Caravan Life #5

August 26, 2015

We discovered two rotten things today. Look! As you come into the caravan there is a hard plastic fitted 'tray' for a brown corduroy mat, but we had noticed some water seepage on the carpet emanating from that area. Lo and behold, a horrid, damp patch of rot, we know not from where! It could be the edge of the shower tray leaking, as we do shower a lot. A LOT! Or it could be a leaky water pipe somewhere within the caravan shell. We've been 'airing' it today and Kevin will investigate after dinner. Dinner is always late, as we tend to work until 8.30pm. What Kevin may have forgotten is that it's now dark by 9.30pm, so it may be a job by torchlight. I'll keep you updated!

And look at this! I've never seen such a rotten potato!

Polly continues to enjoy caravan life, but, be warned, there is a bit of a sad tale about Polly coming up...

A typical caravan scene. Last night's dinner in progress: magret of duck and green beans. Just one magret of duck between us, as I thought it looked like two in the shrink-wrap packet. It was enough, but the cooking instructions rendered it virtually raw, but with very crispy and tasty skin... which I don't eat.

Ah, a bottle of local red. Sadly, within twenty minutes of this photo, it was on the carpet. As Kevin got up to investigate an unusual noise outside, the table lifted, the leg fell out, and it all toppled. There was also a game of Scrabble involved, which I was winning. The stain is not yet removed, despite having been doused in stain remover all day. Stain remover is obviously meant for little splashes of red wine, not whole bottles. And not on caravan carpets that are 0.06mm thick plywood.

Now this is the sad bit about Polly... you don't have to read on, if you suffer cat sympathy. Polly is a lovely little cat, and we are happy to have her around, but... she is a huge nuisance from 5am onwards!

At home in England, she was never allowed upstairs, and certainly never became acquainted with our bed, but here, oh dear, she is in our faces, literally. She is clearly loving sharing our bed and she even has her litter tray in the little caravan bathroom at night. We are suddenly 'cat people'. She sleeps quite well for most of the night, at our feet, out of harm's way.

From 5am, she begins to fidget, to walk on our heads, to scratch at the door, to scratch the carpet/furniture, meow, scratch herself rapidly to make me suffer flea-fear. So, Kevin lets her out, but he must also feed her a pouch of meaties to keep her happy. She then begins a 'make your mind up' session of being out, oh no, in, out, in. We don't like leaving the caravan door open as we don't like being bitten by bitey things, which still seem to be attracted to our British flesh. So we open doors when she knocks. Every few minutes, going in or going out.

We made the decision for her this morning and let her stay out to explore her world. She did 'knock' a few times, but she eventually got the message. We were left to sleep until 8am! What a treat! I sat up in bed and opened the blind to welcome the new day, and oh!