How we started as motorhomers

Published by playbyte in the blog playbyte's blog. Views: 75

The Begining

It all started on the way to Birmingham as all good stories do. The Motorhome centre was spotted en route and stored in the memory for when something like that could be afforded. After discussion amongst the two eager potential buyers a financial decision was made and on return to the aforementioned metropolis a visit ensured. “Didn’t like any of those” and “what a disappointment” were phrases used.

It needs to be mentioned that Birmingham was the home of a very dear friend of our intrepid travellers and on reaching her house the exclamation “wheres my handbag?” rang out. (The reader is now invited to guess where the handbag was).

A hasty phone call to the showroom revealed that the handbag was found in a Motorhome and was now in the safe. There are honest people in the world which was a big relief to one and all.
The problem was that the return to pick up the bag would have to be the next day.

The next day came and as they were motoring along the travellers came to another financial decision which widened their horizons a little, and with this thought in mind picked up the handbag and “had another look”

Well there she was resplendent in her bright shiny appearance with a beautifully kept interior. You have heard of love at first sight? Well here it was, two years old and immaculate. “just the thing we need”. What an expensive lost property office! A deposit was made and back home to sort the finance.

On return to pick up Harriet the excited potential owners had a few hiccups which I will now recount. The Vauxhall vectra which was being traded in for this wonderful machine must have got wind about its impending fate. It had been a brilliant car and a great companion. It had transported dogs, people, computers, flat packed furniture, you name it. Its reliability had been outstanding and it was with a tinge of sadness that the journey commenced.

A tiny crack had appeared on the windscreen a few days earlier which was getting slightly bigger. The window wipers had also started to refuse to go properly. It was thought that this was mostly due to the snow that had been quite heavy the week before. (There was another problem which you will have to read on to find out).

Our travellers had also been thinking about one of these new gadgets that tell you exactly where to go in the car. You type in your home and destination and hey presto your route is planned for you. Yes you have it! A GPS had been purchased to help with the navigation on holidays and weekends away.

Normally the journey would take 1 ½ hours maximum but three hours later the vectra was heading home as the battery was running out on the GPS. It was so bad that on finding a garage a map was bought (and some sandwiches for lunch). When disposing of the sandwich wrappers into a nearby waste receptacle, the owner of the previously mentioned handbag looked at the car and…… the front indicator light was hanging out; the vectra looked like Disneys Herbie does after chasing villans! It was hastily put back and after making the rest of the journey it was checked again before entering the Motorhome centre.

Harriet goes to her new home


One of the requests from the salesman was could some cream cakes be bought because he liked them. This seemed a reasonable request as most salesmen seem to want blood!

“Why did he have the cheek to ask” I hear you retort. Well, one or two problems had been experienced with verification of the traveller’s home address. This was due to a discrepancy in the electoral roll which had a knock on effect on the verification of finance. If this sounds a bit complicated just take it that the man who really wanted to sell Harriet was extremely helpful in the efforts to get details sorted.
It was felt that his request for one cake was insufficient and six were bought. One hopes that of the 19 vehicles he had sold that week that the new owners didn’t all buy cream cakes!! Imagine explaining that to your local Pharmacist when you need “something for indigestion”.

A very knowledgeable gentleman explained the buttons, switches and features that Harriet possessed and also explained that the spare wheel was underneath. He got down on his hands and knees to prove his point and ended up rushing into the workshop to retrieve “one he made earlier” (whoops!)

The excitement mounted and photographs were taken of the new proud owners and Harriet. Eventually she was driven out of the centre back to North Lincolnshire, without the assistance from the GPS, I hasten to add. This was just as well because on a visit to a garage to fill her up the amount of litres going into the tank went up at rate not experienced before and left the owners thinking about bank overdrafts.

Having driven a “four toner” in the army in the past the knack of driving Harriet came without too many problems to the male member of the excited pair. Not being outdone the female member also had a try and her experience with towing a caravan made her exclaim “I prefer driving Harriet to towing”.

The next day reversing “army style” was practiced on a local airfield. To the uninformed in military matters this involves the driver putting total trust in the person directing them from outside and at the front of the vehicle, while the person doing the directing flaps his arms about making the driver turn the steering wheel this way and that.

The next day was spent showing Harriet off to various people. The first one was the local vicar who was very impressed and it took him on a nostalgia trip to family holidays, the account of which was enjoyed by all. Rosie the dog was quite impressed and promptly went to sleep on the floor. The only problem for her was that when Harriet was going round a corner she slid gracefully across the plastic protection sheet that was still in place on the immaculate carpet and vainly extending her claws for purchase; her owners have now put down some rugs on the pretence of her comfort but in reality taking care of muddy paws on the new carpet!

Next thrilling instalment .... Our trip to Wales
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