My home from home
OH BOY. ONE hour into owning our new caravan and I’m already in trouble. “No extreme caravanning in this one,” says my wife as we set off down the dual carriageway on our journey home. The problem is not to do with anything I’ve done recently. Far from it. I’m actually in her temporary good books, having just bought the caravan of her dreams. No, the problem goes back to a traumatic experience a few years ago. For the avoidance of any doubt, and in my own defence, all previous ‘extreme caravanning’ experiences have not been my fault. I just happened to be driving at the time, and my wife considered that enough evidence to apportion blame. We were on our way down to Devon for a few days in the caravan and I’d followed my faithful sat-nav’s instructions to take a short-cut. “The road is getting very narrow,” observes my wife. “And very, very hilly!” “This is the way the sat-nav is directing us, dear,” I say, nervously. To add to my predicament, sure enough, the road gets narrower and hillier. Before long we are climbing a 1-in-4 that’s looking increasingly like the Cresta Run. And the atmosphere inside the car is becoming suitably ice-cold. “Do you have some kind of a death wish?” spits my wife, apocalyptically. “Stick to the main roads, I said,” she reminds me. “None of your silly short cuts.” “But it looked as though it would slice off a huge corner,” I whimper. “This is supposed to be a relaxing start to our holiday,” she fumes, “and now look where we are!” To be fair, it was hard to look anywhere, as the roadside hedges were so close to the side windows, they obscured any kind of a view, and, in fact, pretty much everything. “Hmm, yes, it is getting a bit snug,” I say, rather ill-advisedly. “Snug?” she foams. “Snug?” she explodes. “Are you doing this to the family deliberately? Or are you trying to invent a new reality TV show, ‘Extreme Caravanning’, where the poor contestants have to endure increasingly unpleasant and soul-destroying challenges?” And so it was that the term ‘extreme caravanning’ made its first appearance. Meanwhile, back up-to-date and, “So, none of that, OK?” repeats my wife as we begin our latest journey. Just then Google Maps flashes up a big delay on our previously planned route. “Oh look, it’s calculating an alternative,” I say, cheerily. Ten minutes later, we’re heading down an increasingly narrow country lane and my life is starting to flash before my eyes… Visit Martin’s website www.martinroberts.co.uk for information about him, his books and his property training weekends, and follow his adventures on Twitter @Tvmartinroberts