Forest of Dean, 2nd-3rd April 2011

We wanted to be in Bristol for K’s father’s birthday on 2^nd April so we decided we would try again to find a nice spot somewhere in the Forest of Dean. Our original plan was, as usual, to leave after work on Friday night but in the event we were both tired after a busy week and so we decided to wait until Saturday morning, leave early and have brekkie on the road.

We left Cleeton St Mary at about 9.00 and headed down to Symonds Yat in the Wye Valley, scene of some of T’s less successful rock climbing antics in the days of his youth – adventures which included picking his climbing partner out of the top of a tree after he (the luckless partner) had plummeted from the top of the cliff, his fall being arrested by the welcoming boughs of a large oak. The poor bloke had already suffered after T had stuffed his chalk bag with holly leaves. The chalk is used to coat the hands and fingers, soak up sweat and give an extra bit of friction in moments of panic. T had decided to prove to his 'friend' that artificial aids were unnecessary on such simple climbs

The Rosabella was cruelly treated on the lane up to the big Forestry Commission carpark, it being narrow enough to pull the rubber insert from her offside trim. (It is noticeable that Rosie’s nearside is far cleaner and ‘dinge’-free – probably something to do with a left-hand drive vehicle being used on UK roads). There was no real damage and T was able to replace the trim quickly with the aid of his best Pound Shop mallet.

After breakfast we wandered down to the river where we spent a lovely hour in the early spring sunshine, watching the antics of novice canoeists on the rapids just down from the hotel. A lovely young chocolate Labrador lived up to his breeding by making a beeline for the water despite the exhortations of his owner. There were swans on the river too - although we saw no one with a broken arm there was a woman from Birmingham who was out of breath.

While we were on the way back we heard a crashing in the undergrowth behind us. Our first thought was that it was a dog having fun but it was a beautiful doe clattering up the track behind us. We stood stock still, but she vanished into the trees before we could reach for our cameras.

We sat and ate ice creams in the picnic area before heading off deeper into the forest in The Rosabella. T was remembering various Dennis Potter plays, especially ‘Blue Remembered Hills’ in which the children were all played by adults including Colin Welland, and Helen Mirren. The author was born in the Forest of Dean and this autobiographical piece is set there. It made a great impression on T at the time (the early 70s he thought).

We eventually found a nice spot by the side of a stream at a Forestry site called Wenchford. There was a family using one of the barbecue grills provided at the site but we pulled along the track to a little clearing and decided to stop and at least have dinner in the beautiful setting. There was a sign on the barrier saying that the carpark was locked at 8pm – it was only 5 so we knew we had loads of time. T fettled, trying to find the cause of a leaky tap while K sat and relaxed, between passing tools and ignoring T’s bad language.

A young couple who had pulled up close to The Rosabella and walked their dog seemed to be having a problem closing the bonnet on their Clio. T, unable to resist either the challenge or his nosiness, sallied forth with WD40 primed. A bit of a spray and a waggle with a screwdriver and they were sorted. They also told T that although the Forestry Commission Ranger would be around at some point to close up, he was a nice bloke and would probably let us stay.

K prepared supper – smoked haddock, broccoli, and a crème fraiche and chive sauce, helped down with a beautiful Sancerre – and just as we sat down to eat the Ranger duly appeared. He told us that he had to lock up and that we would have to leave. T asked him what time the barrier would be open in the morning and was told that it would be about 6.30. T suggested that we wouldn’t mind if he locked us in but he replied that he could lose his job if he did that. T then put on his sad face and explained that we’d just settled down to dinner and asked him what would have happened if we’d been out walking when he came. He said that he would have had to put a letter of explanation on our windscreen and lock us in. When T then suggested the obvious, the Ranger said that, as we looked like ‘normal people’, that would be ok providing we realised that if we had an emergency in the night the barrier would be locked and there was little mobile signal. The only emergency that T could imagine was running out of Sancerre so we duly accepted all responsibility, he gave us the bit of paper and we all ended up happy.

We settled down again to our beautiful supper. It was almost dark by now so we lit candles and ate our meal accompanied not only by Maria Callas on the stereo but also a nightingale in the bushes next to us. It was a sublime duet and will remain an abiding memory of a moment of paradise.

We slept well, as usual in The Rosie, but woke early to a fantastic dawn chorus, with percussion provided by a woodpecker. Whatever the aural version of spectacular is, this was it and we just had to get up and make the most of it. We had a cuppa and went for a walk along the old railway track that the Commission has converted to a waymarked walk, stopping to record the birdsong along the way. Back along the bank of a stream, spring flowers starting to appear and even a rope swing to amuse us. A beautiful standard poodle, out for a bounce with his owner, came ‘pronking’ towards us, lifting off vertically with excitement and then carrying on his exploration with gusto.

Back to The Rosabella for breakfast and then on to Bristol for the birthday lunch. Just a few little glitches to iron out and then all systems go for our planned trip to France over Easter. What a great weekend!

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Pwllheli, 11th-13th February 2011

The band usually heads for Perpignan in spring, for our annual 'working on material' trip, which inevitably turns in to a long weekend of silliness punctuated with some singing in bars, whether they want it or not!

This year however various circumstances came together which meant that we couldn't do the usual so we decided to prevail upon Neil and Sue's hospitality at his sea-front house in Pwllheli, a repeat of a visit we did in May 2010.

As then we parked outside Neil's place, along with Dave and Jenny in their Peugeot, although we did receive some grumpy looks from passers-by, who obviously thought we were the vanguard for a meet of some sort.

We did loads of singing, eating and walking on the beach, AND, K was able to have her first proper shower in The Rosabella, T having got to the bottom of the dump-valve problem with a bit of advice from a friendly engineer at our local MH dealer.

So we're now almost all systems go, looking forward to our planned trip to France at Easter.

Brecon Beacons, 28th - 30th January 2011

Bentlawnt - Brecon - Bristol (310 miles)

Two wet ones in Clun Forest



We were itching to get out again. We'd had a last-minute, completely unplanned overnight in Clun Forest a couple of weeks before (the casserole was cooked and K suggested we might as well eat in The Rosabella on top of a hill somewhere, so off we went). It had belted down with rain and we'd had a quick traipse along a path, got soaked and gone home for Sunday lunch. Not exactly a load  of effort but nice to be out nevertheless. 



However, we still felt bloated after Christmas and decided that we should head for the Beacons where the hills are fairly easy but spectacular once on the tops.

T had been fighting with the water system in The Rosabella, water coming up in the wardrobe from the heater dump valve. Amidst much muttering along the lines of 'we never had problems like this when all we had was a bucket and a bottle of water..........' (T would never admit to being a Luddite - maybe its his age - and these kids of today, well..........!) he thought he had nailed the problem.



He picked K up from work at about 6pm on a bitterly cold, clear night, and after a fish & chip stop just outside Hereford we set off for Brecon. T had had a look at a satellite image of the area around Storey Arms, just south of Libanus, and had spotted a likely-looking pull-in on a minor road next to a lake and, lo and behold, there it was, just waiting for an old motor home and its inhabitants. A glass of wine, a couple of aspirin for T's three-day old headache and we were bedded down for the night. He was awake at 4-ish, head pounding and freezing where various bits of him had been sticking out from beneath the double quilt. Heating on, a glass of water and kip for another couple of hours.



Saturday morning dawned bright, clear and very cold. T turned the tap with a triumphant flourish - NOTHING, apart from the sound of water happily tinkling away under the van! A quick examination was enough to tell T that his work on the water system wasn't quite complete, and it was back to bottled water for this trip.



Copious amounts of tea and biccies were followed by bacon and egg and after clearing up we headed the mile or so back up the road to the parking area at Storey Arms.

 

Boy was it cold! As we climbed toward the summit of Corn Du a nagging wind froze our fingers and toes and once on the top we hurried to find a sheltered spot for sandwiches and a drink. Out of the wind, although it was cold, the sun was beautiful and we lingered with a few other people, enjoying watching the clouds boiling below us.



Brocken Spectre on Corn Du

While K wandered around on the top the mist filled the valley floor, and we were lucky enough to see a Brocken Spectre. The "spectre" appears when the sun shines from behind a climber who is looking down from a ridge or peak into a corrie filled with mist or fog. The light projects the climber's shadow forward through the mist, apparently magnified to giant-like proportions. The head of the figure was surrounded by a glowing, rainbow-like halo (a 'glory').

This was K's first view of the phenomenon - only T's third in over 30 years of spending time in the mountains. It made our day.

   

 


Corn Du and Pen-y-Fan

 

A breather on the track up to Corn Du



 







We hurried on to the summit of Pen-y-Fan, now completely in the mist, and back down again in to the sunshine on the saddle between the two summits. A slow amble back down, warming up with every step, stopping to lend a stick to a young woman who was struggling with sore feet - she returned it to us when she arrived back in the carpark.

Hot chocolate with Bailey's and squirty cream helped with the rehabilitation back to warmth and a quick trip in to Brecon to buy more bottled water and a hinge to replace one that had broken on the folding worktop (there's always something to do with a Rosabella!) and then back out of the town on a different road to find our Saturday night lodgings, a beautiful spot alongside Tal-y-Bont reservoir. Quiet (one car all night, and some ducks quacking), no light pollution so about a billion stars shining, cosy, well-fed (K had brought a rice dish she'd made at home the previous day). This is why we have The Rosabella and love the life the three of us share.

 

Our lovely wild spot on Tal-y-Bont





Another beautiful dawn, the water turning pink, Venus rising over the hill, followed by a sliver of old moon, absolutely freezing outside but warm and snug under the duvet. Obligatory cups of tea, lovely brekkie and on the road again to visit K's parents in Bristol. Home on Sunday evening after a really lovely weekend. Can't wait for the next trip - North Wales in a fortnight. But we can do without the water problem, thank you very much!!



Sunrise over Tal-y-Bont reservoir






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Snowdonia, 29th - 30th December 2010

Bentlawnt - Capel Curig - Rhos (230 miles)

We’d been really looking forward to getting out in The Rosabella again. A planned trip to Scotland for a wedding had been thwarted by the ‘Great Snows of December’ – if we’d gone as planned we would have been stuck overnight in a blizzard on the M6 (T was ruing another missed entrepreneurial opportunity – selling bacon sandwiches at vastly inflated prices to fellow stranded travellers).

We reckoned that we could do with a bit of exercise after the excesses of food and dearth of activity over Christmas, so we decided to head for Snowdonia, climb a mountain, investigate the sales in the gear shops and visit old friends in North Wales whilst also taking the opportunity for another night in our new van. An early start on Wednesday would mean that we could spend day one in the hills and do our visiting and shopping on Thursday.

We spent Tuesday fettling The Rosabella - we hadn’t so much as stepped inside her throughout the bad weather. We had the dehumidifier working full blast for 24 hours and a little heater warmed the cockles of her heart. We had taken the precaution of taking the cushions and bedding into the house and of draining the boiler down.

As usual, the plan for an early start went out of the window and by the time we’d loaded up, been to the supermarket for supplies and generally pithered about it was 11.30 before we were under way. Having given up hope of a good tramp up a meaningful hill we had a lovely, relaxed drive up to Betwys-y-Coed, sun shining, music on, nattering - one of those real good-to-be-alive moments.

Betwys was, as usual, packed but we still managed to have a rummage through the gear shops with K, true-to-form, being unable to come away empty handed, and T losing his glasses!

It was late afternoon and getting dark by the time we headed up the road to Capel Curig. The carpark behind Joe Brown's shop was icy but we decided that it was ideal for soup and sammos so while K put the kettle on T went and surveyed the mountain road for overnight possibilities, managing to slip and fall into a puddle while he was at it.. No appropriate pull-ins were obvious so we decided, after our snackette, to head down the the Caernarfon road to see if we could find a spot somewhere before Pen-y-Grwyd. There was a big layby a couple of miles past the National Outdoor Pursuits Centre at Plas-y-Brenin, flat, shielded from the road by an embankment - perfect.

We had a cuppa, read the paper, played cards until we realised that time was getting on and if we wanted to have supper at The Bryn Tyrch (one of our favourite pubs and one of the few that we would recommend to anyone), we would have to move, so off we went to Capel, making a mental note of exactly which fence post we were parked next to in order to return to this very comfy pitch.

Great food and drink, as usual and we headed back at about 10.30 to our home for the night. Damn! There's a car parked there! We were already in the layby so would have to just drive straight through. However, as we pulled in the car's lights came on and it accelerated out on to the road, disappearing at speed. We offered a silent apology for disturbing somebody's evening and drove to the spot we'd used earlier. There, in the hedge right next to us was what looke like a brand new Yamaha V-twin of some variety, number plate ripped off, obviously abandoned.


Bike enthusiasts ourselves we could well imagine the distress of someone losing their pride and joy so we did the right and decent thing and called the police. The controller asked us to hang around until a couple of officers turned up - we were a bit dubious, bearing in mind that the 'baddies' may come back to recover the bike, so we moved a little way down the road and sat with the lights on until North Wales Constabulary's finest showed up. We told them where the bike was and they said that they'd come back if they needed any more information from us. T had been a bit concerned that we may be told we couldn't stay overnight but they just asked us if we were bedded down for the night and wished us a good night's sleep. We stayed awake for half an hour or so, just in case, and then turned in for a good night's sleep, as ordered!




Next day we decided to forego brekkie and go for a traipse up to Llyn Idwal. As we walked up the hill the phone bleeped with a voicemail. It was North Wales police with a message at 1.00am, saying that they could find neither the bike nor us (despite the fact that their buddies had tucked us in, and that we were in a big van parked next to the road), and to give them a ring if we received the message before 3 in the morning - fat chance!!



We continued with our walk to the frozen lake and then a race back to Ogwen Cottage and a quick drive to Colwyn Bay for a good, long lunch with friends before driving home via more friends at Nesscliffe.


Llyn Idwal



 A pleasant, if eventually busy, couple of days.

(Post script: T telephoned North Wales Police ten days later to find out what had happened to the bike. They had eventually found it, it had been stolen from Trefriw and was now reunited with its grateful owner, minus a few bits and pieces - a good result under the circumstances.)



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The Rosabella II's First Trip, November 2010

The Mid-Wales Loop, Nov 5th-7th 2010 (279 miles) 

Well, not exactly the first because we did have a run down to Bristol, just to get an idea of how she felt on the road - great, was the answer.

However, this was our first chance to spend the night and twiddle with all the buttons and switches for real. T had the day off on the Friday and, although reeling from an unexpected defeat on the golf course at the hands of No 1 son, was able to pack the van and get to Hereford in time to pick up K from work at 6 o'clock. A shopping and fuel stop, and we were on our way back to Abergwesyn Common, not the little lay-by we'd inhabited earlier in the year but a larger, flattish spot next to the river at the end of the valley. It was a little scary on the narrow mountain road, still not used to our new dimensions, but we managed to make it to our spot without to much squeaking and just a bit of scraping. Supper was duly cooked and we bedded down for our first night in The Rosabella II. Just as comfy as her predecessor, bed a little smaller maybe, we both slept well, although T was awake early as usual, head full of ideas and jobs to do.

First morning cuppa in The Rosabella II

Breakfast,  washing up, and no water coming through. We couldn't figure it out until we looked in the water tank and found it empty. T thought he had filled it before he left Cleeton - obviously he hadn't, and we'd used more than we thought. Our original plan had been to head for Abereiddy, near St Davids, but we decided that we would forego the pleasure of driving another 80-odd miles and head instead for New Quay, topping up with water there, if we could. We would also try to find some chemicals for the loo as well, just so that we could try that out as well! The Rosabella worked hard up the steep hills and round the hairpins leading out of the Abergwesyn valley but coped far better than her predecessor would have - something to do with an extra 500cc no doubt.  We had coffee and cakes in a cafe in New Quay (The Hungry Trout) and headed back up the coast to Aberystwyth, stopping at a garage on the way to top up the water.

A quick shop at Aberystwyth and off again, heading for Devil's Bridge with the intention of finding somewhere for an overnight on the mountain road to Rhayader. More steep, narrow roads and we pulled on to a Forestry Commission carpark at the entrance to the Hafod Estate. It was dark by now, but we decided to have a cuppa and then get on with a couple of jobs - K sorting cupboards, T messing with an incalcitrant light fitting. Apart from the water pump's tendency to trip the switch every three minutes it was going quite well. That was until T decided to plug the computer in to the 12v socket so that we could listen to some music.

"I'll use this two-way adaptor I think, so we can have that extra light on. Ha! do you remember how the old Rosie always used to blow a fuse when we used it?"

BANG!!

"Sod it, it's done it again!"

T fiddled with the trip switches to no avail. We plugged our auxiliary light in to the van's dashboard socket so we could see what we were doing. T puzzled over where the fuse could be before remembering that when he'd been setting up the old van's leisure battery charging system he'd read that a fuse should be used as close to the battery as possible. A quick scrabble under the driver's seat and there it was - and T knew he'd put spare fuses in one of the boxes he'd packed, in fact he'd told K as much when she'd suggested buying some in New Quay's pound shop. Which was why he was even more fed up to find that they weren't there! still, the cooker worked, the heater worked, the computer could run off it's battery so there were no big problems. T took a bottle to fill by dunking in the water tank - almost empty again! What's going on with the water for goodness sake, it was three-quarters full a couple of hours ago? More sitting down and thinking. The hot water tank takes ten litres, if the tank was slightly less than three-quarters full that would take quite a chunk out of what we were carrying, and there'd been the cleaning that K had started. Maybe it did make sense after all. Bedtime again, worn out with puzzling it all out, b ut we knew there were no serious problems and another great night's sleep ensued.

Forestry Car Park, Hafod

Sunday morning was beautiful. K investigated the porta-loo on the carpark and reported that it was spotless. We decided that we would have a walk before breakfast and set off on a truly beautiful route through the Hafod Estate. It was cold and there was a mist rising from the River Ystwyth, so gorgeous, past waterfalls, ravines, an old ribbon bridge, about two hours of working up an appetite for a huge Left-Over Pasta Fritata, cooked by T for brunch.
 
We headed off for home at about 2pm, over the mountain to Rhayader, a new fuse in Cross Gates, water in Hereford, and back to Cleeton by 6.30 (T managing to scrape the gate post on the way over the grid, damaging The Rosabella's trim in the process.

All in all, a satisfactory start to our relationship with our new van, and an appetite to get out again as soon as possible.
 










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Introducing The Rosabella II

We rearranged our holiday in France, Rosabella-less. While we were away we talked at length about our next van, what we needed, what we didn't, and T had started mapping out his ideas for the layout of the interior. We'd already decided that we were going to look for a minibus with a high-top and we thought we'd spend a few weeks looking for the right vehicle before a winter of working to prepare it for the kind of use we enjoyed.

We arrived home to T's from our holiday in France in the early hours of Saturday. After breakfast we headed off in separate cars to K's to feed the cat and visit the kids. At the traffic lights for the roadworks at the level crossing T ambled down the road to K's car.
"Did you see that van for sale in the front garden in Craven Arms? It looks like an old one."
"No, I didn't notice it. Do you want to go back and have a look?"
"Yeah, why not - we might get some ideas."

A U-turn and five miles back up the road and we were sitting in the back of a 1989 something or other, based on a Fiat Ducato. The interior looked 'lived-in', but the outside looked sound, the engine and underneath were clean and we were impressed.

A test drive later, a bit of haggling, and we were the owners of a 21-years old, left-hand drive, FFB 5-berth motorhome, with all the things we said we would never need - shower, hot & cold water, heating, and, horror of horrors, a loo! Our careful planning, our intentions to be careful with what we bought, our absolute conviction that we only wanted a little 'tent-on-wheels' - all out of the window!

So now starts the next phase in our lives as motorhomers - tidying up the interior, having enough room to stand, sit, eat and sleep without falling over each other and, above all, finding 'our' kind of wild camping spots with a much bigger vehicle.

Stay tuned!!

August 2010 - The Rosabella's Demise

Anybody who reads this blog will, we hope, have picked up on the fact that there has been an emotional attachment to our old van which is over and above the fondness that many of us have for an old family vehicle which has given us lots of enjoyment. T's parents built The Rosabella and it was as a result of his dad's illness that we took her over. She'd been a familiar sight in paddocks at racing circuits all over the UK and had provided bacon sandwiches and coffee for many young riders who went on to great things. She'd then provided us with an inestimable amount of fun, exploring at home and in Europe.

When MOT time came round again we knew that there would have to be a significant amount of work done to keep The Rosabella on the road. We'd had £500 of welding carried out to get her through the previous year's test - we expected that there would be more to be done, and the steering and brakes needed attention as well. The garage called to say that in their opinion, if we wanted to keep her going, we should contact a specialist restoration company but that it was going to cost a lot of money. When we went to pick her up the 'fail' list was four pages long! We decided to ask Harold who runs the garage at the end of the road to have a look - if it could be sorted out, he's definitely the man and he knew how important The Rosabella was to us. We were on our way to Bristol when he rang. "I think it's time to say goodbye" he said, as if he was telling us that an old faithful pet needed to be put down. We asked a few questions but it was obvious that it was the end of the road for The Rosabella.

So, after a couple of years in our hands, many with T's parents, tens of thousands of happy, trouble-free miles, it was time to look for a replacement. There will be a Rosabella 2 at some point and we know we'll have just as much fun and go to just as many places, some familiar, many new. It won't be the same...........

The Rosabella