Good morning Broadway!
One last shift and then our time here is done. Two amazing, challenging, tough seasons have come to an end.
Awake bright and early, well dark and early as the chemical toilet tank is full and I’m busting for a wee. Pulling on my work fleece I troop across to our compound to the bathroom. We’ve had accommodation here on site for the last two years. In order to clean it ready for the next team we moved into the caravan on a pitch a few days ago, so, in the event of a full toilet cassette, it’s a quick run past the office in the dark.
Bladder emptied, uniform on, lace up the boots for one last time, I sit and browse social media over tea and toast. Reverend Kate Botley reminds me that it’s a Sunday and that one of the founder members of UB40 has died just as daylight starts to creep onto site.
Lots of ‘one last time’ things done today. One last bin emptied. One last toilet cleaned, one last walk round site and so the list goes on. The bin run took ages, lots of people stopping me to say cheerio, promises that they will try to visit us next year on our new site. It all gets a bit emotional but there’s still work to do.
My last cuppa and a biscuit with the team before we throw the doors open for one last time this season and I check my last arrival in. Mr.Goddard if ever you get to read this, without realising it, it was an emotional moment for me, although you probably didn’t realise.
Bits of PPE gathered up into a pile, pens emptied out of my pocket, cups collected from the cupboard, one last glance around the office and reluctantly we say goodbye.
An emotional last morning, this is our lockdown garden, we were incredibly lucky to be able to isolate here. We felt safe. The site will always be close to our hearts as it went through the pandemic with us. People moved out and the wildlife moved in. We lost weight, one of us kept if off, one of us is putting it back on. We gave up the booze, well, one of us did, the other still enjoys the very occasional pint. We got to ride the tandem into villages normally thronging with tourists, we had them all to ourselves.
One last sleep and we start to pack up, ready to head home. Our goodbyes said, one last glance fondly at site. Car loaded and ready to go, press the ‘Start Engine’ button … nothing … just click click click as the dash dims and goes blank, we haven’t even hitched up. Dead as a Dodo, even a set of jump leads and another car won’t work. Green Flag phoned and in a little over an hour a nice man in a Hi-Viz turns up, informs us that he hates caravans, “You wouldn’t believe the one I went to the other day” he says, funnily, we did. The car was connected to a massive defibrillator and five minutes later we were up and running. The Boss had a momentary loss of sense and parted with a £5 tip in gratitude.
It’s been a tough couple of seasons, a tough, challenging but enjoyable couple of seasons if that makes sense. we met some absolutely amazing people and some downright grumpy folk. Crisp packets shoved through windows and surprises left in bushes, if you know, you know! We met some adorable, cuddly four legged guests who loved us no matter what. An endless supply of dog biscuits in our short’s pockets meant we were always flavour of the month and able to get a snuggle to cheer us up just when we needed it most. Thank you to everyone who came to visit us, you helped to keep us sane. Hopefully see you again next season… Somewhere new