The thing I initially liked about this travelling lifestyle was that other people’s shit didn’t really effect me anymore whether it was individuals that I knew or bullshitting politicians holed up in Westminster, I felt cocooned from it all. This way of thinking works great until you let someone into your life and then any stupidity or naivety they may have shown in their past life turns around one day and kicks you in the teeth. I’m the first to admit that I love the option this life gives me to just pack up and move when the desire takes me but I have been hankering over a more normal life. I now wish that someone could put me into a frozen state (think Alien) and then wake me up in about 7 yrs cos right now I’m looking at a life in limbo. Any hopes and dreams I had about a future have been snatched away, ripped into bits and binned in a rather violent manner. Any ‘issues’ that would hopefully be dealt with in time I now have to live with for a long time and none of this is of my doing. I’m a strong believer in that we are all responsible for our own mistakes and they generally shouldn’t affect other people. I’ve made mistakes in my life and sorted them out; been made redundant more times than I care to remember and lived on a pittance until some crappy job or other came along; buried both parents before I hit 32 and disowned the shitty remnants of a family whose expectations I never managed to live up to. I paid off all my debts and got my life in order. I’m 43, this should be my time now to see the world, have adventures and some fun and not shelve the lot until I hit 50. As Mick Jones of The Clash wrote back in 1981, Should I Stay or Should I Go? I guess some things only I can decide and act upon. My advice to myself right now would be ‘stay single and don’t let other people f**k with your life or your head’. Shame I’m crap at listening to myself.
Not a lot is really happening here in the way of travel. I’ve had 7 weeks of gadding about like a ferret on a LSD trip, going to festivals and concerts and getting out and about ‘meeting’ people but the poor old Beast has been stationary since we arrived here in the middle of July. Even this last weekend spent in the Peak District wasn’t done camping style. Instead I was in a house with 7 adults (6 of them strangers) and 6 children under 4. Anyone who knows me will know that this is my idea of hell but get yourself in a relationship and this is what you have to do, though I’m not convinced that being stuck in a kitchen with the women while the blokes watch sport is ever going to be something I agree to. I’ve been spending a lot of time under a proper roof and between real walls with the luxury of running water that you don’t have to top up and loo’s that you don’t have to empty and I must admit that the longing for a normal life has been uppermost on my mind. I get back to the van and find it cramped and depressing but then give it an hour or so and I remember why I don’t want that life with its bills and debt and the inability to pack it up and move it somewhere far more attractive, so I guess for now I’ll have to enjoy the best of both worlds. Things on the job front are not going as planned. I’m looking for part-time work doing just about anything and voluntary work to fill in the gaps and boost my CV. Ideally I want to do something that doesn’t take me away from the pooches for more than 5 hours a day but which pays enough to cover site fees with a little left over for a ‘Travel Fund’ so at some point I can escape this bloody place I keep trying so hard to get the hell away from (I’m starting to feel like a character in a 1960’s cult sci-fi series – think The Prisoner, where you think the coast is clear to make your escape but you run down streets and alleys only to find yourself spookily back where you started). I’d also like to make a little cash from the stuff that I make which I think if I can get motivated enough could be achievable. I have a pile of UFO’s to tackle (that’s un-finished objects to you and me) and a growing list of people wanting Granny Blankets. In the mean time I’m still trying to find a cheaper place to stay. A local traveller’s site was mentioned but I think I’ve been given duff info, so it could be one of 2 local layby’s for the odd night here and there and then a variety of local sites to top up the batteries every now and again. I could be ridiculous and hope that I win the Euromillions but I have more chance of being abducted by little green men I think.
It’s been 2 weeks since we moved here and I can almost admit to feeling settled, as settled as I’ll ever be while my address contains the god awful counties of Leicestershire or Warwickshire I suppose. I was going to post photos and do a site review but without sounding over dramatic there are people out there who do not need to know my whereabouts so while I have to remain in this area I will keep it all close to my chest.
Travelling seems to be a word I don’t use very often now and it makes me sad. The only madcap driving seems to be done in Effin the Fiesta these days. The 20 hour drive, 720 mile round trip to Leuven in Belgium last weekend was via car but no less crazy than if we’d gone in this thing. Again it was to attend a festival (4 days but we were there 4 hours) to see one band – yet again. It reminded me just how much I do love that country and I fully intend on going back soon. I’ve had an interview at a rather lovely woodland caravan site in Lincolnshire and am waiting to find out whether or not they think a purple haired muppet will make a valued member of staff. Other than that I’m reduced to applying for mundane, normal forms of employment all in an effort to stick around here and believe me it isn’t easy; and busying myself with making stuff – bunting for orphanages, crochet stuff for friends, bizarre soup for anyone who wants it and Limoncello which is for my consumption only thanks very much.
It’s been one of those crazy, crazy, never stop weeks. On Tuesday I went to the Birmingham Symphony Hall to see Chris Cornell
Then on Wednesday we made the journey up to Manchester (via the kennels) to stay in a hotel – oh the luxury of a real bed and furniture that you could move and……..one of these
It’s been 2 years since I last had a bath. Not that I’m a skanky mare who doesn’t wash or anything but having no other choice than showers is a bit lousy when you live this lifestyle. Anyway we weren’t just up north so I could have a bath, we were there to see these guys
on the Wednesday……
and then again on the Thursday. A lot of people would have killed to see them just the once so I count myself lucky that I was mad enough to think ‘what the hell’ and get tickets for both nights. On the Friday we headed back to the Chav filled, shitty, landlocked Midlands for my last night at High Cross (huge sigh of relief) before packing up The Beast and the car and heading 8 miles further into Leicestershire. It’s predominantly a Fishing site with lakes and a small field of hardstanding for vans. It’s apparently owned and run by Gypsies but to be honest I couldn’t care less as it’s clean and the people seem friendly. The only downside is that the dogs don’t have as much freedom but I’m seriously thinking of moving on every 2 – 3 months anyway so this shouldn’t be a problem. Maybe the more I move the closer I’ll get towards somewhere I’d prefer to be.
Several ‘firsts’ have been accomplished this last week. The Beast attended its very 1st festival
and I got to see Black Sabbath
We spent 3 days at the Download Festival knee-deep in mud
and pitched right by the main stage
I saw several of my idols perform including Slash, Metallica and Soundgarden
and was also witness to some very strange sights – all in the name of Rock ‘n Roll
Who bought Grandma along!!?
My mission for the weekend was to get my much-loved Chicken Run bag photographed with as many characters as possible
It rained, it was freezing cold and the sun shone which now appears to be the norm as far as the British summer is concerned. We were lucky enough not to get caught up in traffic on the way out so all in all it was a fantastic weekend and roll on Download 2013. The only downside was returning to a site where I loath living and can’t wait to leave (7 days and counting). Looks like our collective rents and electric bills have paid for yet another ‘toy’ – a very old VW Beetle. Shame the money doesn’t get spent on tidying up the site and cleaning the loo’s and showers which are worse than those we experienced at Donnington. I have very itchy feet and the plan is now to up sticks and change my scenery every few months. I also fancy a trip up to Geordie land sometime inbetween my hectic June and July of gigs and holiday in Cornwall in September. MotoGP at Silverstone tomorrow. Rain forecast (surprise) so wellies at the. ready. It’s all go, go, Go as Murray Walker would say (yes I know, wrong motorsport)
Well I have good news, good news and really good news. These arrived in the post….
Yes The Beast does indeed have it’s very own festival ticket. I also received my 1st lot of Pearl Jam tickets (only 2 more lots to arrive). The really good news is that I’ve found myself a new long-term site with hardstanding and I’ll be moving there on July 7th. I’ve been wanting to move for a while but allowed myself to be held back because this place has a great view and it’s perfect for the dogs. Sadly that just isn’t enough anymore. I’ve had a month of agro and abuse as I’ve had to be towed off the field several times thanks to the lousy weather and all I get from the owner is that this ‘thing’ is ‘effing useless’. Charmed I’m sure. It all came to a head this week as he went off in his usual bullying arsehole fashion demanding that I take down my flag (stars and stripes) and fly a union jack for jubilee week (over my dead body). If people want to be antagonistic in their approach to issues than I’m going to do my best stubborn, pig-headed female impression and stand my damn ground. He finally sent his wife to ‘ask’ so yes I took it down. We aren’t all Royalist arse kissers and he only wants to impress the local Councillors and Dignitaries who are here on Monday to light the beacon. Shame he isn’t this enthusiastic about maintaining the site and cleaning the toilets and showers which are now bordering on being a minging health hazard, instead of being locked in his barns tinkering with the ridiculous amount of ‘boys toys’ our collective rents seem to allow him to splash out on. Our new home is only 8 miles away and just a small site with 2 fishing lakes. I’ll be paying a bit more than here but cheap rent isn’t the be all and end all is it. The change will do me good and no more worrying every time the heavens open and I need to move 3.8 tons of motorhome.
Edit: I’m now moving sites on June 23rd having come to the conclusion that I need to remove my Anarchistic Arse from this place ASAP 🙂
See that glowing thing in the sky? That’s the sun that is. I’m tempted to say about bloody time as we have had the shittest weather since April but now it appears that summer has arrived. Of course there is a downside to this ………… people start crowding onto the site pitching like disrespectful knobheads and spoiling our quiet little idyll. This weekend is no exception. Ralliers – boo hiss, Gippo’s (saying nothing) and salt of the earth types who think I need company as I’m on my own. Don’t get me wrong it’s nice to have a natter and all that but my neighbours descended on me for 2 hours this morning and then invited me to sit with them this evening assuming that I am lonely (no). I now know every sordid little detail about their health problems (past and present), gymslip daughter-in-law (should be shot), Tunisia (somewhere I never planned on going) and drinking habits (far too much Wife Beater). Next weekend will be 10 times worse as we are being invaded by Union Jack waving tossers ‘celebrating’ the Queen’s jubilee. I’ve had to move away from the beacon as it will be lit to celebrate the occasion and I’m not part of the kindling – I was hoping that an effigy of the old bag (monarch) would also be included in the flames but alas no. For that alone I don’t feel I can join in – hog roast or not. I was told to try not to look like I live here – exactly how does one do that when one does live here more or less? It’s not just me, there are 17 ‘occupied’ vans here in full view of anyone passing so I do feel that the problem is not mine but the owners. He is pooping himself at the prospect of local Councillors being here to light the beacon when he has us ‘undesirables’ here when we shouldn’t be. Again – his problem not mine and nice to know we’re such a pain in the arse when our £’s are keeping him in ‘toys’ ie: various VW Campers and Harley Davidson’s. I could have done without the lengthy lecture but there you go, there are far more pressing matters to hand – the appearance of an alcoholic, toothless harpy and my inner conflict at wanting to up sticks and bugger off down south (yes folks that little idea is still causing me sleepless nights). In the meantime I’m hiding behind my windbreaks plastered in Factor 50 suncream and trying to make the most of this weather.