The Stuff You Forget

east ord country caravan park

This is a blog hijacking!

My name is Adrian. I am the son of Margaret, your usual blog hostess, and am the current occupier of the aforementioned’s motorhome. We, my family and I, are on a short break at East Ord Country Park, a lovely site in Northumberland, England. As far as motorhoming goes I am not hugely experienced, with only a few trips under my belt. Because of this there are certain things that I forget on every trip.

It seems that every time we go away in the motorhome there are certain things which are not only annoying, but happen every time; probably because we don’t go away often enough to remember about them. These are fairly inconsequential, but are still the sort of things that make you curse under your breath, when the kids are around, or swear out load when there’s nobody around to hear. Here’s a few examples…

Cupboards Are Spring Loaded

Every time you move the motorhome, either going down the site to the service point or going off-site on a day trip, the contents of the first cupboard you open will almost certainly empty onto your head, or the floor. Cue swearing, tutting or rolling of the eyes.

The Cutlery Drawer Has a Mind Of It’s Own

Your cutlery draw slides open when you go round the first roundabout or sharp bend. This seems to be a classic. Somehow you always forget to lock the cutlery draw. You think you are all set and drive off with a smug smile on your face, pleased that you have remembered to wind down the TV antenna and you’ve unplugged the electrics. Then, five minutes in to your journey. Whoosh, bang and the cutlery draw slides open with a clatter and a spoon or two land on the floor.

You Always Pack Too Much

Motorhomes are, in most cases, smaller than you remember them being. Especially when you are not a frequent ‘homer’, like us. This equates to us always taking more food, clothes, kids toys and adults’ toys for that matter (not that kind – perv!), than are necessary. Trying to find space for all our excess crap in the small storage compartments is virtually impossible. Even in Margaret and Shirley’s extra-large, deluxe motorhome.

There’s No Such Thing As a Free Shower

I may not be very experienced in the ways of the motorhome, but a lifetime of showers on camping and caravan sites has taught me a thing or two about toilet blocks. There are two kinds of shower…

The first involves feeding a meter with coins. This used to be fifty-pence pieces, but is now, quite often, pound coins. This gives you around two minutes of hot water for your shower. And so the race to get your hair and body washed, before the time runs out, begins. However two minutes is never enough and you end up putting another coin in. However, because you have been hurrying to get showered within the first two minutes, you only need another thirty seconds to finish rinsing off the remaining soap or shampoo and end up with another minute and a half of hot water that you don’t need.

The second is where there is no metered hot water, just a push-button shower; as found in most swimming pool changing rooms. These are the best kind. You can stand as long as you like basking in the ample deluge of hot water. However, beware the motion activated lights! After a few minutes of showering, and humming whatever tune is in your head at the time, you are suddenly plunged into darkness. Ironically no amount of arm waving and dancing in your cubicle ever triggers the motion sensors. You need to either dress in the dark or leave your cubicle wrapped in a towel to get the lights to come back on; hoping nobody comes in and catches you doing the special dance you do to get the lights to come back on.

Big is Beautiful, but Small is Serendipitous

These minor annoyances discussed above soon dissappear into insignificance. After a couple of hours of being on-pitch, or parked in your favourite, secret loch-side parking spot, something magical happens. You enter a calm, serendipitous head-space that only motorhoming or caravaning can bring. There is something inexplicably wonderful about the sense of freedom that comes from leaving work and home stress behind and driving somewhere new with your mini home-in-a-box, your favourite people and a few tasty treats.

There is, though, one thing I never forget; I always feel blessed that I have such wonderful, generous Mums who lend us their lovely motorhome in which we can go gallivanting around the country in. We always have a wonderful time and never want to go home.

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