The lush, verdant Basque countryside impresses and slightly surprises the casual visitor who had been expecting hues of a drier nature. The Atlantic sea mists and soft rain might feature in the misty eyed poetry of basque legend but when it chucks it down with rain on the day booked two months in advance for a guided mountainbike tour of the region, one is entitled to a certain tetchiness.
101 uses for a campervan #2
Send lemmings to their clifftop plunge in style by packing 27 family groups in the Teutonically practical interior before releasing the handbrake at the top of Beachy Head.
Monday, 3 May 2010
Monday, 26 April 2010
Bilbao/San Sebastian
0657 hours, P&O Liner Pride of Bilbao, Port of Bilbao: "Attention passengers, there is one vehicle that is currently holding up disembarkation for a section of the vessel. A silver VW van, registration number..." The shame. A section of the commuting public of Bilbao was then further held up by the same silver VW van maintaining a steady 40 mph in the left hand lane, which in its country of origin is the slow lane.
San Sebastian, official stop number 1. Despite the attractions of the beautiful Concha beach, golden sands framed by green mountains, there was only one attraction in town. Chloe. With her shock of white blonde/ginger hair, translucent celtic skin and eye catching stomp-with-arm-waving gait, she courted the crowds who stopped to pay homage to this alien looking creature by scowling and marching on. A contrast to her more self aware sister who treats such attention as her natural birthright but deigns at least to acknowledge the attention with a regal smile.
Chloe: the Basques have never seen anything like it.
San Sebastian, official stop number 1. Despite the attractions of the beautiful Concha beach, golden sands framed by green mountains, there was only one attraction in town. Chloe. With her shock of white blonde/ginger hair, translucent celtic skin and eye catching stomp-with-arm-waving gait, she courted the crowds who stopped to pay homage to this alien looking creature by scowling and marching on. A contrast to her more self aware sister who treats such attention as her natural birthright but deigns at least to acknowledge the attention with a regal smile.
Chloe: the Basques have never seen anything like it.
20th April Bay of Biscay
The Bay of Biscay is one of the world's hotspots for marine mammal watching, with 31 out of a global species count of over 80 cetacea. They positively swarm around the ship, competing inter species-ly to see whose spout gushes skywards the highest, who can win the census count, who can get the loudest Ooooh from the appreciative crowds with displays of aquatic exuberance. With every sailing on this route comes a guarantee of a plethora of charasmatic wildlife encounters to regale uninterested friends. First hand tales of oceans boiling with frolicing whales and dolphins. Literally teeming with species you've never heard of like the beaked whale. At least, that is what you would have been looking forward to had you attended the talk this morning run by the ship's wildlife officer who clearly starts the day with a couple of stiff scotches to wash down his hallucinogenic drugs. Before painting a sperm whale onto the lenses of the binoculars he passes to the captain in order to maintain his bridge occupation privileges. The Bay of Biscay is a wildlife desert.
Cabin life is not too bad despite 50 % of the occupants flagrantly disobeying the no solids to be passed in the the cabin rule.
Cabin life is not too bad despite 50 % of the occupants flagrantly disobeying the no solids to be passed in the the cabin rule.
Night #1 On The Ferry
Dear lord I'm married to someone who reads the periodical Practical Motorhome in bed.
Wednesday, 14 April 2010
The Large Pink Flower
Joyously, Laura has been given two oversized pink flower stickers for the van which she intends to attach ceremoniously in the presence of the remainder of the family's female majority later today. The sleek, battleship grey lines of the van will be sullied by two large pink symbols of emasculation.
Once it was a proud workhorse, with a stripped down practicality that would have sneered at such frivolousness. Now it will bear more than a passing resemblance to the Mystery Machine.
I suppose I can spend the next three months searching for the ghostly remnants of my dignity.
Once it was a proud workhorse, with a stripped down practicality that would have sneered at such frivolousness. Now it will bear more than a passing resemblance to the Mystery Machine.
I suppose I can spend the next three months searching for the ghostly remnants of my dignity.
Sunday, 4 April 2010
101 Alternative uses for a campervan
#1 Simply spray on a thick L shaped red stripe on both sides of the van and wow the next A-Team convention that sets up near your home. Or drive to one, you're in a campervan after all!
Note to mid 1980s toy manufacturers: there is no need to further add the words 'The A-team' to the side of the van since this compromises the authenticity and really would have made life very easy for Colonel Decker had it been replicated in real life.
Note to mid 1980s toy manufacturers: there is no need to further add the words 'The A-team' to the side of the van since this compromises the authenticity and really would have made life very easy for Colonel Decker had it been replicated in real life.
Friday, 2 April 2010
Suitability for residence test
The Easter bank holiday arrived at the perfect time, providing us with the chance to explore the facilities of the van and perform the basic tasks that will become our routine in two weeks. So we parked it up outside Laura's Dad's house for the weekend and stayed in the house.
Optimism reigns, however as the rather magnificent awning purchased from the plug-deserving campervantastic.com not only trebles the living space of the van, but is an easily detachable stand alone tent. This means that all extraneous junk, including children, can be deposited on arrival before heading off to the nearest beach in a cloud of blue diesel smoke.
What did become clear over the weekend during the thorough testing was:
- Campervanning poses no problems when one is parked on a spacious driveway and assumes residence of the nearest centrally heated dwelling.
- We don't need a second, electric, kettle to complement the gas one. Really Laura, we don't. We're in a campervan, you don't even have two kettles at home. The only possible contraption it is justifiable to have more than one of on a campervan trip is a bicycle. Mountain and road versions are necessary.
- In the space of 4 weeks, 244 miles and 0 sleepovers, the canopy has sustained more damage than in the previous 8 years, 2 owners and 50,000 miles.
Optimism reigns, however as the rather magnificent awning purchased from the plug-deserving campervantastic.com not only trebles the living space of the van, but is an easily detachable stand alone tent. This means that all extraneous junk, including children, can be deposited on arrival before heading off to the nearest beach in a cloud of blue diesel smoke.
What did become clear over the weekend during the thorough testing was:
- Campervanning poses no problems when one is parked on a spacious driveway and assumes residence of the nearest centrally heated dwelling.
- We don't need a second, electric, kettle to complement the gas one. Really Laura, we don't. We're in a campervan, you don't even have two kettles at home. The only possible contraption it is justifiable to have more than one of on a campervan trip is a bicycle. Mountain and road versions are necessary.
- In the space of 4 weeks, 244 miles and 0 sleepovers, the canopy has sustained more damage than in the previous 8 years, 2 owners and 50,000 miles.
The Road Test
The Urban Road Test
After a Maundy Thursday spent largely crawling into then out of the damp greyness of London, the following facts of relevance to our trip were established.
Handling: The VW is particularly adept at cornering at speeds below 8 mph. Tests above this speed were not possible.
Satnav: Our failure to procure a satnav in time for this dry-run did not prove to be the marriage breaker it was feared. With aplomb did Laura take us through the backstreets of south London. Her one failing was that she could not be reprogrammed to deliver the directions with the husky confidence of Joanna Lumley or the alluring sweetness of Natalie Portman. (memo to self: check spec of satnav on order).
Placement of children: Despite the superficial attraction of having the children a good three feet further back than in the standard family car, it turns out that (1) you can still hear them and (2) the visitation of punishment is rendered more difficult when they are out of reach. This decrease in authority when one is splayed horizontally across the intervening space in mid remonstration may require a logistical revisitation.
After a Maundy Thursday spent largely crawling into then out of the damp greyness of London, the following facts of relevance to our trip were established.
Handling: The VW is particularly adept at cornering at speeds below 8 mph. Tests above this speed were not possible.
Satnav: Our failure to procure a satnav in time for this dry-run did not prove to be the marriage breaker it was feared. With aplomb did Laura take us through the backstreets of south London. Her one failing was that she could not be reprogrammed to deliver the directions with the husky confidence of Joanna Lumley or the alluring sweetness of Natalie Portman. (memo to self: check spec of satnav on order).
Placement of children: Despite the superficial attraction of having the children a good three feet further back than in the standard family car, it turns out that (1) you can still hear them and (2) the visitation of punishment is rendered more difficult when they are out of reach. This decrease in authority when one is splayed horizontally across the intervening space in mid remonstration may require a logistical revisitation.
Wednesday, 31 March 2010
First Post
Disclaimer
The purpose of this weblog (or 'blog' in the parlance of the digitally enabled) is to save me the bother of writing postcards for 3 months. I realise the vanity of assuming anyone will actually read it, so reserve the right to update infrequently, grumpily and inaccurately with a view to painting my contributions in the best possible light while casting blame onto the shoulders of the innocent.
Background
On Monday 19th April 2010, Laura (Logistics manager, chef, Sat-Nav manager, budget holder, decision facilitator), Maddie (Cinderella, Rapunzel, general Princess impersonator, professional dress wearer), Chloe (takes no crap) and I (bicycle repairer, general scapegoat) will set off on the Portsmouth to Bilbao ferry for a 3 month trip around the beaches and towns of southern Europe.
To enable a dispassionate assessment of the success or otherwise of this venture, I record below my hopes for the impending 3 month liberation/imprisonment (delete as appropriate, actual description to be confirmed not less than 1 month from leaving Portsmouth, terms and conditions apply as per the below)
- Despite barely being able to contain their excitement at sleeping in the same room in a house for the past month, Maddie and Chloe have no difficulty adjusting to their new dormitory quarters in the roof of the van. The initial excitement of: their new furry sleep suits; Mum and Dad down below (look, you can see them if you peep over the edge); access to a light; sister within easy tickling/hitting reach; look, we're sleeping in a van; quickly wears off and within a day the whole family has uninterrupted slumber until birdsong gently caresses them from a light dreamstate at around 9 in the morning.
- Luckily Maddie sees the logic in continuing to wear a form of absorbent sleepware and at no point in the trip are Mummy and Daddy awakened by a trickle of ammoniacal liquid dripping from the loft sleeping quarters onto the sleeping adult forms below.
- Likewise, neither child suffers any condition that necessitates the rapid evacuation of stomach contents onto, or over, their elevated bed.
- Europe in general and campsites in particular are refreshingly free of dogs, with the turd generating, face licking, worm ridden pests confined to leading the partially sighted and conveying barrels of brandy to luckless mountaineers.
- Maddie, Chloe and Laura all recognise that the principal male role model in their lives requires and deserves the time and space for frequent mountainbike riding and willingly sacrifice the restaurant budget for guide fees.
- Inspired by the challenge of feeding a family of four on a micro cooker for 3 months, Laura swats aside all offers of help and using fresh, local produce rustles up a stunning variety of meals before shooing her husband off to the local tavern to unwind each evening.
- No one finds out about Laura's Caravan Club membership.
The purpose of this weblog (or 'blog' in the parlance of the digitally enabled) is to save me the bother of writing postcards for 3 months. I realise the vanity of assuming anyone will actually read it, so reserve the right to update infrequently, grumpily and inaccurately with a view to painting my contributions in the best possible light while casting blame onto the shoulders of the innocent.
Background
On Monday 19th April 2010, Laura (Logistics manager, chef, Sat-Nav manager, budget holder, decision facilitator), Maddie (Cinderella, Rapunzel, general Princess impersonator, professional dress wearer), Chloe (takes no crap) and I (bicycle repairer, general scapegoat) will set off on the Portsmouth to Bilbao ferry for a 3 month trip around the beaches and towns of southern Europe.
To enable a dispassionate assessment of the success or otherwise of this venture, I record below my hopes for the impending 3 month liberation/imprisonment (delete as appropriate, actual description to be confirmed not less than 1 month from leaving Portsmouth, terms and conditions apply as per the below)
- Despite barely being able to contain their excitement at sleeping in the same room in a house for the past month, Maddie and Chloe have no difficulty adjusting to their new dormitory quarters in the roof of the van. The initial excitement of: their new furry sleep suits; Mum and Dad down below (look, you can see them if you peep over the edge); access to a light; sister within easy tickling/hitting reach; look, we're sleeping in a van; quickly wears off and within a day the whole family has uninterrupted slumber until birdsong gently caresses them from a light dreamstate at around 9 in the morning.
- Luckily Maddie sees the logic in continuing to wear a form of absorbent sleepware and at no point in the trip are Mummy and Daddy awakened by a trickle of ammoniacal liquid dripping from the loft sleeping quarters onto the sleeping adult forms below.
- Likewise, neither child suffers any condition that necessitates the rapid evacuation of stomach contents onto, or over, their elevated bed.
- Europe in general and campsites in particular are refreshingly free of dogs, with the turd generating, face licking, worm ridden pests confined to leading the partially sighted and conveying barrels of brandy to luckless mountaineers.
- Maddie, Chloe and Laura all recognise that the principal male role model in their lives requires and deserves the time and space for frequent mountainbike riding and willingly sacrifice the restaurant budget for guide fees.
- Inspired by the challenge of feeding a family of four on a micro cooker for 3 months, Laura swats aside all offers of help and using fresh, local produce rustles up a stunning variety of meals before shooing her husband off to the local tavern to unwind each evening.
- No one finds out about Laura's Caravan Club membership.
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