After breakfast my task
was to tweak the storage arrangements in Mabel’s garage. The racking system
with 6 storage boxes we had purchased was a significant improvement on 2 years
ago when we stacked things in cheap plastic boxes on Myrtle’s garage floor. This
time we are able to use the full height of the garage and not have to tip
everything out to reach items stored on the floor. Also, by using bungee chords
attached to the racks we are able to store things like our camp stretchers,
picnic table, etc. vertically, again optimising the use of space.
Last task on Mabel was to
fit the adaptor to the lighting socket on her tow bar to convert it from the EU
13 pin electric socket to the UK 7 pin needed to connect Smarty’s electrics. It
wasn’t straightforward as a flange on the adaptor fouled Mabel’s body such that
the adaptor couldn’t be inserted in the socket. The problem was resolved by the
use of the Leatherman Harry and Ella gave me as a Christmas present. Using the
saw and file I was able to modify the flange such that it did fit. The
Leatherman has to be one of the most useful presents I have ever been given.
After that the only
outstanding preparation was to give Smarty a good clean externally, she had got
pretty grubby as a result of our travels around the UK.
An email arrived from
David Godfrey at DVLA. He’d managed to get to the bottom of the duplicate
registration numbers. It turns out the original application did end up with
another team thinking it was a standard registration and not an export. How incompetent
is that? Two weeks wasted because of the DVLA’s poor processes, but I think
Elite could have done better. Obviously, buying motorhomes free of VAT for
personal export is not something they are well versed in.
It was time I had a
haircut so I got out my electric trimmer. Unfortunately, the shield fell off
just as I started leaving me with a hairless stripe. There was nothing for it
but to cut the remainder to match.
 |
| New Hairstyle |
After our usual lunch of
bread, cheese, etc. we set off for two days of proving trials in Mabel. It was
just a short trip to the Caravan Club’s camp site at Moreton-In-Marsh in the
Cotswolds (a site we had passed on numerous occasions during our stay in the
Cotswolds last week). I drove all the way finding Mabel equally easy to drive
on two lane roads as she had been on the M40 and it hardly took any time at all
to adjust to her width and length.
At Moreton-In-Marsh we
had arranged to meet Robin and Vivian, a couple we had made friends with when
we were becalmed for several days just outside Cadiz in southern Spain in 2012,
That was while Smarty was being sorted out after a Moroccan petrol pump
attendant filled her with diesel. Robin and Vivian are nomads, travelling
Europe in their camper behind which they often tow a caravan if they are
planning to stay anywhere long term – they usually winter in southern Spain.
They also travel further afield using more conventional transport and will be
in New Zealand early 2015.
The arrival of two New
Zealanders at the camping grounds reception wasn’t unexpected as Robin and
Vivian had asked if we were there when they checked in earlier in the day. The
receptionist was very helpful giving us a map showing where Robin and Vivian
were and allocating us a pitch nearby. We sought out our friends as soon as we
had parked and unhitched Smarty for a quick hello and to arrange to meet later
in the afternoon. Then it was time to dump our grey waste and fill Mabel’s
fresh water tank for the first time. The former was easy – we just had to get
the drain valve close to a metal grill set in the road. The latter also didn’t
require much effort but took a long time before I noticed a stream of water
running across the road on the other side of Mabel. With Myrtle water
overflowed through the filler pipe, Mabel had an overflow hidden somewhere
beneath her. Knowledge stored away for the future.
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| Mabel and Smarty, Morton In Marsh |
It was good to catch up
with Robin and Vivian. After G and T’s in Mabel we took a short walk to the Inn
on the Marsh for dinner. Our waiter was a very sharp young man, probably 20
ish, with very quick and funny responses to anything we said. He sat down at
our table to take our order and, when we had finished our mains, he came and
sat down again helping himself to Robin’s left over chips. We found out his
name was Harry which he had shortened to Haz, he was studying sports science
and played and coached soccer.
Dinner was steak and ale
pie for me while Jane opted for salmon and dill fish cakes.
It was before 22:00
when we finished eating and started to walk back to the camp site. Robin and I
decided another drink was in order as we passed another pub. Unfortunately for
us, it was closed. Instead we had a few more drinks in Mabel.
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