Double the food budget

I have promised to take my 15yr old granddaughter to Amsterdam to celebrate her forthcoming 16th birthday. 

Years of experience of travelling with teenagers has taught me this:

1.  Do not expect conversation




2.  Take a good book with you (see point 1 above)


3.  Plan where to eat beforehand as a hungry teenager is not pleasant.  3(a) Double whatever you have budgeted for food and drink


4.  Plan your day carefully and remember that you will be awake at dawn and want to go to bed at 8pm whilst the teenager will want to sleep till noon and be awake till midnight


5.  Take two good books with you (see points 1, 2 and 4 above)


6.  Leave sufficient time each day for the teenager's shower, hair and make up ritual (take careful note of point 4 above as this could mean you do not leave the hotel until 2.30pm)



7.  Take some magazines with you (see points 6, 5, 4, 2 and 1 above)


8.  You may be visiting one of the most photographed cities in the world but although the teenager will take lots of photographs,  it will not be of the architecture, canals and bridges.  The photographs will be self portraits known as 'selfies'.  These will be shared via twitter, Facebook and Instagram at ten minute intervals


9.  Check once, twice and even a third time that wherever you are going has Wi-Fi (see points 1 and 8 above) 


10.  Remember that teenagers cannot walk very far and need refuelling every 15mns (see point 3 above).  Use food and shopping as incentives for walking more than half a mile (pack snacks)


11,  Do not try to be clever.  Keep it simple.  Your attempts at trying to speak the local language will not be appreciated by the teenager who will see this as a direct attempt to humiliate and embarrass him/her.   


12. Upon your arrival home you may feel despair that the teenager had the most awful time with you but through the world of social media and not conversation (see points 1 and 9 above  above), you will learn that the teenager had the most amazing trip ever.  You will not need to tell anyone where you went as you appear to have checked in everywhere on Facebook. 

If life gives you limes, make Margaritas

My sister is very lucky to live in Florida and I am very lucky to be able to visit her and use her spare bedroom.  On my recent trip she persuaded me to go on a 2 night Bahamas cruise despite the fact that both of us suffer from sea sickness and do not like sailing.  We survived the experience by taking more than the recommended dosage of travel sickness pills, drinking Margaritas and a cocktail known as Bahama Breeze. 




She also persuaded me to do a solo trip to Key West.  Before I could finish my cocktail, I had booked the Tri-Rail to Miami and my seat on the Greyhound bus to Key West.  I did think about staying at a hostel but sobered up enough to book a Bed and Breakfast place in the Old Town. 






The Tri-Rail fare cost under $10 (return trip) and the Greyhound cost $70 (return trip).  I was very disappointed by the customer service and facilities offered by the Greyhound Bus.  My impression of travel in the USA has always been one of really good service but the staff were rude and unhelpful plus only one vending machine was available at the bus station.  The bus made a stop at a Burger King which was a little underwhelming. 





Key West was fun.  It oozes history, quirkiness and charm.  I took the Conch Tour Train which was a great way to explore and see the main attractions.  You can feel the strong connection between history and culture and I loved seeing and hearing about it all.  The architecture is amazing with wooden houses built on posts. 




The one mile famous Duval Street felt safe and welcoming to a solo traveller.  I ate and drank at Jimmy Buffet's Margaritaville, popped into Sloppy Joe's for a cocktail then gate-crashed a drag queen's rehearsal at Aqua.  It was either Happy Hour or the drinks were very cheap but either way, I was made to feel very welcome.



No trip to Key West is complete without joining the crowd at Mallory Square for the Sunset Celebration.  Legend has it that Tennessee Williams initiated the ritual of celebrating the sunset with a gin and tonic in his hand however, even with my Starbucks, I appreciated the view. 

I do not know what happens to me when I leave home.  I appear to leave all sense and reason at the airport and do things I would not normally do.  I do not go to bars on my own at home, I do not swim in hotel pools alone at midnight and I do not sing with drag queens.  Actually, I would sing with a drag queen given any opportunity whether home or away but I definitely don't do the other stuff.
On my own, away from home I do it all and Key West was the best of places to do it in.

Is that safe?

There is a saying in the Bahamas 'don't let your mouth carry you where your foot can't bring you back from'.  I think that may also apply to putting yourself into situations you can't get out of!


One minute I was enjoying a Mojito in the hotel pool and next I am up in the air ready to puke the aforementioned cocktail.  All I said was 'I've never been paragliding' which prompted my action girl sister to drag me along to a group of men smoking dope and paying them money to strap me into a harness.

I am not a Health and Safety fanatic but correct me if I am wrong, paragliding is an 'extreme sport' so should some sort of risk assessment not have been carried out?  I was a bit concerned no-one weighed me to see if the boat I would be attached to could actually carry me.

I was taken out to a rickety, wooden platform in the middle of the sea used for fishing where two sleeping men were rudely awakened, jumped up and attached my harness to the 'line'.  I am really not the most co-ordinated of people and the three minute instructions given on take-off and landing positions was simply not sufficient. 

On take-off, I felt the crunch of my toe and my stomach did several somersaults as I was lifted higher and higher over the Caribbean Sea.  I was just about to puke when everything suddenly became calm and I thought 'wow'.  It was amazing.  The views were amazing.  The feeling of absolute stillness was amazing.  The warmth of the sun as I floated above was amazing.  The broken toe was throbbing but I didn't care. 

6 slices of gammon

I connect my love of travelling and storytelling with my upbringing. 

By far the greatest influence in my life has been my grandmother and her two sisters.  They were born in the early 1900s and were far from traditional housewives.  Raised in the tenements of Glasgow which have either now been demolished or refurbished into very desirable accommodation, they were very proud of their working class identity.  Although, at the time, women were very much associated with domesticity, the three sisters challenged quite a few preconceptions and instilled in me a strong work ethic, a commitment to education and a sense of humour.

In the late 60's, they each bought a static caravan and sited it at The Red Lion Caravan Site at Arbroath.  This caravan site was directly opposite the West Sands beach which hosted a variety of fun filled attractions such as the miniature railway, miniature buses, a fire engine, trampolines and crazy golf.  Arbroath was quite a popular holiday destination in the 60's and 70's despite the weather!  In the early 80's, I took my own three eldest children to their great-grandmother's caravan and they played on the same beach and swam in the same outdoor swimming pool. 

There is a notion that Scots are a friendly bunch but the competition that existed on that caravan site would have put the recent BBC2 Caravanner of the Year to shame.  Throughout the years, the caravans got bigger as did the funky floral patterns and colour schemes and having a key role in the site owners club was the true measure of success.   My great-aunt became the club secretary much to the annoyance of my grandmother who accused her of being too full of her own importance.  This was around the same time that my grandmother refused to have Spam in the house as it was 'cheap' meat and tried to introduce my grandfather to culinary delights such as a starter of peaches, gammon and salad cream (I kid you not).  We (my cousins and I) also had the most painfully embarrassing experience of being made to eat a home-made curry outside in an attempt to embrace diversity.  My grandfather refused to eat the rice because that was a 'pudding' and the neighbours found the whole thing highly entertaining. 

Annie's recipe for starter

Tin half peaches
6 slices gammon not Spam
Salad cream

Drain peaches
Place in top of paper towel to dry out
Cube the gammon, add salad cream

Serve with a piece of lettuce and tomato
Place peach on a plate and pore mixture over the peach

Ta da!

The Winter Gardens

My first trip abroad was in 1976 to South Africa.   Holidays prior to that included Great Yarmouth, Scarborough, Margate, Blackpool and Arbroath. 


The annual holiday was taken during the 'Glasgow Fair Fortnight' when businesses and factories would close for two weeks in July.  You would then see coach after coach of holidaymakers leaving Glasgow on their way to Saltcoats or further afield to England. 

There was a frenzy of excitement in our house leading up to 'Fair Friday' .  Suitcases lay open for several weeks beforehand with summer outfits being folded and packed on a daily basis until we had no clothes left to wear.  My grandfather came home from work at lunchtime, had a bath (this was significant as baths were normally taken on a Sunday) and then changed into a 1960's Hawaiian shirt (apparently this is now a popular vintage collector item) and a pair of lightweight trousers declaring himself ready!  A couple of flasks were made up; one containing tomato soup and one chicken soup and we were off.

The overnight journey seemed to take forever with several toilet stops made on the way (buses did not have on board facilities).  There was also a distinct lack of motorway.  Scottish people like to sing and I can remember falling asleep to what felt like 'Sounds of the Sixties'.

We stayed at the same B&B in Cliftonville for years and the daily pattern never seemed to change.  I don't recall my grandparents owning a camera but we had lots of holiday snaps.  These were mainly taken by commercial photographers who took lots of photographs of holidaymakers as they walked along the prom. Often taken with pet monkeys and parrots (don't ask). 


I spent most of my time at the Lido swimming pool or on the beach and at night after dinner (always announced by a gong - in fact, at the same time in each B&B - it was like a seaside symphony orchestra/percussion section), we went to a live entertainment show. Singing Edelweiss at a talent show was my introduction to interactive entertainment. Who knew I would end up singing 🎶 at a karaoke bar in Key West with a drag queen.





I recently visited Margate with high expectations that all the familiar paths walked in my childhood would still be there. The Winter Gardens looked grey and old but it felt comfortable like going to visit an elderly relative that you are particularly fond of. I could see my grandparents with their best clothes ready for a 'show'. I remember having a little autograph book to collect the signatures of the famous variety acts.

I was only there for a few hours. I sat in a cute cafe in the developing old town, had a coffee then browsed around the trendy shops. There was not a stalk of rock or 'kiss me quick ' hats in sight. Margate and I had grown up. There seems to be much to do to polish and prune this seaside town and I look forward to going back again soon to support this and keep in touch with the old dear.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Gareth and Gertie go caravanning

BBC2 Carvanner of the Year

Episode 1/2 was funny
Episode 2/2 was slightly concerning

Steam nettle and bacon soup was served up by one couple (Angela had said to Keith that she wanted him to be more spontaneous)
Stuffed animals dressed up for the 'party' (as well as the owner)

It had all the makings of another kind of party.....the kind with a bowl for swapping car keys

David and mum who lost last week came back anyway (poor David and Gwyneth) 'it's bringing back memories' he said.....it was only last week ......'we are disappointed' said Gwyneth 'but we are not bitter' - I had a sneaky feeling they were very bitter and would sabotage the party if they could

Innuendos like 'he knows how to handle his long outfit' permeated throughout and I half expected Barbara Windsor to pop in (actually I wish she had)

When Anne said 'you have cocked this right up now', I hope she was talking to The Caravan Club as I thought 'exactly'

I think they should do a 'Worse Caravanner of the Year

Spoiler Alert:  Gareth and Gertie won 

I'm going to smoke weed with G'ma

Advice from Lonely Planet (www.lonelyplanet.com/May2016)
'Remember: café means pub throughout the Netherlands; a 'coffeeshop' is where one procures marijuana.  If you do decide to visit one of Amsterdam's coffeeshops, keep in mind the following: ask at the bar for the menu of goods on offer, usually packed in small bags; don't light up anywhere beside a coffeeshop without checking that it's okay to do so; alcohol and tobacco products are not permitted in coffeeshops.'

So, what is a café called that sells coffee and tea?



I need to get this right as I have promised to take my 15yr old granddaughter to Amsterdam in May and she has informed her friends and family that she is going to 'smoke weed with G'ma'.  Obviously intended as a joke but I find her interest in the 'bruin café' a little disconcerting and knowing my luck, that is exactly where we will end up!

I am also mindful that the last time I visited Amsterdam (she was just a baby), I mistakenly bought my son a t.shirt that had a picture of a cannabis leaf on the front.
I was working with local schools and Police at the time so not really appropriate 😓

The essentials: flamingos, gnomes and a washing machine drum

There are a few groups on Facebook for Eriba owners e.g. Eriba Puck, Eriba Touring and Eriba Folk.  There is also an Eribafolk forum.  I have joined as many groups as possible hoping to pick up advice.  Some of the posts can be quite technical but I ignore those and concentrate on the important things like paint spray colour.


I recently posted on the Eriba Puck Facebook group that I was about to own an Eriba Puck and asked what essentials I should buy.    

This is a summary of the important stuff and some much needed advice gratefully received. 

Kettle, toaster, pans , plates
There's storage under the seats but wouldn't put stuff under there that you need every day because you would be taking the seats off ever 5 minutes to get something
Full gas cylinders, electric hook up cable
Don't forget a euro adapted if your going into Europe
Fresh water carriers, waste water collectors
I always buy food when I get to where I am going
Beer. ..
Wine. Nothing else
Fairy lights and bunting
Flamingos
A Cobb - light it up, stick a whole chicken in it, a few potatoes and veg in the moat then a couple of hours later it's all ready 😄  You can literally cook anything - steam, smoke or roast - I've made cakes, curries, roast lunches
Good hitch lock and tyres not older then 5 years
Rear window box and wee pot
Memory foam topper for a decent nights sleep!
Collapsible bowls, collapsible tea pot, collapsible everything to save on space
Torch. Vital!! And crocs! Something you can slip on easily to get to shower room and wear after shower, as well as a gown. You learn the hard way! (I hate having to put on clothes when still damp from a shower)!
Make a master list so you remember it all for each trip. It's so annoying if an essential is left behind
Wine, wine glasses, t light candles, more wine oh and some wine plus a wee pot for the middle of the night as one leads to the other
The inside of a washing machine - doubles up as a BBQ and fire
A wee pot, definitely a wee pot, a big one too if you have to go several times in the night

Oh and yes - flamingos and gnomes essential. Especially gnomes as they are becoming extinct!

Man with a van

 

A man with van has been and fitted a detachable tow bar to my Fiat 500X.  I may not know what I am doing but I look the part. 

I didn't quite realise it was three hours and three men worth of work plus my lovely new car was practically dismantled.  It gave the neighbours something to talk about though as it all happened on my street.  There was so much commotion and bakewell tarts, you could be excused for thinking it was a street party.

I did ask about the fridge but my 4 year old grandson possibly understood more than I did when the man tried to explain to me how it was all connected.  All I know is that I will need to go to an empty car park somewhere no one knows me and practice putting the damn thing on and off!

Anoraks and white gloves

I have just caught up with 'Caravanner of the Year' and a series called 'Camping'.  The two could not be more different.  One is 'adult humour' and one is a competition.  On both are organisers with lists.

I like a list.  I even love a list.  I have little notebooks 'thinky thoughts', 'little lists' etc. which I keep in my bag to hand.  I could even be described as slightly obsessed with new things and I do like a tidy house but, this was lists and obsessions on a whole different level.

I loved it!

I found the whole thing highly amusing especially the manoeuvre challenge.  I didn't know whether to panic or just decide there and then that I will never reverse whilst towing the caravan and I certainly will not drive up a grassy embankment. 

It seems that the programme has prompted controversy amongst Caravan Club members with cries of mockery and stereotypes but the classic T2 VW splitscreen camper with an Eriba Puck was hardly stereotypical.

The rolled up underwear and colour coded labels was just an added thrill.

Think British Bake Off without cakes.





    

Beached whale

I am not quite clear if I am a solo traveller by choice or design. 

My teenage granddaughter likes to come on trips with me but my youngest daughter makes comments like ' that will not be happening any time soon mum'.  This is based on more than a few holidays that have not quite gone to plan.  I asked her today how would she sum up our holidays together and she replied 'ummm'.

A great example is Marrakech.

I should have known it was not written in the stars when she gave me the wrong dates for her annual leave and I had to rebook the flights and accommodation and then we nearly missed our flight after waiting in the wrong departure lounge.  That actually was not my fault. 

The riad was beautiful but forget that, the markets and the sunshine because all she remembers is the spa.

I thought that we should experience a traditional, authentic hammam massage.  It was described as a 'magic treatment' and included an entire body exfoliation and deep cleansing.  My daughter was initially obsessed with not being naked during this experience but later said that was the least of her worries.   It started with us having to strip, put on paper thongs, dressing gown and slippers.  I, apparently, put the thongs on the wrong way.  We were then taken to a room which looked a little like a mortuary or a butcher shop  i.e. it was a wet room with two marble like slabs, and instructed to each take off our robes and lie on one of the slabs.  At this point, I have to say I am a giggler.  Any situation that makes me nervous makes me giggle and this was definitely one of those situations. 

A woman came in and started to rub me all over with black soap.  When I say rubbed me all over, I mean this woman rubbed parts of my body that have never before been rubbed.  I also never realised before just how many positions the human body can be manipulated into.  In addition, the more soap that she rubbed onto my skin, the more slippery the surface and I became.  As I had nothing to grip onto I started to slide everywhere. After trying to grip onto the slap with my fingernails, I realised that I couldn't see because soap was in my eyes and tried to find some water to rinse my eyes out by groping along the wall.  The woman saw me and immediately fired water at me using a giant shower head.  She then stood me up, lathered me and then rubbed me all over with oil.  Once again...slippy.  My daughter said she made the mistake of opening her eyes at this point .....her head was positioned at my feet.  It was not a pleasant sight and that is not the mother and daughter experience I was aiming for.

At this point I resembled some kind of beached whale.  My daughter on the other hand was sitting in the lotus position, graceful and sylphlike.  The woman was gently massaging her with oils and washing her hair.

The next stage was for us to be left relaxing, allow the oils to soothe our weary muscles and then be massaged.  It was also at this stage that I realised that I had booked the 4-hand massage and that meant 2 people.  I can count, I just didn't add up.

We were shown into a tent like area where we were served mint tea and biscuits.  My daughter at this stage refused to look at me even though I offered her my biscuit.  When she finally spoke to me it was to order me to explain to anyone who would listen that we only wanted a 2-hand massage and in different rooms.  Fortunately, my broken French did manage to convey this message clearly.

My daughter skyped her siblings and father that night who all commiserated with her and shook their heads at me.

It was also on the Marrakech trip that I informed my daughter that in Marrakech, a popular way to get around is by foot and by a petit taxi.  My understanding was that this was similar to the tuk-tuks used in Thailand.  So, one evening I hailed a petit taxi to take us back to the riad.  It was quite difficult to get into and I had to be helped up.  We then didn't actually have a seat to sit on and it did smell a bit but it did the job and took us back through the narrow streets safely.  On arrival at the riad, the owner and the driver found the whole thing hysterically funny as I had just paid some meat van delivery man to give us a ride
   

   

In the mood

I don't want to exaggerate but this is beginning to feel like the Great Interior Design Challenge. 

Bearing in mind the caravan measures a paltry 170cm wide by 370cm length (including the front hitch) and nothing is being changed to interior layout, you would think that the task of choosing fabric and colour would be easy.  By the way, I do not know what a 'front hitch' is.

I started a mood board which is a little 'Orla Kiela meets Scandi however, unsure if this is now the


'look' I want.

I have received upholstery fabric samples from Modelli fabrics which I love especially Nappa 2258 (Indigo Grey) and Nappa 2257 (Royal Blue) and I am definitely going to use blue and yellow in the colour scheme. 

I need to decide on my 'look' 



I really do not want 'twee' and although I want to respect the age of caravan, I am not into a psychedelic 60's look.  I did some research into bohemian interior design and found the article '20 amazing Bohemian Chic Interiors' at www.architectureartdesigns.com great for ideas.  The description of bohemian as a word used to describe wanderers and vagabonds is very apt but I think what is appealing to me is the strong different colours used.

I would love to go to a colour workshop but worried it is all people who know what they are doing e.g. design students, artists and professionals. 


The winner of the Great Interior Design Challenge (Sarah Mitchenall) has nothing to fear and the Black Parrot Studio Pinterest and Intstagram posts are great for inspiration.

At least the fridge will work

I am getting a tow bar fitted onto my lovely new Fiat 500X.  I thought it would be straightforward i.e. phone up, say I need a tow bar and arrange date and time.  No.  I was asked all sorts of complicated questions about electrics and the only question I could answer reliably was that I would have a fridge.  I have no idea what the fridge has to do with the tow bar nor do I know the difference between a single 7pin or 13pin socket.  I think it had something to do with the brake lights and indicators which obviously, I want to work.  The man is coming on Monday to fit a detachable tow bar and I am pretty sure he will have to show me a few times how to detach and attach.  I had a quick look on You Tube and it is not easy.

I have also booked myself onto a ‘Practical Caravanning Course’ for next weekend and extremely nervous about it.  It is advertised as both enjoyable and informative, lasts for ten hours and promises to have me full of confidence by day 2.  I need to check my car insurance is valid for these kind of things.

Nora pumps weights

I am not going to be lifting any barbells and racks but I have been reliably informed that my current car (Ford Fiesta Style) will not tow the weight of a pram never mind a caravan.

My painful research included joining an Eriba owners forum where I pretended to know what I was doing, asked a question about tow weights and didn’t understand any of the answers.  I then joined the Eriba Puck group on Facebook where the answers made much more sense e.g. ‘my car is tiny….someone will probably give you a much better answer but essentially that’s it’.  Essentially, that was all I needed. 

I get it that the caravan shouldn’t be too heavy but I really do not have a clue what 1kg weighs never mind 1,200 so to then add brakes and kerbs into the conversation is way over my head.  I looked up ‘how much does a kettle weigh’ for comparison and a Delonghi Electric Kettle apparently weighs 5.5 pounds which, according to a conversion chart, is 2.50kg so effectively, I can have about 200 kettles in the caravan.   That should be fine.

So, I am off to my local Fiat garage to buy a Fiat 500X (it is the fatter version of the Fiat 500)

 

 

It is Abu Dhabi all over again

Greta is an Eriba Puck 1960 something model (I am a ’59) and needs to be renovated both inside and out (so do I).  I am not doing any of the work myself but have left her in the very capable hands of a local vintage caravan restoration company.  That has allowed me the time to write lots of lists, trawl through Pinterest and Instagram and come up with a few ideas for the final spec.

 

My first thoughts were to keep her as original as possible and stay away from Cath Kidston fabric and with great excitement I started a mood-board influenced by Scandinavian design but, after purchasing a couple of cushions in the Graham & Green sale, I am now thinking bohemian with some French vintage curtain fabric.   I have been inspired by the colours used by Sophie Robinson in her own home and the vintage fabric supplied by Donna Flower Vintage. 

This (spending money and choosing pretty colours), is the easy bit but I am beginning to sense a very familiar feeling of panic.

I joined the Caravan Club and I was getting very excited about my future travels until I received my membership card and a book called ‘Essential Guide to Touring’.  The first thing I read was ‘a properly matched outfit should be capable of starting on a slope of 1.6 (16%) from a standstill on a normal road surface’!  What?  The other advice that glared out at me was (in capital letters) ‘BEFORE YOU VENTURE BENEATH A CARAVAN, IT IS VITALLY IMPORTANT IT IS ADEQUATELY SUPPORTED’.  I repeat…what?  Why would I go underneath the caravan and what do they mean a properly matched vehicle? 

Flipping Nora goes paragliding

 

I would not describe myself as adventurous however during the past seven years, I have managed to stay alone in a hotel in the middle of Abu Dhabi completely unaware of where I was, keep chickens, get half-drowned by an elephant, take up painting, sing with a drag queen in a karaoke in Key West, break a toe paragliding and buy a caravan.  I also considered open water swimming but I got stuck at home, alone, in the wet suit for over an hour so gave up on that idea plus I am scared of fish. 

I am not sporty.  I would like to be able to run as I think it looks cool but it is really not cool when I do it.  I have tried the 'walk to one lamppost and run to another' training plan but I really don’t get that so give up.  I enjoy swimming although had a terrible experience recently when I went to an over 50 session at the local pool.  I have never seen so many old people in the one place and it was not a pleasant sight.  Even in the ‘fast’ lane, they were standing still.  I was like some kind of Olympic triathlon speeding along.  I could not get the image out of my head for days.   So not sporty and I certainly have no coordination.  I remember when I was little my grandmother trying to teach me to roller skate, it didn’t end well.  I try.  I try to get in and out of things gracefully e.g. rowing boats but the more I think about it the less graceful I appear.  The paragliding broken toe was inevitable. 

I would like to be able to say I had many skills e.g. sewing.  I could think of nothing more satisfying than making my own curtains.  I did try to learn this skill and bought a lovely sewing machine but I seem to have a complete inability to be able to follow a pattern and I can’t cut straight.  I have enjoyed baking in the past although according to my children they only remember me baking for a week.  I am not a chef and again, I have tried.  I bought all Nigella Lawson’s cook books and one Christmas we had her Italian special and Chocolate Pear pudding which did seem to be a success but not since repeated.  In the past, I have enjoyed painting classes (although I find it exasperatingly difficult to understand light, shade and distance), ballroom dancing classes,  horse riding lessons, chicken handling workshops, Doula training and surfing. 

I am not into clubs but I did go on a couple of women only walking holidays and the aforementioned surfing weekend which were fun although I really should hire gear instead of buying as I end up having to sell it anyway (like the sewing machine).  I have a lovely cycle bike.  It’s not a bike for cycling though as in going fast.  It is a Dutch bike and lends itself to a leisurely stroll along the sea front.  I always wear a dress and sunglasses and take money for a coffee or ice cream.

Having concluded therefore that I am pretty useless in a practical way, I have, for some inexplicable reason, bought a caravan.  I fully intend going to France one day in it but first have to get her and me road worthy.