December 2011

Well, we finally had the Rosabella back on the drive after nearly eight months, having been supplied with a gearbox by Mike Chubb at No 1 Gear in Chard, Somerset (see the link). T went through her reminding himself of the jobs that needed doing while K surveyed cupboards to find out what had been left when we last saw the van in France. Bedding and cushions were removed for washing and airing and it wasn't long before we were back to normal.

T replaced the broken shower tap in the bathroom and the water pump immediately gave up the ghost, although it was a pleasant surprise to find a replacement for £25 instead of the £95 that he had been expecting.

We decided that, as last year, we would spend a couple of days in Snowdonia between Christmas and New Year, giving Rosie her first run out since April.

Christmas Day

........turned out to be more eventful than K had expected. T actually did it - he popped the question by presenting her with an antique sapphire and diamond ring on Christmas morning. K immediately burst into tears and cried for ten minutes before starting to plan the guest list!! Phone calls were made to family and close friends who all seemed pleased that T&K were finally closing the circle after seven years of getting to know each other.

It does of course mean complications for the relationships with Tim and Fiona - T will be his own son's father-in-law, K will be mother-in-law and stepmother rolled in to one and Tim and Fi will be stepbrother and sister as well as man and wife. Ah well, this is Shropshire!!

The ring. T is now minus an arm and a leg!
Tuesday 27th December, Cleeton - Capel Curig via Birmingham (150 miles)

The Rosabella was packed and we headed for the annual family gathering in Birmingham. Much hugging, congratulating and merry-making ensued, including the annual 'weigh-in' where male members of the family jump on the scales for the indignity of being awarded the title of "Porker of the Year", along with a little piggie trophy. Much to T's relief his 19 year old nephew turned up, beating T into a narrow second place again.

We left the party with good wishes ringing in our ears and set off for the hills. There seemed to be an issue with finding reverse gear which will need sorting, and also a curious 'drumming' noise when the engine is under load. After eight months off the road every hum, squeak or rattle registered on T's keen ears. K insisted that things were just 'bedding in' - T needed convincing. Nevertheless, The Rosabella whizzed along happily, much quieter than before and we started to relax into the familiar surroundings of the dark cab, music on the stereo and nattering.

We made good time and before too long we were pulling up outside the Bryn Tyrch (previously mentioned - see the link) for a quick drink before finding our layby near Pen-Y-Gwryd. The ale went down well and we spent a pleasant hour in front of a blazing fire, chatting to another climber and to the owner of the pub. She invited us to stay on their carpark, an offer which we accepted for the following night after booking a table for dinner.

Five minutes up the road and we found our spot, hoping it would be more peaceful than last year (the stolen motorbike incident is mentioned elsewhere in this blog). It wasn't long before the heater was blasting out, supper was on the table (leftovers of duck, turkey, cheese and pickles), the music was playing and we were back in the place we love, the three of us surrounded by mountains.

It was a rough night. Gale force winds, hailstones rattling on Rosie's shell and the sound of running water increasing in volume as the night progressed. We were warm though, and slept reasonably well on the first night for eight months in our lovely, comfy mobile bedroom.

K makes full use of the 'van blanket' Xmas prezzie
from her soon-to-be mother-in-law
The Rosabella beneath glowering skies
in an extremely wet and windy layby













Wednesday 28th December 

We awoke to a view of the mountains that was very different to last year's thick snow and ice.  The vista today was one of tweed - shades of green, red and brown. A quick squint out of the window revealed why we'd been serenaded by running water all night - we'd parked next to a culvert carrying water under the road and out on to the hill and had our own private waterfall about four feet away.

We'd decided that before we did anything else today we would head down to Betws-y-Coed to try and find T some new walking trousers in the sales at one of the gear shops. After breakfast we drove the four miles back to the town which was already busy with people intent on getting some fresh air after the Christmas excesses.

We found a new favourite shop where a very helpful salesman helped T to understand the differences between various products that all looked the same, resulting in trousers that were a perfect fit and just what he'd wanted (he said!). He also bought a pair of Thinsulate padders for use in the van, to keep his toes nice and snug, although K could never understand how he managed to feel warm all the time anyway, regardless of the temperature around him.

We had gorgeous hot choc and Welsh Cakes in one of the tearooms before heading back up the A5 to the Ogwen Valley, togged ourselves up and went for an amble up Cwm Tryfan. It was very slimey underfoot and the wind was still blowing hard. T didn't fancy going much further uphill than the end of the cwm so we ate our sammos and soup and headed back down via the main track, reaching the lane at the bottom just as it was getting dark, but not before K had been lifted off her feet by a particularly fierce gust.

K, in the shadow of Tryfan


Back in The Rosie and divested of our wet, muddy gear we headed off to the layby near Llyn Ogwen where we read, drank tea and watched the progress of a couple of headtorches making their way down the hill from the Llyn Bochlwyd area. It was a wild evening and we hoped they would get down OK.

The van was rocking pretty hard now so we decided to find a more sheltered spot. We thought we may as well take up the offer of Rachel at the Bryn Tyrch to camp on their carpark so we headed back to Capel Curig and esconsed ourselves there, in the lee of a little cottage. Despite this windbreak the gusts were still hitting us pretty hard as we picked up our books again and read to the strains of our new Caro Emerald CD (she's very good if you like jazz/pop-type music).

We managed to get on line and found a whole load of messages of congratulations and good wishes on both Facebook and the Motorhome Fun forum. It was with a lovely warm feeling that we changed for dinner and headed out into the wind and rain for a quick dash across the road to the pub. The food was fantastic and we spent the evening nattering about love, marriage, relationships and mountains. The lads on the next table had spotted the van and were keen to know about it. They regaled us with stories about their adventures of the day and we were also joined by our companion from the prevous evening for good, relaxed chat and banter. We headed for the bar for nightcaps and another brief chat with Rachel, who seemed to be having difficulty tearing herself away from the place. The drinks went down well and we headed back over the road to The Rosabella, full, warm and sleepy.









Thursday 29th December, Capel Curig - Anglesey - Rhos-on-Sea(57miles)

Another very disturbed night due to the high winds and driving rain drumming on The Rosabella's roof and sides. We were warm and cosy but we didn't get much sleep so we decided, with no sign of the bad weather letting up, to abandon our plan for a walk up Moel Siabod. We thought we would cut our losses and visit Norma and Alan in Rhos-on-Sea and take up their offer of a bed for the night. We stayed in bed late, wandered over the road for a coffee in the pub. We talked about the day and thought that we could visit the coast for lunch. T suggested we go via Anglesey so we set off with K at the helm, had a fairly scary, cautious crossing of the Menai Bridge, commenting on the daftness of the canoeists in The Swillies (the rip tide that runs through the Menai Straits between Bangor and Anglesey), visited the 'retail opportunity' at the old railway station in Llanfairpwllgwyn.............gogogoch and finally rocked up on the shore of Red Wharf Bay (K had been looking for signs to Red Dwarf Bay!) for soup and the last of the Christms leftovers.

The weather was abating a little and we went for a short walk on the foreshore, spotted some whimbrels (we think - we're not sure that curlews have that white flash on their back).

It took us about half an hour to drive to Rhos for a lovely evening of Chinese takeaway, champagne to celebrate our news, a roaring fire, laughter and nattering and then a quiet, stationary bed for the sleep of the - almost - innocent.

Friday 30th December, Rhos-on Sea - Cleeton (122 miles)

A long, lazy breakfast and we were headed for home, with a stop in Shrewsbury to top up on supplies and buy some fettling bits for The Rosabella. We are gradually rebuilding our confidence in the van although there are a couple of things to sort out with the gearbox.

All in all, a good few days and the start of a new phase in our lives together.





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