Broadlands

Wow!! What a long way. I am sure there are parts of France that are closer than this. It was a six hour drive to get to this venue, but it was glorious sunny weather all the way (after the sun came up).

http://www.broadlands.net/

At about 9.30am on the Friday morning, after driving around in a few circles (this seems to be obligatory at new venues - for me anyway), I saw a yellow sign saying "craft fair exhibitors this way". It pointed to the left so I duly followed it. As I turned I noticed the local Sports Club on my right and then the road began to narrow. The feelings of Deja Vu were creeping over me. At least the ground was flat, not like Gatcombe Park a few weeks ago. My fears were realised a few moments later when the single track road ended in a barred gate. On the other side of the gate, slightly to the right, was a Caravan Club camp site. I must have turned to early, it must have been the next left turning I thought. I reversed back to a point where the road was slightly wider to attempt a U turn. Two thirds into the turn it was obvious that I was not going to get round so I decided to go into reverse gear and back out of the manoeuvre. My trailer has a mind of its own and has a tendency to decide by its self which is the best direction to go. This was a one of those moments. I hadn't turned the wheel or altered anything so logic said to me the vehicle will go out the way it came in. Nope! The trailer immediately decided to go the opposite way and jack-knife me in up against the fence. Not to worry because the good people in the caravan site had jumped into their huge 4x4 and were heading over to the fence. Help was on the way. They must have seen my Caravan Club sticker in the window and felt the primeval urge to help a fellow camper in distress.

"Oi, your going to have to move that! We need to get out!" the occupant shouted.

Not quite what I had hoped for. While they looked on I unhooked the trailer and heaved it through 90 degrees. This left me just enough room to reverse the motorhome back a few feet and then move out of the way. The 4x4 driver then got out of his vehicle and produced a key to open the gate. He opened the gate and drove through a few feet and then came back and locked it before driving off. He never spoke a word.

Well at least I had managed to turn the van and trailer around. All I needed to do now was hook them back up together and drive back down the lane and see if I could find the correct road. Ten minutes had passed and I had just got the trailer attached when another camper came over.

"It's alright", I shouted, "I'll be out of your way in no time".

"Don't worry", he replied, "I'm not going anywhere. Just out of interest, are you here for the craft fair?".

"Yes, but I've taken a wrong turning. I'm sure it will be obvious which turning it should have been when I get back on the main road" I answered.

"You are in the right place" he said. He pointed to his right, my left, to a field on the other side of the locked fence. "It's just in there. I've got a key but I am not allowed to let you in!"

I looked at the Motorhome and freshly hooked up trailer that I had just spent half an hour turning around to face the other direction. I couldn't speak.

"Why don't you climb over the fence and ask the organisers when they are going to open up?"

"Good idea" I said, and climbed over the fence. As I walked around the first corner there it was, the marquee city that was to be our home for the next few days. Having found Billy, one of the organisers he told me that he had a few things to do but he would be around to open the gate an half an hour or so. I walked back to the van. That meant that I had half an hour to drive down the lane, do a U turn and then sit at the gate and pretend that nothing had happened. At 10.45 Billy turned up and opened up the gate and let me through. I drove through and found our tent. It was right next to the dirt track road in. I opened up the side of the tent and weighed up my options. Reverse the trailer between the tent posts was the most obvious. I worked out that there was about 6 inches clearance on either side. The big question now was did the trailer want to go into the tent or not!! I had already seen what had happened when It didn't want to turn round in the lane. I went over to it and stroked it gently saying,

"Nice trailer, nice trailer. You really do want to go inside don't you? It is going to rain and be horrible outside this weekend. Be a good girl and go inside!"

With this little pep talk over I jumped into the drivers cabin, put the gears into reverse, and drove straight in between the posts at the first attempt. She had obviously taken my advice about the weather. It was a shame I hadn't taken her hints about not turning round in that little narrow lane earlier.

For the record it did rain that weekend, my god did it rain. There was only one thing to do from where I was. I plugged in the PA system, chose the appropriate track on my MP3 and turned up the volume. Moments later Gene Kelly was "singing in the rain".

Woburn Safari Park

You can probably tell but we have been very busy over the last few weeks and I am way behind on these blog entries. From the amount of people who have called me and asked when is the next entry going to be posted, I know they are popular. So if you will accept my apologies I will do some rapid catching up today.
http://www.woburnsafari.co.uk/
I do try to find something out of the ordinary to write about in these blog entries and the major event at our trip to Woburn safari park was extremely moving and caught a number of us by surprise. The week began strangely because I needed to take the mobile furnace down to Woburn very early. Our middle son Tim had a very important doctors appointment on the Friday so I had arranged to take the equipment down early on the Thursday, come straight back home and go to the appointment with him the next day. After the appointment I jumped in the car and drove down to Woburn to begin setting up, Margaret would be following in the motor home later in the evening.
All of the exhibitors had to leave the site by 5.30 on the Friday so that he Police sniffer dogs could sweep the area before a famous after dinner speaker arrived for a function on the estate. I don't know who it was but the rumors were flying round. The nearest I got to finding out who it was when I heard someone angrily say "Its a former Prime Minister who put this country on its knees and in the brink of f****ng bankruptcy!" That still doesn't really tell me who it was, there still seems to be a number of potential candidates that fit that description. As Margaret had the Motorhome I had to wait for her in the local pub. Shame!!
When Margaret did arrive at the pub there was a strange function going on in the opposite side of the pub. There was a psychic evening going on with palm readers, tarot cards, tea leaves and everything else you could imagine. I asked them if they knew who the dignitary was at the function in the safari park but they had no idea. They said that they would need to read the palm of the actual person to give me any information. I told them that if I could see the persons palm I could probably work the rest of it out myself.
The Sunday of the show was November 11th, remembrance Sunday. The organiser, Marge, came up to me early that morning and asked me what I was going to do at 11am. I had completely forgotten, to my shame, that it was remembrance day and I didnt really understand what she was asking me. I thought that maybe she wanted a demonstration to start at that time because of some important visitor, maybe a former Prime Minister. Then the penny dropped. I had the loudest PA system so Marge was hoping I could help with the two minutes silence. I know that you dont have to have a loud PA system to be silent but it helps to inform people when it should start. She had also had a word with Mal from the Strings Puppet Show and at a few minutes to 11am they turned up at out marquee with a very large crowd and two drums. I tuned my radio to Radio4 and the announcer spoke for a few seconds before the chimes from Big Ben began. At this point Mal and his friend began a steady beat on the drum, a heart beat. As the chimes continued this heart beat echoed around the estate. The chimes stopped, three more beats on the drum and then silence. The silence was stunning and painful at the same time. As the two minutes drew to a close I played Eva Cassidy's Fields of Barley, and the empty echoing sounds of the opening line "You will remember me.........." drew the last bit of emotion from the assembled crowd. People were in tears. I have never been moved by a remembrance event before, but I will never forget the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month, 2007.