Published: April 29th 2012April 29th 2012
Well, after a long abscence, campervan stories continues. I awoke very early the following morning after a tortured night of indecision. In the small hours of the morning the great debate raged in my head - should I leave my cosy bed and tent for the toilet, or could I manage? First light came as a great relief and after checking nobody was about I made a dash, in my pyjamas, looking like the monster from the tomb (don't ask how I know I looked like this, I just do) for the small camp toilet building. As I rounded the corner to salvation - I really was desperate - I encountered a whole pile of blokes with fishing gear waiting for the fishing lake to open. So, I exchanged the usual pleasantries, were they fishing today, wasn't Yorkshire a lovely county etc then made for the furthest toilet and hoped they couldn't hear anything - so embarassing. Finally I was comfortably back in my tent with book and cup of hot water from the flask I had sensibly organised the night before and waited for Robert to wake up so I could have a proper cup of tea.
Some time later, after all the usual performance of breakfast, washing, dressing, packing away and all the other boring stuff camping seems to involve (surely life is too short for all this stuff) we were on our way again to - YES- another Morrisons for provisions and another toilet stop. It is a truth universaly acknowledged that all Morrisons are the same, so I confidently headed for the customer toilets and marched into - the gents. I marched quickly out again - obviously all Morisons supermakets are not the same, I'd found a rogue layout. I wouldn't make this mistake again, and sensibly took more notice of signs and directions, and quickly finished the shopping.
We were on our way again. We stopped at a nice little Yorkshire town and stretched our legs then headed for the motorway. After a while of trundling noisily along, Robert said " People are friendly today, they keep waving to us as they overtake." I thought this was a bit strange so as passenger I had a good look. Another car passed gesticulating madly! Somehow, I turned in my seat and saw smoke through the back window. "I think we're on fire, dear" I said nonchalontly, not wanting to cause my husband to panic as he was driving. Action man, after a short pause while the horrible truth sank in pulled onto the hard shoulder, rummaged for the fire extinguisher and exited the vehichle, while I grabbed my bag, loo roll and car documents from the glove compartment, and also lept out. Flames were clearly visable from the exhaust at the back (techie detail - T25 campers, air cooled, have their engines in the back) and Robert was just about to leap into action when another car screeched up and the driver (a younger model than Robert) flew out, siezed the extinguisher and put out the flames. We were so greatful as Robert hadn't quite worked out where to squirt it. Highway police came up and kindly escorted us to the next exit and services where we had a cup of coffee while deciding what to do. I was developing a nasty migraine by this time and knew I would soon be past caring what we did.