Let's get this show on the road!

My counselling session with my last client of the day ended at 7.30pm and at eight o'clock, we were on the road, first to extricate the RV from its resting place, then to begin our journey to Bristol to visit Dad. By half past midnight, we had reached last service station on the M5 before the turn off onto the M4 and pulled up in the lorry/caravan park for the night. A peaceful night's sleep and we were ready for the last few miles. The ring road taking us past Asda, we decided we might as well fuel up for tomorrow's journey to Dover there and then and so we did.
An interesting experience, fuelling the RV. For one thing, it has to be a fuel station that is wide enough between rows of pumps and ideally, one which is drive-through. This one was except that the drive through bit was rather on the narrow side, although there was an open gate just at the back of us which would take us straight back onto the road. So I explained to the nice lady on the till that this is how we would leave and that I would come and pay her when we had filled up, rather than attempt to squeeze past her kiosk and she readily understood the logic of that.
It's amusing to watch people's reactions to this beast of the road. Some squint at it sideways, pretending that they are not really looking at all, while others apparently ignore it completely, which does make one wonder about the results of their last field vision test, and some just gaze open-mouthed. You can almost lip read their thoughts.
"What do 'e think he'm doing bringin' that thing down they narrow roads, then?" (Imagine the broad Bristolian accent if you will.)
Then there was the young lady who pulled up right behind us just as Keith was about to reverse. I signalled to her that we needed to back out and she looked at me in disbelief, before reluctantly backing her car about two feet. Eventually, the penny dropped and she reversed some more and drove over to the next row of pumps, possibly helped in her decision by Keith revving the engine as if he intended to gently edge her out of the way if she didn't move quick sharp.
All good fun!
Tomorrow, we're off back to France and Giles is looking after the house and - I hope - keeping my potatoes and tomatoes watered, if the rain doesn't do it for him.


6 comments:

Silverback said...

Bon chance and all that good stuff.
Post often with lots of piccies please. Especially when you get the MH to a McDonalds drive through (cuisses de grenouille et pommes frites s'il vous plait - et supersize les)

Hey does taking your motorised behemoth abroad constitute moving house ?

Anonymous said...

Jenny, I just forced the spectacles upon Mum's face (she doesn't even recognise her own family without them !) and showed her your new motor home on t'internet. Her glasses almost fell off her nose as she jumped back in her seat and shouted "Good God ! She's a rum bugger, isn't she ! Mind you, I don't bloody blame her !" (Welsh translation = I think you have the approval of 'Chez Matthias' !) Happy travelling x Craigy Baby !

Yorkshire Pudding said...

It's like a scene out of "The Grapes of Wrath". Bon vacances deux! I hope the French peasantry have been informed of the forthcoming deuxieme invasion.

Daphne said...

Qu'est-ce que c'est le RV? (since everyone else has gone all Franglais on me) Comme un Beetlebus, mais plus grand? Ou quoi?

Arthur Clewley said...

I don't know what RV stands for but it looks like one of those big caravany type thing that round here usually seem to be driven by germans so it should stand you in good stead for an unimpeeded advance through france jenny

Daphne said...

I know now! It means Recreational Vehicle! (Thank you, Silverback.) And "big caravany type thing" is what it's like, Mr Clewley. I think the driven-by-Germans part of the definition is optional.

Plaster board and dust

So, we're still no further forward on the British Gas smart meter front and I've given up making non-existent appointments with them...