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When is life in a motorhome not life in a motorhome?

Jul26

life in a motorhome

What happened to the sabbatical year and life in a motorhome?

I embarked on life in a motorhome on the 4th January, 2016 (van day), and I can still remember the hope and anticipation that flooded my being as I climbed up into the cab, turned the key and put her into gear. Life that morning was full of possibility and the delicious potential that flows through the open door. I imagined, at that moment, that I was taking a year out. That by the end of that year I would have clarity and purpose and be ready to re-settle. As always, life had other ideas, and today, in the second half of the second year of what might yet turn out to be a sabbatical lifetime, I cannot yet see any future beyond what I am already doing. Life in a motorhome has evolved into life shared between the motorhome, house sitting (for income) and staying with friends.

life in a motorhome

vulnerability is strength

To a large extent, this is good, and I am enjoying the fluidity in my life and geography and work. However, not having a base, living in other people’s spaces and constantly moving around, brings it’s own difficulties. My body hurts most of the time, because I am always using my laptop on kitchen stools, armchairs and dining chairs and at tables that are too high or low. I lose sleep every time I change venue (remember that ‘first night in a strange place’ feeling?) and sometimes don’t sleep well for days. Food shopping – and trying to prevent waste – can be a nightmare; imagine having to move your whole kitchen, easily, wherever you go. Becoming vegan at the beginning of March only complicated things further, as both prepared and convenience foods are much harder to come by. Everything requires forethought, or I just end up eating crap!

Fluidity regarding working comes and goes, but I have felt enough of it to know that it’s a good thing for me. The dog business, has taken the bulk of the first half of 2017, with rapid growth, new contractors and having to let a couple of people go, all taking centre stage at times. It seems to have reached a stable status quo and is no longer requiring my full attention for the best part of every day. July is almost over and it’s wall to wall house sitting season (through until early October), but often house sitting enforces a scenario where I can do meaningful work towards an online future. So this may yet prove to be a fruitful period of growth.

I do have a period of 10 days mid-August, when I will be able to enjoy life in the motorhome again, along with Raffi, down at the farm. It’ll be a time of helping Janet out with farm work and catching up with gorgeous people like my Mum and Dad, Alison and Lloyd. It will be a clearing in the ‘house-sitting-jungle’, and no doubt much appreciated by that time.

I can say that the past few weeks have brought increasing clarity of direction, something that’s been missing since I abandoned the ‘coaching and support’ idea, for people running a pet care business. I’m currently working through Richard Moore’s excellent Eight Step Start Up course, which is proving incredibly useful and is amazing value. Money remains tight, but only because I am currently supplying the living costs of my youngest, as well as my own. I am, of course, always looking for a way to resolve this, without rendering him homeless.

life in a motorhome

The clarity of direction I mentioned, leads me to say that if you were to ask me what I do (implication = my main work), I would answer that I am a writer. This is a big jump forward for me. Especially since I have also realised that my unique selling point is ME! I recently completed an appraisal of my own passions, knowledge and strengths, over different phases of my life and a clear pattern emerged. For as long as I have had the ability to speak, write and read, I have loved words and engaged with them to grow, nurture, create and educate. I also have a strong history of personal development (long before I even knew what it was), and find it easy to expose my heart. These truths have proven to be deeply liberating, as I explore the patterns of the past, and see that the future is simply a continuation… a working the same threads into a new section of tapestry. May it be the brightest tapestry yet.

With love

Ali x

 

The Life I Choose – female, 55 and living in a van.

Oct22
The life I choose

View of the farm over the valley. Janet and Rachel work the strip of land between the treeline and the houses. Theirs is the one white house.

Oh! Suddenly, it’s the 22nd of October, and I am just shy of being 5 sixths of my way through this ‘sabbatical year’. The life I choose is still something I live day by day, without a clear vision for my future. I thought it was time to take stock, and to update you on the unfolding of this life. Then, as always, where to begin? The Summer proved impossibly busy and expensive on the Caravan Club sites I had been using, so I went to spend a bit of time on Janet (my sister) and Rachel’s small holding. This involved parking up in their farm yard, and attaching to an external hook up point to

life I chooose

Wooden drum set in Plessey Woods, Northumbria

the house electricity. Plus I used their utility wash room, to empty my motor-home toilet cassette. This turned out to be a perfect arrangement for me, as I could write in the van for many hours, without interruption,  while being free from the distractions that inevitably surround you on a camp site. I also had people I love and trust close by, in case the need for help arose. In return, I paid a nominal amount for electricity and did odd jobs around the house.

With everything working so positively for all concerned, I changed my living pattern to involve travelling to the farm whenever I was free from the need to be in Newcastle for a week or more. As I have honed and refined the business, these expeditions to the Yorkshire countryside have become longer. It seems I can also ‘mind the farm’ (5 chickens, 35 sheep, 2 cats and 3 dogs) when Janet and Rachel are away. I’ve enjoyed the hands on farm work, though it’s not a life that I would necessarily choose for myself full-time. I love the peace, the really close proximity to nature, and the connection both with ‘family’ and ‘earth’. The hours of solitude to think and write is also perfect for me right now, and I have enough ‘busy’ when I am in Newcastle to stop me from feeling like I have opted out of living in the real world entirely.

The life I choose

The week Rosie joined me on the farm,

The dog care business is now primarily a walking business, and I gave the the girls who were already boarding for me, my boarding clients, apart form the few I am still happy to house sit for. I’m currently in the middle of a longish spell of sitting, and after a busy couple of weeks am now in the relaxed company of two horizontal retrievers in a lovely environment. My hopes for getting something more than dog care achieved, are on the rise!

The months since May, when Pete removed the possibility of relationship from our table, have been a time akin to grieving for me. I had truly hoped that we would overcome the ills of his past life enough to share a present, because the present we shared was – for me – well, I was happy… It’s hard to describe the coming to someone after years of relational disconnect and the internal turmoil and constraint that, that imposes, and feeling not only love, but ‘home’ and not only home, but ‘freedom’ in the face of them. It’s hard to find that you are not enough, even though you knew from the beginning that your were fighting monsters in pursuit of possibility. It’s hard to let go of that kind of love with one hand, while holding onto friendship with the other. It’s hard to miss someone when they are sitting in the

The life I choose

My daughter, Imogen beach combing on the beautiful Island of Tiree

same room. But perhaps the hardest thing of all for me, is the difficulty I have in believing that this depth of connection, this social compatibility (I’m so complex in that regard), this quality of relating, is hiding just around the corner in another possibility. I want the companionship of partnering… but I not yet ready or able to hope. The farm has been sanctuary, and finding this place of safety is helping me heal. Baby steps.

I should say that throughout it all, Pete – whose name means the rock – has been kind, steady and inclusive. I believe that he wants a successful, ongoing, meaningful friendship as much as I do.

With all that in mind and heart, I have turned my attention to myself, and am enjoying a journey of discovery in that regard. The life I choose right now includes working to lose weight, get fit, stay healthy, practice mindfulness, reconnect with my sensuality and with the earth. I have no idea of my future, or the life I will choose. But I know that wherever this journey takes me, I will be there. I want to be the best me I can, in order to be able to grab life by the throat – without limiting myself through things I can do something about. I have, for too long, been ‘unhappy’ with my size and shape, so now is the time to determine my own long-term well-being. It’s not really that I mind looking curvy, it’s that I want to be physically able, strong and flexible.

Living in a small space is easier if you don’t have to squeeze yourself through the available gaps, and there is a lot of climbing and stretching and reaching because the storage space is mainly overhead. Plus I noticed a marked improvement in the chronic hip pain I experience at times, after doing only a couple of sessions of yoga a few weeks ago. So I have subscribed to an online workout video programme for beginners, that mixes cardio, strength, balance and core strength, in 30 minutes sessions

that you do daily. The trainer is right up my street and it feels like a good fit. having it online means I have reduced the obstacles to doing it to almost zero. Giving me a fighting chance of success. Once it gets to be routine to do it, I’ll plan some extra yoga sessions too.

The life I choose

A day in Huddersfield at the Rat and Ratchet

I’ve been on a pretty clean diet for a few weeks now. Started off with just Purition shakes, and have since added in vegetables, a little fruit, eggs and beans. Am off caffeine, dairy, gluten and alcohol and feeling great. Eventually my heart will catch up, and when it does I want to be ready for the next adventure. For now I’ve made one easy, clear decision, and in that regard this is the life I choose. I intend to stay in the van for the foreseeable future. I do feel as though I have become more productive as the year has progressed, but there is so much as yet undone…

The life I choose – essentialism

Mar23
The view from the public footpath just outside the Caravan Club site at Old Hartley.

The view from the public footpath just outside the Caravan Club site at Old Hartley.

So much has happened since I last wrote and I apologise for the ‘gap’. One thing that is clear to me, is that I have a huge amount to learn this year about “the life I choose”. After a run of house-sits, punctuated by my gorgeous mother having open heart surgery (she’s recovering with the grit and determination that I know runs through my own veins), I find myself again re-evaluating just what it is that I am doing here. The short answer would have to be – too much! I set off on this year of significance, in order to free myself from the tyranny of constant, frenetic, busyness, yet three months in I found myself trapped again in that treadmill feeling, and “the life I choose” felt like a distant, ethereal thing. Unable to even define it, I felt ill-equipped either to take hold of it or to make it happen. Yet here I am: A new day, a new caravan site, looking out onto the vastness of the North Sea and taking the next baby steps towards understanding what “the life I choose” really means. Perhaps just as importantly, beginning to see what it will cost me.

I heard something very challenging yesterday; that the word priority was for many centuries of usage, only singular. That it was used to mean the single most important thing. Then, sometime over the past 200 or so years, as our lives developed an ever increasing pace, it was pluralised. The competing demands of many aspects of our lives had become too complex and clamorous to contain a single priority. However, it strikes me gut deep, that the human being is not capable of prioritising many things. That believing we have many priorities, leads only to the tyranny of the urgent. A place I have lived for many years. What I mean is that unless we are honest about our priorities and reduce them down towards a list of one, we will not live the life we choose, but rather we will do whatever makes the loudest (or most uncomfortable) demands on us at any given time.

For the past 5 years I have prioritised my business, Custom Canine Care, over everything else. Perhaps initially that was essential to make it happen, but for at least the last couple of years I have allowed it to become something that has demanded priority, rather than me giving priority to it as a conscious choice. It shouted the loudest and most urgently. I feel that it’s important to note that in my heart, the business is not my priority. My children, family, close friends and Pete (who fits into at least two of those categories!) would all trump the business. So would my health and well being. That they haven’t been prioritised in any practical sense was more about them demanding less than about me wanting to give less. This year, is in many regards about breaking that cycle – and it’s hard. Only yesterday, I had to say “no” a longstanding client, who I care about a great deal. It was painful…

I am currently listening to a book called Essentialism, by Greg McKeown and am finding it to be one of those “right place, right time” books for me. He teaches that the pursuit of less is more likely to enable us to achieve more of the stuff that is important to us. I began this year with so many things that I wanted to achieve/begin/work on. If I continue to do things as I have over the past 3 months, I’ll achieve very few of them. Time to take a close look at what I want to prioritise and what I need to let go of to achieve that.

I feel that there are five main areas of my life that I should look at to determine priority.

  • Self (health and wellbeing)
  • Relationship
  • Family
  • Friends
  • Work

Each of these areas of life represents myriads of hopes, desires and challenges for growth. Things I would like to do, make happen, experience and learn. Over the next few days I plan to drill down into them and discover true priorities, and if I can… one priority for each that will take my focus until it’s done. Will let you know how I get on.

Life between house sits and my first E-book

Mar2

Today I am back at the Durham Grange campsite and it’s cold, wet and quite windy. I did my monthly sit at Mak and Fern’s house last weekend, during which, I managed to get a large area of the inside of the van propely cleaned out. Pete dropped over on the Sunday and fixed the waste water drainage pipe, which had started leaking for the second time. The pipe dropped onto the road during a journey last Summer, resulting in the terminal tap having to be removed, as the friction from the road had worn a large hole in the pipe above it. After this episode, we removed the tap, shortened the pipe (to get rid of the hole) and I’ve been using it as an open pipe and just draining it continuously into a bucket ever since. Until last week, when it began leaking from the other end of the pipe, where it attatches to the van. So Pete took the whole thing off and attached a new length of waste pipe, then added back in the old tap to make it fully functional again. Yay! One less bucket to carry around!

I can’t believe how quickly time is passing. With one sixth of my year behind me, I came to realise how little I had achieved towards my writing goals. I am not unrealistic and I know that a year will only make a small dent in all that I want to fulfil, but at the very least I would like to

  • get a Scuttling Gourmet blog based website up and running in place of the current Shunamite Rats site and create some Rat Diet E-books on there.
  • start a blog based website on the subject of setting up and running a dog service business, along with creating some short E-books on the subject.
  • write some poetry.
  • develop this blog.
  • maintain the dog blog and Custom Canine Care site.

Today I spent preparing a section of the Scuttling Gourmet for publication as an E-book, essentially un-formatting text and correcting irrelevant references to other pages and chapters. I have the whole chapter done, and now just need to reformat headings and the like to make them compatible with a Kindle reader. Then I will publish Rat Diet – feeding for longevity, well-being and in old age on Amazon. I have spent some time in past weeks, reading through the whole publishing process and it doesn’t seem beyond me. Watch this space. Of course, I’ll have to employ someone from fiver to create a cover.

Tomorrow, I’m picking up Imogen from her place of work near Durham and we are heading over to Thursby to visit Mum and Dad, before the big op. It will be lovely to have some social “time out”. March is essentially house-sit-month. Not ideal to be doing three or four in a row, but I guess that’s how it will roll at times. Next time I find myself on a site – 22nd March – I’ll be staying North West of Newcastle near St Mary’s lighthouse at the Old Hartley site. I’m looking forward to having more choice, as all the sites open after the Winter break. Being by the sea, and in an area with some gorgeous walks might lead to Old Hartley being one of my favourites.

A different kind of busy – what is rest?

Feb6

“A sabbatical year” sounds grand and a tad pretentious, with connotations of rest! But what is rest and does it have to be an inactive or passive thing?

Consult a dictionary and rest is one of those words that has multiple meanings, indeed dictionary.com lists no less than 39! Having sifted them, I’ve slid beyond the concepts of stillness, peace, sleep and death (yikes) and settled on these as a good fit:

“Relief, or freedom, especially from anything that wearies, troubles or disturbs.”

equally

“A period or interval of inactivity, repose, solitude, or tranquillity.”

My primary hope in taking a year ‘out’, was to find relief and freedom, and to settle some of the things that weary, trouble and disturb me. Helping Joe – my youngest son – move towards independent living, was one of these, and I am delighted with the way he’s settling into a bigger workload (he works for me) and managing in his own flat in Byker. I was also troubled by the invasive constancy of dog related work. This has naturally abated, as I can only do certain types of work from the van: writing, reading, planning, admin, learning and so on. I do a little day care, walking and/or house sitting work when I am in Newcastle, but try to keep my schedule light and most of my evenings free.

Other little troubles and disturbances (of well-being) have cropped up for me over the past month, but they have all been from what I would call teething problems. Things not working in the van, or not having access to things I need and “settling in” type issues for Joe (in his flat), Imogen and Chris (at my rented house) and me trying to achieve some sense of order and – dare I say it – routine.

So far the worst have been

  • forgetting to bring things back with me when I return to the site. I’ve lived through everything from no lap top charger to no toilet roll, no gas to no hairbrush.
  • endless trying to sort out Joe’s flat/electricity/council tax/fridge/sofa/cooker and so it goes on.
  • doing booking visits without the right admin forms because the printer is at the rented house and I don’t want to disturb Imogen and Chris AGAIN!
  • not being able to post eBay sales out the next day (as promised), because I am on the site and they are at Pete’s.

Teething troubles. Little hiccups that ruffle the surface, but my internal stress levels are definitely on a downward trend, and everything from thinking, to writing, to nocturnal wandering is easier when not disturbed by (or disturbing) the presence of 3 or 4 canines who don’t normally live together. I very much enjoy the predominant noise being the weather and not barking or throaty play!

I allow myself some inactivity – I’ve reached the end of the last season of House for the first time (at last!) and make a point of thinking and making notes if I feel troubled by anything. But I often find rest in simply doing something different and I try to set myself some goals in terms of getting things done when in the van, otherwise it would be easy just to do whatever I feel like at any given time. That’s fine, some of the time, but I do have things that I really want to achieve during this year. Over the past week I have

  • converted my business website to a WordPress blog-based site,
  • updated the content there,
  • written the next issue of The Dog Zone,
  • delved deeper into marketing,
  • worked out some content for a new project for supporting people who are setting up a dog care business,
  • learned to cook stuffed peppers in the slow cooker,
  • dug my digital SLR out of hibernation and re-educated myself as to how it works… and so it goes on.

I know that the practical details will become easier – more streamlined – with time. The one thing that has been an ever present force for good in all of this is Pete! Spending more time together has been effortless and affirming. I enjoy my time at his house at least as much as my time in the van, for which I am deeply appreciative.

 

The life I choose

Jan28

Today my mind wandered around the nooks and crannies of the question of what I am doing here. Not here on the blog. I mean here – in this physical, mental and emotional space – and perhaps not even what I am doing here, but rather, what I want to be doing here. What am I hoping to achieve?

My 20 exercise books hold clues to what I want to work on over the next year and beyond. They are entitled:

  1. Custom Canine Care (this is the name of my business)
  2. Running a pet services business
  3. Marketing and SEO
  4. Cooking in a van
  5. Stuff!
  6. Foraging for food
  7. Living the life I choose
  8. Multiple income streams
  9. Living in a van
  10. Life with less waste
  11. Making money on eBay
  12. Not for profit business practice
  13. Dog friendly pubs and walks
  14. Blogs
  15. A year like no other
  16. My income 2016
  17. Current notes (just scrap really, where I record all my day to day must do items, phone numbers, addresses, wages, invoicing etc).
  18. Massage therapy
  19. Blank
  20. Blank

Each is designed for making notes, recording thoughts and things learned from audios and books and life. Many are potential embryonic books themsleves. Some will no doubt slip into disuse and oblivion, possibly to be resurrected at some future ‘right moment’. Possibly not. Perhaps what I want to do above all else is to try to communicate the reality, that our lives are our own. That we can live the life we choose minute by minute, day by day, and that such a life can be fluid and undefined. So often we live under a limiting sense of inadequacy, by which I mean we often think (dream) of doing things, but never explore them fully because we feel unable, constrained by a life we chose decades before and limited by an internal feeling that our health, fitness, inner strength, physical resources, mental capacity, natural ability and so on are just not “enough”.

I am not suggesting that anyone else should live the life I choose, for that is mine and my journey is unique to me. But whatever you have inside you – that draws you – is the life that you can choose for yourself. I grew three children from scratch before I ever got around to growing myself. Often times we expanded each other and I met some truly catalytic people along the way, but in the end I had to choose for myself  – essentially to “suck it and see”. This is the life I choose: To try. To test. To learn. To grow. To try. Then as the Levellers song so eloquently puts it:

“…and if this life is not for me, then I will choose another.”

I took a little look into cupboard two today and realised that I haven’t opened it before over the past month. That seems a good indication that the things in there might not be needed and – on further investigation – this turns out to be the case.

It contains:

  • a plastic tub of decorative houseware, such as candles and my 50th birthday present from Alison and Lloyd, which is a framed drawing of the three of us in rat form,
  • an air compressor that might only rarely be needed to re-inflate a tyre in an emergency,
  • a spare wash-bag,
  • an empty plastic container.

I decide to remove all of these things, stow the air compressor away under the seats, put the tub of houseware into the bunk space (less accessible) and take the rest out of the van when I am next in Newcastle. Instead, I have filled the space with two plastic tubs full of dog stuff (leads, harnesses, bowls, treats etc) that have been on the bunk, as they have been used quite frequently over the last few weeks. Tomorrow I travel back to Newcastle to spend some time with Pete. We’re going to a Stephen Wilson gig on Saturday evening at the City Hall. Looking forward to it!

Coming home, well-being and Stuff!

Jan21

Today is transition day; the day in the five day cycle when I head back to Newcastle to do some hands-on dog care and catch up with Pete and the kids. I was struck last week, as to just how good it feels to have all my (now adult) children in Newcastle again, all in their own separate living spaces and all thriving within their different choices. For the first time in a very long time, I feel that they have each found their own habitat (the natural environment of an organism), where they can flourish and I no longer need to worry about their well-being. I say worry, but for those of you who know me, the choice of word will jar like tripping over an uneven paving stone. I don’t worry! Indeed, I am usually the queen of “laid back”, but what I do experience in bucket-loads is an overwhelming sense of being responsible for the welfare of those around me. To some degree, this has always been my Achilles heel.

Indeed, the reason why the 24 hour presence of multiple dogs in my home, 365 days a year, took its toll was as much to do with the burden of responsibility, as it was the lack of a social life or the gradual destruction of the house. My recurring ‘nightmares’ never featured coming home to find a hole in the arm of my leather settee, or the beautiful blinds that Lloyd and I chose together, a mangled, dog-chewed mess on the floor  – though these things were the reality of my daily experience. No! In the divine depths of REM sleep, I could generally be found discovering unkempt and underfed animals in the far flung corners of my home, which had morphed seamlessly into a smallholding with numerous hiding places. Not feeling responsible for everyone else’s well-being is something I am trying to learn. Nurturing my own well-being (which historically has often been neglected), even more so.

Wolf 2 - the motorhome

Wolf 2 – the motorhome

Which brings me back to today and my journey home along the A690 and the A19. [Aside: I wrote that instinctively, but am now wondering about home and where my home really is. I am pretty certain that ‘home’ is not a house (not mine, nor Pete’s), nor is it Wolfie… she’s utilitarian, a means to an end. I do feel that coming back to Newcastle is a homecoming, but whilst I clearly have an affinity to the city, I wonder whether home is actually wherever my people are?] As I journeyed I listened to a piece on Radio 4 about consumerism, minimalism and our relationship with stuff. This is one of the areas of life that I would like to write about at length this year. Stuff. I haven’t – yet -whittled my own stuff down to only what I can fit into a very small van. I have a few possessions at Pete’s, along with two large boxes of eBay sales stuff. My own house I’m renting to my daughter, Imogen, and her partner, Chris. I’ve rented it furnished, just because that made sense, but in my mind the furniture is part of the house, not “my stuff”. I have a few boxes of things I won’t need in the van – but don’t want to get rid of – left in the garage, plus boxes of Scuttling Gourmet; my book on rat nutrition. I’ve never been materialistic, but I have always had loads of ‘useful’ stuff. Things I would hold onto in case I needed them one day (never). Clothes in every size between the UK16 I am now and the 10-12 I aspire to be. Craft stuff. Dog Stuff. Rat stuff. Kids stuff. Spare stuff. Stuff!

 

Life begins at…

Jan20

…21? 40? 50? Conception? All of the above?

It’s a journey isn’t it? And – like any journey – it has moments of flying at speed with the wind in your hair and moments of sitting stationary on a motorway in Bank Holiday traffic, with your legs crossed and a simultaneous – somewhat curious given the need to pee – longing for a cup of tea. Start. Stop. This year, two thousand and sixteen, is a year of flying at speed for me, which sounds paradoxical because it’s actually a sabbatical year. According to dictionary.com that’s

any extended period of leave from one’s customary work, especially for rest, to acquire new skills or training.

Yes! ‘Rest’ plus ‘new’ is exactly my purpose here. But if the journey is life, then it’s hard to locate the beginning of the story in order to start at it. With that in mind, I am going to start with today and allow the past to be revealed by the future at the appropriate time.

Today I am writing this on a three and a half year old HP laptop, which my computer-wizard, middle son, Stephen, tells me is (statistically) knocking on the door of a laptop graveyard, but seems to serve me well. The geriatric HP is on the table of my 11 year old Elddis Autoquest 100 motorhome, AKA Wolf 2, tiny (by modern motorhome standards) but beautiful. Wolf is on hard standing – a pitch at a caravan/camping site that has a tarmac/gravel base rather than grass – at Durham Grange caravan site in the North East of England. This is home for three nights out of five at the moment, with the other two spent with Pete, my person, in Newcastle.

“Why live in a motorhome?” is such a long story that it will have to unfold over time, but essentially I am escaping from work that had become 24/7 (quite literally), almost every day of the year. I am also deeply in love with evolving as a human being, so embracing the new goes with the territory. I want to expand who I am.

“Why Durham Grange?” is easy. It is the best (for me) of the North East sites that stay open all year round, and I chose to begin this leg of my journey on Monday, January 4th 2016 (Van Day). It’s easily accessible from Newcastle, where many of my important people live and where my thriving Pet Services business, Custom Canine Care (CCC) is based. It was impossible to believe that putting miles between us would somehow completely relinquish her  – are businesses female? I feel she is – grasp on my life, so I do not think of myself as travelling just yet. I am simply finding out how running CCC remotely works out for us both. Durham Grange is also well serviced for the size of the site, and I wanted somewhere with indoor facilities for laundry, dishwashing etc. These things make a huge difference when the weather is awful (as I anticipated it might be from time to time during a north east winter!) and you are running the van without a full water system to avoid any issues with frozen pipes.

Enough for today.