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Soarerv8

Über Member
Used to have a tent, but junior school aged children turned into teenagers, who need wifi otherwise their lives are meaningless, so we now have 'proper' holidays (Hotel and Cottages) rather than wet and windy weeks on the Gower Peninsular. My parents took me on caravanning holidays when I was a kid, so try and avoid them now, to be fair they dragged me away every other weekend to some field in the middle of no where, to eat food that was either raw for incinerated. I'm sure I saw people enjoying nice sites the other side of the hedge of the field we were in!
Oh yes we shared a childhood by the sound of things. My early teenaged years were a mass of seething fear of the words "looks like a nice weekend for going away in the caravan Margaret" (my mum's name not mine). This would then involve dragging the caravan down to Norfolk to stop in a field in the middle of nowhere. Witness about an hour of my parents having a passive aggressive row regarding putting the awning up (replicated a day later by them taking it down in case it rains as apparently putting a wet awning away is similar to feeding a gremlin after midnight).
Then not being able to go for a poo until we got home as the toilet was basically a bucket behind an incredibly flimsy door that burst open if anyone moved at all in the damned contraption and even if you could stand the shame of doing this whilst anybody else in the caravan made loud conversation to try to cover up what you were doing it would then lead to my Dad complaining whilst emptying the s*it bucket about it containing solids.
And these aren't even the worst things, I was unable to sleep through fear that any noise at all during the night might be my parents doing Mummy and Daddy stuff less than 10 feet from me.
So no, I don't have a caravan.
 

kipster

Guru
Location
Hampshire
Oh yes we shared a childhood by the sound of things. My early teenaged years were a mass of seething fear of the words "looks like a nice weekend for going away in the caravan Margaret" (my mum's name not mine). This would then involve dragging the caravan down to Norfolk to stop in a field in the middle of nowhere. Witness about an hour of my parents having a passive aggressive row regarding putting the awning up (replicated a day later by them taking it down in case it rains as apparently putting a wet awning away is similar to feeding a gremlin after midnight).
Then not being able to go for a poo until we got home as the toilet was basically a bucket behind an incredibly flimsy door that burst open if anyone moved at all in the damned contraption and even if you could stand the shame of doing this whilst anybody else in the caravan made loud conversation to try to cover up what you were doing it would then lead to my Dad complaining whilst emptying the s*it bucket about it containing solids.
And these aren't even the worst things, I was unable to sleep through fear that any noise at all during the night might be my parents doing Mummy and Daddy stuff less than 10 feet from me.
So no, I don't have a caravan.
This just had me in tears :laugh:

You've bought back some memories that I had obviously suppressed :cry:
 

Soarerv8

Über Member
This just had me in tears :laugh:

You've bought back some memories that I had obviously suppressed :cry:
Wish I could suppress that bit of my memory, seeing a Swift Corniche or something similar being dragged down the road behind a Volvo brings it all flooding back.
 
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Guru
Location
Powys, Wales
Oh yes we shared a childhood by the sound of things. My early teenaged years were a mass of seething fear of the words "looks like a nice weekend for going away in the caravan Margaret" (my mum's name not mine). This would then involve dragging the caravan down to Norfolk to stop in a field in the middle of nowhere. Witness about an hour of my parents having a passive aggressive row regarding putting the awning up (replicated a day later by them taking it down in case it rains as apparently putting a wet awning away is similar to feeding a gremlin after midnight).
Then not being able to go for a poo until we got home as the toilet was basically a bucket behind an incredibly flimsy door that burst open if anyone moved at all in the damned contraption and even if you could stand the shame of doing this whilst anybody else in the caravan made loud conversation to try to cover up what you were doing it would then lead to my Dad complaining whilst emptying the s*it bucket about it containing solids.
And these aren't even the worst things, I was unable to sleep through fear that any noise at all during the night might be my parents doing Mummy and Daddy stuff less than 10 feet from me.
So no, I don't have a caravan.
I have convinced my family that unfortunately the 'jiggle pin' has snapped, rendering the 'Number 2's' system completely inoperable. Number 1's only, but a shovel will be packed, in case of emergency.
 

Soarerv8

Über Member
I have convinced my family that unfortunately the 'jiggle pin' has snapped, rendering the 'Number 2's' system completely inoperable. Number 1's only, but a shovel will be packed, in case of emergency.
Add into this the possibility of "blow backs" and you should be safe from it ever being used.
 

RickB

professional procrastinator
Location
Norn Iron
Soo.... I take it a 'caravanning and camping cyclechat bkool get together' could be stretching it a bit.

Today goes down as one of the most amusing days on this thread yet. :laugh:
 

Vertego

Just reflecting on the meaning of life.
Location
North Hampshire
Oh yes we shared a childhood by the sound of things. My early teenaged years were a mass of seething fear of the words "looks like a nice weekend for going away in the caravan Margaret" (my mum's name not mine). This would then involve dragging the caravan down to Norfolk to stop in a field in the middle of nowhere. Witness about an hour of my parents having a passive aggressive row regarding putting the awning up (replicated a day later by them taking it down in case it rains as apparently putting a wet awning away is similar to feeding a gremlin after midnight).
Then not being able to go for a poo until we got home as the toilet was basically a bucket behind an incredibly flimsy door that burst open if anyone moved at all in the damned contraption and even if you could stand the shame of doing this whilst anybody else in the caravan made loud conversation to try to cover up what you were doing it would then lead to my Dad complaining whilst emptying the s*it bucket about it containing solids.
And these aren't even the worst things, I was unable to sleep through fear that any noise at all during the night might be my parents doing Mummy and Daddy stuff less than 10 feet from me.
So no, I don't have a caravan.

I have my own varied recollection of caravan related holidays - not towing but fixed site caravans (not even 'park homes') - a miscellany of family holidays in Cornwall, Dorset and even Wales!

But the best recollection was of long weekends away with my grandparents on the Isle of Wight. They lived in a caravan (again, not a park home). I would write - I'm sure many of us here might remember letters - no emails or phone (mobile or otherwise), to announce my anticipated arrival date. My grandmother would start cooking a chicken curry on the Thursday ready for my arrival on a Friday afternoon. I would then cycle from home just outside Reading, down through the New Forest to get the ferry from Lymington to Yarmouth, then on to the grandparents at Wootton Bridge. Saturday would be spent riding round or around the Isle of Wight, before cycling home on the Sunday.

Somehow I can't imagine many parents allowing their 14/15 year old do trips like that nowadays. What a shame.
 
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