Burrs Country Park

We’ve been home for a week, just long enough to do the washing and lull the cat into a false sense of security, thinking we are back and it’s time to hit the road again. Going home in two senses of the phrase this time, back to Burrs, family time and time to get the tandem serviced.

Cat snoozing, we snook out without telling him that we won’t be back for a few days. Don’t worry he’s not home alone, he still has our daughter, he just loves the freedom he has when we are home. She won’t let him out at 3.30am when he cries to go out. So whilst we are looking forward to a few nights of uninterrupted sleep, he, by now will no doubt be sulking.

Tandem secure on the roof of the car, caravan tucked on the back of the car, it’s not raining so off we go quite happy that the bike isn’t going to get wet through and mucky on this journey. Bit of a first really, we haven’t been home much in the last month or so but every time we have, it’s rained. I blooming hate rain, July feels like winter has come early and there’s nothing more that I hate than winter. Whilst wildfires burn abroad we should be building an ark.

We make really good time on our journey up and land mid afternoon just as the first few spots of North West rain start to land. We choose a pitch in an area that we’d eyed up whilst we worked here, tucked away in a corner but with a good view of the world and the train. Nothing planned for today, although in all honesty, apart from a quick trip to the supermarket, there’s not much else I want to do in this mizzley, drizzley wet stuff. It’s that stuff that wets you through.

We slept well and woke just before our alarm went off. We’ve to be in Gargrave, Yorkshire for 10am, the tandem is having its first service and I’m hopefully having a couple of adjustments made to my handlebars. I want them lifting and angling more towards me, I’m not keen on the lunged forward, racing position. The shower block is empty, everyone is still snoozing, I treat my hair and give it a wash, my hair loves good old northern water. Wish I hadn’t bothered as once we drop the bike off in Gargrave, the rain starts, giving me a head full of frizz leaving me resembling Crystal Tipps for those of you of a certain age the image will now stick. For the youngsters amongst you google Crystal Tipps and Alistair.

To kill some time whilst the bike is seen to, we head into Skipton, not really somewhere I’m very familiar with. We escape the drizzle into a covered courtyard that has a tea room upstairs. Sitting with my brew, I notice a group of five elderly ladies, sipping tea, chatting and crocheting. This must be the local knit and natter group. I can’t help but nosey at what they are making and then find myself in full blown conversation with them. Such a small world, one of them has a niece who lives round the corner from us. The skies dry up for a short while as we head back to the car along the canal bank. So lovely down here, we can only imagine how lovely it would be in the sunshine. I imagine life on the water is even more relaxing than caravan life.

Unlike when we worked here we are having the best nights sleep. Falling asleep and staying asleep rather than sleeping with one ear open listening for any noise. The rain held off on one afternoon and I was able to spend the afternoon sitting outside with mum putting the world to rights whilst slurping on a cup of builders.

Watching the train go by, going into the toilet block and not having to clean it, watching people drive round the site as they slip their car into third gear. It was lovely. My mind still wears the uniform and I’m not sure how long it will take me to take it off. Steve says he threw his uniform in the bin a long time ago. Whereas, I, on my walk to the bins still find myself shouting ‘morning!’ to everyone sat outside cooking bacon. The smell of bacon, torture for site staff doing the bin run. Wafts of it as you turn every corner just make you want a bacon butty and brown sauce, of course, no ketchup on bacon in this caravan.

And, just like that, our trip is done. We’ve visited family, had the bike serviced and fraternised with the staff. All in all a blooming good trip. The only thing missing from this short trip was a trip to Bury Market and a ice cream from The Jersey Girls on the way back. Little did we know that this trip would be the last time the Volvo would pull the caravan. Sad times saying goodbye to a car that has been on so many adventures with us.