I’m new to this caravanning malarkey. Not yet entirely convinced I’m a fan, I am trying, honestly, I am trying. The weather has been a mixed bag this month, typical Welsh summer, the South East of England is basking in 27 degree sunshine and Wales is struggling not to drown.
Fortunately, when those nice days come I am able to take full advantage thanks, in part, to being made redundant in July. Every cloud….
So we’re pitched up in a country park for August. It was the easiest thing to do given the fact that my car was far from guaranteed to arrive in time to allow us to drag a box on wheels behind us. Sod’s law though, the car ended up arriving the same day as the ‘van (as it appears to be referred do amongst the other wannabe pikeys).
I’ve amused myself for much of the week by chanting when I see people on their “walk of shame”, dragging their wheeled shit-tanks behind them to be emptied! “Walking the brown mile…. walking the brown mile… walking the brown mile!” – that will be wasted on those of you who are unfamiliar with the brilliant movie “The Green Mile”.
It’s 8pm now and it’s getting bloody cold again, after burning in the sun all afternoon I’m now sat in a coat because of the Arctic winds. Thanks Wales.
I’m off now, need to save my notes about fat bastards, toothless chavs and people with no sense of personal space for another day. Fuckknuckles.
themiseryguts 