Luckily the day before I’d asked for an extra night and although they’d protested that they were fully booked and really busy I pointed out the 17 vacant pitches in our area and managed to get another night. This meant we could take our time and have a morning, shower, a leisurely breakfast and set off in our own time.

I thought the journey was quite straightforward and Minehead was just down the coast on the M5. We made the mistake of not checking the map and ended up getting a bit lost around Bridgewater and driving down increasingly narrow country roads trying to get back onto the A39. We made it by the skin of our wing mirrors about 45 minutes later!

From there our journey to the Minehead Caravan Club site was relatively uneventful and we pitched up quite quickly (awning erection less than 15 minutes!) and set off to explore the sea front. It’s a nice compact resort with a large Butlins providing a focus for hoardes of hyper excited children and weary parents, but these were lost in the vast empty beaches that seem typical in this part of the West coast. The town centre was pleaseant with the ususal high street shops, but also peppered with a number of bespoke establishments and tea houses that provided interest and charm.  After an initial squally shower the sun remained and we spent a pleasant afternoon exploring.

Tuesday 12^th August

A full day discovering the charms of Minehead. Rain of course – have we ever had a caravan break without rain? Leisurely morning, pleasant shower, good breakfast with entertaiment provided by the remnants of the Sunday glossies. Then off to Dunster castle. What a treat! At last our National Trust membership paid off and we got free car parking and entry, and the place was delightlul. Beautiful gardens, a mill, a tea shop, keep garden and pet cemetery.

Lots of fabulously luxurious shrubs and flowers and old stonework and follies around every corner – and of course the gift shop – lovely. We had a nice lunch in the village where they allowed dogs in (although they might change their minds after Jim kept shouting at the Man to share his ploughman’s!).

Next on the agenda was a walk along Culver Cliff from Minehead harbour and back along the beach. It was a challenging walk, very steep climbs and large boulders and stones on the beach. It took us about 2 hours and we certainly felt the effects of our efforts. Ibuprofen and a couple of glasses of wine helped – Jim just collapsed on the bed for a couple of hours!

I think another eary night is on the cards before heading for home tomorrow.

Three counties holiday – Somerset, Cornwall and Dorset

Phase one: Hurn Lane: Burford –on-Sea, Somerset.

Saturday 5^th July – Monday 7^th July 2014

This is our first ‘long haul’. A week of touring through Somerset, Cornwall and Dorset. We’ve only done 2 or 3 nights before so we’re looking forward to a longer break and trying to figure out what will be different in the planning. Lots more clothes, lots more food and a lot more alcohol required!

The week before has been tropical at home. Up to 29 degrees on the Friday when the Man and I were both shackled to the work routine, so we were not surprised that our holiday week was forecast to start with rain followed by much cooler weather. It also wasn’t lost on me that we were originally planning to go the previous week but a work thing had necessitated a postponement…

So we set off on Saturday in a light drizzle. This time we were off to the Atlantic coast rather than the South which is where all our caravan breaks have been so far. By the time we got to Hurn Lane in Burnham-on-Sea the sunshine was making a valiant effort and we were able to set up in a cul-de-sac pitch with plenty of room and  our backs to a nice tall hedge. Once we got the awning and wind break up and we had a very exclusive pitch in the late setting sun.

Having established camp we set off on a short exploratory walk. Fifteen minutes down the road and through some dunes and we came across the stunning Berrow Flats. It was awesomely vast, wind blown and desolate. The beach spread for miles and the tide was way out on the mud flats – it was glorious! The Dog absolutely loved it and ran and ran, stopping only to greet other dogs, roll in the sand and sniff the seaweed. There were horses, dogs, kite flyers, and model cars. Cars and motorhomes were parked directly on the sands and there was a mobile coffee shop and souvenir stand.  But all of it was just a speck on the vastness of the sands.  

We were able to sit out in the sun in the evening, and the site seemed peaceful and quiet. However, directly behind our hedge was a more raucous camp site that seemed to come into its own after the pubs turned out and we ended up having a slightly disturbed night!

The morning dawned with the inevitable patter of rain on the ‘van roof but we had to rouse ourselves early as the shower rooms were closed between 10 and 11 for cleaning (as I’ve said previously – surely the most popular time of day to use the facilities?). This meant we got the day started quite early with a sausage bap, fresh OJ and filter coffee (we know how to live!).

The sun came out as we wandered around Burnham-on-Sea. No dogs on the beach, but we stopped for a coffee and bought a pasty and a sausage roll at Winnie’s Bakery.

B-O-S is a typical little seaside town with bespoke shops that seem to promise so much from the pavement but fizzle out of energy when you go inside. But it was nice wandering along the High Street and the Dog was unusually well behaved which made the experience much more pleasant! From here we drove up the coast to Weston-Super-Mare.

Weston is a much bigger bustling seaside town with fish and chips, cockles and hoards of marauding seagulls! It’s got a nice atmosphere though and doesn’t seem too frenetic or ‘kiss me quick’, although it is still early in the season and the kids aren’t off school yet.  It was wonderful to discover the vast beach between the pier and Knightsdown was dog friendly and Jim had a lovely time rushing about and rolling in the damp sand. So far on our caravan trips we seem to have had an over abundance of shingle beaches which are not Jim ‘s best medium! We sat with our backs against the seawall in the sunshine and out of the wind, and Jim helped the Man eat his meat and potato pasty!

As we only had one full day at Hurn Lane we drove to Brean Down. This is an outlet of cliff at the end of a dead end road traversing through miles of holiday homes and parks with bursts of carnival atmosphere at Pontins and Haven offering amusements, crazy golf and candy floss!

Brean Down was an impressive cliff rearing up from the vast sands. It’s the most Western part of the Mendip hills and humans have occupied it since the Bronze age. We intended to explore the cliff and Brean Down Fort at the top, but the sheer steps up the cliff face kind of put us off. We had had a very busy day exploring and a hard climb up (and down again) made the Man’s knees and my back ache at the thought!  So we sat for a while in the lee of the cliff before heading for home for a well earned cup of tea and a nap in the sun.

Phase two: Trewethitt Farm, Tintagel, Cornwall.

Monday 7^th – Thursday 10^th July 2014

Although the morning dawned sunny and bright, by the time we started to close up camp the grey clouds had gathered and we drove off as it started to rain. During all 120 miles from Burford-on-Sea to Tintagel in Cornwall the rain lashed down.

Our first introduction to North Cornwell was grey and dismal not helped by having to stand out in the elements by the pitch while the Man went and got the ‘van. I was pretty miserable by the time we could get into the shelter of the ‘van but the Man had to carry on sorting the outside pitch and was soaked through by the time he’d finished – not a good start. We couldn’t do much for the rest of the day except explore the site which was perched right on the edge of a dramatic cliff with the sun setting over the Altantic virtually on our door step.

We needed provisions and were directed to the nearest shop 8 miles away! There is no mobile phone coverage and more cows than people – it’s a bit disconcerting for a townie like me! After a fish and chip supper sitting out watching the sunset we spent a very quiet night.

Today we planned to visit Boscastle and it was only a short drive from camp.

Many people know Boscastle through the terrible flash flood on 16 August 2004 which caused extensive damage to the village. Residents were trapped in houses as the roads turned into rivers: people were trapped on roofs, in cars, in buildings and on the river’s banks. and the village’s visitor centre was washed away. A considerable Royal Air Force rescue ensued coordinated by the Aeronautical Rescue Coordination Centre (ARCC) based at RAF Kinloss in Scotland in the largest peacetime rescue operation ever launched in the UK. A total of 91 people were rescued and there were no fatalities, only one broken thumb. Around 50 cars were swept into the harbour and the bridge was washed away, roads were submerged under 2.75 m of water, making communication effectively impossible until flood-waters subsided. The sewerage system burst, and for this range of health and safety reasons Boscastle was declared temporarily inaccessible (Wikipedia).

The approach view was stunning from high up on the hill and the town itself quite enchanting. It’s quite small and compact, but a lot is packed in: quaint shops, old houses, ancient slate walls, boats, harbour walls, even a rock formation that looks like Queen Victoria! We had a lovely wander round, poking around some of the shops and when it finally rained (light and short lived) we ducked into the Cobweb Inn and had a very pleasant lunch and lager shandy.

The day was still relatively young so we decided to drive up to Bude and check out the town and beach.  We just drove through the high street and had a wander around behind the beach (no dogs allowed). The surf school gave us some entertainment for a while amid lots of shrieking from the adolescent pupils,  but the grey clouds gathered again so we decided to head for home and a well earned rest.

The wind had slapped the awning and rocked the van all night but Wednesday dawned bright and sunny. After breakfast in the sunshine reading the papers we went off on our trip to Tintangel.

The village and nearby Tintagel Castle are associated with the legends surrounding King Arthur and the knights of the Round Table. The village has, in recent times, become attractive to day-trippers, and tourists from many parts of the world, and is one of the most-visited places in Britain. The village also features the ‘Old Post Office’, which dates from the 14th century. It became a post office during the nineteenth century, and is now listed Grade I and owned by the National Trust.

It was a lovely town, quite busy and dotted with the usual bespoke shops and tourist attractions. We walked around using a guide that we’d bought at Boscastle and soon found ourselves out of the town and heading towards the Castle.  We didn’t pay to look round the ruined castle but got a good view from Barras Nose.

The climb was challenging but the views well worth it and we carried on a good walk around the headland and back into Tintagel for a light lunch.

From here we drove down to Padstow by which time it was hot and sunny.

Padstow was wonderful, all ramshackle shops and buildings squashed together, a very quaint bustling harbour and long sandy beaches. It was inevitably heaving with people which both added to its charm, as well as being annoying – after all we were adding to the congestion! A quick stop at a farm shop to get some cider before heading back. I’ve decided I’m not a great fan of cider, but cream teas are a different matter and at least we’ve solved the debate on how they should be eaten!

Phase three: Maltleaves Farm, Weymouth, Dorset.

Thursday 10^th – Saturday 12^th July 2014

I can’t say we weren’t sorry to leave North Cornwall in grey, cold, damp miserable weather. Towing the ‘van through the narrow high hedged roads,  and struggling up steep hills made for a slightly tense journey but once we hit the main roads we started to leave the grey clouds behind. It was 130 miles across country to Weymouth and we made it in 3 hours with a short comfort break at Exeter services.

Maltleaves Farm is perched right on the coast in Wyke Regis and the last couple of streets were a bit narrow and double parked, but we squeezed through and pitched overlooking vast Chesil Beach.

This site was slightly more ‘rustic’ than our last two courtesy of the  ‘Caravan Club’ . Basically a big field beyond some stables and farm buildings and field of odd looking alpacas – we’d have to keep a close hold on Jim!

The shower and toilet block were clean and functional and the owners friendly albeit a little vague (they didn’t have a record of our booking).  By now we were dab hands at setting up and within an hour we were sitting with a drink before heading off to Weymouth proper to meet up with some friends for the evening.

The beach area was thriving with holiday makers and kids just out of school. Jim was allowed on the beautiful fine sandy beach and he took great interest in the donkeys giving rides, but there wasn’t much else going on. We had a coke in one of two coffee shops along the whole beach front, but there were no bars or shops to break the monotony of the beach. In the end we had to drive out of town to find a pub with a garden where we could have a meal with our friends.

We had one full day in Weymouth and decided to go to Portland to see Portland Bill and the views of Chesil Beach. They were not a disappointment. The heat and the sun made everything better and we had a nice wander around Portland Bill with its comfortingly traditional lighthouse (red and white) and chunks of creamy Portland stone strewn about.

I had visited Chesil Beach as part of a school trip many years ago and have never forgotten the impact that the site of the vast beach had on me when I first saw it. Chesil is a barrier beach which has “rolled” landwards, joining the mainland with the Isle of Portland, giving the appearance of a tombolo. The shingle beach is 29 kilometres (18 mi) long, 200 metres (660 ft) wide and 15 metres (50 ft) high (Wikipedia). Today was no exception and the view from the Newground viewing area was awesome. We could even see our ‘van in the distance through the binoculars.

Lunch was way overdue so we set off to find a pub. Easier said than done and I’m beginning to wonder if the traditional British pub is a dying institution. We ended up driving out of Weymouth and after trying two pubs (both had stopped serving lunch at 2pm) we found a lovely place and sat in the hot sunshine in the garden with a ploughmans and a jacket potatoe.

Back to the site for a quick stroll along the Fleet lagoon behind Chesil beach.  It was a bit boring as the hedges were so high limiting the views, so we went back to the van and spent the rest of the day sitting in the sun. A perfect end to our 3 counties holiday.

 

 

 

 

 

Fishery Creek – Hayling Island: 13th -16th June 2014

We both had Friday off work so set off in the blazing sun after a leisurely morning preparing, cleaning, packing and closing up the house. To our delight (and surprize) the sun persisted and we arrived in the South of Hayling Island in tropical weather. We had prepaid for a creek side pitch and were very happy to set up on the edge of the site overlooking one of the many tidal inlets around the island.

Once our camp had been established we set off on the short walk along the waterside path and through a small housing estate to the local area for shops, souvenirs and the beach at Eastoke Corner. The location of the dog friendly beach so close to camp was somewhat lost on us as Jim is a bit pebble phobic! The miserable look on his face and his laboured, mincing steps make us avoid the pebble and shingle beaches if at all possible.

By the time we got back to base the site was filling up and for the first time in our caravanning adventures we experienced close neighbours and a full site. Not so peaceful as we’re used to and with the heat necessitating open windows throughout the van, it made us realise how noisy camp life can be! That noise was to become epic overnight when we experienced a thunder storm of biblical proportions. I was convinced there would be some collateral damage, but the morning dawned sunshine fresh and we were none the worse for it.

We were able to enjoy a leisurely breakfast and the Saturday papers sitting outside, with our awning and wind breaks providing a suitable territorial claim (a necessity in this more crowded site!). We then ventured to the local amusements/candyfloss/funfair at West Town and walked along the beach and scrubland along Ferry Road. The seaside is remarkably under developed, with a mix of tired and faded grand hotels – that wouldn’t be out of place in a Miss Marple mystery, and run down council flats with amazing sea views.

Further back from the coast are leafy roads with houses set far back, each individually designed, with some taking on a distinct nautical look. We stopped for a coffee break at an oddly placed seaside champagne bar that distinctly lacked character, then drove through West Town and Mengham before setting off back to the ‘van and an afternoon lazing in the sun (albeit now covered in a layer of hazy cloud).

Jim had an adventurous day. Firstly he broke loose from his tether at the van, and we had to pick him up from lost and found in the camp office,  embarrassed and fearful in equal measure! He then had an scary altercation with two boisterous schnouzers on our pleasant evening walk along the creek, finishing with a stand off with a rather large swan. He spent the  rest of the day checking out the next door’s dogs and snouting noisily through the undergrowth between our camp and the creek.

Sunday dawned disappointingly dull and cool and breakfast had to be taken inside the awning. We ventured out to explore the west of the Island and the headland around the Ferry Boat Inn was a busy hive of Sunday water worshippers. The cool weather and grey clouds didn’t seem to put off the sailors, windsurfers and paddlers, but it was a shame that it wasn’t more warm and sunny.

Our next stop was the Hayling Billy leisure trail which was an old railway line converted into a cycle/walkway going up the west coast of the island. It was lovely. Apart from having to dodge the frequent cyclists, we went off piste through some woods and walked along a delightfully deserted beach overlooking Langstone harbour with the Spinnaker tower in Portsmouth a distant landmark. The grey clouds never fulfilled their threat and the walk was wonderful.

 

This is somewhere we would want to come back to with a blanket and a picnic basket – the sun has to be shining though!

Back to the  van just as the rain started spitting, but it never amounted to much so we chilled – this time with the Sunday papers (and a snooze) before a lovely evening walk around Mengham Salterns.

It was a balmy Sunday evening, so we took down the awning (while it was dry) and relaxed with take away fish & chips, ready to pack up and go home in the morning.

For more photos of our Hayling Island trip look here.

Rookesbury Park, Wickham: 26th – 28th April 2014

We’re becoming more creative with our caravan breaks. This time I worked in the morning and we set off in the afternoon and stayed Saturday and Sunday, and with the Monday night booked we had the flexibility of staying most of Monday.  We set off in the usual grey, drizzly weather – we would be shocked if the sun shone! But when we got to the campsite just 90 minutes later there was beautiful sunshine bathing the van when we’d finally set up camp.

We didn’t have much time in the evening – just enough to cook dinner, relax and enjoy a glass of wine or two.

As usual we woke to the sound of rain drumming on the van roof, so there was no rush to get up and we had a very lazy morning and a lovely breakfast of sausage baguettes, OJ and strong coffee.

When the rain finally stopped we set off to explore Lee-on-the-Solent and Hill head.

We walked along the beaches in the fleeting flashes of sunshine, and the winds bought out the windsurfers, sailors and kite flyers.

Our last day dawned cool again with the inevitable hint of rain in the air. We didn’t want to venture far, but the site was situated right on the edge of West Walk of the Forest of Bere. We could easily have got lost but took a circular route along worn woodland tracks, past picnic tables and play grounds. Jim had a wonderful time exploring and we were lucky that the rain held off long enough for us to really enjoy the bird song and peace and quiet.

This is somewhere that we want to return to – when the weather gets better!

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Bay View Caravan Park, Pevensey Bay, Eastbourne, East Sussex: Friday 21st March – Sun 23rd March 2014

Friday 21st March 

This is our first trip of 2014 (discounting our New Year adventures!). Our decision was based on the sub-tropical weather from the previous weekend where South East England basked in Mediterranean  temperatures, everyone wore T shirts and all gathered at their local garden centres for shopping and coffee. The forecast promised similar weather until the end of the month.

Of course that was a dastardly lie. By Tuesday the forecast was freezing temperatures, rain and even snow in some areas. But the pitch was booked and off we went in typically British bulldog style. Boots, scarves and hats all packed. Even 2 towels for the dog!

As it was a sneaky weekend at a dodgy time of year, we both worked Friday morning and set off in the afternoon. We booked the extra night on Sunday so that we could spend the day and leave in the afternoon/evening instead of ‘get up and go’ like we usually do. The traffic was a bit heavy but we got to Pevensey Bay by about 5:30, in time to set up camp and walk on the beach in the approaching dusk, which happened to be only 3 minutes walk from the van. So far, so good.

Saturday 22^nd March

We both had a restless night (but not Jim) due to the gale force winds buffeting the caravan, seriously tempting the porch awning to fly off towards Brighton. Woken by the familiar sound of drumming rain on the roof we decided to eschew the civilised start of the day by showering, instead  live like hobos and have sausages and bacon for breakfast listening to radio 4 as there was no TV hook up.

The sun eventually came out and we decided to go and have a look at Beachy Head. My dog rambling rules (‘don’t underestimate how cold it can be’) were niggling in the back of mind but I foolishly decided to ignore them, and parking at the Visitors Centre car park we walked up the hill almost immediately regretting our foolishness by not sporting hats and gloves. The wind was brisk and icy!

The weather was awesomely biblical! Looking out over the English Channel you could see grey torrential rain clouds side by side with sun and blue skies moving East along the coast.

We enjoyed battling the extremes of weather and buffeting winds, and admired the resilience of the runners taking part in the Endurance Life 2014, where you can run 10k, half marathon, full marathon or even ultra – 33.7 miles! Awesome – especially as I was pathetically hobbling up the hill, huffing and puffing, clutching my trusty rustic cane!

After a compulsory mooch around the gift shop, we went from Beachy Head up to Belle Tout lighthouse, which looks like a private dwelling when you get up close. The wind here was so strong it felt like it could take you off up in the air – not such a good idea being how close we were to the (unsafe) cliff edge.

From here you get a good view of the Seven Sisters. These are a series of chalk cliffs by the English Channel. They form part of the South Downs in East Sussex, between the towns of Seaford and Eastbourne in southern England. They are the remnants of dry valleys in the chalk South Downs, which are gradually being eroded by the sea (Wiki).

From here we went into Eastbourne and drove along the sea front past the pleasure pier – a peculiarly English structure! We ended up in Sovereign harbour which was a strangely lifeless community just along the coast from our pitch, but we were able to get an outside seat under heaters and had a surprisingly pleasant lunch of a club sandwich and carrot cake – all the while keeping Jim on tight leash and feeding him scraggy bits of bacon to keep him quiet!

A trip to Asda for a reassuring shop – more lager for the man, and then back to the van for a late afternoon crash on the couch watching DVDs. The beautiful evening sunset dragged us back out for a short pre-dinner stroll on the beach that was cut short by an irate resident shouting colourful language at us regarding our hapless dog caring skills after Jim ran a cat to ground in it’s own front garden! We slunk off up the lane  in embarrassed shame, while Jim trotted back to the van like a reigning fly weight champion!

No TV connection on site, so we watched our box set of Breaking Bad and really got into it – it took us to the third series but it’s well worth it!

Sunday 23^rd March

A calm night and we woke to the sun shining so we were glad we’d paid extra to stay for the afternoon. Today we wanted to go back to Eastbourne and walk along the pier. Unfortunately dog’s weren’t allowed (why on earth not?) so we settled for coffee on the promenade in the watery (but cold) sunshine.

We dodged the incoming storm and settled for fish and chips back in our cosy van watching our last engrossing episode of BB. So good I ordered the 4^th series on Ebay straight away.

We did a leisurely pack up (the man does the outside and I do the inside) and an easy drive home.

A much needed perfect week end.

Sandy Balls, Fordingbridge, New Forest – Tues 31st Dec 2013 – Thurs 2nd January 2014

We decided we’d go on a New Year’s Eve getaway instead of our usual middle aged boring evening at home, struggling to stay awake until midnight and searching desolately through the hundreds of TV channels for something worthwhile to watch. The caravan gave us an ideal opportunity to do something different and so we booked a three night stay at Sandy Balls (see Oct 2013) with evening entertainment lined up for New Year’s Eve.

The Christmas storms and flooding all over the UK made us avid weather watchers for New Year week. I worked all day on Sunday 28^th and it was a gloriously sunny crisp day so we kept our fingers crossed – but it was not to be.  Monday dawned dark and angry with slashing rain and gale force winds. The Man was not going to risk towing a caravan in these weather conditions!

Tuesday was marginally better. Still grey and miserable, but the wind had died down, so we packed up the van with added fairy lights and festive cheer and set off.  As soon as we drove off the heavens opened and we drove to the New Forest in a torrential downpour – typical!

It didn’t bode well that our pitch had been changed due to flooding but the Dunkirk spirit kicked in and we set up camp in a rare break in the rain. Our spirits soon lifted after we got the heater on and had a cup of tea and a slice of Christmas cake.  Our plan had been to go down to Lymington for a wander, and then a walk around Pennington Marshes.  Of course torrential rain, flooding  and marshes don’t go well together, but we thought we’d have a look anyway. We never got there as it’s quite difficult to find but instead we ended up at Milford-on-Sea again and parked at Paddys Gap for a walk on the beach.

It was fierce. Sharp winds and grey, overcast skies – but we managed a fifteen minute bracing walk and Jim got a good run about, including a few scuffles and stand offs with the local canine thugs. We just got back to the car and the heavens opened in a biblical storm. We were glad to get back to our cosy van, albeit slightly steaming with our damp clothes and boots!

After a companionable evening meal, well lubricated with beer and wine, we braved the New Year’s Eve celebrations in the Woodside Suite – admittedly our hearts weren’t in it, and I was reluctant to leave Jim alone in the van (amid the storms and fireworks) – but it was pretty dire. So we came home to the van after one very expensive drink and happily snuggled down to watch The Godfather, and saw the New Year in with a friend’s Christmas gift of a lovely Damson gin – heaven!

Wednesday 1^st January 2014

The storm raged all night and the familiar spatter of rain on the van roof was joined by the flapping of the porch awning against the side of the van as it struggled to survive the power of the winds.  It lost the fight and mid-morning the Man had to brace himself and go outside to take it all down before it flew off and got lost forever in the grey scudding clouds. The weather was so bad we couldn’t do anything.  We couldn’t even go home.

Our plans to meet friends in Christchurch, and our dream of a brisk New Year’s day walk along the beach had all blown away so we sat in the van watching old films on TV with the occasional nap,  rousing only for crisps and dips, put on the kettle or open another can of lager – it was quite nice really. We ventured out briefly to stock up on bread and provisions only to find the camp shop had just closed….so we bought a bag of chips instead and retreated back into hibernation.

We haven’t showered and I have no make- up on. We have no Wifi access and apart from a couple of i-phone messages we have been completely cut off from civilisation – we’re practically savages! Mind you if I had to be stuckion a 3 x 5 metre metal box for 36 hours I couldn’t think of better companions than the Man and the Dog!

Thursday 2^nd Jan 2013

Typically the day dawned watery bright and relatively windless. Just in time for us to pack up and go home! Wonderful weather for a brisk walk along the beach, but also perfect van towing weather. It was a relief to get home and even though it wasn’t the New Year we’d planned it’s certainly one we’ll remember!

Hunter’s Moon, Wareham Friday 9th – Mon 12th November 2013

Friday 9^th November: We set off at lunchtime on Friday in torrential rain. But what else can we expect in the middle of November? We’d been keeping an eye on the weather forecast before we committed to a Winter weekend away, but quite frankly they have always been grossly inaccurate and you might as well just take a chance.  So we didn’t book this break until the day before – there’s not much chance that the sites will be fully booked at this time of year.

An easy 2 hour drive and we arrived between showers to set up camp. Each trip we learn something new and this time we had decided to use the porch awning that came as a job lot with the caravan.

This is much smaller than the full awning, so quicker to put up, less hazardous in high winds, but very useful in the wet weather.  We had already had two dress rehearsals to put up the porch and had been foxed both times – eventually realising that the tent poles weren’t long enough – how they had come to be included with the porch will remain a mystery, but the endeavour we undertook to get the correct poles deserves a whole chapter that I won’t go into here (but involved two garden centre visits, email correspondence and an Ebay exstravaganza!). After failing to execute a ‘hole in one’ caravan reversal onto the pitch, the man heroically took on the erection of the porch –  but the finished article looked slightly odd! Still smarting from the pitching failure, I didn’t feel I could criticise too much, but we think we need an extra couple of poles to make it ‘look right’. The neighbours might be sniggering at our incompetence but at least we have somewhere dry to take off our muddy boots, wet coats and rub down the dog – oh, and it’s a handy place to keep the beer and wine cold!

As is becoming a regular ritual – the evening meal proved a challenge. This time the knobs on the gas cooker had seized! No amount of coaxing would encourage them to turn to provide a much needed gas supply (except the grill switch), so the man’s plans to griddle the burgers had to be shelved – he was also concerned about the fate of the breakfast bacon, but at least the grill was working.  Good TV reception and the heater warming us up nicely meant we were still able to spend a cosy evening – and the grilled burgers were lovely!

Saturday 9^th November:  We awoke in the morning to the incessant drumming of rain on the roof of the van. Fast becoming a very familiar and depressing routine (note – the weather forecast last night was for a bright morning with rain coming later in the afternoon), there was nothing to do but stay in bed and as the shower block was closed for cleaning between 10:15 and 11:30 (surely the very time that most people need it!), we weren’t washed, dressed, fed and watered until midday – by which time the sun was struggling to shine, the sky half encouraging blue and half threatening grey.

We set off for Corfe Castle and were rewarded by a lovely wander around the ruined castle and quaint village. The rain held off, but the angry skies added to the drama of the imposing castle ruins up on the hill. We bit the bullet and joined the National Trust – saving ourselves £17 entry fee and truly entering the ‘middle aged anorak’ club! Now we are pouring over the Handbook wondering where else we can visit (and where car parks are free!).

After braving the winds of Corfe Castle and keeping the dog from close encounters with the resident sheep, we went to the lovely town of Swanage. We parked near the beach and Jim had a great time dashing up and down in the surf, sniffing and peeing on seaweed and playing with other likeminded doggy friends. We wandered around the town which had a number of bespoke shops that were a joy to poke around and then home to the van in the early dusk. Jim now utterly sold out on the couch!

Sunday 10^th November: What a joy to wake to the sun streaming through the steamy caravan windows! It was one of those gloriously bright crisp days where you just want to get out and about and the enjoy deep blue skies protected from the cold in warm coats and boots.

We set off quite early as we’d felt obliged to beat the 10:15 shower curfew, and were ready for the off at 10:30! Today’s plan was Lulworth Cove and Durdle Door. Lulworth cove was charming and I picked up one of my lovely OS maps that I relish pouring over to see where we’ve been and where we’re going. I have an endless fascination with maps and am building up quite a collection.

The views  at Lulworth were wonderful and the sun shining on the cobalt sea was mesmerising. We messed about a bit in the cove then took the walk up over Dingy Head to Durdle Door. My – that was a walk and a half! Very steep and taxing and when you got to the top you had to go all the way down the other side! – and there was the inevitable car park that was a stone’s throw from our final destination! It was worth it though. The views were wonderful and Durdle Door quite impressive. The walk back was equally taxing – especially on our poor knees and we were panting and sweating when we got back to the car!

So we felt well deserved of a pub lunch at the Crown Inn. A lovely old pub that welcomed dogs and gave us a gut busting ploughmans and moules marinier, with chips on the side.  Jim was kept relatively engaged under the table with a steady supply of cheese and chips!

The afternoon got cool quite quickly, so we headed for home and on our way we passed a road sign for Tyneham. I’d heard about this village that was taken over by the MOD in the war and never returned as promised to the residents. I had just read a book called The Novel in the Viola by Natasha Solomons, and it is set in Tyneham in the War – so I was really fascinated (the book is highly recommended reading).  The village was now derelict and situated in the heart of land restricted by the MOD for practicing army manoeuvres. There were signs all over the place warning of sudden gunshots and prohibiting entry in case you got shelled…! I thought that Tyneham was out of bounds but we were able to visit this sad little village and look around some of the remains of houses that still stood. Some had information about the village’s history, with testimony and photographs from some of the villagers descendants. It also happened to be the 70^th anniversary of the closure of the village and Remembrance Sunday – so there was a service going on in the little Church – very poignant I thought.

We set off back to our little warm van in the hastening dusk and increasing cold. Jim was once again happy to stretch out on the bed and go to sleep after his busy day, and we settled down with a glass of wine for me and lager for the man. After our huge lunch we weren’t too sure about tackling our evening meal, but ended up putting away a wonderful chicken casserole with jacket potatoes and bread, followed by chocolate pudding and ice cream….we’re going to need a bigger van!

More photos from Wareham can be seen at: http://www.flickr.com/photos/clooneyloon/sets/72157638012099466/

Third Time Lucky

Sandy Balls New Forest Holiday Village, Godshill, Fordingbridge.

Friday 11th October – Monday 14th October 2013

This is our third trip and we wanted to test our caravanning mettle to see if we could survive and enjoy an English Autumn/Winter weekend in the van. The weather forecast was awful, but we figured that we had shelter, food, a source of heat and appropriate outdoor wear…what could go wrong?

We’d heard a lot about Sandy Balls in the New Forest so booked a 3 night weekend break for mid-October. It was the weekend that saw the Indian Summer temperatures of the week before drop by 10 degrees and the rain storms sweep in from Northern Europe…but how were we to know?

We’re getting the packing and preparing down to tee and I’d even made a ’caravan cake’ the night before – a lovely apple shortbread. The New Forest is a convenient 90 min trip from home and we arrived just after lunch. Reception looked professional and was efficiently dealing with arrivals that included lodge residents, motor home owners and those of us that are towing our vans.  The weekend happened to be host to a rally for Auto Trail motor homes and our pitch was in the middle of a herd of enormous, spankingly white all inclusive vans! We felt like a rather scruffy duckling among a large flock of swans!  

Sandy Balls reminds me a bit of Centre Parcs, but the range of accommodation gives it a different feel. There are certain subtle character types associated with tent, caravan, motor home and lodge dwellers. I don’t think I’m going to go into it here for fear of offending someone  – but I’ll continue to develop my anthropological studies!

The humour of the name Sandy Balls has to be acknowledged here (and was one of the reasons we felt we had to visit). The holiday park is located on an estate between Godshill and Fordinbridge, and the name can be traced back to Henry VII where it was known as “Sandyballas”. The name refers to the dome-shaped sand and gravel outcrops on the western boundary of the site. Many of these outcrops remain, including ones called Good Friday Hill and Giant’s Grave (Wikipedia).

We settled in well the first afternoon. Happy to be drinking tea and eating our apple shortbread, warm and cosy in our van sheltered from the cold drizzle outside. We even got the TV aerial working! We only had about 6 channels but we were ridiculously content. The dog was happy to stand guard and let us know when any other dogs came within 50 metres!

The next day started dull and grey and after our usual hearty breakfast we set off for *** for a mooch about and then on to Barton on Sea to walk the along the beach. The weather was wonderful, warm and sunny and the walk along the beach was bracing and invigorating.

We walked along the pebble beach (which the dog doesn’t like much) to Milton on Sea, and then back along the cliff top. It was probably a 6 mile round trip and the dog certainly slept well that night!  The cliff tops are fairly precarious and I insisted on the dog going on the lead in case he ran off the edge, I’m sure the man thinks I’m being overprotective but I’ve heard that dogs regularly fall over the cliffs there – heart breaking.

Sunday started with a slight drizzle, but we’d decided to go for a walk and set off on one of the site’s recommended routes which would take us to Fordingbridge and back.

The drizzle continued, it got more persistent and then rain… we trudged through it for a couple of hours and it was pretty miserable. The dog was so wet and muddy when we got back that I had to give him a bath in the communal washing area. We all felt we deserved an indulgent afternoon, so we dried ourselves off, put on clean comfy clothes and napped in front of a DVD with the heater full on. We were quite content with our wet clothes gently steaming at the end of the van! The only fitting end to the day was a take away from the campsite pub – lovely.