Bear blog

We've just got back from a lovely sunny weekend staring at shiny vans. It was good. Having failed, yet again, to meet up with anyone to convoy with, we trundled down on our own and were going well until we got just outside of Malvern and decided to stop to buy a drink. And then the van wouldn't start again. Bugger. So Pete got on the phone to Roger who told us he could come and sort us out but that he was at least an hour away, especially considering that his brakes had just failed. But then the man from the camper parked up just behind us came over and gave us a go on his battery booster. 'Huzzah!' we cried. But no. It didn't work. So Pete phoned Roger again. I could only hear half the conversation, but it went something along the lines of:

-Roger, it's not the battery. Whaddawe do? Whaddawe do?

-Ah, it'll be your starter motor then. Have you got a toolbox?

-Yes. It's at home.

-Ah. What do you have then?

-One spanner.

-Is it shiny and metal looking?

-Yes, it is.

-Get under the van then, and shove it about a bit between other metal looking things until you hear a fizzy-bang-pop sort of noise. And then you'll know you've fixed it.

 

To his eternal credit, it actually worked. Something to do with sparks and solenoids or something. There was a terrible crackly-bang sort of sound, but Pete emerged unscathed and off we trundled onto site.

 

Vanfest was busy this year, so before we could get into the queue to pay we had to sit in the holding area for about an hour. But it was fine. The sun was out, and people were chillin' n'that. Everyone had opened up their vans and were lazing around the place drinking and playing with barbeques and stuff. So we did a spot of juggling, and before we knew it we were camped up with the Colligan brood. And then a bit later Roger&Connie appeared, having successfully bodged their brakes. We sat around for a bit and had a barbeque and the Baxters turned up and were funny and northern. I may have accidentally, inadvertantly called Joe a cock-rider, but he didn't seem to mind that much. We missed seeing Showaddywaddy through sheer laziness and poor organisation. I may never know what their top-ten hits were now.

 

Saturday was spent buying crap. We had decided beforehand that all we were going to buy was three washers that we've needed forever. But it didn't work out like that. We did a tour of the trade stalls and came back up to the van with one washer, a new interior light, some new door panels for the cab, a shiny new t-shirt for me, and some rags. But the rags we made use of straight away by T-cutting the van to try to get some of the hideous scratches and scuffs out of him. It worked a treat. He's all shiny again now. Very handsome.

 

We spent the rest of the day alternatively lazing around the place and wandering about a bit. I fawned over all the nice dog-dogs, and we saw my doppleganger. She was more stylish, and slightly more emo, and she obviously had a professional haircut and was a bit less doughy around the hips than me, but she had the same mannish charm as I have. The resemblance was uncanny.

 

We all met up again in the evening. The enigmatic Keith turned up (although I never did get to see his fire-engine van) and played about on unicycles. Roger has a very girly pink trials wheel which is too sickly even for me. He's a big fat woman. We gathered for another barbeque and the tat competition. Tat being decidedly slim pickings this year, we failed to find anything that could live up to Miark's exacting standards and thusly were put on the judging panel with Roger and Joe. Wendy won with an exquisite porcelain chaise-lounge photo-frame which scored extra points for a) being bought with a straight face and b) being sold by a man who reportedly said 'yeah, that's lovely, that is'. After the tat, we went and saw The Commitments play, timing our arrival perfectly to hear Mustang Sally. We boogied heartily.

 

But then it was Sunday and after a quick ice cream and a trip round the Show & Shine to see some posh looking vans, we were packed up and back home. The cats were pleased to see us though. And we get to order pizza for tea because we're far too chilled out to think about things like cooking.