We have had three days of anxiety and panic. Stuck in a campsite on the outskirts of Plymouth, with practical problems galore. We have realised how totally disorganised we have been. The computer has been playing tricks on us – not charging the battery- the oil dip stick has become unstuck, the wheel clamp we have borrowed has a padlock and we have no key, the insurance company are still insisting we return to England after 90 days, then come back and continue for another three months rather than taking the full 180 days in one go. We have been walking around with knots in our stomachs, wondering what on earth we are thinking of, running away in a knackered old caravan pulled by a twenty seven year old car. Headless chickens.
Today however, everything comes into place. The girls are so happy, so pleased to be on an adventure, so laughing and happy and funny, they lift our spirits and bring us together despite our differences. In Plymouth Mark wins his battle with Norwich Union and they decide we can stay away for the full 180 days without a return trip – a massive weight off our minds. We traul the charity shops to find cagoules, boots, various stuff we have forgotten, but they are crap. Six in one street selling various tut made in third world countries for the western customers whims. They are sterile and soulless, trying to mimic 'new' shops. Oh for the days when you could buy other people's discards for next to nothing. Now it seems there is someone deciding what is and isn't saleable, acceptable, useable for their target customers. Poncing themselves up for the middle classes looking for a bargain. There was a time when they existed for a dual purpose. Making money for charity and providing stuff for the 'have nots' in the community. Recycling in action. Now they fly their products half way round the world to bring us all the ethnic gift items we crave.....
We will catch the ferry tomorrow. We are so close we cannot miss, and in fact the three days of living in the caravan have been infinitely useful and lovely. Getting up at the crack of dawn, seeing the sun rise in east, turning to see the moon behind, fading slowly as the morning progresses. Cold and misty, birds singing. Nature is a beautiful thing. We should cherish it.
The huge chimney in the distance belches out smoke, thick and grey, 24 hours a day. Plymouth is awash with ugly retail and trading estates, making more useless stuff for the population to buy. Can't wait to get out.
Capitalism, who needs it?
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