Oxford (Day 2)

 Yesterday evening Angela took a walk around the campsite. Is it wise to cook two large steaks on an outside grill with your greyhound tethered to the fence close by? Porta Potti's doubling up as coffee tables. Make your own mind up on that one! 

This morning the single lady next to us packed up her caravan and left. We were amused by the sign on the flap of her chemical toilet cupboard. 'No Stools Left in This Van Overnight'. We have noticed there are quite a few single people on the sight. When we arrived yesterday we chatted to a lady whose husband had died from a sudden heart attack. She was from Bournemouth of all places. It being the first day of the bank holiday we thought we might like to stay at the Oxford campsite another night to avoid joining traffic on the M40. Sorry, fully booked all bank holiday. Sorry Marge, let's see if we can find you a little space in a parking area on the edge of the city. John was not so easily defeated and asked the site manager if a cancellation was likely. No need, we have one space. Result. But we'd have to move Marge to another pitch. What was not to like. No neighbours opposite or to one side and in the sun all day. 

When we lived in Buckinghamshire we used to visit Oxford quite regularly, so keen to make the most of our time here we saddled up and cycled into the city taking the cycle path through the university gardens and down to the river Cherwell, where we sat a while to lunch and watch the wildlife. Across the water Angela spotted what she thought was a large fungi on a fallen tree.

Angela, you should have gone to Specsavers. Oh, you did. It was a large terrapin basking in the heat of the midday sun. A family thought it was a tortoise let loose into the wild and were preparing to give it a home. Not a good idea.

On the far bank a pair of swans, soulmates for life tended their nest and a heron stood to attention scanning the water. We had missed all this pleasure. In the distance we could hear Great Tom sounding out from the bell tower in St. Aldgate's whilst overhead the Lancaster bomber from the Battle of Britain Memorial Flight enroute to London to take part in the fly past to celebrate the Queen's platinum jubilee flew low over the trees.

Fine weather on a bank holiday in Oxford brings out the boaters. All convinced they're good at punting. We've seen it before, and today was no different.

As we looked down to the water from Magdalen bridge chaos was in full swing. Have another glass of prosecco, you won't feel the cold too much when you fall in the water. Hilarious!  

Right Marge, tomorrow Stratford upon Avon. Meanwhile let's have a little tipple to celebrate the Queens platinum jubilee. Might even fire up the grill. No punting though!

Oxford

On leaving Askett our next stop was Thame to power wash Marge and fill her up with diesel. Two pounds a litre! Bargain. Then on to the Oxford campsite where last time we stayed Marge decided to immobilise just as we arrived. You've guessed it. She did the same today. Don't you like it here Marge? The staff at the Oxford Camping and Caravanning Club Site are a little officious, so when we asked if we could move Marge to another pitch, we were probably considered awkward customers.

Marge settled we took a walk down to the river Thames where John knew chicken of the woods was probably growing on a damaged willow tree. Success, the bright yellow fungi shone like a beacon. It is now inside Marge. There's a surprise! The towpath alongside the river was fairly quiet, our walk disturbed by only a handful of cyclists and joggers.

At Iffley lock the geese were fiercely protective of their goslings, hissing at Angela as she walked by. We miss the river Thames, its tranquillity and beauty.

Today it looked perfect, still and peaceful reflecting the trees along its banks. The only disturbance some rowers and an electric tourist boat cutting the water as they passed by. 

Tonight, the campsite will be full. We don't usually go away in the school holidays. In the ladies showers children were squeezed in to cubicles with their mothers squealing and chattering. Suddenly a little voice said, 'I need a wee'. Silence, while we all waited. 

Hopefully tomorrow Marge will fire up without a problem and we will move further on into the Cotswolds.

Under a bridge over the Thames we saw this fantastically painted graffiti

Askett

Are you well Marge? On seconds thoughts don't answer that we'll presume you are. We've been home six days now, time for another trip. Originally we had planned to head to Scotland, but we are waiting to help Angela's son with his house move which could now take place within a couple of weeks so we need to be closer to home.

First stop the dentist in High Wycombe for Angela to have yet another broken tooth repaired. The weather took a turn for the worse upon our arrival at High Wycombe, resulting in some rain water seeping into Marge. She's not good with heavy downpours.

Our first overnight stop of this trip was Askett where we parked Marge up on John's sister's drive. Lovely here isn't it, Marge? What a beautiful garden. No midges to worry about here as there would have been in Scotland.

Before leaving home, John had fitted a side screen purchased from Ridgeline Van Equipment in readiness for an invasion of midges or mosquitoes. It means we can still enjoy the view when Marge's side door is open without being bitten by these annoying insects.

Tonight, we are staying on the Oxford campsite. Later this week we will move onto Stratford upon Avon where we will camp at the International Campervan Show at the racecourse. As an added bonus the International Overland Show is also on. It's going to be fun Marge.

Poole

Thank you Glastonbury for providing overnight parking for vans. There is a campaign underway in the U.K. for councils, village halls, community centres, sports clubs etc; to allow campervans and motorhomes to park in their empty car parks overnight. It's not rocket science guys. We pay a small fee, up to ten pounds. We wont leave rubbish or empty waste water and you receive money for your funds. You can even trust us to put money in a donation box, a scheme already running in Scotland. If you know of a facility, please put this idea forward to the person who can make decisions on such things. Thank you. 

One final hit of patchouli and white sage before leaving Glastonbury. Right Marge, home please. Slow and steady now. And guess what, our next stop is the garage for you to have a health check.  A pressure sensor fitted, and talk of a new ignition switch and Marge was considered well enough for another trip. O.K. Marge, just a couple of days away next week then.

Glastonbury

Yet another early start this morning. Last night Angela checked on the local council website about parking a campervan or motorhome in the Watchet car park. It clearly stated yes you could, just pay for each space your van takes up. Why on earth wasn't this information on the board by the ticket machine? So, we were ready at eight to move Marge across two spaces ready to pay if the parking enforcement officer appeared. Which they did not. We got a freebie Marge. Cheapskates! With no reason to stay in Watchet we departed early taking the A39 to Glastonbury. The drive was much gentler than the last few days and both us and Marge were glad of it. On the approach road we could see Glastonbury Tor in the mizzle. The Park4night app informed us that there were three spaces in the parking area behind the abbey that could accommodate vans up to 6 metres so we headed there. Overnight charge ten pounds. There was one space available. Pull everything in tight Marge we're going in. 

Keen to explore we walked along a passageway that led straight on to the high street. We were fascinated immediately by this town. No invasion of chain stores here, just independent outlets selling coloured knitwear and linens, crystals, incense, books and art.

We visited three of the bookshops amazed at just how many different books were available on subjects' covering wizardry, witchcraft, crystals, paganism, religion, psychology and much more. The smell of incense permeated along the street. The smell of patchouli, so intense affected our senses. We loved this town. Let's become hippies and move here! All around us were individuals who looked like they'd come to the Glastonbury music festival and never left. And everyone was so friendly. We really do love you Glasto! Quick move away from all the burning incense it's starting to go to your heads. Alright Marge. Chill.

Allowing the light rain showers to pass we changed into our walking boots to walk up Glastonbury Tor, topped by the roofless St. Michael's tower.

The mile long walk up was steep and challenging. Ha-ha, payback time for all those inclines you've made me slog up. Alright Marge.

The last few steps were so steep we wished we hadn't forgotten our walking poles. Angela wished she'd not bought her vertigo with her and was worried about the descent.

However the climb was worth it and we were rewarded with spectacular views towards the Mendip hills due north and the field systems of the Somerset levels below.

A strong wind forced us to sit inside the tower where we ate our emergency brownies. Luckily we spotted another path down that seemed gentler.

As we descended we could see the stove pipes protruding from a community of vans parked below. There were vans parked all around the town, mostly English but Dutch and German as well. The whole vibe in the area was very laid back. 

Tomorrow we are returning home as we have visitors coming to stay for a few days. It's all go Marge. Take us home safely please with no funny business!