Falling Up a Stile in Style

This year, the weather has been particularly poor. Days of wind, rain, gloom and occasional sun. No two days have been alike. Even the hardy Brits amongst us have shunned the idea of leaving the house without a waterproof. But the joy of having a camper van is just taking to the road when the weather looks even a little bit promising. 

Friday afternoon we checked the weather forecast, collected Buttercup and packed our things. 

Since turning 40 last summer, I've been compiling a list of 40 things to do/places to go now I'm 40. One of the places I found out about recently that I've never visited is the Crook O'Lune near Quernmore. Despite spending numerous weekends around the Trough of Bowland as a child and my second year of University at Lancaster Uni, this little gem had passed me by... This became the destination for Friday night.

Having set off late to avoid the escaping rush hour and holiday traffic we pulled into a peaceful layby near The Crook. There were no streetlights and the sky was perfectly clear. As we lay on the bed looking out of Buttercup's rear window we had a fantastic view of the starscape. Even better, I saw my first ever shooting star. 

The following morning we awoke to glorious sun. The Crook O'Lune was calling. This really is a beautiful little spot. The car park (no overnight parking) is just £1 and there is a little information map and cafe. Heading down the path to the river you have many choices. Walk up stream or down stream on either side, the choice is yours. 

We chose to head upstream away from the picnic groups and the actual crook itself. Ambling down the steps to the path we soon found ourselves walking along the grassy path next to the river. As with most country paths, this soon led to a stile. I'm used to stiles. I've climbed many of them very successfully all my life. Today however proved a bit difficult. Don't ask me how because I just don't know, when lifting my right leg to step onto the stile I cracked (and I mean cracked) my right knee. It was like cracking your funny bone but on a whole other scale, involving me hopping on the spot and biting my lip. I'm sure the swans on the river thought I was slightly mad. Since then it has gone purple and now a kind of grey/black colour...lovely!

Back to the scenery. It really was lovely. The only sounds were the running water and the occasional groups of families enjoying the surroundings. We eventually came to another little crook where the water ran smoothly and I had no choice but to go for a paddle (in my wellies!) 

The sun shone down and the sound of the animals was the only noise. It was like an orchestra of sheep, cows and ducks.

As much as we could have stayed, our journey took us onwards to Haweswater in the Lakes. Another glorious spot and perfect for campervans. The car park is small but it is used as a base for many wild campers (mostly in tents) so there is no issue about where to stay. 

As the sun was still beaming down we set off once more for a walk. As we knew it was going to be a gentle stroll we'd packed some chocolate and wine for the way. 

Having chosen a path that we thought would lead us to the little beach area we soon found that the bridge across the river had long since collapsed. This left no option but to climb over a barbed wire fence and cross using the new bridge. I have to point out that at this point NO wine had been consumed! Dom being tall and leggy was able to negotiate the fence no problem. Now my turn. Dom very kindly took my hand to help me over the fence and using my right foot (that old enemy again) I pushed off from the fence post with such velocity that we both lost our balance and fell in a heap on the, thankfully, grassy ground. Bursting into laughter we picked ourselves up reassured ourselves that the wine and chocolate remained in one piece and set off once more.

I'm sure you'll agree it was worth it ...

Whenever we go for a little trip out in our lovely van I can't help but think how lucky we are. It really is the perfect way to see the countryside. You don't need a grand plan, just a vague idea of a destination. Half the fun is the journey. Until the next one, we'll bid you a fond farewell

Thanks for reading. You can find out more about Little Lamb Tales and Little Lamb Phonics by visiting http://littlelambpublishing.co.uk/ or https://www.facebook.com/littlelambtales?fref=ts

Unleash the Beast!

Last time I blogged, we'd had an eventful weekend in Wetton and Bedfordshire including hills, breakdowns and a wedding.

This blog sees us back in Wetton for the Toe Wrestling Festival! Yes, you read that correctly - toe wrestling. Surprisingly enough, the reaction from most people has been disbelief, laughter and downright curiosity. Prepare yourself for a guide to all things toe and foot related.

The Toe Wrestling Festival is not a new thing. The Royal Oak at Wetton had been the proud host of this event for several years. But like many local events, it grew to epic proportions and it was decided that the village simply couldn't cope. Enter Dom's friend Ian, the new landlord of The Royal Oak, who decided to bring back this quirky but undeniably fun festival.

We arrived as a group of six campers on the Friday night, enjoyed some fine ale and wine and took ourselves off to bed in preparation for the big event. In typical English summer style, the day dawned sunny, then cloudy, then hot, then cool. The bunting was erected, the marquee prepared with tables, mini-bar and kegs and the public started to arrive.

As my back is notoriously bad, I was the only one from our party who didn't enter the actual event. However, I did get a ring side seat and photographic evidence. 
First everyone's feet had to be examined by a chiropodist to make sure they were fit to take part (it's serious stuff!) 

Being seen by the chiropodist before us was a well built, muscular, bearded man draped with a Union Jack Flag. On the side of his right foot was a tattoo baring the words "Unleash the beast". It was pretty apparent that here was the Current World Record holder. 
As the men were called into the marquee, my poor other half Dom heard his name called out against none other than the beast himself. Locking big toes on the right foot and raising their left foot, the battle to force their opponent's right foot to the side began. It's fair to say, the round didn't take long! The event was then repeated on the left foot. Suffice to say, Dom did not come home with the flag. The Current World Record holder retained his Wetton title although the final between himself and a local musician was hard core and frantic. 

The girls in our group faired no better being paired against previous winners of the female title. Not surprisingly, the women's final was between said previous winners. In a game that surpassed the men's for excitement and grit, the final was eventually decided. The runner up left the field with a hobble! Toe Wrestling is not for the weak!

Buttercup's second trip to Wetton was just as eventful but for a very different reason. I can't help but wonder what will happen next time we come...

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A Weekend and a Half!

We've just got back and unpacked Buttercup from a weekend away. To say that it was eventful is a bit of an understatement so I thought I would share it with you.

A few months ago, my lovely friend Sarah invited Dom and I to her wedding. As I met her on a dive boat off the Australian coast I knew she wouldn't mind if we rocked up to her wedding in Buttercup. The staff at Newton Park Farm Barn http://www.newtonparkbarn.co.uk/ were kindness itself and said we could sleep in the van after the Reception. Perfect.

Then Dom's friend who is running The Royal Oak in Wetton http://www.royaloakwetton.co.uk/ invited us over so we decided to combine the two. 

Now as you have probably gathered by now, if you are lucky enough to own one of these lovely vehicles, patience is a virtue you must definitely acquire. There's no such thing as simply packing your bag, getting in the van and going. Instead Dom faced three hours of adjusting heating levers and other technical things before we were finally ready to go. 

Since we got her back from 81A, she's been running really well. She almost gallops along.  So as we were cruising towards the Runcorn Bridge with the sun shining, Dom decided to open the window. And that was the first of many little things that occurred to spice up the journey. The handle fell off and the window was left jammed open. We continued on the way...

We went cross country on good A roads as far as Leek. Once here, we encountered the only bit of bad traffic. Unfortunately, it was on a fairly steep hill (not Buttercup's favourite!). However, with just one minor incident of rolling backwards, fighting with the handbrake and first gear I managed to get through. From Leek we knew the roads were going to be small, narrow and winding. When I set off to someone's place for the first time, I tend to get in touch and ask them if there is a route they suggest. Dom is more gung ho than me in that respect and just likes to 'wing it'.  And so, having printed out a map of the MINOR roads that lead to the village of Wetton we followed a sign for Ford. 

"Don't worry" said Dom "All roads lead to Wetton."

I have to say here that the scenery was idyllic. The sun was shining down and the countryside looked beautiful. As we headed down a particularly steep valley I said 
"We'd better find another way back out tomorrow. It's all right going down, but I don't think Buttercup will make it back up!"
About two minutes after the words were out of my mouth and with absolutely no signs, warnings or otherwise the road performed a sharp hair pin and changed gradient to about 1:2! We'd been on a steady incline so I was in second gear anyway but as I hauled on the wheel and desperately hit the accelerator Buttercup ground to a stop refusing to move. Thankfully there was nothing behind us or coming towards us as we were stuck at the bottom of the hairpin itself at a precarious angle! I won't write what our thoughts or words were, I'm sure you can guess...

Gingerly, I tried lifting my foot from the brake and even though the handbrake was on we rolled backwards. With my foot firmly jammed on the brake, Dom took hold of the handbrake while I grappled with the first gear. Looking at each other we took a breath. Luckily I found the bite quickly, Dom took off the handbrake and with much squealing and protest, Buttercup set off up the hill. And then you have the awful dilemma, do you let her scream or risk second gear and stopping again. Thankfully I kept her in first because another hairpin appeared though thankfully not as steep. And with a huge sigh of relief from the two of us, and Buttercup, we made it. 

The gentle village of Wetton appeared on the horizon and we coasted into the village as if nothing had happened.

Wetton is a beautiful little village and the Royal Oak is most definitely the hub. Ian welcomed us warmly and showed us around. One of his regular visitors who camps at a local site had actually heard us coming up the valley. When he walked in he said to Ian 
"Ah I knew I'd heard a VW on that bend. It didn't sound too happy. It made it then!"

Back to the Royal Oak. This is a fantastic village pub and as it's a Free House, there is a good selection of real ale on tap. And as for the food, this was absolutely delicious! Plus, there is even a Gluten Free menu. The pub is dog friendly, children friendly and the staff are lovely. Ian is doing a great job with the pub and we can't wait to return for the Toe Wrestling Competition in July. You heard it here first!

The next day dawned with rain but thankfully we had mended the window last night with a trusty alan key. This meant we were up and away ahead of schedule to make sure we arrived at Sarah and Thomas' wedding with plenty of time to spare. Or so we thought....

It was Dom's turn at the wheel which meant I was left with the task of map reading. I'm rubbish at this. My sense of direction is shocking and I get travel sick if I look at the map for too long. I like to make sure the route is in my head before we set off but despite this we still (well obviously I mean me) managed to lose the road we wanted to be on. Originally, the plan was to avoid the M1 at all costs and pootle down the country roads. Plan B was put in to place and we joined the M1 just north of Leicester.

Motorways are not the places to enjoy a camper van of a certain age. Her sweet spot is about 55-60 mph so you certainly won't find us in the fast lane. However as there are permanent (so it seems) roadworks on the M1 that restrict everyone to 50mph we thought we'd fit in. However, an accident had reduced this to a slow crawl and eventual stop. Dom turned off the ignition and we waited for the road to clear. After about 5 minutes there seemed to be action but not however from us.

Dom turned the key - NOTHING! He turned again, still nothing. Brilliant! We suspected the battery and knew that a simple jump start would get us going but not without some help. There's no hard shoulder through this stretch of roadworks and the traffic including huge lorries was now trying to negotiate around us. Thoroughly worried that we would miss Sarah and Thomas' big day I phoned the AA. They were fabulous but couldn't rescue us from the inside lane. This would require the Highways Agency who would tow us to the nearest services where the AA would sort out the problem. I had visions of the wedding passing and even part of the night do before we got there but I couldn't have been more wrong. Just a couple of phone calls later they were on their way.

I cannot fault either the Highways or AA. Buttercup was loaded onto the back of the Highways lorry (which by coincidence was the same colour as Buttercup and the AA) and we were given an escort with lots of flashing lights to Watford Gap. "Aye, she's a lovely old bus you've got" the driver told us. "Yes she is, when she goes!" I replied!

Once at the services the AA took over. Well I say took over, you see by then Buttercup had decided to come out of her strop. The AA man turned the ignition and she fired up straight away!!! I KID YOU NOT! He checked her over and couldn't find the original cause. And so after a mere 30 minutes from my first phone call we were back on the road. The AA and Highways Agency were worth their weight in gold.

The journey continued but the clock was ticking too. The motor way was left behind and we were on the last leg. With ten minutes to go before the ceremony we pulled into a layby and hurriedly threw on our clothes. Any attempt at glamour and sophistication was flung out of the window. With the clock now racing ahead we rushed into the village, parked up and legged it down the road to the church. There were a cluster of villagers outside. 

"Has she arrived?" I called out?

"Yes, she's just gone in!" was the reply.

Feeling like extras in Four Weddings and a Funeral, Dom (who had just finished tying his tie) and I skidded into a pew at the rear of the church just in time for the vicar to welcome everyone! 

Phew! The wedding was lovely and we had made it!  And in the gap between the ceremony and the Reception I even had time to put on my jewellery and perfume. Blimey Buttercup you don't half know how to keep us on our toes. 

Next time we go away, we are hoping for something a little less frantic. We'll let you know how that goes....

Buttercup's Story Telling Début

The sun has been shining and it's definitely getting warmer as the camper season gets ready to begin. We've not blogged over the winter period as it would have made dull reading. We have taken her out for the odd day trip but nothing quite literally to write home about. Now, however, Buttercup has come out of hibernation and what has she been up to?

As ever with these lovely old vans there is always a bit of work that needs doing before the season can begin. Our to do list is always being added to but the last look included -

• the heating (we have none which is one of the reasons we've not pootled very far during winter)
• the carbs
• the side door to be re-hung
• shocks
• general prep for MOT

We took her back to MSC Prestige Motors in Burscough who gave us some good news - the shocks were fine and only bushes were required. Fantastic and big tick against that point on the list.

But as we all know, the world operates on yin and yang as we found out when we took her to 81a Volkswagen j81avdubs.co.uk to ask about the heating and a few other things. When we drove up the owner John had his head buried under about another 6 vans and we had to park around the corner a good 70 yards away. Despite this, his first words to us were "The exhaust sounds as if it's blowing". Those of the words of a man who has listened to many a VW camper van engine!

We booked her in for the following Tuesday as I needed her for her storytelling début at the Liverpool Food and Drink festival that weekend. Which brings me on to that very event.

When I first bought Buttercup it was purely for a hobby. A lovely old vehicle to pootle around the British Isles and if we got brave maybe even Europe.  It wasn't long before I saw her potential as a prop/aid to my storytelling facebook.com/littlelambtales. And so last weekend we spent two glorious days at the Food and Drink Festival in Sefton Park.

We arrived on Sunday morning and the park was shrouded in mist and grey cloud. This didn't look promising. Added to this the rain had come down heavily a couple of days before just in time for all the Porta-loos to arrive. Needless to say the site was very muddy and boggy in places. Even some of the up to date 4x4's were struggling with the mud in places. Gulp! Mud and old vehicles do not a happy marriage make.

Luckily, The Children's Zone was located in a relatively dry section of the site and I inched my way on in one piece. Having parked up I eyed up my pitch for the next two days. The ground was definitely not dry and inviting to sit on. Luckily, I had brought some picnic mats for just this dilemma. Sadly these didn't survive the day so on Sunday we had some lovely straw to sit on. The sun came out from behind the clouds and for two days, the festival buzzed with happy faces, delicious food and drink and entertainment galore.

Over the next two days, I told countless stories about food and eating. However, I spoke to just as many people about Buttercup. Children, parents, grandparents, previous owners, new owners, people who were considering being owners. They all came over to look at her, ask questions and peek inside. And I can't say I blame them, she's very pretty!

Buttercup's first festival was a success. But leaving the site did make me laugh. It is quite funny when other people have no understanding of what it's like to drive a vintage vehicle. People ask you to back her up a bit so they can get through without realising that finding reverse may just take a bit longer than their shiny new car. Buttercup's gearbox is great but she can get a bit grumpy if she's put in reverse before she's ready. "It's alright love, don't worry about  moving her now!" was the response of one stall owner. I only took about 30 seconds to find reverse honestly! And again, everyone driving new vans, pick ups, trucks etc has the benefit of power steering. Waiting for me to grapple with the wheel when they are used to full lock in 5 seconds was a new experience for some of them. That said, we soon cleared the site and were on our way home.  She did me proud and our adventures continue. Next stop a wedding in Bedfordshire.