Lower Slaughter

SATURDAY 21-9-24

It wasn't a bad night at all and The Chef seemed to sleep much easier as well. We were in no hurry to get up and only decided to once lots of young whipper-snapper footballers were outside having football training sessions.

Rosina told me that she was up for attempting a walk today, but not the whole distance to Upper Slaughter, so we settled for trying to get to Lower Slaughter which was on the way.

I packed a small flask of coffee and macs in my backpack and we set off for the village to buy a couple of Cornish pasties for lunch. Loaded up with everything we set off.

What The Chef didn't realise, not having looked at the map, was that reaching the beginning of the public footpath to Lower Slaughter walking all the way through the village on tarmac paths was equivalent to about half the walk, which was nice actually, because just as she was asking how much further it was I was able to point to buildings just down the track which was the village.

Once there we enjoyed our pasties which were still warm, having been sealed away in a plastic box to stop them from being crushed.

Then it was a little wander around the village before we made our way back, all at a nice gentle pace. Back in Bourton-on-the-Water we popped in to their very nice, posh Co-op shop and bought a loaf of bread and some dounuts.

Once home we got our walking boots off and made ourselves comfortable as well as reading the paper. That in itself is rather depressing. I know that if I was a member of a militant anti Israeli group I'd be popping down to my local mobile phone shop and asking if they've got any special deals on two tin cans and a length of string. Closer to home too many people are concerning themselves about what's happened to Zoe Ball, a bird on BBC Radio 2, who gets paid almost one million pounds a  year to sit in front of a microphone and talk to people and play a few records. Clearly the BBC feel she is worth far more than a cardiac surgeon who trains for many years in order to perform intricate operations in order to truly save people's lives. Who cares where she is, just as long as she's not being paid while she indulges herself, but no doubt she is. Maybe she's helping that perv, Huw Edwards spend the bonus he somehow earned whilst sat at home doing nothing except wondering what colour his cell walls would be painted. Honestly, they take we licence fee payers for absolute mugs.

So this is it. The last post on the last trip that will be covered by the blog. It's quite fitting really as I have just finished drinking my way through the last of six boxes of table wine I bought in Spain from Bodegas Santa Rufina, and held one back especially for this trip. Our last trip will be early summer next year when we'll be visiting some old favourites throughout France on our 'Farewell to France Tour', so there's no point in my trying to find new things to say about places we have already visited and written about. I'm going to indulge myself by not uploading nonsense on a daily basis which will free up a lot of my evening time.

The blog website was created after our first trip to Istanbul back in, I believe, 2015. That's when I thought it would be nice to share our experiences with others who may be contemplating doing something similar and could glean useful snippets of information amongst all the dross.

We've always referred to our outings as 'Trips' and never 'Holidays'. A holiday is something you go on with the anticipation of having fun. Our trips have been undertaken in anticipation of having a trouble free experience, but also being able to get ourselves out of the mire should we find ourselves in trouble. So they've all been experiences, some better than others, but all interesting in their own way, though it would be true to say our best trips were our first three. The two trips to America in 2008 and our first trip to Istanbul etc, back in 2015. Now they were exciting. Since then it's sort of been a bit downhill, I suppose we set the bar too high too early. But all of them have been an experience, and that's what life should be about.

We plan to sell 'Freddie Fendt' next summer after our last trip. I will miss him terribly, 'he's' been my hobby, but it's time to move on. We need to find new challenges, though as yet we've yet to work out just what they will be.

Eventually we expect to finish up sat on a coach holiday to who knows where, but if, by then, that's all we can manage, then so be it. Life is all about making adjustments to fit with your current situation, and that is far better than giving up and sitting on an incontinence pad in a chair in the corner of a nursing home paying £6000 a month for the privilege.

When I was about thirteen, I used to do the Football Pools with my dad. I would fill in the coupon and he would send it off in his name. We'd pay half each, in those days that was probably about five shillings for a potential  jackpot of £75,000. That was a hell of a lot of money in those days, though today would probably only buy you a fancy car.

I remember being sat in front of the telly checking off the football results one Saturday afternoon when I saw to my amazement we had won. I think there were eight draws and we had all of them. I ran through to the kitchen to tell my dad the news.

I will never forget the look on his face when he told me he hadn't posted the coupon because I owed him two weeks contributions. My poor old mum and dad would really have needed that money in those days, but it wasn't to be. What it did though was make me realise I was never meant to be rich, and so I never tried to be, instead placing emphasis on being healthy and happy.

Thanks to my darling Rosina I feel I have achieved all I ever wanted in life, and although I do two lines on the Euromillions twice a week. I don't give a fig if I win or not, because all that money would change very little in my life, I have all I need and want. And that's thanks to my loving partner, Rosina, to whom I owe so much.

So my final message will be 'Stop reading this nonsense and go find your own happiness and adventures'.

FRIDAY 20-9-24

It wasn't the best of nights. Neither of us got a lot of sleep, I think it must have been all the excitement of yesterday.

I was keen to get away at a reasonable time because I wanted to take a look at Jeremy Clarkson's new pub, now named  'The Farmers Dog' (N51.797199° W1.612086) as well as the shop at his 'Diddly Squat Farm' (N51.916633° W1.541269°). My thinking was that they would soon get busy and so we should try and avoid the rush.

We had to carry our waste with us today as there was nowhere to get rid of anything in the pub car park, but not to worry, we knew we could get ourselves sorted at Bourton-on-the-Water.

Having looked at the road atlas I decided to knock the pub on the head as it was a bit out of our way, probably wouldn't be open, and have loads of cars outside all misted up with Clarkson fans inside them waiting for it to open.

That would make life simpler as we just then had to head towards Chipping Norton and the farm, a journey of about ten miles. The roads in that area were pretty grim in places, with one road being blocked because a small village was erecting a funfair right in the middle of the road.

The farm shop entrance and that of a Camping & Caravanning Club site next door were a short distance down a minor road. As we slowed down ready to turn in to the farm shop entrance we couldn't believe what we were seeing. At about 10:00 on a weekday, there must have been about 150-200 people stood in a queue just to get in to the shop. We'd seen enough and didn't turn in to the car park, which was a shame on reflection, because it meant we had to carry on down that narrow country road for many a mile before the satnav had a chance to have a bit of fun with us.

Eventually we arrived here at the grounds of Bourton Rovers Football Club (N51.881367° W1.750370°) and happily paid them forty pounds for a two night stay. It seems they have a game on tomorrow and so I was pleased we weren't told to park anywhere near the back of the goal.

I was delighted to discover that we had both a decent television signal and Wi-Fi. We were in business.

After dumping and topping up the fresh water tank we decided to take a walk in to the village, somewhere we've been a number of times, and somewhere we're not now likely to ever return to.  More than anything, we're here to do a hike we always enjoy taking us through the villages of Upper and Lower Slaughter, however with The Chef still not feeling one hundred per cent we may not be able to do it. Maybe we can try covering part of it. We'll have to wait until tomorrow to see what she feels able to tackle.

The village of Bourton-on-the-Water is very nice indeed, however it's totally geared to taking money from the many tourists who pass through here every day.

The weather forecast was for one spot rain all afternoon we didn't see a drop from the clouds which hung around above us. That was until only minutes after we returned home when we had a flash of lightening and a clap of thunder followed by a heavy rain shower. Since then we've had numerous very heavy storms, the last one had hail as well as rain. Still, it should help to clean away any muck there may be up on the roof.

My only concern now is that we have enough power in the habitation battery to keep us ticking over until Sunday morning when we head for home. The problem being that the weather forecast is not looking too good, and without sun we can't generate electricity using the solar panel. If we manage to get out tomorrow that won't be too much of a problem, but if we end up staying indoors we could run a bit low before 'Strictly' comes on the telly tomorrow evening, and it's a programme The Chef enjoys watching.

So it's fingers crossed for tomorrow.

Stow-on-the-Wold

Bourton-in-the-Marsh

THURSDAY 19-9-24

Well, believe it or not, we had a good night's sleep, and thankfully The Chef is getting a bit better and hopefully now over the worst of her heavy cold. It has certainly pulled her down. We were getting rocked to sleep as the vehicle swayed from side to side as traffic passed by in rather a hurry.

Our first job was to contact the pub in Moreton-in-Marsh to make sure they could take us as they only have three spaces allocated to motorhomes. Fortunately they had one space available at the time of phoning and so we set off. Had they not been able to accommodate us we'd have had to scrub the visit and gone somewhere else.

So here we are in the car park of Inn on the Marsh (N51.986998° W1.704298°). It's  nothing fancy, but it's convenient. Imagine my displeasure in discovering the television signal here is rubbish and the internet non-existent. For a tiny, crowded little island we really should be able to get phone, Wi-Fi and television signals everywhere. We can cross the Channel and visit all manner of obscure places and still get phone and Wi-Fi. What a third-rate little nation we've become.

We decided not to bother with lunch and instead went for a walk around the village. When we reached the far end we went in to their very nice posh Co-op shop and had a coffee and toasted sandwich.

We wandered back down on the other side of the road treating ourselves to a nice ice cream along the way.

Despite the sunshine, such was the level of our tedium,  we decided to catch a bus to somewhere. That somewhere turned out to be Stow-on-the-Wold which was fairly local and had a regular service, which was important for our return journey. All we got of course was more of the same, gift shops, coffee shops and restaurants, only somewhere different. Never mind, it occupied our time.

Boarding the return bus I got chatting to an American couple who were trying to get to Birmingham, and were treating it all as an adventure. I really quite envied them.

This evenings meal was in the pub, and we found it well priced and they even cooked The Chef's fish & chips in a wok rather than risk an allergic reaction to shell fish because the scampi was also cooked in the same fryers as the battered cod.

Internet and television signals continue to evade us at this location, otherwise known as the far side of the moon.

Tomorrow we're off on a bit of a tour of the area ending up at the football club at Bourton-on-the-Water where we've parked up before. We have tried to contact them by phone without success and without internet can't progress any other form of contact. So we'll just turn up and play it by ear. If they won't accommodate us we'll be home on Saturday, and if they can, it will be Sunday.

This is the car Prioncess Diana drove from 1987 to 1991

The first ever Jaguar 'D' type. This was the factory prototype

As used by the SAS for desert warfare

THURSDAY 18-9-24

It was a warmer, more peaceful night and when I opened the habitation door this morning I was greeted with a very misty morning.

The big treat was that we got to enjoy another lovely, long , hot shower. I dumped everything the hard way because there were numerous doddery old sods using the dump station  and we'd probably not got away until tea time if I'd queued behind them.

Our first stop was just down the road to the local Sainsburys supermarket. The Chef prefers Tesco's but they were at the other end of town, and she only needed a few bits and pieces.

After that we were on our way to the British Motor Museum (N52.188988° W1.479220°) www.britishmotormuseum.co.uk  Not for my benefit you understand. It was The Chef who begged me to drag her along so that she could see the British Leyland crap that was built by militant unions and weak management between strikes and tea breaks, all under one roof.

We arrived at 11:30 and had lunch in the car park before going in.

 I have to say, it was quite impressive and a useful reminder that we did produce some amazing vehicles, and still do, though these days I think all the manufacturers are foreign owned. There were a number of vehicles associated with television and films as well as a car used by the Late Princess Diana.

I'm glad we came for a look round as we were certainly in the area, but I wouldn't have made a special trip to visit. Next door to the museum was the Aston Martin headquarters and Jaguar Landrover, and I think their factory may well be there.

By the time we came out the sunshine was out in a clear blue sky and so we just sat in the cab, or the conservatory as the Chef calls it, and soaked up the sun.

The museum closed at 17:00 but we hung around, firstly to let the rush hour pass and secondly to see if maybe we could stop here overnight. There was no signage to say no overnight camping/parking, but we felt they  must surely not permit it for security reasons.

In the end we decided to move anyway just in case we got as knock on the door late tonight telling us we couldn't stay.

I set the satnav to take us to a BRITSTOP pub in Moreton-in-Marsh in the hope we would come across a good layby before we arrived there. Luck was with us and we found a nice little layby along our route and it's here we'll spend the night. We have a good television signal and Wi-Fi. We've had less at places we've paid to stay at.

MONDAY 16-9-24

It was a very peaceful night until about 07:00 when the 'rush hour' started. But by then we'd managed a few good hours of sleep.

We were in no hurry to get up because we had nowhere to go until late morning, the reason being the Caravan Club campsite at Warwick won't take arrivals until at least 13:00.

When we did finally surface our meal was truly a brunch. I didn't make any effort to empty everything because we would be able to do that once we arrived at the campsite.

I think we pulled away about  midday for a journey of twenty-nine miles. First we were going to pop to Warwick's Tesco store for a few bits and pieces. On the way we nearly bagged ourselves a trophy. Having taken a left turn off a roundabout at the end of some dual carriageway we had a blue estate car in front of us. Suddenly it swung off the road in to a side road opening and with a right turn of the steering wheel proceeded to attempt a 'U' turn right in front of us. Fortunately I had anticipated the move and was able to bring us to a halt before she experienced a classic 'T' bone collision. I even had time to take my hands off the steering wheel and shake both fists at her. I think it frightened the crap out of her. I can only assume she'd taken the wrong exit off the roundabout, got annoyed about it and decided to swing the car round without giving any thought to vehicles behind her. If our 3500kg had rammed in to the side of her car she'd have been seriously injured. Most annoying of all was that I hadn't turned the dashcam on before we left, so that would have failed to provide us with evidence of her actions should we have needed it. But she was only the first if a few stupid drivers we experienced as we made our way across town to Tesco's. I was becoming quite concerned about the standard of driving around here.

After Tesco's it was off to the campsite (N52.279823° W1.5963°) on what has turned out to be a glorious sunny day.

After getting set up on what is in fact nothing more than a car park, though there is a section with proper grass pitches, we got the chairs out and sat outside for lunch followed by a nice snooze.

It couldn't last forever because I needed to get the housework done whilst The Chef continued to rest, though thank goodness she was now able to do so outside in the fresh air enjoying the warmth of the sun.

The Caravan Club handbook does say that the site has poor TV and Wi-Fi signals and it looks as if they're right because the telly couldn't find any channels at all.

The Chef is currently creating this evenings gastronomic masterpiece in the small electric oven which was sat on a small table outside. It's the first time she's been able to use it on this trip because this is the first electricity we've had since we left home.

Tomorrow we're going to be doing some hand washing first thing before then making our way in to town for a wander round. Reception did tell me there is a bus service from here to Stratford upon Avon and it's not very far. It would give us another option should we decide to stay an extra day, but I don't think my darling Rosina is fit enough yet to drag herself round another town so soon, but we'll see how she gets on tomorrow.

SUNDAY 15-9-24

My darling Chef took herself off to bed early yesterday evening only resurfacing again this morning. This left me having to fend for myself. So last night's meal was lots of egg noodles with a smothering of Chow Mein sauce washed down with lots of white wine which I'd managed to squeeze in to a full fridge.

We had a very peaceful night here in our layby (N52.400036° W2.10485°) and awoke to blue sky and cloud, though that didn't last long at all before it clouded over only to rain yet again at lunchtime.

This morning has been spent reading and feeding before lunch after which we went online to find out what's happening in the outside world. Whilst online I ran The Chef through our options for tomorrow and beyond, thanks to Google Maps. Our next intended destination is Warwick, but not the castle as we've already visited that. It was a long time ago, in fact we took Rosina's granddaughter, Charlotte with us for a weekend away and she thoroughly enjoyed the spectacle of knights jousting. Charlotte is now the mother of a teenager. My word, where does the time go?

We've decided, very grudgingly, to book a couple of nights at the Caravan & Motorhome Club's site on Warwick race course. We managed to get the only available hard standing pitch available until Wednesday. It seems they've got an event on at the moment, which is another way of them saying they've got a jamboree or rally of saddo's on at the moment, it could even be the 'Samaritans Sad Sods Camping Club (Northern Division)' renowned throughout the Mental Health industry for their love of sack races, knobbly knees contests, cup cake decorating and the always popular 'Guess who's Forgotten Their Medication?' competition. Maybe I'll just strip naked and run and join them in the hope of  winning a prize in their infamous 'Todgers in Bloom' contest.

Never mind. I'm trying to forget that on top of our annual subscription fee to rub shoulders with such people we're having to pay £79.00 for two nights. I can only assume they felt charging forty pounds a night was just a little too cheeky. Thank The Lord this is our last venture around the UK, and whilst I will be very sorry to part with 'Freddie Fendt' next year, I'm just gonna love cancelling my Caravan & Motorhome Club subscription.

So here we are on a Sunday afternoon. My darling Chef having tested herself for Covid 'cos she's felt so bad and getting a negative result, she's having now to console herself with only having a 'Ferocious Cold'' as she describes it, has taken herself off for a lie down, which is the most sensible thing for her to do. In the meantime I shall upload this nonsense and put the telly on and watch a film. We don't have a very good television signal here, we keep getting bits of interference, but I reckon if I keep blinking my eyes I won't notice it.

A Polaris ICBM missile, as carried by RN submarines before being replaced by Trident.

Vulcan

Victor

Valiant

SATURDAY 14-9-24

It was a peaceful night, but The Chef wasn't feeling very much better this morning. There was no point in our remaining in the pub car park as she wasn't up to doing any kind of activity and so we moved on. Firstly it was a stop at the Tesco store a few miles down the road for a few bits and pieces, then off to our destination. Not too far down the road we came across a garage which sold LPG and so we were straight in. These days LPG costs one pound a litre, it doesn't seem so long ago that it cost half that, but then I suppose there was a time when ten Woodbine cigarettes were thruppence a packet.

It felt so good to be stocked up again with gas. We carry two large cylinders and we've only used one so far which is pretty good considering it's powered the fridge 24/7 except for the hours we've been driving, provided us with all our hot water and central heating as well as the cooking. It now means we won't have to worry about getting any further down the road (my Plan A was to fill at the Morrisons supermarket in Stratford upon Avon).

About half an hour later we arrived at the RAF Cosford Museum (N52.645174° W2.312840°) an air museum next door to RAF Cosford, which I think is used for training apprentices. It has a runway but no aeroplanes which is the way of things these days. As a pig flies, it's about halfway between Telford and Wolverhampton.

We were blessed with some glorious sunshine today which warmed the vehicle's interior up naturally. As The Chef wasn't feeling too well I went around the museum on my own after lunch whilst she took herself off for a lie on the bed.

It was rather a good museum, and I thought the 'National Cold War Museum' building was excellent. They had all three types of 'V' bomber together, the Vulcan, Victor and Valiant and it was even possible to walk under the Vulcan and see the bomb bay.

I think it took me just over a couple of hours to walk around it all, and whilst it was a pleasant experience I was keen to get back home to see how my darling Chef was getting on. I was pleased to see she was up and reading the TV guide, so that was some improvement.

As it was such a lovely afternoon I took advantage of my £6.50 parking fee (the museum itself was free) and deployed the large solar panel to top up our leisure battery, as well as sitting and having a read with the door open for much of the time.

The cunning plan for tonight was to park at another pub participating in the BRITSTOP scheme, but The Chef said she really couldn't face eating a full meal, and so 'Plan B' was to find a suitable layby and park up for the night. We may stay here tomorrow as well as it's supposed to be a wet one, and with Rosina not feeling well that would be preferable to paying through the nose to camp on a Caravan Club site among lots of boring old farts.