England in 2022

When Covid and I were done with each other, I flew to London. The passing of a family member drew friends and relations from Ireland and England to mourn and celebrate the life of a promising young man. Much of our time was spent chatting over food and drink. We took the underground into London hoping to catch a play last minute but settled for a romp around Shakespeare's Globe Theatre. I finally had a proper Yorkshire pudding and they are delicious when done right!

We were happily reunited with our campervan in Bristol and planned to spend one night there cleaning, unpacking and reaquainting ourselves with the systems and determining what had survived for two years being closed up and subjected to British weather. Most items were as you might expect. Our campsite was near Cheddar bordering a field filled with sheep. We heard them as well as smelled them - an aroma I described as "gross" and Dermot declared to be "fresh." Now I know what "farm fresh" really means. The busy day was topped off with dinner at the campground's restaurant as we were too late and too beat to make what we'd bought.  The thin comforter was just enough to stave off the chill of the spring night.

Oops!

We tackled adding water to the tank the following morning without reading the manual which turned into a comedy of errors culminating with water running from under the bathroom into the kitchen. We feared the worst - broken lines. We booked another night at the same camp and called the company that cares for the van in our absence. It being Sunday, getting service would be delayed at least a day. A bit of troubleshooting revealed our problem was self-inflicted and didn't recur when all valves were set correctly. So we did laundry and relaxed before cooking our first van-made dinner of the trip. 

Here's an album of our photos.

We dined al fresco with a bottle of wine we had bought in Spain in 2019 and somehow aged very nicely in the van being subjected to whatever highs and lows Britain could dish out. 

With our fingers and toes crossed, we set our sights on a ferry crossing to France. The narrow roads in Cheddar with their incredibly charming stone houses and their picturesque flower-covered stone walls are lovely to see but caused anxiety as we tried to avoid collisions with bigger vehicles. On arrival in Folkestone, we immediately booked a ferry and campsite for the next day.

Next stop: Bruges, Belgium