Day 1
The second the kids are back at school; Mel and I head off for another jolly – this time to Great Longstone in the Peak District.
Today has been one of great stress for us both. We surprisingly left on time and were on our way to get fuel when we realised we had forgotten all the food from the fridge and freezer. Cue returning home again. Whilst parked half on the pavement with hazard lights on, Mel hurtles back into the house whilst I monitor her sneakily via the Ring doorbell (ok it isn’t a genuine Ring one – just a cheap knock off – but it still does the same thing). Surprisingly Mel doesn’t dawdle and before I know it, she is back with an enormous amount of food and off we go again.
I had managed to fit a different phone mount so we can use google maps and not our ancient Tom Tom sat nav. Tom has done us proud but in more recent times, he seems to take us anywhere other than where we want to be. Miraculously I can announce that the new mount worked magnificently, and my phone didn’t fall off once.
Another thing to mention before I move on to stress is our on-board music system. Those of you who follow our escapades, will remember that our radio committed suicide some time ago and there is only so much of Mel singing Diana Ross songs that I can handle on a 5-hour journey. On our last trip, rather than spend a fortune on a new radio, Mel blu-tacked some small plug-in speakers on to the dashboard and using lots of wires and connectors, we can listen to Greatest Hits Radio to our hearts content. I can happily report that it worked perfectly for the entire journey today.
Her Royal Highness Queen Elizabeth 2nd passed away yesterday and the songs playing today were much more meaningful and there wasn’t any ‘pop’ music being played. This allowed Mel and I to sing along to a lot of songs that we knew well, whilst occasionally talking about how amazing the Queen was and how the senior royals have jobs that neither of us would want.
We fly along the M25 without any issues and head ‘up north’ on the M1 and as I need a wee, we decide to head into the next services – a simple task one would assume but not so as very quickly, stress rears its ugly head. It begins its attack the moment we hit the slip road as immediately we are hit with a mass of signs. Coaches this way, HGVs that way, cars that way, caravans this way. But what about motorhomes? Why does Ethel not have a sign proclaiming which way I should go to find a very special parking space? All I know is that there isn’t a logical sign for us to follow.
UK services are small and twisty with narrow roads funnelling the driver into tiny parking spaces. But Ethel is fatter than the normal car and so demands somewhere more spacious. There is no way I intend risking a scratch by squeezing into a space which only fits a fiat 500. But alas she hasn’t been considered and I don’t know which type of sign to follow and even if I did, the sign doesn’t take you to where you need to be. It is no different in this one.
Mel gaily points out a sign and I nark back at her that we aren’t a coach, Mel gaily points out the sign for caravans and I follow it but soon nark at her that there are cars in the way. All the while an enormous HGV is gaining on me from behind, and I am sure we will be gobbled up any second.
I get more narked as it is clear there isn’t any parking left anywhere and stroppily proclaim ‘I give up’ and head out of the services and back on to the M1. Mel sits in silence – not because she is angry with me but because she is worried she will say something wrong. That doesn’t make me feel great.
I don’t know why but since I last got my licence back (lost due to epilepsy – not drink driving), I haven’t got the same confidence I used to have. I have driven much bigger vehicles than Ethel and in much more difficult places, but my confidence and ability seems to have deserted me. This is both frustrating and sad. If one person thinks of suggesting it is due to my age – don’t.
But I still need a wee and as there is no chance that we will arrive at our destination without me wetting myself, I must be brave and try the next services. As we drive off the motorway, the same mess of multiple signs face us, but I am determined to not give up as my bladder needs success. So I allow Mel to guide me into the main car park where Ethel soon straddles two spaces – pissing off car drivers immensely – but I don’t give it a thought as I head for the toilets.
Recently, Mel and I went to France to attend Callum and Claire’s wedding and the difference between French services and UK ones is huge. French ones are spacious and considerate of users. They have clean toilets, plenty of large parking spaces and areas specifically for motorhomes. They even have ‘Aires’ which are picnic areas spaced between full services and even these have toilets. The best thing? The ones in France are clean. I wish we had French ones here as maybe it would help me to keep my stress in check.
We are quickly back on the road again, still singing together (apart from the time Mel was asleep) and making excellent progress. I turn off the motorway and approach Chesterfield only to be faced with a big roundabout where the signs bear no resemblance to the instructions on google maps. Once again, I feel my heartbeat speeding up and even my toes are clenched in my shoes. Mel tries to help but I am deaf and blind to her and can only concentrate on not annoying the other road users. Mel says ‘at least you cant hear them swearing at you’ which doesn’t help very much.
Without killing anyone, or being killed ourselves, we are away out of the town and into the countryside and we begin to get glimpses of the beautiful scenery which we are so looking forward to. And after a few miles of hills and lanes, we turn into a small campsite in Great Longstone which is just a mile from the Monsal Trail.
The usual arrival chaos ensues with Mel and I getting stroppy with each other (in a quiet, jaw clenching way) whilst we find a pitch etc. We are a little annoyed as someone had arrived 30 seconds before us and got the best pitch, leaving us to squeeze Ethel in the corner. But never mind, we have arrived and unusually for us, we are staying in one place for 8 nights instead of moving from site to site every few days. This will allow us both to truly relax and recharge our batteries.
Because we are parked next to big trees, we can’t get a signal for the telly and are back to watching the memorial service for the Queen on the iPad. I really don’t know why we bothered spending a fortune on satellite Tv as 9 times out of 10 we don’t seem to be able to use it. We have a quick cup of tea and nip out between the thunderstorms to investigate the shower block which is brilliant – clean, modern and plenty of showers. There are also plenty of maps of walks in the area and local information including a bus timetable which we will probably use so we don’t have to drive anywhere.
Ahead of us lies a lovely weekend of walking, eating, and sleeping – I am not sure in what order. There are walks straight from the site into the National Park, and I guarantee we will be walking Back Tor at some point – regardless of the weather. Our Back Tor walk will be a blog of its own.
2LadiesTravelling 