* Mega fail again. We’ve been home for almost two weeks and I’ve just spotted that this blog hadn’t been published. I really do need to get my mojo back.
The skies are the brightest blue, the sea twinkles and the sun warms my face, well if I was in Lanzarote that’s what it would be like. Instead we’re in the caravan and it’s hoofed it down now for nearly two whole days. We’ve been tucked up nice and warm with Radio 2 tinkling out the Christmas tunes and copious amounts of tea and chocolate. The caravan really does have a negative impact on our healthy eating plan, or is it just boredom setting in?
Early to bed, early to rise, not a phrase I’m going to use on this trip to The Centenary Site. Early to bed, yes but sleeping so well, I’m struggling to drag myself out of bed and be ready before Popmaster. Sites are normally awake and buzzing quite early on, there’s always the one who insists on dragging their wastemaster down the road at just after 6am, the rumble of it’s wheels on tarmac and the dull thud as it hits the speed bump. Here, just good old peace and quiet.
Before the heavens decided to drop a deluge of wet stuff on us for hours on end we did manage a lovely couple of trips out.
Walking boots laced up off we tramp out of the site. Turning left we head in search of New Forest Ponies.
The road is very wet and the verges are muddy, the odd passing car means in the main we do most of the walk up towards Holmsley Campsite on the road. Ponies, Ponies, everywhere. Standing, tearing at the grass the majority are oblivious to the odd walkers weaving in and out of them. One cheeky lad came right up to us, ‘Got anything good to eat?’ Realising we weren’t delivering takeaway service, he just stood and sulked. Whilst people might realise these beasts shouldn’t be fed, it appears no-one told the ponies. The fresh air is good and the watery sunshine is good for the soul.
As the sun starts to set we head back feeling refreshed and ready for tea from the visiting fish and chip van, which just like when we worked here three years ago were excellent. Just got to remember to get rid of the rubbish before we go to bed. Nothing worse than waking up to stinky wrappings.
More rain and yet more rain. We’ve watched a good couple of Christmas films but are now a bit fed up of being confined in such a small space. Coats and brollies piled into the car we head towards Lymington, not interested in the shops and the high street, we dance in and out of masked shoppers, trying not to get too close, it is almost impossible. Down towards the harbour and it’s definitely quieter. A family of swans look for bread throwing children. We head right, The Boss has seen that there’s a nature reserve down here somewhere, off we trot in search of nature and calm away from Christmas.
A few walkers meander round, a couple sit silently drinking in the views, oh and the takeaway coffee that warms their hands. The clouds have gone inland and a bit of blue sky tries to brighten our day.
The place is busy, busy with birds. Once again, we ventured out after lunch to avoid the rain and we are treated to spectacular views across the rerserve as the sun falls from the sky.
Walking back to the car as the spits and spots of rain start to fall, we decide we’re a bit peckish. What better than a pack of Roly’s fudge to stave off the hunger pains till we get back to the ‘van.
With all the restrictions in place and trying our best to avoid busy places, with the biblical amounts of rain we’ve experienced during the week, we haven’t actually ventured out much. Probably for the best and the safest. Our only trip out in the caravan this year, I do feel a little deprived but it is what it is.