How Harry became a 2-bike motorhome. How time and tide wait for no man (nor woman, nor bike)
and how Harry got ANOTHER bump. (Harry meets Mondeo-Man)
Lost track of days and dates, but this follows on from below. We made our way into Newton Abbott and began to think that maybe – just maybe Satnav might help at times like this. Some people aren’t good at giving directions to places they know well! But we rang the office of the bike people and a nice man came out to find us – we were within walking distance. Little bike OK now, after some major surgery, so we popped him (?) on the bike rack behind mine and set off followed by 2 bikes. Would we get round to using them?
We decided to travel north – following the Exe almost to its source, then down to Minehead. That was a lovely drive, very leafy and close to the river. Although we were crossing Exmoor National Park, according to the map, we were surprised that we didn’t climb significantly or reach open ground. At Minehead, time spent finding Tescos, which we knew was there, again led us to think ‘Satnav?’ but we found it, shopped and went on to Blue Anchor Bay where there’s a caravan park – two, even – just across the road from the sea. We booked in for our 3 nights, and united Harry with Harriette again. Issues with a mallet! Ours had come apart and attempts to super-glue it didn’t stand up to use. First neighbour to approach – yes, had a mallet, no problem. Went with him to get it; out popped little girl. “Hello!” says I, kneeling down to little-girl height, and before she’d said “Kylie” out popped not one, but two equally little boys, with identical features. 2-year-old triplets! Mum began by apologising, in advance, for the noise. I said “Thank you”. We enjoyed them, most of the time, but they did what 2-year-olds do from time to time, and they did it at three times the volume! And maybe three times the frequency. But they did settle at night time and slept on till after our wake-up time, so no big worry.
There was a breeze off the sea so the issue of the tapping on the roof had to be addressed. I’d bought a long tie-down kit in the hope that we could run it over the awning along the edge of the van roof. Seemed to work – at first. But that ‘breeze’ grew to quite a wind each afternoon and the awning came free and needed re-fixing. Then the wind dropped with the turn of the tide (more of that later) so the device was never really tested in a high wind during the night. I don’t think it will hold, unless a way can be found to secure the awning to the strap. … Velcro?
While we were setting up we found that the West Somerset Railway ran right past the site, but I was never really successful in catching an engine on photo directly between those two trees! See the smoke? Anyway, the railway was definitely to be the target for a day out. We extended our booking to five nights, and looked forward to the day when we have a little car attached to the van for days out on narrow lanes. But we’ll have to sell the old Box first!
But we did have two bikes! Fine day, beach not ideal for bathing but OK. So, bikes off the van, basic needs – including beach shelter, of course! – for 2 hours lazing about and off we go under ‘assisted’ pedalling to the far end of the promenade, at which point the road leaves the sea shore to climb over the cliffs, but a convenient ramp leads down to the beach. Down the ramp, a little way along, lock the bikes against the sea wall and set up the shelter on a sandy bit. After about 10 minutes I noticed that the sea, which had been ‘miles’ away, was a lot nearer. “Tide’s coming in” I said, “It’ll be here soon.” “No, it won’t” said Carol, or words to that effect. …. “Yes, it will! That last wave touched the bottom of the ramp!” SCRAMBLE! Never have two over 65s dismantled a beach shelter and got themselves and two bikes off a beach so efficiently! A family who had been having a barbie at the foot of the ramp offered help, but we managed – dodging the waves as they lapped round the ramp which within 10 minutes was 3 foot deep at the bottom and completely out of sight within the hour. Well, WE didn’t know!! Apparently the Bristol Channel has the second highest tidal variation IN THE WORLD! Someone should put a notice up ….
The day on the trains with a hop on / hop off ticket was lovely, and Blue Anchor Station IS the set of ‘The Ghost Train’ – barred windows, big table and only way in is off the platform (apart from possible secret ways out of the ticket office).
The plan for the last full day was to go to Minehead and fill up with diesel, visit a cider farm and the village of Dunster which we had come through on the way over from N. Abbott and thought worth a look. Obviously, Harry and Harriette had to be disconnected – not hard – and progress up towards the main road after waiting at the level crossing at Blue Anchor was very slow. Apparently there’d been an accident somewhere, a road was closed and tailbacks in all directions. Eventually things began to move, but Harry was slow up the hill – BANG-BANG! ‘What was that?’ Something / someone from that well known spot on the road, ‘nowhere’, had hit us. An immediate pull up was impossible because of the (lack of) width of the road but we stopped at the next gateway and found we’d lost the offside front wing indicator, which protrudes, and there was damage to the bodywork behind the cab. While we were studying that, a car pulls up behind with a smashed O/S mirror and a crumpled wheel arch. I didn’t notice at first that it was a MONDEO. Yes, we’d had a brush with Mondeo-Man. We were creating a fairly dangerous obstruction in spite of the gateway, so I directed traffic while Carol exchanged details with the ‘3rd party’. That done, the visit to Minehead became not only the refuelling trip as planned, but ‘hunt the Ford dealer’ as well. They were very helpful and arranged for us to pick up a replacement indicator assembly at the dealer’s in Taunton on the way to the motorway next day. We had a late lunch beside the sea and still visited the cider farm for cream tea and cider tasting.
We even fitted in the visit to Dunster ‘on the way’ to Taunton next morning, after an early getaway and a full breakfast, al fresco, overlooking the bay at the cafe beside the station. This is Dunster:
Last day; Dunster is a very pretty village.
The Yarn Market, obviously.
The dealer at Taunton – yes, Satnav needed! – supplied the indicator but couldn’t fit it. At first, wouldn’t, but Carol pleaded and someone came out to help; however, essential ‘lugs’ had been snapped and internal screws were too inaccessible to fix the whole assembly, so I taped it on. Carol was sceptical, but it’s still in place a month later!
The rest of the journey home was uneventful, fortunately …… heigho!
Footnote: When we got home, we were delighted to find that the new doors (gates) had been delivered and fitted – that day – so we were able to tuck Harry up safely (we hope) behind them!
to the BOX.
First we had to attend to the paperwork; then we did the handover tour – then none of us could find the keys! Who had them last? The drizzle was now a heavy shower ….. The keys were in the driver’s door!
Stephen's space 