There’s no denying it. We’re in the final stage of this year’s journey. It’s the final pivot point, where we turn to start the trek west to Cornwall, to winter the motorhome before we head home.
2019 has been quite the trip, the longest to date, almost five months by the time we make it home. Including last year’s “Autumn in Europe” trip, we’ll have been travelling for nine months of the last twelve. No wonder I feel a little disconnected. For the first time, I’m truly ready to be coming home.
Himself meanwhile, is on a mission. He wants to see and assess the latest motorhome models which are about to be released in the UK. He’s convinced that one in particular is the one for us in Australia. As yet undecided is whether we’ll buy it here, then ship it home, or keep the one we have here and buy a second one in Australia. Or keep this one, buy a second one here, for Australia, then ship it home. Many moving parts to this equation, as you can see. One thing is certain, having done this for seven years now, we have a very specific list of what what works for us and what doesn’t.
Most of the day is spent on the motorways, mired in the rain that was meant to have come last week. Himself has located a dealer along the way, but our arrival in the late afternoon doesn’t deliver the new models. All they have in stock are the smaller, 3.5 tonne and smaller versions. I can see their appeal, given UK’s tiny roads, but if there’s one thing we’ve learnt in our time on the road, it’s that space is precious.
It ends up a wasted journey. The place we need to be is hundreds of miles north, well out of our way, where the new model launch is happening.
We end the day with a drink in the local pub.
We’re the only strangers and attract a bit of friendly attention, especially when Himself needs to instruct the barman as to how to make my Bloody Mary.
I’m not blind, I know what’s coming next – despite the protestation that it’s too far, there’ll be a push to go north, to see the new models. The weather is going to be foul – rain and flood warnings preceed us. I can’t think of anything I’d rather do less at this point, quite frankly. I loathe being trapped in the car all day. Travelling north and back will mean days of it.
Winter is coming. For its sudden arrival, Autumn will have a short season, I feel.
Miss Baci Travels 