Monday saw a grey start to the day again in the field in Catcott, but Buster and Jez were having a lovely time catching up with each other and their motorhome adventures. Jez, the Supersonic Adria was very happy as he had just found out that day, that Katherine and James were able to keep him, after finding an expat motor insurance for him. So, for Jez he will be heading back to Crete quite soon.
We left the boys recounting their exploits to each other, or more likely our exploits with them and how we might or might not be mistreating them, and with thankfully the availability of Katherine and James car, we were able to continue our exploration of the area and a bit further this day into Bath.
Bath, is a World heritage site and the largest city in the county of Somerset and is of course known and named after its Roman built baths. Baths are of course my favourite thing, and my once-a-year special is coming up soon, so we just took in the view of them from the outside. I have been to Bath a few times before, and it’s a delightful place. Katherine was our tour guide for that day on our walk around the city. Unfortunately, someone needs to teach the Park and Ride drivers a bit more about customer service after pulling away from the bus stop and leaving the fifteen or so ‘customers’ at the stop to wait for the next bus. It did give us all some degree of amusement if not amazement!
Tuesday, after a few hours of retail therapy and shopping requirements, making the most of car ease manoeuvring, we said our goodbyes to Katherine and James, plus to our two god-dogs, all of whom we have missed since parting on our travels over a year ago, but it was joyous to catch up again, missing of course Danny and Lisa.
Next stop was Shaftesbury, a beautiful town, made famous of course by the young delivery boy, his bike and the near vertical Gold Hill. The drive there, with me at the wheel of Buster was thankfully made on the larger A roads, without the Sat Nav taking us down any single tracks.
The sun was shining and again the countryside of England was simply glorious. We arrived at Blackmore Vale Caravan and Camping Park early afternoon, pulling up at the sales part just literally yards from the A30. The site for our parking wasn’t obvious unless it was to be amongst the ‘for sale’ caravans and nor was any reception obvious. David took to his phone to confirm location along with the booking references. There was then a few swear words, with me saying “what’s wrong dearest, do tell”. Rather sheepishly, he explained that he had booked a Blackmore Vale site in Worcester, some 100 odd miles away, and paid for it. Oops! I had said all along that we had only made a telephone confirmation for this one and this was proved correct when we found reception and site at the back of the sales area, and the man welcomed us, ticking us off on his check in sheet.
It was lucky he was welcoming as he then had to tow us up onto our chocks after we wheel spun on the soft muddy ground. After setting up, with the afternoon still being nice, we took to our bikes and headed to Shaftesbury. The first part of this cycle and very much the downside of this site was we had to negotiate a small section of the busy A30, before tracking the small single road that headed up to hilltop of the town. The young Hovis delivery boy was actually lying I feel about his round, as before we even got to Gold Hill, we both were completely puffed after a mile long uphill stretch that took full power and low gear. Having said that, David did of course have to prove the poor young lad wrong and again with full power and low gear made it to the top of Gold Hill as shown in the advert. I however, did recreate the advert and opted to push my bike up, which given the weight of electric bikes and the slippery cobbles was my weight training done for the day. The town is absolutely quaint, with cute, quirky individual shops, a lovely choice of traditional English pubs, where David was able to sample a few different ales.
However cute Shaftesbury was, we both felt that we might have overbooked our days on this particular site and if indeed we had had the flexibility of Aires, we probably would have moved on, as for this particular site you really needed a car to get around and do anything. The A30 making any of the cycling, walking we like to do very hard, and with soft grass the moving of Buster on a daily basis wasn’t practical. That all said, we were both super happy as our friends Debs, Dave and Patsy were coming to visit us, having found a B&B in the nearby village of Mere. So once again, we with the aid of local taxi’s and Dave’s car were able to spend two lovely evenings with them, recounting all our various tales and of course the ever present Covid stories.
We are ending this busy bee week spending more time with lovely family and friends in Plumpton, East Sussex. The reunion is extra special for us as we are being reunited with our delightful furry rescue -Pino the cat, who is now living happily with Dot, Liz and Keith in Plumpton. We are also lucky as we are getting to house sit as well as Pino sit, while they take a staycation. Pino loves the huge garden, seeing it as his whole hunting area along with the nearby fields, but also delights in having the comfort of regular food and a lovely soft bed to rest his weary head when the hunting of mice becomes just a bit too much.
We are of course making the most of the house, arriving like university students with bundles of dirty washing. Plumpton is a lovely spot in East Sussex and close enough for us again to catch up with friends and family during the week, whilst having quality Pino time.
It’s a lovely Uk English summers Sunday evening, with the rain hammering down on the sky light as we blog. Pino is snoozing happily on a kitchen chair, surrounded by washing airing. Plus, after counting our coffers, we are both secure in the knowledge that if times get hard financially, David will be able to takeover that bloody lazy boys bread round, as he did after all get up the Hovis Hill on his bike!
Michael Ross says
Dear Karen and David,
The description of your tour round Englande, commencing in Bath, puts me in mind, forsooth, of The Expedition of Humphry Clinker by Tobias Smollett, published exactly 250 years ago to this daye, 1771.
If I have wronged you in this, may I beg your pardon for the egregious mistake of your eager reader but humble writer,
Michael Ross
Gilda Baxter says
Bath is always a great place to visit. Lovely seeing you enjoying time with Pino.