I Make My First Long Journey

Friday July 16th

Today everyone was up bright and early and everything was packed into me and I was off. Alan checked my oil and water, which was a wise thing to do. Alan and Mary said goodbye to Kathy and Mike and they headed out onto the A 14. The little kiwis all sat together on the back seat as they are taking a rest today and it is my turn to write the story.

The trucks were everywhere as this is the road that runs down and back from the port in Felixstowe. It is the second largest port in Europe and basically all the ships that supply the UK come in there. The freight is moved by trucks and there are plenty of them. They act like they own the road and change lanes constantly and try to overtake each other. One of them pulled in so close in front of me that I don’t know how it didn’t scrape my headlights. Suddenly a man in a car in the other lane popped out the passenger window nearly up to his waist, like a Jack- in- the- box waving his arms in anger at the truck driver. Not sure if he was doing it on my behalf, but it looked an impressive but rather dangerous display of road rage.

Alan had programmed the Tom Tom for the fastest route this time. It was so noisy on the road he had to hold it up to his ear to hear the lady who lives inside it talking and then relay the message to Mary. All along the A14 they have installed a series of big new electronic signs. They aren’t working yet. Under every single sign is a yellow sign which reads “sign not yet in use”. If it is not going wouldn’t that be obvious?

Mary has noticed that some people do have personalised plates over here, but they are unimaginative. They have not seen a clever one yet that says anything. They keep commenting about this. The only way you can tell that they are personalised over here is that they don’t fit the pattern. With seven spaces just imagine all the creative combinations you could come up with. Must ask her to think of a good one for me.

As well as the big trucks, people in lovely little open top sports cars weave in and out the lanes as well. It is trying to rain today so you do wonder why they are so keen to have the hood down especially with the amount of exhaust fumes on the motorways.

Mary looked at the petrol gauge and decided I needed refreshments, so they pulled into a highway BP. They looked after me, but found it impossible to get a park so drove on a lot further and finally found a place where they could stop and have coffee. This was a huge place where all the coaches call, called Cambridge Services. They parked me up by all the flash caravans and campers. Mary remembered the little girl in her class at New Milton, whose family stopped at a place like this for a meal and when they came back their caravan had gone. The dad had not bothered to get the wheel clamp out and they lost their caravan and all their stuff in it forever. Mary did notice that some sensible people had put their wheel clamps on, but others hadn’t. They are very good at putting the lock on my steering wheel and the alarm on, but they have to be as it is a condition of the insurance.

Back on the road again and still on the A14 which seems to go on forever. Alan thought he had programmed the Tom Tom to keep me off the M6 toll road, but no, I was suddenly on it and what a joy it was too, three lanes and nearly no trucks. We made really good progress and the weather was still pretty good. They pulled off at the last services before having to pay the toll to have lunch, which they had brought with them. Mary saw a RAC man selling memberships and suggested to Alan that it might be sensible to join just in case I broke down one day. If I was to feel a little unwell on the motorway, it costs a fortune for the “ambulance” to come, so they joined up for peace of mind.

Being a VW campervan on the road means you belong to a very special elite club and no other VW van will go past you without a wave, a toot or a flash of the lights, How cool is that. I got quite a few friendly gestures yesterday and expect to get a lot more. A group of young guys with a foreign plate came up behind me tooting and waving madly in quite a new flash number. They had all the bikes on the back and were heading north.

Once they had paid the £10 (costs £5 for a car) for the motorway toll, we were back on the old M6 and that is when it the weather got nasty and everything started going slowly. The big signs (these ones did work) had messages on them telling us of queues at specific junctions and slowing everyone down to 40mph. Not a problem for me; 55 is fast. There was lots of stopping and starting and cars and trucks weaving through lanes trying to get ahead, but in the end you just had to patient. By now it was pouring down and the road was very wet. The big signs had new messages telling people that there was spray and to take care. However the warning must have come too late for some as there were a few nose to tail crashes, and cars waiting to be towed away. This is what was causing the delays. It made the last part of the trip very slow, but after eventually after finding a superstore to get a few things, we arrived at our destination around 5pm.

They are still taking bags into people’s houses and sleeping inside! No sign of a campsite or sleeping in me yet! This time they are staying with Joyce Hooper ( a relative) who they have visited several times before and who has been to NZ to see them as well. So they left me parked in the drive and headed inside for drinks, dinner and lots of chat.