A wee reality check here. This motorhoming life is good and I love it but it also comes with its own set of obstacles and problems equalling, shall we say, more normal ways of living in this topsy turvy world of ours. Take this morning for instance. I'm at a small French Aire on the edge of 'Riberac' which between the storms last night I discovered has a dead campsite, a working abbattoir and from my short damp walk about the place not much else. It's still raining this morning and the ongoing investigation into Sadies LH front rattle has uncovered rather more serious problems which, and I touch wood here, will hopefully hold together until I get back to the UK. Not good and definitely decision time. So I swich my attention to Mrs Sat Nav and request she please calculate a 'speedy' main road, route North. "Route not found" is all her curt and precise feminine vocality will spit out. In a fit of petulance plus a small dose of 'poor me' I reply to her. "Thanks. Thanks for nothing. Like thanks Mrs S N for Not being there when I need you!"
There is one bright light. I've plenty of gas and need to lighten Sadie by jettisoning some water. What better way to do it than via a long hot shower. Then it's North, using good old paper maps again, unless, Mrs Sat Nav decides to wake up and navigate once we actually get moving. One can only hope and invoke Universal power to be kind and Universal mischief to lay off some.
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Well I am happy to report Universe has been kind to me today. Mrs Sat Nav did come back to life shortly after we started moving. However; she also had a fit of petulance and promptly directed us down the smallest road possible even though she was set for fast main roads.
So a bit more TLC (ie: re-setting her' bits') for the lady resulting in faster and less bumpy (equalling less rattles) main road travel. I much prefer our normal meandering and easy going pace down small roads but they are rougher and put more stress and strain on Sadie.
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Even better news now. I have stopped the omminous "I'm gonna seriously crack up on you in a minute' cracks and rattles. The structural problem I have unfortunately uncovered is still there and no less serious. But it is, I think, fixable. I cannot fix it permantly while on the road but with modified philips screwdriver, my well honed skills as a contortionist and a robust dialogue of poetic unrepeatable language I have effected a successful temporary fix.
Phew!!!
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So now here we are in the middle of a more relaxed morning at 'Haute Peniston'. Breakfast dishes are unwashed, as is myself, but with major disaster averted, for the moment, I have eased off slightly from panic mode. I am gazing out at the 'Moule' (mussell) farms comprised of rows and rows of stark black upright posts only viewable at low tide. Mr Moule and his numerous mates live and grow on these very posts. The morning is dull, misty in fact, but improving as the day ages. The tractors arriving early and towing their 'Moule farm working boats' woke me whereupon tea was brewed and slowly sipped as I leisurely watched the activity from my comfy bed.
Yes. I will miss you Sadie when you go. Yes. I am afraid so. She has to go. A decision had to be made and that decision is to trade Sadie in for a later model. I tell you I feel like a traitor just writing this down. Unfortunately the time has arrived. Sentiment has to be put firmly aside. I'll have enough of a job coping with difficult sentiment as I take the hit of a vastly reduced valuation due to 'the problem', which is, without doubt going to be picked up by any competant trader. It will mean severe compromise on my ideal 'Sadie number two. I could perhaps effect a quick fix, sell privately and maybe gain a few thousand. Ethically though; that is not me. Whatever I gain is not the immeasurable thousands I gain from having a clear, unfettered conscience.
I did call in to a French Motorhome dealer and had a look around. Veeeeery nice & much cheaper too. Need to research that option a bit more.
OK. Time for action. Not hurried though. My only deadline today is this afternoons Vetinary appointment for Tanya. She has to be checked and 'certificated' before we board the Cherbourg to Poole ferry next Monday evening. Then a few more clicks (kilometres) to 'Maure de Bretagne'. Which is where I am this very moment writing up this blog. Nice little Aire here. A Tanya Aire. In a park with a lake so loads of doggy sniffs. France in general from my observation is definitely looking a little run down. Certainly more so than when I first started my regular visiting five years ago. I admire the French workers in their struggle and I have a lot of time for how their country runs and how the population are more evenly distributed between rural and city. What to do I don't know but I hope they can sort it out without resort to too much violence.
Ferry booked so back in UK late Monday night. Bit of a different and uncertain time ahead of me but I still hope somehow to get round all my Grandchildren before years end.
Keep breathing deep & easy Steve.
Y'know y'self that if you do
Confusion plus all his mates pack their bags and leave.
