Showing posts with label Summer. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Summer. Show all posts

Monday, 2 September 2013

A Great Start


Well here we are again. It's that time of year when we get welcomed back to the farm and start preparations for Rockhill Rendezvous. There has been quite a lot of Airstreamy travels and gatherings this year, and we like to top it all off in extremely cool style with our long weekend of the most relaxed and friendly camping you can do in a field full of Airstreams.


So we kicked off the prep. with a very efficient team of volunteers and got the marquee raised on Saturday. One couple who came don't even know if their Airstream will be ready in time for the event, but came to help anyway! Those of us who were staying on the farm got to finish off the day with a very scrummy Indian takeaway, eaten in the garden, followed by a visit to the local "workshop bar", which just happens to be at the end of the lane. All extremely civilised and fun and just a day spent with the loveliest and most helpful people you could imagine. We're well chuffed.



Thursday, 8 August 2013

Summertime Neighbours


These are our neighbour's flowers. We have neighbours in the summertime. During the winter full-timing can be more quiet and solitary, in the summer we meet more long-termers. Well, that's around here anyway. We have found this friendly site with its incredibly accommodating and laid back owner, and due to the projects that Pete has been involved with recently our travels have been short, and usually starting from this same spot.

So it would appear that the combination of a really nice 'landlord', relative peace and quiet  and lots of green scenery brings people back year after year. Our opposite neighbour has been coming here for years, stays for a few weeks and then pops home for a bit to keep and eye on things there and pick up her post. A couple who spend their winters in Spain return here for about three months each summer to catch up with family and friends, attend weddings, that sort of thing.

And I've got used to seeing them. My hermit tendencies have receded just enough for me to pass the time of day, and so when Pete returns from a day of fixing up Airstreams I can let him know that after three years I have learnt somebody's name, they are 71 years old and in training to run a marathon, their next-door neighbour back home just won the lottery, and I've been asked to water someone's plants while they go away for the weekend.

Our clever Gerbera that just keeps on flowering

Hermit tendencies is a slight exaggeration, but when you live in an Airstream you can spend an awful lot of your time explaining what it is, where it's made, admitting that it costs  more than any other caravan, and why. And sometimes that's a lovely thing to do, other times I might just be trying to do my chores quickly and efficiently so that I can get on with my day. So you develop a way of making fleeting eye-contact and giving a short, friendly greeting, just enough not to be rude but brief enough to be able to move on. Often, someone will say, I didn't know they still made them. That happened yesterday and, when I offered my brief explanation it clearly wasn't brief enough and the chap who had started the 'conversation' cut me short and started to walk off. Suits me.

I know this all makes me sound pretty antisocial. But it's a common experience. Ultimately I am trying to avoid a situation that has happened too often, which is when someone, typically a middle-aged man (that's just a fact, not a judgement on age or gender) comes up to me while I'm busy, makes an opening statement like, I bet it takes a lot of cleaning. I say, no not really. He then tells me all sorts of facile misconceptions about Airstreams, or worse, tells me all about his caravan, not noticing that I am not actually asking or agreeing with any of it. He just goes on and on. He might tell me stuff I already know, but he hasn't got the perceptive skills to realise that I know stuff too, or he doesn't care, because he's a crashing bore!

There, that's what can happen. That's what has happened, a lot! And that's what I'm avoiding with my dark glasses or shifty glances. On the other hand you don't want to miss out on genuinely interested and interesting people, because there are plenty of those too, and it can make your day to have an unexpected friendly encounter. And having vented and ranted, I'll just go back to our lovely neighbours and point out that the long-termers and full-timers know about all of this and mostly respect each other's space. So you get a friendly little chat about the weather or a trip out somewhere, then move on. I know that they would help me if I needed it, and vice versa.

Wednesday, 24 July 2013

Airstream Road Trip



One of the main Airstreamy events this summer, so far, has been a trip to Germany with a convoy of British and European Airstreamers. Back in June the destination was a big gathering of Airstream owners in Weilburg, organised by the team at Airstream Germany. As a group we had decided to take our time getting there. Starting with a meet-up in Kent, we gave ourselves a week to get to Weilburg, with two stops in Belgium, meeting and picking up more Airstreams along the way.

It's an interesting experience to travel with others, especially since, as full-timers, we travel a lot, but usually by ourselves. We have become very used to our way of doing things, it's our way of life, and for the duration of a group road trip you have to compromise and try to adapt to the consensus. Well that's the theory anyway. The trick, if you're comfortable with your own company and used to your own space, is to try to strike a balance between doing your own thing and doing group stuff.

I'm not usually a big fan of group excursions, but I do love evenings spent with other like-minded people, catching up on the day's events, lubricated with some wine and beer, and preferably outdoors. We found that 'Happy Hour', or Beer o'clock, got earlier and earlier as the trip progressed. Actually, this was the best rhythm for me. We'd had a lot on our minds before the trip, and knew that we would have a lot on our plates when we returned, so a routine consisting of a bit of travelling, a couple of days of gentle tourism and plenty of al fresco evenings was just right. And after all, the main event was coming at the end of the week. I recall in my previous life as a dancer, our artistic director's advice when we embarked on foreign tours was, "Don't peak too early". It pretty much covers everything, and it still applies.

The Euro meet in Weilburg was a big success. It was lovely to reconnect with friends from the previous Euro gathering that took place two years ago in Venlo, Holland, as well as friends we have met since then. The European community feels like it is starting to gel. We are quite dispersed, but if we meet up every now and then we just might become one big, international family. Airstreamers are meeting up in small and large groups in the UK, The Netherlands, France, Germany and probably beyond. And with blogs and social media you sometimes feel that you know people before you've even met.


Of course the extended family, who we hear from but rarely see, is in the USA. That's where Airstreaming began after all. Right from the beginning of mine and  Pete's travels, back when we were just taking a year off from the crazy, one of our early well-wishers was Rich Luhr, editor of Airstream Life magazine. He and his family have spent several years full-timing on and off in America. Well, we finally got to meet Rich and his wife, Eleanor at the big Euro Gathering. Putting a face to a name doesn't really cover it, we had plenty in common. Comparing stories of Airstream full-timing and organising gatherings, I really felt the difference in scale. It's a cliche that we Brits think that everything is on a massive scale in the US, but it's true. They now have four massive gatherings, all with an "Aluma..." theme. Obviously there's already over 75 years of Airstream love to work with. Rich also gave a slide show about travelling to the National Parks, which he described as the true America. I could see his point. That is natural beauty on a huge scale, which apparently could take you ten years if you embarked on visiting all of it .

The end of the weekend, always sad, was typically melancholy. Some of the Brits left separately, either to return home or to continue their travels in Germany. Our convoy buddies, Dave and Jean had to zoom back for work and the imminent arrival of a new grandchild. We had spent a lot of the trip together and like a soft ninny, I felt the separation. We needed to get back too, but had decided to break up the Weilburg to Calais journey with a stop off in Belgium.

Our site, about 30km south of Brussels was in the grounds of a stately home of sorts. As usual, it looked more impressive in the guide book! I was somehow able to conjure up some rusty French to book and communicate on arrival. Actually, our first choice of site had failed to confirm my attempts at booking by email and phone, which we had interpreted as a laid back way of doing things. On the way there though, as we stopped for a break, it occurred to me that the guide book we'd found them in was two years old and they might no longer exist. A quick check online showed that they were not a touring site any more. So, it was one of those lay-by map-scouring, campsite guide book sifting moments. And that's how we found this odd site with its faded glory that led to an almost deserted array of permanent caravan plots and a collection of tatty facilities. But the sun was shining and we had plenty of Belgian beer to keep up the Happy Hour tradition for two more nights. And, as it turns out, it's good to have a bit of quiet time by ourselves at the end of a gathering. It sort of allows all the buzz and happenings to settle and digest.




Friday, 19 July 2013

Not Cool


The fields around us have been blueish recently. It's a delicate hue. Apparently they are linseeds. I had no idea we needed to grow so much linseed. Up close, the stems dance dreamily in the breeze. I, meanwhile, try to capture the breeze by extending my arms at shoulder level, like an over-heated bird.

Maybe I am an over-heated bird! 30 degrees is not my optimum temperature. Not complaining, I'm adapting. Today I made dinner at 10am while the trailer was still relatively cool. I felt like a Stepford Wife and it really screwed up my day.