MOTORHOME TRAVELLERS' DIARY FOR OCTOBER 1998

GERMANY, BELGIUM AND ENGLAND

Barry and Margaret Williamson

01 OCTOBER 1998 D CAMPING RIEDSEE, DONAUESCHINGEN

Along the motorway to Freiburg, then on a good road, B31, skirting the southern edge of the Black Forest past the Titisee. The lake was not visible from the road and after one try we skipped the crowded resort and its small car parks. Coffee in a layby watching the mist swirling above the autumn trees on the hillsides and a lone heron in a cornfield. Before reaching the Autobahn for Stuttgart, skirting the east edge of the Forest, we searched out a campsite on the shores of the Riedsee, near Donaueschingen, believing this to be near the source of the Danube, though the river looked too wide as we crossed it by the village of Pfohren. The site was closed and barred until 2 pm, so we ate in the nearby car park before checking in to what is really a semi-residential caravan park, with metered electricity.

Alf took us the 4 miles into Donaueschingen, a large town, where we found what claimed to be the Donauquelle (Danube Spring) in the grounds of Schloß Fürstenberg - hardly the source, as the Danube is formed by 2 smaller rivers here, each of which rise much further west on the slopes of the Black Forest! However, the Quelle did attract tourists who threw coins in, lucky for the local kids who were adept at retrieving them with a large magnet on a piece of string! We also searched out a motorhome dealer, advertised on the border of our town plan, who was conducting his business from a restaurant in the Donaucenter - no useful accessories there! But we found an excellent free car park for motorhomes at the sports centre near the Donauquelle, with water and waste points and a maximum 48 hours stay, to which we shall move tomorrow. We also sampled a McDonald's, on the industrial estate near Aldi, before returning to the campsite.

64 miles. £11.25 + £1 elec meter.

Before leaving the campsite we swapped our empty battered 5 kg German gas bottle, last exchanged in Olbia (Sardinia), for a new full one and bought German phone cards from a dispenser next to the telephones - Teutonic efficiency can be a bonus. The diary for September was completed and full use made of the excellent showers. Barry rang Gold and Frenchies about servicing Rosie, and booked her in at Frenchies Garage for Monday, 12 October, giving us 11 days to return.

After lunch we called at the Aldi store to stock up on German treats - excellent bread, ham, Wurst, Glühwein, chocolate-coated marzipan, gingerbread, etc, swiftly checked out at bargain prices - then settled on the splendid free car park near the sports centre, joining a handful of German Hymers on the bank of the Brigach, which joins the Breg to become the Danube just up the lane. A short cycle ride through the Schloßpark took us into town, where we bought a detailed pack of cycle route maps with rides from Donaueschingen, which is in fact the start of the 800 km (500 mile) Donauradweg to the Austrian border at Passau and beyond.

5 miles. Free night.

By 10 am the rain was dying out so, following the Bregtalweg cycle path, equipped with packed lunch, waterproofs and spare inner tubes (all of which proved necessary), we set out to prove the Emperor Tiberius wrong in proclaiming Donaueschingen the source of the Danube. Every shop in every village was closed, the roads quiet, what public holiday could it be? The route passed through Häufigen, where the Roman baths had been excavated and newly roofed over, and climbed gently uphill sometimes on agricultural tracks and through villages but mostly on a sandy or gravel footpath following the Breg for 24 miles to Furtwangen. The small town is famous for Germany's biggest Uhrmuseum with 4000 assorted cuckoo and other clocks. We preferred to spend a few marks on coffee in the Italian icecream parlour, the only place open, where we learnt the holiday was for German Reunification Day, diligently observed.

Fortified, we rode on for another 5 miles, the last 2 climbing steeply to the true source of the Danube, on a ridge in the forest, only 100 metres from the Rhine/Danube watershed at a height of 1078 m. A sign proclaimed it 2888 km from the Danube's mouth, from Black Forest to Black Sea. Near this Donauquelle was the small Martinskapelle chapel, where the link was made that Tiberius, who had come in search of the Danube's source (geographically above Furtwangen, but historically at Donaueschingen), was Emperor at the time of the Crucifixion. Riding back through the showery, overcast afternoon Margaret had a rear puncture on the path by the Breg, among the dark green moss and autumn fungi. A short cut on the road bypassed the Roman baths and we revisited the Schloßpark's Donauquelle. This spring, made into an ornamental fountain, is at a height of 678 m and 2840 km from the Black Sea. Plaques proclaim the 8 countries and 4 capitals it waters.

We'd climbed 400 m/1310 ft, cycling for 4 hrs 45 mins, and were home by 5 pm.

An anticipated cycle ride on the Donauradweg was abandoned after a night and morning of heavy rain, spent reading and planning instead. After lunch we walked into town and phoned Alan (not home) and mum (just back from a week in Penrith) and arranged for post to be sent soon to Ramsgate. Donaueschingen is now very pleasant and prosperous, but was bombed flat at the end of WW2, shown on photos of the old post office. We walked back past Rosie to the point where the Breg and Brigach meet, signposted Donauzusammenfluß. Back home, still raining, we relaxed with cards, dominoes and cooking (chicken and apple sponge meringue).

A dry walk into town to telephone Ramsgate: Nethercourt Camping (open until 31.10) and Sally Ferries (gave us Ostend number). Sally at Ostend confirmed there was no need to book ahead and that we could overnight on the Trailer Park. All good news. Back at Rosie we put 2 DM in a machine to fill up with fresh water and emptied our waste (free of charge), returned to Aldi for more supplies, then took the Stuttgart motorway, leaving it at Hellenberg/Tübingen for a 15 mile drive to Nagold. There was no parking at the railway station but we found room on Uferplatz, by the park and swimming baths. The charge was 0.5 DM per hour between 8 am and 6 pm and the meter man agreed we could stay overnight free.

We walked around the small town, Margaret rediscovering the school, church and house (Hohestraße 7) which had been the focus of her life for a term in 1966. The medieval houses had been nicely restored above and behind the new shop facades. The Hotel Post with its gilded sign and the old schoolhouse were particularly fine.

A quiet evening by the River Nagold, near the fondly remembered open-air swimming pool (now covered in). Across the road was a hedged hill, signed as the burial mound of a 5thC BC Celtic grave, which must be a recent discovery.

75 miles. Free night.

Woken before 7.30 by the schoolkids going past in the half-light, reminding M of wrapping up to walk to the Gymnasium in the dark and the snow. An early, misty start, driving back to the Stuttgart-bound motorway A81, though the forecast rain didn't catch up with us till mid-afternoon. We turned onto the A8 to Karlsruhe, then A5, A6 and A61 towards Koblenz, crossing the Rhine between Heidelberg and Speyer. We made lunch at a motorway services and got diesel for about 40p/litre. By Worms, tired of roadworks, heavy traffic and even heavier rain, we decided to turn off at Bingen and take route 9 along the Rhine.

A large free car park on the river at Bacharach, by the Köln/Dusseldorf line jetty, was busy with coaches and cars but we found a place in the corner and were later joined by a British couple in a home-converted mobile library, an old Bedford van in smart new mustard yellow livery. As dusk fell, pleasure boats called to disembark dripping passengers, huddled in anoraks and under umbrellas, and the working barges made their stately way past all through the night. Heavily laden boats plied upstream to Basel, returning with lighter cargoes.

In the evening the rain stopped and we walked under the railway, over the road and through the 14thC gateway into Bacharach, where every medieval timbered building was a hotel or restaurant, the bright lights reflected from the wet cobbles.

167 miles. Free night.

Talked to the owner of the X-registered ex-mobile library, from Hereford and out for a fortnight's tour. He'd converted it beautifully inside, with lovely cabinetwork and (of course) plenty of bookshelves! Then continued on road 9 past the Lorelei, pausing in a car park at St Goar for coffee, reluctant to leave the river for the busy motorway network, though it did stay dry today. Through Koblenz to Sinzig, where we joined motorway A61 past Bonn. We filled up with LPG and diesel at the last German services before turning onto the A4 for Aachen and Liège, crossing into the German-speaking corner of Belgium near Aachen, with no customs post on the motorway. We spent the night at the first large Belgian service station, where the toilet attendant had forestalled the 'no Belgian francs' excuse with a price-list in every European currency! But we did get a free box of matches. Northern Europe is grey and overcast and we cheered ourselves up with a curd-cake from the freezer made in sunny Corsica. The TV offered various languages and we found a Dutch channel showing a 10-year old episode of 'Inspector Morse' in English.

148 miles. Free night.

Stopping at the next services, past Liège, for coffee we found it full of police, cameras and action surrounding lorries. Unsure whethere it was real or actors filming, we didn't linger! We drove through the rain on the A3 (or E40 as they say here) across French-speaking, grey, flat, wet Belgium, round the busy Brussels Ring and so on the A10 through the Flemish lands past Gent and Bruges to Ostend. We followed signs for 'Sally Direct' (replacing Sally Ferries/Holyman Sally) and found a couple of portacabins and a large trailer park - nothing like the splendid terminal they once had at Dunkirk. The 2 women staff said tonight's 8.15 pm ferry probably wasn't running and tomorrow's 7.30 am sailing was uncertain, because of the rough seas, but they seemed very unsure of their story. They quoted a fare of £50 one-way (a bargain) but would not yet sell us a ticket. We felt the company, rather than the ships, was in danger of foundering! Now we could get Radio 4 and tuned in to the shipping forecast, which mentioned gales off Dover, and 'The Archers', which seemed little changed!

Lorries aside, the only vehicles waiting for the ferry were a British Kontiki, who made no contact, and a car and caravan carrying Ken and Shirley Widd from Upwell, near March. They were back from 5 weeks in France and Spain, and had a return ticket with Sally for tomorrow morning. They'd been told it might not sail, in which case they'd be given a ticket for a ferry from Calais (why isn't it too rough for those boats?) Margaret went back to the ticket office to push for more information before they closed at 9 pm and learnt that this morning's boat, which left late, had still not docked in Ramsgate 'because of the winds', and tonight's 8.15 ferry was cancelled as it had not left Ramsgate. They were unsure about tomorrow morning, wouldn't know until the middle of the night if it was coming, and we were asked to enquire when the office re-opened after 5 am. A lot of lorry drivers hung about, making jokes that the 'Eurotraveller' had sunk. We spent the night next to Ken and Shirley's caravan, listening to shipping forecasts, which were better for tomorrow.

138 miles. Free night.

Up at 5.30 am to find the mist so dense that it was difficult to locate the ticket cabin! At least the wind had died away and the men on duty said the ferry would sail when the fog cleared - it was standing off Ostend waiting to enter port and they were confident enough to sell us a ticket, now down to £40! We gave Ken and Shirley the good news, moved down to the quayside and made breakfast, burning gas to keep warm for the first time this winter. Still dark, it was cold, damp, misty - welcome to northern Europe! A Polish bus joined the short queue of lorries but the 30 reserved car spaces were left empty. The fog began to lift with the daylight and we eventually sailed 2½ hours late, at 10 am, on a remarkably smooth uneventful voyage. The boat was practically empty, with no heating, minimal catering and the Duty Free shop closed, but a calm crossing was all we asked.

We joined Ken and Shirley in the upper lounge, with only 2 other passengers to be seen, and talked our way across the Channel, pausing for a coffee and cold bacon sandwich in the bar (the only alternative to the £6-a-head buffet in the restaurant). Ken, an early-retired school Physics teacher, was also from Hull and had been at Hull Grammar 2 years ahead of Barry, though their only shared memory was the Headmaster's name. They enthused about Spain and Portugal, we recommended Greece and Corsica, and soon the White Cliffs of Ramsgate appeared. We arrived after 3½ hours (12.30 pm British time), drove straight to the campsite and settled in for lunch. The warden told of a TV report yesterday that the Sally Direct line was in financial difficulties and about to fold, just as a new road and tunnel to the harbour were near completion. We'd been lucky to get across!

Leaving our dhobi in the camp launderette, we cycled into Ramsgate to phone mum, book onto the Caravan Club site near Cambridge (the Peterborough one was full), collect a packet of mail from Alan (via Vivario), get some English money and search the many charity shops for books. Leaving both bikes locked for a couple of minutes outside one store we found M's helmet had been stolen - our first theft since Athens. We felt very foreign, very vulnerable, we had to learn the local customs fast! Pleased that only a helmet had gone (both were overdue for replacement) we went straight into Halford's and bought 2 new ones just before they closed at 5.30 pm. They are hard-shelled with a detachable peak at £24 each and will never be left on the rear carrier again in the UK!

Back to the campsite for a good dinner, trying to eat everything in the freezer before leaving Rosie at Frenchies Garage, and an evening of British television. It's national poetry week and Spike Milligan won the best comic verse award with 'Ying Yang Yong', which doesn't say much about viewers' literary appreciation!

5 miles. £10.50 inc elec.

We cycled back into Ramsgate for some essentials, like matches, toothpaste and citric acid - vital for making squash and descaling the kettle and unobtainable since Greece. Charity shops yielded more bargain books, ranging from Thatcher's autobiography to travel and spy stories. We'd bought a wide range of paper and hardback books plus 2 jigsaws for a total of £9.75, the cost of one new book in WHS, where we bought nothing! B got some warm winter shirts from a closing down sale (2 for £7) and, back at the campsite, we got more books for free at their book-swap, unloading some of our well-read paperbacks.

Then onto the main roads and motorways of the incredibly busy south of England, still getting used to driving on the left with signs in miles. We made lunch on the M2 services and noticed that parking over 2 hours costs £5 (which now seems standard in GB - no free overnights on the services here). The Dartford Tunnel only charged the car rate of £1, then M25, M11 and A11, turning off to Cherry Hinton where a C C site is hidden in an old chalk quarry.

We settled on our allocated pitch and arranged to leave Alf and a few boxes of books in the Warden's garage while Rosie went for her service, to unload some excess weight. Another evening of British TV, after a day of Radio 4, observing a strong contrast between the educated, well-argued, intelligent media people and those we'd seen shopping in Ramsgate: downtrodden, poor and sad - the class system is alive and well here, more than any other country of Europe in our experience. A programme celebrating 40 years of 'Blue Peter' showed a teenage Princess Ann on safari with Valerie Singleton, and interviewed HRH today, looking like a Tory elder, a successor for Thatcher.

118 miles. £8.40 inc elec.

Soon the warden appeared asking if we'd like to move to a larger hardstanding pitch now vacant, as we had our front wheels on grass and it had rained heavily in the night. We soon realised the hidden agenda to secrete us behind a hedge, as Barry had just got out the stepladder, table and tools to work on Alf and the bicycles. Under pressure, the warden acknowledged that our erstwhile neighbours felt outfaced by the size of our rig - not the first or the last. We'd already shown our ignorance of the rules by asking if we could wash Rosie down (no chance!) To avoid further offence we duly moved to pitch 41 and got down to sorting stuff to leave in boxes, using the excellent showers and preparing Rosie for her ordeal. We arranged to return to the site on Wednesday or telephone if there was a delay, though it was made clear that we couldn't book a particular pitch. The ways of the Caravan Club pass our understanding!

Though we waited till 8 am to start the engine, the warden appeared in 2 secs flat and protested that we'd wake everyone up! He then watched as we manoeuvred to dump our waste before leaving, to his relief! Morning rush hour traffic on the Cambridge ring road did nothing to speed our progress, via Ely and Chatteris to March. Mick French and his wife were very friendly and positive, offering to remove the generator and try to sell it, as well as doing a thorough service and MOT, and at 10.20 am we cycled back into March, our thoughts with Rosie.

After coffee and toasted teacakes in the Baker's Oven and buying a local map, Radio Times and chocolate bars we were ready for the road, though didn't welcome the strong head wind we pushed into, riding south and west to Ramsey Forty Foot, for a browse round Wellsbridge Motorhomes, and on into Ramsey village for lunch. It was just warm enough to eat outside, and we got a take-away from the Istanbul, run by a Turk who couldn't believe we'd once cycled there.

Then south and east, with a better wind, through tiny villages bereft of tea-shops: Somersham, Earith, Wicken Fen, Fordham. The quiet country lanes we'd imagined were the beat of the sugarbeet lorries, tractors, trailers of potatoes, commuter cars, and always the cold wind across the damp fens. Into Suffolk, Mildenhall had no obvious guesthouses and we thought we'd have to continue to Newmarket, but the owner of a bungalow B&B (full) rang her friend at 'The Walnuts' and sent us a couple of miles past the American Air Base to West Row, where we arrived at 5.20 pm. A much extended and renovated Elizabethan-Victorian house was home to a strangely distant couple who gave us a suite (bed, bath and sitting rooms). The bath, TV and kettle were welcome and we settled down to making our own supper.

Distance: 93 km Riding time: 4 hrs 45 mins Average: 19.61 kph B&B: £35

As we set out after a full English breakfast the rain started and we donned the full English cycling kit (overtrousers, overshoes, overmitts - why are we over here?!)

The villages had pretty names - Prickwillow had a fenland drainage engine museum and cafe but was not yet open and we rode on to Ely. Coffee and scones, a walk round the centre, a glimpse in its Tourist Info Office of the house where Oliver Cromwell grew up (entrance fee), a look in its massive cathedral (entrance fee), and fish & chips for lunch (expensive at £8.95 for 2). This is not our kind of town. The cobbler refused to resole B's Sidi cycling shoe as it was "too wet", so he bought some Superglue to do it himself! We rode north from the Isle of Ely to Wisbech (once truly a beach on the coast), through Ken and Shirley's village of Upwell, pausing to mend Barry's puncture in the rain. Arriving in Wisbech we bought 2 more innertubes, got a list of B&B places from the Tourist Office and went to look at several on Lynn Road. We were welcomed to the Deben Guest House, 146 Lynn Road, by Tony and Janet Potter, who had an elderly motorhome in the drive and a comfortable room with kettle and TV. Tony, a retired motor mechanic, took the MMM and lent us the October issue to read. We were all delighted to see Mike Jago's editorial previewing our forthcoming series!

Distance: 81 km Riding time: 4 hrs 50 mins Average: 16.75 kph B&B: £30

A long chat and another pot of tea with Tony after breakfast - we were in no hurry to leave in the steady downpour! We shopped for our suppers (bread, sardines and a pork pie), enjoyed coffee and toasted teacakes and rang Frenchies for news of Rosie. There is a problem with the steering, they await spares and hope to be ready by Friday. So we rode north-west on the most minor roads possible, though we had to give up on a track alongside the River Nene when it was blocked by horses and cattle. We paused at a quiet country pub for lunch (which, even with a drink, cost less than Ely's fish & chips) before crossing the Great Ouse and into King's Lynn, for a town map and B&B list from the Tourist Office. Noticing a good cycle shop we bought another innertube which claimed to be puncture-proof (self-sealing), then found the Maranatha, with CTC wheel on its wall, run by an old lady who put us in the new annexe. We had our second bath of the week, and another evening of supper in front of the TV.

Distance: 38 km B&B: £34

A dry morning exploring historic King's Lynn, its medieval port and houses, the site of the castle and the old gaol. A 'shoppers special' coffee and teacake in the Wimpy for 99p each, then a slightly longer route back to Wisbech. We had a roast pork dinner in a cosy cafe and another night at Tony Potter's guest house.

Distance: 57 km Riding time: 4½ hrs Average: 12.66 kph B&B: £30

Tony had left early for a Car Boot Sale (Janet hoped he wouldn't return with more than he'd sold) and she forgot to offer cereal, going straight into the eggs and bacon, but we didn't miss it - we've had our fill of full English breakfasts, and of English weather, and of English traffic ... Back along rainy lanes, through Fridaybridge and Coldham to March, where we had steak pies for lunch in a shoppers cafe and rode hopefully to Frenchies. Tomorrow morning, for certain, they said. So we rang the Cherry Hinton site with the news and rode a mile south of March to Town End. The B&B on Wimblington Road, advertised in March, wasn't open, but we visited the splendid medieval church of St Wendreda, "worth cycling 40 miles into a head wind" as John Betjeman said (how did he know?) The key was held at the nearby pub and we let ourselves in to admire the best example of a double hammer beam wooden roof in Europe, carved into tiers of angels. Returning to March, we got a room at the Causeway, or rather in a house they'd annexed across the road, furnished with a modern '4-poster' draped in cheap white nets. The bicycles had the kitchen.

Distance: 41 km. Riding time: 2 hrs 5 mins. B&B: £32

TOTAL FENLAND RIDE: 310 km or 193 miles in 5 wet and windy days

An enormous breakfast, then into March where the little museum was open (Wed and Sat only) and it was market day. We shopped for bread, biscuits, chocolate, phone cards, Radio Times (such was life in the B&B). Sent off for an excellent Penguin Modern Classics offer in the RT: 2 selections of 10 books for less than £23 including postage. In the town museum (free) an elderly lady volunteer told war-time anecdotes. Clark Gable and James Stewart were on the nearby American air base and apparently Clark Gable's signature in St Wendreda's visitors book was cut out and kept by the vicar's daughter! A fascinating range of exhibits chronicled the life of a small market town in the Fens, from prehistoric to present day.

Back to Frenchies to find all was well. Rosie was waiting, her brakes and steering better than they'd ever been, and she had the all-important MOT Cert. We cycled back into town to get her 12 months road fund licence and filled our panniers at the bargain Frozen Food Centre, then returned to Frenchies to retake possession of our home. Driving back to Cambridge was a pleasure in every sense: to travel these wet windy roads in warmth and comfort, knowing that Rosie was not only fit and well, but legal on the road again, and relieved of the weight of the generator.

Reinstalled in our quiet corner at Cherry Hinton, we retrieved Alf and our boxes from the warden's garage and relaxed in self-contained comfort.

40 miles. £8.40 inc elec.

A wet day, spent sorting books and stuff to leave in mum's attic and planning our next moves, now we're free to travel. M picked blackberries for a pudding and rang mum, to learn that Alan has lots of Sparkes family staying next weekend (start of half-term). The warden warns us that the site is full from next Friday.

In the morning we used the campsite launderette and cycled into Cherry Hinton - busy despite the 'traffic calming' measures, which are not cycle-friendly.

After lunch we rode into and around Cambridge, where graduation ceremonies had just taken place, judging by the proud parents strutting about with their capped-&-gowned offspring. Barry bought more books, including guidebooks for Spain, Portugal and Morocco - Oxfam had a special branch exclusively for books. Also photocopied the September diary at a student 'cybercafe'.

Back home we made 6½ lbs of marmalade with a tin of 'Mamade' which set well and tasted almost as good as hand-picked Greek oranges.

Margaret wrote to mum and we posted it with the September diary, as we cycled out after lunch, across Cambridge towards Girton, to the only American military cemetery in Britain. It was impressive and meticulously kept, with a long wall recording the names of those airmen and seamen lost in the Atlantic. Dick would have liked it. On the way home we bought a few items from Budgen's (including some frozen chicken breasts we would later regret!) Barry tried to phone Eve without success - the number had been changed and was unobtainable.

We returned to the Caravan Club CL site at Sewards End where Mr Bailey remembered us from our stay 2 years ago. We had his splendid field and blackberry hedges to ourselves and Margaret went out to pick while Barry cycled to nearby Ashdon in search of Eve and Jim. He came back sure that they'd moved (different furniture, a swing in the garden, etc) but no-one had been home.

We both rode round later and found the new owner in her kitchen. All she could tell us was that Eve had left in August and gone to Cambridge, but the post office would forward letters. We returned puzzled to our field and Barry wrote them a letter, giving mum's phone number.

18 miles. £3.00

Back on the M11, A14 and A1 (the Great North Road) to Newark, reaching Brownhills in the afternoon. We squeezed onto the free overnight car park, plugged gratefully into a metered hook-up, had a look round the stock and browsed in the accessory shop, just like old times. We found some of the items on our long list: a fluorescent strip light for the kitchen (which Barry later fitted), new mugs, melamine cleaner, bowl, awning light, submersible pump, gas lighter, etc, but no water filters or air vent covers. Nor did we replace the Easi-washer as the new model Wonder-washer looked very insubstantial. As rain and darkness fell we were glad of the hook-up, the winter weather has definitely arrived.

98 miles. Free night.

The rain still poured as we reluctantly cycled into Newark in search of a cycle shop to help with their overhaul. Castle Cycles had a friendly owner, whose son would do the work on the bottom brackets and transmission but was on holiday next week (half-term again!) We booked them in for Monday, 2 November and bought tyres, shorts and a bright Goretex helmet cover for B and a pair of Karrimor front panniers to replace those half-stolen in Athens. Then we looked round the market, rang the campsites near Holmfirth and made some arrangements for next week: Turners, our tenants at Heaton Road, Taylormade Screens, Huddersfield Caravan Repair Centre and Steve Andrews, the elusive 'RV Fridge Doctor' in Meltham, who has the air vent covers and water filters we need.

Pleased with this progress, we ate at McDonald's opposite Brownhills. Then we had to talk our way back in past the guard (female), a far cry from the kind gent who later gave us a £1 coin for the meter though we could only offer 60p in exchange.

Winds and rain were severe as we travelled up the A1 to the M1. We stopped to make coffee and buy boxes of biscuits (costing £2 for 3 lbs), Bounty bars at 4 for £1 and packs of bacon from the Pakistani gentleman in the layby near Worksop. Also used Trowell services to buy diesel (the first since Germany, at a shocking price of nearly 70p a litre) and have our lunch.

Holme Valley was very muddy but the ducks were happy. It was far too wet to risk either of the CL fields we'd found in the area. We cooked Budgen's chicken breasts, followed by Seward's End blackberry and apple flapjack, of which more later.

78 miles. £7.45 inc elec.

Barry was extremely sick through the night (we blamed the chicken) and M rang Heaton Road to postpone our morning visit and got him an 'Observer' to read in bed. He bravely recovered by lunchtime and drove Rosie up the rough narrow track linking the site of the former wollen mill with the main Huddersfield Road and on into town. At our house we met 2 of the 3 'official' tenants: Philip Gibbins and Dale James (Maria Ainsworth was out), plus AN Other male who was 'a visiting friend'. Philip was very pleasant, made us mugs of tea and showed us that they were redecorating the bedrooms and had put a new shower curtain up themselves (for which Turners had quoted us £65!) The grass was recently mown and all looked in order, except that the basement, packed with their spare furniture, seemed a bit damp and some of the inside window frames need painting. Frank had put a fence up between the 2 back yards. We collected some bedding, towels and clothes from the attic, books, maps, computer disks and a fan heater from the front bedroom cupboard and some wine from the cellar, giving them 3 bottles as thanks for decorating. They were even learning to play our piano.

Then to Meltham to find Steven Andrews on Copley Avenue, off Red Lane, who advertises in the RV mags as the Fridge Doctor. He proved a wonderful resource: a retired fridge engineer, with 2 RV's and a trailer for shows parked outside his tiny house. He can get most (and stocks many) RV accessories. He also repairs and services gas installations, awnings, etc! We crowded inside and his wife made us tea while we bought 3 MaxAir roof vent covers to replace those damaged by trees and 2 packs of cartridges for the water filer, relieved that we didn't have to go back to Midland International for them! We arranged to return on Tuesday to have the gas appliances serviced (recommended annually but never done), talked about the RV club and rally scene and wintering in Spain, and discussed our microwave problem, which appears beyond repair. Then back to Holmfirth to resite ourselves between the puddles and the trees in the dark: the days get ever shorter, colder and wetter! A light supper and early night for Barry, feeling much better.

Another outing for Rosie to Taylormade Screens in Honley to be measured for internal cab screens (a better solution than fitting curtain and track). We talked at length to Taylor, a retired builder running the business with his wife and daughters (and 2 boxer dogs). He gave us an insight into the workings of MMM (Penny Smith and John Hunt publicise their mates, like Silver Screens, and he doesn't exist, despite advertising with them) and we're to return on Wednesday afternoon.

We continued into Huddersfield, parking at the Mecca Bingo to make coffee (the only free parking near the centre) before driving on to Waterloo to find the Caravan Repair Centre, a workshop and yard opposite the Tandem pub, where we hoped to get a new locker made in the space once occupied by the generator. The 2 men measured up to get the steel sheets made and said to return Wednesday morning - it'll be a busy day, as we've already arranged to see Turners Estate Agents, Taylormade, and call at Heaton Rd again for our old microwave if it fits.

We returned to Holme Valley via Shepley, to call at PentaPaper for some Canon Starwriter ink. The new address on Station Road looked like a private house, with no-one home but a friendly cat, so M phoned their number. The address was correct but they only work by mail order, so we ordered 2 packs to be posted to mum's and put a note with a cheque through the front door!

Back at the camping by noon, we cycled into Holmfirth for lunch at Compo's Cafe, very busy being half-term with a good weekday lunch deal (£6.50 for 2 F+C). Then shopping in an excellent new/2nd hand bookshop and the huge Co-op which had replaced Lodge's supermarket. Still showery and windy as we cycled back on the part-flooded road. The couple who own the campsite (both escaped teachers) are off to Gibraltar and Spain tomorrow for a fortnight and we can't wait to follow!

Another wet drive off the site and over to Meltham by 9.30, to leave Rosie with the Fridge Dr for the morning. It was a terrible day, lashing down with rain, sandbags holding back streams at the roadsides in Honley. Most of the half-term campers on our site have packed up and gone home, leaving just us and the resident caravans. We cycled past Barry's former home on Moorview and located the house where we'd left Pussy and Ginger with an old lady, her garden bordered by fields and a public footpath.

She was not in, but a neighbour said she'd just been taken shopping by her daughter and confirmed that there were indeed 2 cats in residence, including a ginger one often seen sitting in the garden. What good news for M, that all 3 (old lady and cats) appear to be alive and well. Rain continued to sweep across the moors as we cycled to Crossland Hill, site of good old Goodall's Caravans, now taken over by Countrywide Leisure. We sheltered in a disused warehouse there, surveying what had once been the accessory shop and free overnight park (complete with shower block and hook-ups), now derelict. But the workshops on the upper half of the site had been complemented by a new shop and caravan display and, best of all, the splendid little cafe was very much in business.

We dried off over an excellent lunch of Norwegian pork chops, jacket spuds and salad, read the rubbish in the Daily Express (a new pro-Prince-Charles book about his marriage), then browsed in the shop, for such things as batteries and bog bloo. Another wet ride back to Meltham in a head wind where we posted Alan's birthday card (a picture of Holme Valley Camping), found a bank and returned to Steve's for mugs of tea and talk. He'd serviced the fridge, cooker, boiler and heating, removed the piping to the genny locker, checked the gas pressure and claimed to have mended 5 leaks! He'd also fitted a new cover to the outside light, at a total price of £97.50. He even had a nearly-new awning which he offered to help Barry fit if we joined him in Sherwood Forest (Clumber Park C C site - the warden being a mate), where he and Janet would be after a weekend RV Club rally. It was brown, not blue, and would have to be cut down and stitched, but of course he knew a woman who could ... It was from an awning replaced on insurance because the arms were damaged, but the fabric was unharmed. We arranged to meet there next Tuesday, fitting in well with our return to Castle Cycles in Newark on Monday.

Dusk was falling again as we drove to Honley to collect our cab screens from Taylormade but they weren't quite ready, as they'd run out of suckers. We talked a while to Mrs Taylor, looking pretty weak (with a bad heart and recovering from flu). She promised the screens for tomorrow, asked about our travels, and talked longingly of a trip they'd made in an Eldis motorhome in the 70's, reaching Greece through Yugoslavia and returning via Igoumenitsa and Italy. She clearly wished Taylor would retire properly with more time to travel, though he's obviously a workaholic, suffering from ME himself. Rosie and her chauffeur now know their way back to Holme Valley in the dark, through more rain and floods, and we soon settled back among the ducks for another evening of TV - tonight's highlight for M being Delia's new weekly cookery course, with selected recipes in the Radio Times. Also rang Clumber Park to book a pitch for Monday-Tuesday.

For the 4th time Rosie was squeezed up the lane off the site and into the Huddersfield rush hour, for her appointment at the Caravan Repair Centre. But first we went to Meltham, as Barry had smelt gas when we got back yesterday and we'd turned it off (no toast for breakfast!) Steve was very apologetic, he'd forgotten to tighten a connection on the main tank when he dashed in after getting soaked (he works outside on the pavement!) We did get more tea and RV mags to read while waiting, they're a very homely couple! On to the Caravan Repair Centre, where we left Rosie to have a new outside locker welded in place while we cycled through Moldgreen back into Huddersfield centre (in the wind and rain, of course - this October is breaking all rainfall records and many rivers are flooding in Wales and the Midlands).

We changed our hoard of cash and travellers cheques in DM and US $ into GB £ at Thomas Cook's, and Barry investigated mobile phones in both the Orange and Vodafone shops. However, digital phones won't work in southern Europe and a phone to handle both digital and analogue calls (for Spain, Italy, Greece, etc) would be extremely expensive.

We were advised to wait a couple of years until digital phones become universal, or try getting one in Spain (probably impossible without a fixed abode there). After coffee in the 'Oasis' we cycled back to Rosie and made our lunch while the workmen finished off the new locker, making an excellent job of it for only £65.

We had arranged to see Geoff at Turners at 2.15 pm but rang to postpone it until tomorrow morning - we were running late due to calling at Steve's before getting the locker done. This did leave us time to shop at the Paddock warehouse before keeping our other appointment at 3.30 at Heaton Road to see if our old microwave would fit in Rosie before buying a new one (yes, to our surprise it measured a bit less than the original). All 3 tenants (plus another 'visitor') were home, watching TV and eating fish & chips in the lounge. They clearly enjoy living in our house, made us tea and wanted to talk. All young graduates, Dale and Maria both work at the Halifax BS HQ, while Philip (with a Masters degree in Hydrology) was between jobs, though he'd been working for a firm in Chesterfield. We felt grateful not to be setting out on any career in today's climate, wished them well and left with the microwave.

In Honley our cab screens were ready (£75) and we talked to the Taylors, admired their lively new 4-year old boxer dog 'Jasper' from the animal refuge (rather them than us) and got a good tip on covering the hole in the roof if we removed the air con - Taylor had put a Fantastic fan in the space. (But they cost £200-£300, plus labour to remove the air con and fit the fan, so we should try to sell the air con unit to cover this - perhaps next year, right now it's heating we need, not cooling!)

Back at the site, still muddy, still raining, we enjoyed fitting our new quilted internal cab screens (as well as the external ones), and Barry removed Rosie's dead microwave and installed the one from Heaton Road. It's great to have a working microwave again (it packed up about a year ago in Turkey) and after consulting the young woman running the site we dumped the old one in the disabled toilet/shower pending the owners' return. (She's had a postcard and they're sunbathing in Spain!) They can try to mend it or take it to the tip, we haven't room to carry two.

Leaving Rosie for a well-earned rest after all her fittings, we cycled the 6 rainy windy miles into Huddersfield, straight to Turners Estate Agents for a meeting with Geoff Rothery, who is managing the business (Brian Turner, retired after a heart attack last April, awaits triple bypass surgery next year). Brian was, in fact, in the office (still involved, he comes in some mornings) and we wished him well, though he didn't look it. We told Geoff we were happy with the new tenants and there were no outstanding problems (Jim and Nancy had gone quiet on the boundary wall and fixed it, since being asked to prove it was our responsibility!) On the question of selling, we were again told it was a bad time, the market in Huddersfield was terrible, prices were low ... Are there any cheerful estate agents?

We cheered ourselves with coffee and teacakes before riding to Wheelspin Cycles in search of new winter Sidi shoes for Barry (they've come unstuck again). Of course, they only had chunky mountain bike boots at £85 a pair and regarded us as sad dinosaurs wanting something to fit inside a toe clip! On to the Do-it-all store for an electrical socket to be fitted for the fan heater and other bits. Then out to Moldgreen in search of Norman's outdoor activities shop (which had moved from Birkby) as Barry also needed trekking boots to replace those worn out on Corsican granite. We found Norman, in a smart new store, but with none of the atmosphere or bargains of his old corner shop so beloved of John Covell. In fact, he'd nothing to fit, but we got good mugs of tea and bacon butties at the 'Rest Awhile Cafe' round the corner.

Back into the fray of Huddersfield in search of a new personal organiser, as the Sharp 128K has been behaving oddly, refusing to register 4 5 or 6 and throwing up random numbers when a space is tapped! Naturally, Comet (relocated on the Ring Road) and Dixons said it wasn't worth repairing and the model was obsolete (2 years old!) Comet offered a mini-computer at over £100, but hadn't actually got one in stock. Dixons were more helpful and had a good offer on a Packard Bell 256K, with free leather case and £10 discount. This time we took out the optional guarantee extension (3 years), with the wisdom of hindsight. Now it's just a matter of transferring all the data before the old one gives up entirely. Our last stop in the town centre was Dysons Greengrocers, who had German chocolate marzipans in for Christmas, then back via Rainbow Cycles in Lockwood (now renamed the Proper Bike Company), but again no winter Sidis.

We got home just before dark (5 pm), the continuing rain swelling the River Holme which borders the site.

A dry, if cold, day at last! Barry was busy installing a new switched socket for the fan heater, fixing batons in the microwave cabinet to stop it sliding, putting a fresh cartridge in the water filter and getting to know his new organiser.

Margaret used the campsite washer (£1, 10 FF or 3 DM - a chance to spend some German coins!) but the tumble drier only took 20p (and lots of them). Something we've only ever needed in this country! We also wrote to Abbey National about the buildings insurance on Heaton Road, which they'd abruptly decided to cancel from tomorrow! As advised by Turners, we pleaded for an extension.

After lunch M cycled into Holmfirth to post this, then made an apple cake in the microwave and worked on the diary, which keeps getting behind!

Cold, overcast but dry again. Another working day, stitching the straps on our new cycle helmets, cooking, cleaning, getting the bicycles ready to leave in Newark and moving things into the new outside locker.

The campsite was very quiet, most of the resident workers going home at the weekend, and we explored it and took some photos. The owners had bought the site as a disused rubble tip in 1982 (Lower Mytholmbridge Mills were demolished in the late 70's) and cleared, drained and levelled it, building the toilet and shower block from stone dumped in the mill dam. The mill pond, home to ducks, toads, frogs and heron, is now stocked with coarse fish for anglers, and kingfishers catch minnows and brown trout in the river. The woodland is a designated Site of Scientific Interest, full of birds, wild flowers, fungi, butterflies, insects, small mammals, and we got a detailed list of the flora and fauna in the campsite Bio-Diversity Audit.

Much of the rubbish is recycled, the water warmed by solar panels (not this week!) and low-energy lighting is used. A future project is to build a bio-gas generator. This environmental concern won a David Bellamy Conservation Award (Silver) last year, and a Gold this year, along with a Huddersfield Riverside Award from Kirklees LA, because of their maintenance of the river and its wildlife habitats (notwithstanding some 'Last of the Summer Wine' filming on their stone bridge and in the woods last August!)

Also rang mum, who reported that our pack of ink had arrived from Pentapaper, Eve had left a message, and Alan and Pauline were in York for the weekend following the loss of Suki, their number 2 cat. On TV, 'Casualty' was followed by a film with Harrison Ford as 'The Fugitive', and we taped a Bob Dylan tour for our winter viewing collection.