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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The First Trip!

So our lovely van was finally ready! We picked her up last Thursday and began the big pack!

Finally after packing everything essential for a few days away we got on the road at lunchtime Friday.  This blog charts that first adventure.  I have to warn you now that it did not go quite according to plan...

Cut Short

It seems strange to start a blog with the end of the story but it will help to put the time scale into context.  Originally, the plan was to be away until Tuesday.  We'd stocked the fridge, filled the cupboards and brought all the clothing necessary for a normal bank holiday weekend in Britain.  That's right everything from bikinis and swimming shorts to waterproof trousers and jumpers.  

So much for the original plan.  By Saturday night we were back in Liverpool as Buttercup was chugging, spluttering and generally making it perfectly clear that she was NOT happy!  

The journey home was interesting to say the least.  Due to non-working indicators (she's having them mended as we speak), Dom and I had to utilise the human indicator function every time we needed to move. You may recall that the weather was not really conducive to opening a window and sticking your arm out.

Buttercup was vocal in her dislike of the hills of Derbyshire and refused point blank to go any faster than 20 miles an hour up hill with the accelerator firmly to the floor.  At one point the poor motorists of Derbyshire found themselves stuck behind not only us but a tractor as well!

The real highlight of the homeward journey was in Ashbourne where Buttercup decided to stall at the lights on a hill.  If you've ever driven a VW camper you'll know that the handbrake is in a weird place.  Basically, it sticks out of the lower part of the dash and when fully on is directly in the way of the gear stick and first gear.  Which is unfortunate as the gear most needed when the handbrake is on is of course first gear!  With much grappling, balancing of clutch, and spaghetti arms it is possible to move off quite smoothly but not when you stall and then discover the accelerator pedal has hit the deck! Picture the scene, a stream of traffic behind me, the accelerator pedal stuck to the floor, the handbrake and gear stick doing a dance and the prospect of not being able to get her going again.  I may have uttered a word or two that can't be repeated...

Luckily, Buttercup did restart despite Mr Impatient in the Audi TT behind us (Yes we broke down and got in your way but believe me it wasn't planned!) beeping and we got home in one piece.

But this isn't the whole story, this is just the setting of the scene. You see we were away for aprox 36 hours but as you are about to find out, it was packed with some weird and wonderful moments.  Enjoy!

Arbor Low

Having set off on our journey with Buttercup we were looking forward to trying out all the gadgets.  The first stumbling block was the fridge.  Dom had loaded the fridge with a small bottle of bubbles to toast Buttercup with the night before but for some reason, the leisure battery had taken exception to this.  Mmmm, we'll have to work out what we did wrong as with a fully charged leisure battery, the fridge should work for 36 hours without charging. Result - luke warm bubbles and a battery to charge up!

We didn't have any clear idea of where to drive to.  We literally got in the van, crossed the Runcorn Bridge and headed vaguely in the direction of the Peaks.  This is the true joy of a van.  You don't need a set route or destination.  Everything you need is with you apart from the toilet but more of that later.

As you may have sussed out by now, I am a bit of a hippy at heart.  Of no particular religious persuasion, I tend to describe myself as a Pagan (without the sacrifice bits!), Spiritual Hippy with Buddhist tendencies.  Make of that what you will but basically my maxim is treat each other well and look after the planet.  Imagine my glee when Arbor Low stone circle appeared on the map.  Even better it's English Heritage of which we are members.

This stone circle is quite literally in the middle of nowhere and you have to cross a farmer's land to get to it.  It's amazing to think that thousands of years ago, neolithic man used it as a centre for their ceremonies and life events.  Now there are just sheep and the occasional tourist to be awe struck by the surroundings. Either way, it seemed fitting that our first trip in the Hippy bus should include a visit to one of the most important stone circles in England.

Jamaica Inn

Moving on from Arbor Low we decided we should find somewhere to stop for the night.  Having checked out a few places we found a nice wide lay by across the road from a pub.  Perfect!  The last toilet break of the evening would be sorted and we could even enjoy a little drink in the process.

We quickly realised that the lay by was on a bit of slope to one side which meant that the pop top had a bit of a drunken lilt to it.  We also realised fairly quickly that we had chosen the only road in this quiet part of the country that was the equivalent of the M1.  Not only cars but trucks and tractors thundered past.  As I was standing up to get something, one truck drove past with such force that the pop top shook, wobbled then fell smartly down on my head! That's the second time that pop top has caused me damage...

We were starting to resign ourselves to a noisy night. But first we had to cook.  Dom, like many men, loves gadgets.  Tools, equipment, camping stuff all bring about a glow in his eye.  I can't stand cooking at the best of times so when Dom wanted to be the first to try the new cooker, I didn't stop him! With the aid of our newly fitted, swing out cooker (which has not been swung out yet due to wind, rain or both) we enjoyed a feast of Spaghetti carbonara washed down with a lovely glass or two of red. The sun was setting as we finished this feast, the van was relatively warm and we were feeling very satisfied.

 

          

About 9.15 we decided to head over to the pub and enjoy a drink before using their facilities.  As we walked up the side of the pub, I glanced in and saw several people enjoying a cosy drink. By the time we got to the door of the pub it was no later than 9.20.  9.20 and yet there was the unmistakable sound of a turning key.  We tried the door and it was locked!  The next instant, the door was unlocked and the landlord announced in less than friendly terms "We're closing!"

"Oh blimey are you?" I asked in a sort of surprised way but was considerably more surprised by his response of 

"What did you say?" which was uttered with a distinctly threatening undertone.

"Er I just wondered if you were open, I don't suppose I could just use your toilet could I?"  I knew this was a long shot but he did actually agree.

Leaving Dom to the mercies of the scary landlord I quickly slipped inside. Upon returning, I was very glad to see that my boyfriend was still alive and in one piece.  I don't think I've ever been so glad to leave a place in my life.

Something very dodgy going on there.  Don't know what and don't want to know either but it felt as if we were paying a visit to Jamaica Inn! (Great book by Daphne du Maurier)

It was precisely 9.35 by the time we got back to the van so the only thing to do was have another glass of red before turning in for the night.

Life in the Lay By

I can't pretend it was the best night's sleep I've ever had! The trucks seemed to hurtle past all night.  The tilt meant I spent most of the night squashed against the side of the storage. And then the rain started.  Not just light rain, but real, proper bouncing rain that even managed to drown out the sound of the traffic at times.  It was almost a relief to welcome daylight and decide to get up.

Having drawn back the curtains and enjoyed a bit of breakfast, it was time to think about moving on.  Buttercup isn't a fan of cold starting.  It's best to let her run for a few minutes before driving her so I started her up and hit the accelerator.

The cows in the next field obviously thought this was another cow calling them as they all started to head towards the fence.  First one, then two and then a whole row of them all looking at us as we looked at them. A couple of them even mooed in reply!  Just as we thought the whole field of cows was going to join us a welcome diversion in the form of a rabbit sent them running to the other side and we drove off before they could miss us.

Splutter, Cough, Cough

And not long after this, we felt Buttercup start to complain. We made it to Sudbury Hall and had a lovely morning there but by the time we had limped to Carsington Waters it was obvious that Buttercup's bad mood was not going to shift anytime soon.  Reluctantly, we headed for home.  And now she's back in the garage having her indicators sorted and hopefully her cough.  Fingers crossed we'll be back on the road in her this weekend...