Meriden 2021

Say Hi To Bobbette

Sadly, this is the last blog of this holiday as tomorrow we head home and return to the everyday existence of work. I have suggested to Mel that we pull some branches over Ethel as camoflage and hide in the corner of the site. No-one would notice surely. Mel gives me one of her ‘grow up’ withering looks and so I shut up.

Yesterday, we went on another jolly as we wanted to explore more areas of Warwickshire before heading for home. As you know, Mel loves shopping – really loves it. And as you also know, I dislike shopping – really dislike it. But being a kind and truly supportive partner as ever, I happily (ok – begrudgingly) agree to drive to Hatton Country Park Shopping Village. Mel had been on Google and found this place which wasn’t too far away and it consisted of lots of independent shops in a estate which meant we could also go for a walk.

After yet another lie in, we set off in Ethel around midday and after only half an hour, we pulled into the estate car park. After the drama of parking in Stratford Upon Avon earlier in the week, I called the number on the website to check I was allowed to park where we were. Success for once as I had managed to park correctly and therefore felt safe to pay the charge via Ringgo.

The weather was very grey but we donned our coats and headed for the ‘Shopping Village’. I could see that Mel had high hopes as this may be the best place she has been to all week but alas it wasn’t to be and I am tempted to inform Trading Standards as the website definitely misrepresented what was on offer.

On the website, the shops were all sparkly and welcoming but in reality they were drab and most were shut. Other than the toilet, we didn’t enter a single building. Poor Mel, her heart was being slowly broken. So to make the day worthwhile we thought we would visit the park Adventure World as we are young and adventurous. However, that reliable condition called ‘miserable-and-stingy-old-git-itis’ reared its ugly head when we realised it would cost £11.95 each. After the quality of the shopping experience, we weren’t convinced we would actually find any adventure there.

Retreating back to the car park and Ethel, I turned on the gas and Mel made a cup of tea and sandwiches and as we ate, we discussed our next move. What a picture – two old dears sitting in their motorhome eating lunch in a car park. At least we weren’t in a lay by, or in chairs outside for all to see.

Even though it was raining slightly, we decided to go for a walk. Mel wanted to go to the canal and see the locks in action. Even we can manage to go for a walk. But clearly not as we couldn’t even find where the advertised walks begin. In our defence, I feel this was more to do with the crap website again and not due to us and after a couple of false starts, we are off.

Before too long, it becomes clear that we are going to get wet as the fields were completely sodden. It wasn’t too bad for me in walking boots but Mel was wearing trainers (I did suggest she packed her boots). After a couple of conversations questioning our intelligence, we continue until we find a gate with a sign stating ‘Please close the gate – pigs roaming free’. Now, normally walking through fields of livestock doesn’t bother me at all. Horses and cows etc. are not a problem but pigs?!

Pigs bite. We had pigs when I was a kid and they always went to slaughter when they could bite higher than my father’s knee. I had evidence of the danger in front of us. And they are big. Ok , not as big as a cow but I can run faster than a cow.

We spotted ‘Bobbette’ in the distance – on our side of the field, coming towards us and she was big. There were lots of others around too but they were enjoying a field of pumpkins and potatoes a safe distance away.

I hadn’t told Mel of my concerns and instead strode on trying to impart an air of confidence even though there was evidence of the damage pigs do to the ground all around us. Mel asked why they dug in the earth and I explained they were searching for grubs and worms etc. Mel innocently stated she had thought pigs were vegetarian and I felt it was now the appropriate time to remind her that bodies are fed to pigs for a reason.

We walked towards Bobette and she walked towards us. I began to sweat. There was no other route to take so I kept my eyes down and strode purposely forward, hoping she would think I was the boss. In the end, we passed her without incident. My air of confidence was wilting however, and if I could have, I would have run for my life. But in the wet conditions, it was likely I would slip over and then I would be in a Hannibal Lector film so I continued to walk slowly and quietly.

Eventually we made it to the gate!! Freedom was in our grasp and we had not been eaten. Life is great! But stop – what lies ahead? A bloody great quagmire! F******g hell. Now I know I am in a horror movie and what the pigs failed to achieve, the swamp monsters would surely finish. There was absolutely no way either of us could get through it even if we had been wearing waders. There was no other choice other than to go back the way we came. I had to face the killer pig again.

From that corner of the field, with my back to the gate, I felt I was now in a war zone and it was me against the enemy (pigs). I don’t know where Mel was in my halluncinations – but she wasn’t being helpful – I know that much.

By now, Bobette had rejoined her platoon to regroup and we had a free (ish) route up the field. I had two choices: 1 – slowly creep along the hedgerow, hoping I am not noticed or 2 – run like my life depended on it. As I am no spring chicken and overweight, number 2 was never going to be an option. Therefore, Mel and I retraced our steps slowly – all the time checking where Bobbette and her army were. Fortunately, pumpkins must taste better than us and we managed to get to safety. We had won the war on this occasion and our lives were safe.

By the time we made it back to Ethel we were both soaking wet and very muddy so going anywhere else wasn’t really an option. But as we needed some milk, I plotted a course for Tescos on the outskirts of Birmingham and we set off once again.

As ever, I thought we were nipping in for some milk, but Mel assumed that meant slowly perusing products in a superstore. After about 3 seconds, I made my feelings clear and we left. I will never understand why anyone can ‘browse’ amongst tins of baked beans.

Finally we returned to our site and Mel heated up the remains of last nights chinese. Yummy!