Trying to be Tourists
Mel and I have been here for 4 days now and other than walk the mile and back to the local village, all we have done is eat, sleep and watch television (on an iPad). Therefore, we felt it was time for us to actually do something. Meriden does not appear to be in the most scenic of countryside and as we discovered in the early hours of this morning, it is not far from Birmingham City Airport!
We decided to be proper tourists and head for Stratford Upon Avon which was only about 20 miles away. I duly researched the car park situation and surprisingly found a specific one for motorhomes and coaches which would make life much easier. There is nothing worse than driving to a car park and then discovering it has a height barrier which we can not fit under – even if we limbo.
So we’re up early (10am – early for us when on holiday) and set about grabbing a shower, having breakfast and packing things away in Ethel and by midday, we were off looking forward to an afternoon of culture and shopping (boo I say quietly).
We only got lost twice on the way and once was definitely due to poor road sinage and not poor driving as we couldn’t see the writing on the road until we realised we were in the wrong line. A couple of non-scenic miles later, we had got back on the right road and were soon entering historic Stratford (I can’t be bothered to write the town’s full name more than once here – apologies to any Stratfordian readers).
The town has a one way system which was causing sat nav lady a nervous break down as she had to keep screaming at me ‘turn left and stay right’ or ‘turn right and stay left’. At one point I heard ‘you have reached your destination’ when clearly we had not. Typically, we went the wrong way and saw the car park sign just as we drove past it. We ended up having to drive 2 miles in the wrong direction until we found a roundabout to turn around at. At least this detour was a more scenic one.
Coming in to the one way system again was easier and before we knew it we were in a huge area which was reserved for vans and coaches. This was my idea of heaven. But now the fun began
Some of the car park was being used as a Covid testing centre (which is fine) but most of the motorhome spaces were being used by Covid customers (not fine) and as the remaining spaces already had vans parked in them I pulled into a coach space. There were a million empty coach spaces – so I thought what the hell.
Using my super duper Ring Go app, I paid for parking and returned to Ethel just as a couple who had been sat in their van calmly (or maybe smugly) walked past and informed me that the evil Ring Go parking man had given tickets to 10 vans last week and I shouldnt park in a coach bay. I said the motorhome bays were full and speaking as if I was an idiot they suggested I wait until a space was free.
Being good, law abiding citizens, Mel and I decided to take their advice (which they could have given before I had parked and paid) and wait for a space to become free which wasn’t too long in reality. As we prepared to leave the car park, I checked the parking machine which clearly gave a different Ring Go number than the one I had entered in the coach bay – I had paid for the wrong area.
No worries, I thought. Just cancel the other session and do a new one with the different number – but the app refused to let me do this. So I tried starting a new session but the app told me I wasn’t allowed to park where we were. I couldn’t understand why, unless the gods of parking didn’t see Ethel as a ‘proper’ motorhome. This hurt deeply. Ethel may be small – but she is perfectly formed.
By now, I am getting pretty stressed and Mel is having to cope with my narkiness. I tried calling Ring Go, only to be faced with an automated man who was suffering from ‘smuggitisis’ which is a particularly annoying condition who basically explained that due to my stupidity, I was going to get a fine and there was nothing I could do about it. I hung up.
We decided to write a note explaining our predicament and stick it to the window. As ever, not even this could be simple as we couldn’t find any paper. However, for some reason (Mel) we had new envelopes with us and so used one of those. The ever faithful duct tape appeared and was used to secure the note in an obvious place on the window.
Finally, we set off across the car park towards town but had only gone a few steps before we wondered if the note was clear enough. So we returned to Ethel to write a longer essay but somehow we had lost the only pen we possess. It was the one which lived in my bag but was not there now. How can we lose a pen when we have only moved 10 feet? In the end, Mel and I were close to a domestic so just decided to sod it all and just go in to town. All the while with me muttering under my breath that ‘I will challenge any ticket they leave’ and ‘what a stupid system’ and ‘why the hell didn’t those other motorhomers tell us before I bought a ticket’.
However, it was a worthwhile exercise as I had left them on and at least I had averted a flat battery disaster!
Finally we were in town and as with every single town we visit, my heart dropped. Too many shops and far too many people – most of whom were in my way. I tried to explain to Mel that the town was the birthplace of the famous author William Shakespeare but to be honest, she seemed to be more excited by Crew clothing having a sale than by my enlightening literary information.
Stratford is a much larger town than I had realised and it is full of the normal high street shops along with smaller independent ones and I felt Mel was very restrained and only dragged me into Poundland, a sweet shop (of course) and a few charity shops. I in return, forced her into WH Smiths and The Works to look at cook books. We wandered past Shakespeares’ house whilst avoiding tourists who were taking selfies and Mel asked if people really come to Stratford because of Shakespeare – I had no reply for her.
Finally, Mel started to sense my boredom and reluctantly agreed to return to Ethel. I did half-heartedly offer to extend the parking session but I think she knew I didnt mean it.
We were quiet as we approached Ethel – each of us worried that we would be faced with a great big, yellow monstronsity attached to the screen on the drivers side. Mel would be conscious of the cost, but more than that, she would know how I would react. I was trying to stay calm and keep my frustration in check and so it was a joy to see that Ethel hadn’t been defaced in any way. She was unharmed.
In we jumped and we set off for home, managing not to get lost on the way. It does confuse me though that sat nav lady will take us one way to a destination but a completely different way on the way back. Why?
Now for my date with Doreen! I am so excited and after helping reconnect Ethel to power etc, I head off for my rendevous with my new friend.
I received lots of suggestions on a door fix (which we resolved ourselves as it was due to not being level on the chocks) but the most unexpected and special response came from the Starburst! Doreen – half of the couple who owned ‘Doris’ had replied!
Doreen said hello and more incredibly, invited me for a tour of Doris (after she had hoovered – yes hoovered!). I explained we were busy but maybe tomorrow, and she immediately replied suggesting tomorrow. I said we were off to Stratford but Doreen wasn’t to be put off and said I could visit when we were back – I was just to knock on the Doris’ door. I had pulled.
I abandoned Mel and headed for my rendezvous with Doreen. I gingerly knock on the door and am welcomed aboard Doris as if I am a long lost friend. I duly admire the cupboards, the shower, the space etc. etc. etc. – all the while feeling like I am cheating on Ethel (not Mel you note). I meet Doreen’s husband (can’t remember his name) and Doreen talks and talks. I now know all about her kids, her past job, that this is their first motorhome, where they live, and everything else about her. I am aware that my cup of tea back in Ethel must be cold by now but I can’t escape. Every time I make a move, Doreen starts talking again. I thought having a special friend would be good but it was turning into a nightmare. Where was Mel? Why isn’t she saving me? Am I being punished for cutting her shopping short? This is karma at work.
Finally, I reverse out of Doris’ door at such speed, I trip over the step but fortunately I recover without losing too much face and I am free – returning to the safety of Mel and Ethel.
2LadiesTravelling 