Rain, Sleet, Snow, Ice.....and Sun

Drove up in driving rain, keeping a respectful 60mph distance between me and a lorry for three comforting hours. The lorry acting as the leader along a very wet, sleety M40. Arrived at the Withal just off M42 campsite just after six i.e. just as it was closing for the night, just as the snow started to lay - a perfect combination: here's the access card, no time to sign in, park anywhere, pay tomorrow.

The snow turned to sleet then to rain as we pitched and just to add spice to the set up  E decided to put the canopy up, despite the lack of sun,  arguing it gave protection form the rain when going to the toilet at night!

Eventually settled down to an excellent cold meal, in the warmth of the Bongo, of ham & turkey salad (big thanks to Estelle E's sister for her cooking) with a selection  of cheeses and chocolates ( Ferrero Rocher®) washed down with a very nice Vintage Cava. All snug in Bongo, with the heater courtesy of the hook-up & a 2W fan heater.

Woke to find we are not alone. Although not full there were sufficient caravans and campervans for us not to feel lonely. One even had lights to add a bit of festive cheer!

More on Folkestone's East Cliff

Folkestone's East Cliff has inspired Ebun to paint Folkestone and its cliffs as that was her childhood home:

Ware Bay Crescent Unfinished, (2104), oil on canvas, 150cm by 50 cm 

For more on Ebun's work check out her website , while here is the seascape that inspired Ware Bay Crescent  :

Christmas Eve Eve, Folkestone

Here we are wild camping on the East Cliff at Folkestone. Absolutely superb. What a view ?!

Breakfast of coffee & chocolate biscuits reading a book wrapped in the duvet&sleeping bags. Brings back memories of all that was good about the trip this summer. Big Views & Big Horizons - BVBH - almost everywhere we stayed. Quite the opposite of terraced house living & commuter train travelling in London. 

The longing for BVBH apparent touches a primeval nerve, dating back to when Men&Women walked on the plains of Africa as hunters. It makes sense that there's some Neanderthal emotional connection as we still have physical connections with our wandering, hunting ancestors  thru vestigial organs like the gall bladder. Then there's that fear of snakes&spiders many of us have; some argue it dates back to the caves our Neanderthal ancestors sort protection in. They were alarmed to surprise a sinister looking snake or spider in those dark recesses. 

So, no wonder BVBH are so important - a primeval memory that is with us to this day.

BTW those cliffs are real dangerous....

It's late September......

It’s late September and the Bongo is in yet another field, this time the other side of the United Kingdom in rural Devon – well four miles from the centre of Plymouth - the weather continues to be glorious.

After  clear nights  the days start  chilly, with a heavy dew on the grass but soon warming up by mid morning ; the day starts with the fleece and T-shirt by mid morning it’s just the T-shirt.

Yes it’s the countryside and quiet but not that deep, somber, soul searching quiet of Unst:  I can hear the hum of the distant A38, the rustle of the leaves of trees & hedges in the breeze, the constant hum of harvesting tractors the size of buses dragging trailers the size of houses full of green stuff  across the field.

Britain by Bongo, when I left Abbey Wood in early July, was meant to be a travel log instead it’s turned out to be reflections on and contrasts of the places visited and the people seen and met.

Set aside the Orwellian organisation of Caravan Club sites:  securely gated & completely  fenced communities, exact rules on positioning in the pitch, strict enforcement 5mph speed limit, signs on everything, instructions everywhere & on everything, strict arrival and departure times&procedures, FIFO. However after a few days of wild camping: no electricity, no running water, no toilet, no shower a CC site was often very welcome in spite of its conventions.

The people I’ve met on this journey have been universally brilliant without exception I know that’s a big statement but it’s a fact.

Had some great nights&times eating, drinking and talking long in to the night as we share experiences of and sort out children, parents, partners, wives, husbands, caravans, campervans, banks, pensions, work, art , culture life the universe and everything.

As for the places set aside Unst and Dentadale aside as they left such a deep, lasting impression – hugely deeper and longer lasting than any of the other places visited – all the rest have been good to great.

Unst's Aesthetic

As ever this blog is out of time and sequence as things are happening so quickly.

Here in Liverpool two weeks after visiting Unst I’m about to write about the visit there. I’m finding I need that time to really reflect on the place. The more profound the impact the longer it perhaps takes to write about,  Unst was one of the most profoundly moving places I have ever visited – period.

Unst’s landscape and silence leaves a deep impression. The visit coincided with the most glorious sunny weather, the normal weather is wind or rain and most often wind and rain evidenced by the total lack of trees and the bleak open undulating landscape covered in grasses , mosses some ferns and heathers.

We took the Ferry from Aberdeen  leaving the Bongo behind at the Airport car park,  at the airport as it just wouldn’t  fit in the Ferry’s carpark. The sea crossing was for me fine, sadly Ebun was quite seasick.

It was odd to look at the weather forecast for the crossing to see the trip would take us thru Cromarty  and Fair Isles,  how often have I heard them  mentioned on Radio 4’s late night shipping forecast, sounding almost like poetry:

Viking, North Utsire, South UtsireForties, Cromarty, Forth, Tyne, DoggerFisher, German Bight, Humber, ThamesDover, Wight, Portland, PlymouthBiscay, Trafalgar, FitzRoy, Sole, LundyFastnet, Irish Sea, Shannon, RockallMalin, Hebrides, Bailey, Fair Isle, Faeroes, Southeast Iceland, 

I hadn’t prepared my self for the size Shetland (note it’s not The Shetlands or Shetland Isles simply Shetland – this was pointed out to me very clearly!). It’s almost  three hours by car from one end to the other involving two ferries.

While staying on Unst the last island in the British Isles we spent some time purposefully visiting the last XXX in the British Isles where XXX = Pub, Post Office, Beach.  In fact I did my Ice Bucket challenge on Britain’s remotest beach.

Life seemed to slow down on Unst with everything a little simpler and less hustled. From the petrol station - one pump pay at the shop – to the friendly acknowledgement received from every one, even passing motorists.

A walk on Unst was the antithesis of a walk in central London.

Central London has its very own aesthetic created by the density and variety of its buildings, its people, its transport systems , Unst’s aesthetic emotional response is the exact opposite to the acute arousal and intense awareness stimulated by all that makes central London. The difference is more than just city versus country as central London & Unst  are extremes Unst’s silence is way beyond the simple clichéd  ‘quiet of the country side’. It’s isolating.  It’s dense. It’s intense. It’s nature’s sensory depravation where all you’re left with is yourself & nature - a great experience.

....and then there was Dentdale a bit of Shetland - with trees -  in England.

Unst Dentdale Sans Trees&Water

Couldn't  believe just how remarkably Shetland's Unst was like Yorkshire Dale's Dentdale 'only' differences are Unst has the water while Dentdale has the trees&bushes:

UNST

DENTDALE

Sheds and Dolls' Houses and Caravan Sites

Wild Camping North Berwick

Caravan Site Camping Banchory

Having wild camped  in Scotland – no fresh water, no hookup aka no electricity , no toilet, no shower , no order – as well as time on Caravan Club Sites – freshwater, hookup aka electricity, toilets, showers , order (much order!).

I think I’ve finally sussed out what caravans&campervans are all about. They are  where the husband’s shed meets the wife’s dolls’ house.

The men do all the things they do in their sheds; organize, arrange storage systems for all kinds of stuff and generally move things around trying to keep everything in order with a Heath Robinson feel as to how things work and fit together. While the women busy themselves creating their ideal little home from home; creating order in a confined neat & tidy space , homely touches from plant pots to lace curtains to lampstands.

For both the men & women their area of caravan/campervan expertise & competence & control requires daily maintenance– fiddling moving, refreshing, filling, emptying, even policing - leaving time at the end of the day to sit outside on one of their two chairs separated by a table on the sunny side of the caravan/campervan enjoying the evening sun and a glass or cup of something nice – chatting, knitting, reading , writing or just sitting.

A MotorwayService Area 

View from North Berwick

Then it’s all taken down in reverse order only to be reassembled at another site some miles down the road and the game of sheds&dolls' houses aka Caravan&Campvanjn continues at another well ordered, 5mph , manicured lawned Caravan Club campsite.

Reflection on Bongo Moments over an open fire...

This blog is now temporally out of order - we've come so far and some many things have happened in such a short space of time each time, I set my mind to write about - deep breath - the dinner at Loch Fyne, Peter & the Nut Lady, The drive thru Glen Coe, the great welcome at Robroy, wild camping with no electricity, Scotland's rain, SCOTTISH RAIN. Shetland's greetings, Unst's QUIET & new aesthetic, being part of the late night weather forecast (Dogger Bank, German Bite etc), Arbroath Smokies restaurant, frightening experience crossing bridges over valleys, Lidl's great value wines&beers, running out of my pills ..and many other Bongo Moments - something else happens leaving no time to catch up... 

However now back in England things have slowed down a bit so we have time to reflect on all that was Scotland and Scottish over an open fire in a wood on the out skirts of Newcastle.

......and all set to Bongo thru England & Wales. 

🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐🚐

The Beach at Arbroath

Woke up early to take a stroll along Arbroath's seaside aka Victoria Drive where we wild camped overnight - despite the NO OVERNIGHT CAMPING sign further down the beach. 

Couldn't resist the opportunity to stay as this must be one of the biggest skies there's been so far on the trip. Inevitably the panoramic shots could not do it justice.

Ominous steep cliffs at the east end with bunches of decaying flowers indicating some sad incidents. With a continuous concrete defence wall protecting the drive & playing fields running the length of the beach. 

Interestingly it was impossible to make a mobile call within twenty feet of either side of the wall. You either walked towards the sea with the wall behind or stayed on the manicured playing fields. Walking towards the wall the call would be cut off. The reason for the failed calls was all that steel inside the reinforced concrete. 

Scotland's Rain

Many of my friends who know me, know I’m not the complaining type , someone would even say long suffering even!

But Scotland’s driving, dreek, dismal rain has taxed me, when layered on top of the up hill,  down dale, round corner SLOW signed roads with queues of much faster moving traffic, lurking impatiently behind and huge articulated lorries dragging containers the size of Texas behind them causing a temporary hurricane of spray and wind as they flash by on the other side. All making for a really dreary, depressing and at times dreadfully stressful drive!

It was bad enough for me in the Bongo goodness knows what it’s like for those towing a caravan on these roads, in these conditions

I was minded to paraphrase what  Orson Welles  is reported to have said on flying in a plane, with driving in the rain in Scotland "There are only two emotions when [driving in Scotland’s Highlands in the rain]: boredom and terror."

I was worn out about when I finally abandoned all attempts to drive on thru to Glen Coe,  agreed to stop at the next campsite sign regardless -  just needed to stop driving !

So here we are in Bunroy Park literally as its catchphrase says a haven of peace in the heart of The Highlands.

For  few moments the sun came out long enough for me to set up camp before IT started again……

But from inside of the Bongo with a nice meal of grilled chicken sweet corn and tomatoes with some nice bread and Tunnocks teacakes supported by nice price Lidl Red – a Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon – all was back to loveliness in Bongoland!

As for Scotland's rain - when you're not driving - it ain't all that bad....