Easy like Sunday mornings

Waking up naturally and stretching your arms and legs. Savouring the warmth of the duvet and realising as you slowly blink away the sleep that if you wanted to you could actually stay in bed all day. Sunday mornings are the best. Nothing to  wake up for, nothing to get up for.

Unless you’re us. We choose to work weekends so Sunday morning generally rears it’s ugly head as the alarm clock breaks the silence at around 5am. It’s a struggle dragging yourself out of bed as the rest of the world slumbers. Silence reigns longer on Sunday . Our chance for a lie in during the week generally is disturbed earlier than our natural waking time. People going to work, car doors bang. Children chattering as they leave home for school. The postman announcing his presence with a blast of the doorbell as a parcel is delivered. Weekdays don’t often provide that peaceful, still and silent moment to wake in that Sundays give. 

Caravan time is different. With no work or places to be and people to see. We generally are disturbed from sleep by birds dancing on the roof. Rain sprinkled with gusto from the heavens. Both such peaceful, relaxing sounds to help you drift back to the land of nod. Every morning can be like Sunday morning when I’m in my caravan.

Slowly the campsite around you starts to stir. Awning zips, the crunch of gravel, birdsong, maybe even the warden with his mower or his leaf blower if you manage to sleep past nine. The world wakes slowly around us no matter what the day. Campsites are an oasis of tranquility hidden in an otherwise busy world.

We start to stir, depending on mood, weather, location determines whether I pull a hoodie on and tramp down to the loo or use ours. All around people are starting their days. Others wander to facilities in dressing gowns, some are up and at ’em and already dressed emptying waste tanks and filling aqua rolls. For us, mornings are lazy. We take our time. No rush, we’ve got the whole day to play with. Back to the ‘van and pop the radio and the kettle on. By this point The Boss is normally up and feasting on fruit and fibre.  Cup of tea made and I sometimes sneak back to bed to laze a little longer. Our blinds are still pulled against the world but our sky light blinds are flung back allowing daylight to stream in.

Lying there, thinking of nothing whilst the rat race runs along beyond the site boundaries. Taking it easy and recharging soaking up the simplicity and freedom that the caravan offers. There are still chores to do but they don’t feel like chores. Filling the aqua roll can turn out to be quite a social event as you chat at the tap. Washing up together, time for a chat. Washing up at the designated washing up areas can also be more of a social event rather than a task.

Time to move, tummies rumbling. Tea and toast or bacon sarnies? Decisions, decisions. The smell of bacon wafts through the window from a neighbouring caravan. That’s decided it then, get the teppanyaki out.

Feet up, breakfast, the radio, a book and a brew. Perfect. In my caravan every morning is easy like Sunday mornings.