Sixty One

Sixty One

On the first of August we woke up at 4.30am. Husband drove off to the farm down the lane where we keep the caravan and brought it back. We loaded into the car with the puppy in the back and off we went. It's still a novelty for me to not have to drive everywhere and I'm happy to say that I hardly drove at all during our two weeks away. We sailed from Holyhead to Dublin and arrived at our friend's house in time for tea.

The next day we hitched up and headed for Slane. Our friends have set up a Yurt Glamping site Hare's leap in the grounds of Slane Castle. A weekend party and camp-out had been arranged for her 40^th. We set up home and finally grappled with the awning for the first time, doubling our space and delighting the children.

Friends old and new continued to arrive for the next two days. By Friday evening though, the party was already in full swing. My sister arrived on Saturday and stayed for two nights. The children and the dog ran wild. We swam in the river Boyne, walked the ancient land and for one weekend I broke my resolve and drank champagne in the hot tub under the stars. The weather was beautiful – cracking blue skies peppered only occasionally with momentary downpours lasting a matter of minutes.

Ireland was it's usual welcoming self. Our caravan is small enough that we arouse no suspicion of tinkers (a larger caravan may have had a colder welcome). We were obviously just idiots abroad. On Monday the last of the guests drifted home and dramatic news reached us from the village. A masked robber had held up the bakers thinking it was the bookies (his mask got in the way), made of with 10euros and was caught by the Guards (police).

We were invited to go home with our friends, he is a twin I've mentioned before and his twin and their sister were with us plus Irish twin's beautiful wife and a lovely selection of children. We weren't the only guests to head home with them and we managed to hold on to the spirit of the weekend for at least one more night.

We finally hit the road on Wednesday and headed into the Wicklow Mountains where we had been invited by new friends to stay on a stunning Estate where they work. Their son and our daughter number two had become great friends at the camp-out. We had a blissful 24hours eating lovely food prepared from the kitchen garden, swimming in the pool, swimming in the river and enjoying great hospitality.

From there we drove South to a village called Dunmore East. We spent two days on the beach and on Saturday 10^th we caught the ferry from Roslaire to Fishguard. The drive from there to Cornwall was brutal with the caravan on the back. The early start to catch the ferry contributed to nearly 12 hours travelling. I drove for one. At about 6pm we arrived at Atlantic View campsite near Padstow where my sister and her family had set up camp and had a delicious curry ready for us.

We spent two days camping with them, surfing, walking, swimming, eating. The children and the dog making new 'best friends' at every stop. Then we stashed the caravan and moved into my Sister's house in Boscastle for three nights. We caught up with friends, visited the harbour, ate pasties, had a wonderful BBQ and swam in the sea some more. The children caught up with their friends and by Thursday when we collected the caravan and turned for home, we felt like we'd been away for a lot longer than two weeks.

We had one last hurrah, an evening in London, before the packing started in earnest. It was a dinner party with very close friends in a fabulous loft in Old Street. A birthday surprise. Everyone was dressed up and the setting was perfect. A step back allowed an amusing comparison to a modern, English version of 'Friends!'