Welcoming Archie

This weekend will see a return to campervan life for my rebellious beau Sarah and me. After a couple of weeks where my mental health has gone through the floor, a much-needed fillip for yours truly.

I’ve written on many occasions about the low mood waves which engulf me at times. However, although tough plotlines to navigate, experience tells me liberty from the depressive malaise is never far away. Consequently, I do not fret overly when in the midst of these episodes.

Do not get me wrong, as I wander this comfortable retirement path, I do not want to pretend my life is difficult in any shape or form. GJ Strachan is fortune to be able to do what the heck he wants when he wants. Well, as long as it is not illegal and does not involve wearing lederhosen.

Sadly, though, experiencing an easy life does not always negate against these mood dips. A serendipitous lifestyle not always keeping my capricious mind from venturing into a world of perceived starkness.

That being said, a return to the writing desk this week, after a short hiatus, going some way towards raising my spirits. Green shoots of verve which will no doubt be augmented by the upcoming weekend break in Victor the VW campervan.

This sojourn within the East Yorkshire borders witnessing the inaugural use of our new awning, or Archie as I have just decided to call him… Well, we have given the mobile home a name, so why not attach a moniker to the accompanying living area… After all, I don’t want Archie to feel marginalised.

The awning, errrr I mean Archie, is bigger than our previous bivouac (who we shamefully did not name). Within its 3.9m x 3m x 2.2m area it kindly offers (well I thought so anyhow) a blackout bedroom pod. Affording the Ossett lass and me opportunity to invite family and friends along on future camping soirees, if so desired.

Sarah has been away on a work-related odyssey this week, so spending some quality time in her company will hopefully further flame my lukewarm spirits. During the subsequent five days, I have missed not being able to wind her up and receiving a barrage of curse words in response.

Hopefully, she will have missed me as well. If not, she can go bollocks and I will go camping on my own!

Seriously, though, the weather forecast is good, plenty of fresh air, there is a pub within a short walking distance, and we’ll have the company of her beautifully natured German Shepherd Zella. 

If that engaging brew cannot lift my mood, I will need to have a word with myself… I am not sure what that word would be, but it would be something of self-admonishment and would probably reside within the pages of Sarah Brook’s profanasaurus. 

Anyhow, I venture into the weekend on a positive note. Confident that time in the company of Sarah, Zella, Victor, Archie, Frankie the fridge, Arnold Airfryer, Kenneth Kettle and Timmy the toaster will elevate my state of mind to at least 8 (10 being the highest) on the ‘Life’s Not So Bad’ scale.

This camping sojourn will be the first trip away in Victor since a misguided decision to pitch him at a Scarborough campsite for two months. An occasion where I learned that, unlike tourer caravans, (in my opinion) campervans are not suitable for long term pitches in one place. 

The experience teaching me the limited walking/standing space within the van makes anything other than a few nights here and there diminishes the expedition’s enjoyment levels.

So this coming weekend, with as much excitement as I can currently muster, we will head east to the cusp of North Yorkshire’s National Park. Here we will introduce Archie to his new ‘family’. 

Sarah and I welcoming him into our camping accessory clan with open arms… Well, as long as he isn’t a pain in the arse to erect; in which case he will receive a curse laden introduction to the Strachan/Brook brood!… You have been warned, Archie!! 

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