Repairs, Rain and a Rebellious Cat.

Our first outing of the year and, if I’m honest, we are not remotely prepared.

Back in September we had a new axle fitted to our Bailey Pursuit. It had been showing signs of dropping for a few years, and the time finally came when we couldn’t ignore it any longer. While it was in for surgery, we decided to tackle the other “we’ll sort that later” jobs too — a leaky kitchen tap and a water inlet that had seen better days. We got everything done in one go which, I can tell you, left a rather large crater in The Boss’s wallet.

Of course, all of this meant we had to completely empty the caravan beforehand. And oh my… what a treasure trove of absolute rubbish you find when you start pulling things out from under seats, beds and lockers. Things we didn’t know we owned. Things we definitely didn’t need. And things we were certain we’d thrown away three years ago.

We had a brief break in the rain, so we spent a couple of days cleaning inside and out. A small community of spiders had moved in for the winter. Thankfully, they were the only squatters. Once they were politely evicted, it was time to put everything back.

That’s when the real chaos began.

With very little storage space at home while the van was away, we’d scattered our caravan life across the house like some sort of domestic treasure hunt. Gas bottles were in the shed with the aqua roll and waste master. The TV and several “bags for life” full of kitchen essentials had spent the winter in the spare bedroom. The kettle, obviously the most important item, had also been living indoors. The outdoor chairs are still in the loft, but the weather is vile so they can stay there until it improves.

After much rummaging, guessing and a fair bit of “It’ll be fine, we probably won’t need it,” we decided we were ready. We picked up the phone and booked a trip to Winchester, Morn Hill. It’s nearly 12 months since we were last there.

We brought the cat last time, and we’re doing the same again. Staying close to home feels wise while we make sure all the repairs are behaving themselves. We hardly used the van last year — just a week in Winchester and three weeks touring Europe — but this year we’re determined to use it more. Step one: get Oscar the cat fully on board with caravan life.

Arrival day began calmly. Suspiciously calmly.

We’ve had a dog guard fitted so Oscar can travel in the back of the car with access to his bed and litter tray. The plan was simple, keep him in his carrier until we were hitched up and ready to leave the storage site.

Just as we put the car into reverse… he peed in the carrier.

I dealt with it calmly. Or at least outwardly calmly. There is nothing quite like dealing with cat pee in the confined space of a car with zero cleaning supplies. Still, we soldiered on. Hitched up, lights checked — let’s go.

We freed him from the carrier. We hadn’t even left the farm yet when he decided it was time for a number two. On his bed.

Fortunately, he insists on having a plastic bag on top of his bed. Never has a strange feline choice been more useful. Crisis contained of a fashion.

All soiled items were swiftly disposed of in a bin at the storage site and we were finally on our way. I swear pets can be harder work than children. I sat in the back with him just in case. The moment we turned out of the gate, he lay down and slept the entire journey as if none of the previous events had happened.

Pitching up at Winchester was blissfully straightforward. Only about three pitches to choose from, which meant we didn’t have to drive around endlessly while The Boss analysed each one like he was choosing a forever home. He’s exactly the same in an empty car park, it can take him ten minutes to choose a space.

Oscar was installed in the caravan while we set up. He conducted a thorough inspection of every window, checked the views, and then claimed my seat before settling down for yet another nap. A hard day for him, clearly.

Within an hour it felt like we’d never been away. We slipped back into caravanning mode with surprising ease. The repairs all seem to have worked perfectly, which is a huge relief and helps justify the hole in the wallet.

One of our goals for this trip is to make sure Oscar is happy being left in the caravan on his own. So, armed with a brolly we headed out in search of coffee and cake.

Long Barn Garden Centre in Alresford is one of those places you visit “just for a look” and end up staying for hours. We treated ourselves to a cream tea for two and settled in for some excellent people-watching in the bustling café before wandering through the shop.

If you’re hunting for a thoughtful gift, this place is a gem — shelves full of beautiful finds, from plants to homewares. I’m always drawn to the little luxuries, and their collection of posh soaps and hand creams is especially tempting. A lovely spot for a slow mooch and a few delightful purchases.

Driving back through Alresford, we spot a rare parking space and dive into it like seasoned pros. It’s raining now, so it’s hoods up as we meander along the high street. On a drier day it’s a lovely little town to potter around, but as we live quite close there’s nothing new for us to see today — so we nip into Tesco and buy the essentials… a bottle of milk. Life is so rock and roll.

Back at the caravan, Oscar doesn’t appear to have missed us in the slightest. He’s curled up fast asleep on my seat, living his best life and clearly not paying site fees. Kettle on and we whip up hot chocolates loaded with cream and marshmallows to fend off the cold and damp of the outside world. If in doubt, add more marshmallows.

We’re sleeping so well on this trip, waking late but feeling wonderfully rested. It’s mainly motorhomes on site at the moment, all the early-morning caravanning aqua rollers must not have started this year’s season yet. Long may the peaceful lie-ins continue.

Another morning dawns with blue skies. Once again, though, it doesn’t last long before the grey rain clouds roll in and remind us we’re still very much in England.

Lunch is homemade leek and potato soup with bread rolls, proper comfort food. Then, before the heavens open, we head off for a nosey around the Winchester caravan dealers.

The first thing we notice is the price. It’s been a good few years since we last looked at new caravans and motorhomes, and the numbers now seem to require a small lottery win. Their doors are unlocked, so we pop into a select few and compare ours with these newer models. The Boss breathes a quiet sigh of relief as I pick fault with every single one. Apparently, our current van is now “perfectly adequate” again.

Just as the rain starts, we make a dash inside. All we actually need is a new outside door retainer, ours has only been broken for a few years, so clearly no rush. With all these little repairs, though, our van is going to be as good as new soon… and still considerably cheaper than the ones on the forecourt.

After a night of heavy rain, we woke to brighter skies and some impressively ambitious puddles. After braving a rather cold shower block, character-building, apparently, we feasted on the great British delicacy of beans on toast, washed down with hot tea strong enough to revive the dead.

Giving the cat a bit more time on his own, we jumped in the car in search of an old church in Avington. St Mary’s, a Georgian church built in the 1700s. It’s very unassuming inside, with box pews made from mahogany salvaged from a ship captured from the Spanish Armada, proof that recycling has always been fashionable. The memorial tablets on the walls made for interesting reading, one of them dedicated to the daughter-in-law of Bury’s own Sir Robert Peel. You can’t move for history in these places, even the silence feels important.

Back in the car, we found a beautiful country pub on the banks of a very swollen River Itchen. We could smell the fire as we pushed open the heavy old door. The warmth welcomed us as we made our way through a very busy room of late diners. Finding a table, we took our drinks and a packet of cheese and onion crisps and began to thaw out, recovering from yet another hole in the wallet and reflecting on how few crisps you get in a packet these days. The air to crisp ratio is frankly outrageous.

Back to the caravan, and it’s just starting to rain again. Oscar hasn’t even noticed we’ve been gone for a few hours. He lifts his head to see what the disturbance is, rolls over, and goes straight back to sleep. Guard cat duties clearly remain optional.

Our final night was dry, and as the sun began to settle and the noisy rooks took themselves off to bed, we were treated to one of nature’s finest displays, a beautiful sunset. Even the birds seemed to agree it was time to clock off for the night.

Despite the rain, this week has been a huge success, at least as far as the repairs and the cat are concerned. The humans, slightly damp but well fed, are counting it as a win too.

Here’s hoping this is the first of many trips this year, ideally with fewer bodily fluids and slightly more organisation. But where’s the fun in that?