After a month or so hiatus, yours truly is once again sampling the ambrosia borne from living a campervan life. My beau Sarah and me, along with her adorable dog Zella currently ‘moored’ on a site in Knaresborough, North Yorkshire.
Upon arriving at our domain for the next two days, the Ossett lass and I were greeted by unseasonably warm temperatures, wall to wall solar rays and little in the way of breeze. Affording us perfect conditions in which to erect our awning onto the vans side
The bivouac our lounge, dining room, storage cupboard and Zella’s bedroom for the next forty-eight hours. Our giddy German Shepherd, intrigued at the camping accessories construction, the only real hinderance to our smooth tent elevation.
Thankfully the job in hand was not undertaken in the fearful rainstorm greeting us later Thursday evening and overnight. An meteorological event seeing the campervan and awning subjected to a merciless night-time waterboarding at the hands of prevailing nimbostratus clouds.
Laying forlornly in her bed, Zella not knowing what to make of the din resultant from the storm. Even if she did, as I don’t speak fluent German Shepherd I would be at a loss as to those notions anyhow… When GJ Strachan states he does not speak fluent German Shepherd, he of course means he doesn’t in fact know any of the aforementioned canine patois.
As I write this literary offering, our party are awning in situ; to my left, Sarah playing a crossword game on her phone. Having forgotten to bring her ‘Janet & John’ books, the West Yorkshire beauty having to employ alternative strategies to augment her vocabulary… The lack of curse words in these brain tests not helping the buxom Tyke.
Zella is sleeping in her bed to my right. After a busy morning stealing half of my bacon sandwich, endearing herself to fellow campers and a walk, the old girl seems knackered.
Heart 80’s radio station provides a musical backdrop to penning this prose. The music of my 20’s/early 30’s taking me back to a time when… errr… well, I was 20 and 30.
As I escribe this paragraph, Duran Duran relaying the enchanting qualities of a lady called Rio in song lyrics. Simon Le Bon’s strained tones waking Zells from her slumber… Old furry face being subjected to an even worse cacophony than overnight when the rainstorm pounded our camping abode.
I am now listening to a lady singing ‘You are my one temptation.” Sadly, the exponent of these words is Sarah, not a professional musical performer on the radio… Now it is not just Zella’s lugs which are taking a fearful pounding!
Incidentally Sarah, if you’re reading this, do not take my self-indulgent teasing too much to heart. I did, after all, call you a lady; a first in itself.
Rod Stewart’s strained voice is now appealing, via refrain, to Baby Jane not to throw away their relationship. His laboured vocal delivery assuring her that their love will last forever… Knowing Rod’s womanising ways, I’ll give it two weeks.
Sarah continues with her online crossword game as I reach this juncture in the narrative. Laid in her basket, Zella is probably longing for a less constrained vocalist up next on the Heart 80’s playlist… I feel your pain Zells!
With the site bar/café allowing access to patron’s canines, the three of us spent a couple of pleasant teatime hours gracing the establishment. Ossett’s finest and me imbibing alcoholic beverages of the grape; Zells, who is partaking in ‘Go Sober for October’ to raise funds for a charitable cause, making do with tap water in a bowl.
Footnote – Zella, of course, is not participating in the ‘Go Sober for October’ appeal to raise charitable funds… She is a renowned old soak who could no more forgo alcohol than she could not chase cats.
Anyhow, whilst ensconced in the site bar yesterday evening, I raised a glass in the memory of a good friend from Gateshead who sadly passed away in the early hours of yesterday morning. He succumbing to an illness which had plagued him for around two years. My thoughts are with his widowed wife and adult sons… May he rest in peace.
