So I've done some research and it turns out that while "vintage" is quite specifically defined "classic" gets applied to anything the owner deems cute over 20, or so, years old, hence fourth my best-up, rusty, loud, tank-o-camper shall be referred to as a "classic motorhome" and I'm coming for you in two tons of roaring steel if you gainsay me!
It seems it's impossible to own a "classic motorhome" without becoming a total nerd! In order to find out how tons of stuff, I don't have instructions for, work I have had to join the Auto Trail owners facebook group, and you can see me, to find out about, rust removal and silicone sealants, this reached an all time high when I got very excited about a very compact 10 meter hose I found for filling our water tanks, so excited I very nearly took a photo of it to send my mum! Then I suddenly realised that hoses are the second most boring thing in the universe (after politicians talking), nerd! Super nerd! 40 year old hose nerd!
I have now driven 100 miles in my "classic motorhome" and I'm learning about it, for example, don't leave a side window open and drive off! I did and the van attacked some trees and green stuff. When I got home I found it had chopped off a lot of tree which was all over, including an explosion of blackberries in a post atomic bomb splatter pattern, all over the top bed space, and no less than TWO surprisingly chilled out shield beetles! However driving the big vehicle is not as hard as I thought it would be, you have to give yourself time to stop, but from up high you see things coming a long way. Also people hang back and give you room. You know that thing where you have people up your bum being pushy because you won't jump out into a gap half the size of your car? That doesn't seem to happen when you are driving a three meter high, two ton tank, with a massive steel bar on the back. I think it's for one of these reasons:
1. They realise you can't fit in those gaps, nor accelerate enough to make it.
2. They realise it's in their interest not to mess with you.
3. They are going nuts back there but I can't see out the back too well!
We have now given notice on our house and I'm getting rid of our stuff for real. I've worked so so hard renovating the van and cleaning and packing and shifting furniture out.
Every now and then I am hit with sudden waves of mini fridge panic! I stroll into the kitchen and casually get some milk from the huge fridge, bigger than me, then I'm sized by the thought, "How can I feed a family of four out a fridge the size of four shoeboxes (at best)!" I've told my daughter we must all eat mini food now! She thought that was really funny, then we went to a cafe and they gave us mini honey pots with our porridge! It made her day, but I'm still telling myself "even if we live on chocolate spread, don't back out for a fridge!" I imagine being old and telling my grand kids, "I nearly had cool stories to tell you, I wanted to go to Seville, but I couldn't go without chilled orange juice!"
Nonsense for my kids:
The worlds going to go past this door dears, the world will go past this door.
Mountains, lakes, rivers and supermarket car parks. Slices of glittering ocean and dull little towns in the rain.
Places the kids speak Arabic, places it's Portuguese, don't worry you go armed with a couple of frisbees.
Long ago I sold my flute and it took me as far as Berlin, long ago an impulse "yes" took me to Poland and back.
I've never regretted those days dears, I've never wished for them back.
So let's bring you some big open skies dears, and some really good ice cream!
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