From Chaos to Cosy, A New Forest Escape

A lie-in is always a good idea on the day you go away, if you can. What followed was a flurry of manic energy, doors opening and closing, bags being flung about, and a last-minute decision to hoist the tandem onto the car roof. We hadn’t planned to take it, but on this surprisingly mild morning, it suddenly felt essential. Naturally, this meant locating all the necessary “bits and bobs.” Steve, of course, cycles so often he knows exactly where everything is. Me? Not a clue.

After a deep and heroic dive into the wardrobe, I eventually resurfaced clutching shoes, helmet, and cycling shorts like a triumphant, if slightly dishevelled explorerer.

Bikes loaded. Food loaded. Cat… loaded. New Forest, here we come.

The real challenge of this trip, however, wasn’t the packing, it was Oscar. The aim of this trip, successfully transport him on a longer journey than ever before. The reality, true to form, he peed in his carrier before we’d even reached the storage site. Fortunately, I’d learned from past experiences. Newspaper lining? Check. Anti-bacterial wipes? Check. Emergency bags? Oh yes. Crisis managed, cat cleaned, caravan hooked up, let’s hit the road.

The journey itself took just over an hour and a half and was, mercifully, uneventful. Oscar, now equipped with fresh newspaper, settled in and snoozed like he hadn’t just caused mild chaos.

As we approached the New Forest, the landscape began to feel wonderfully familiar. We worked here back in 2018, our first year as Assistant Site Managers, so returning feels a bit like stepping into a favourite memory. I say favourite quite loosely, whilst I loved living in this area, this site was the hardest site we worked in our 5 years working for the Club.

Pulling into the Centenary Site, it was as though nothing had changed. Then we reached reception… A camera scanned our number plate, our details popped up, and just like that, we were in. No queues, no chatter, no bustling arrivals day energy, very clever, but I’m not sure my past self (who loved the buzz of a full office) would entirely approve.

A quick text to confirm our pitch and we were officially checked in without speaking to a single human. Times have changed.

We did, however, make up for that with a lovely catch-up with our old Site Managers, still there after eight years, and even bumped into the Managers we handed over to at Broadway. Lots of laughter, reminiscing, and the kind of chats that do wonders for the soul.

Eventually, my stomach reminded me it existed, so it was back to the van for a generously sized shepherd’s pie. Priorities.

With tea scoffed and the sky still blue (albeit with a rather cheeky chill in the wind), we left Oscar snoozing in a sunbeam on the caravan window sill and set off on the tandem in search of life’s essentials, beer and chocolate.

Our destination was Bransgore, a lovely little village complete with a handful of shops, three pubs, a church, and the obligatory free-roaming New Forest ponies on the approach, just before the cattle grid. We stopped at The Crown’s beer garden for what I optimistically called a “quick” drink. At just under £9 for a pint and a lime and soda, you’d better believe we savoured every single sip.

A short ride down the road led to a Co-op, where Steve stayed loyally with the tandem while I was dispatched to find chocolate. I returned triumphant, two bars of Dairy Milk Daim and a carrot cake (because balance is important). With a less than promising weather forecast for tomorrow, I’m fully anticipating a day of tea, cake, and crocheting.

The ride back was… brisk. The wind had sharpened, my fingers were freezing, and my fleece suddenly felt quite inadequate. Still, we were treated to early hints of what might be a rather lovely sunset, which almost made up for it. Almost.

Back at the van before darkness fell, it was blissfully warm inside. Oscar lifted his sleepy head just long enough to check we hadn’t brought back anything more interesting than chocolate, then settled again.

And so the evening concluded in my favourite way, cosy, content, and firmly planted in my happy place, with tea and chocolate in hand.