Tell us a story...

[Wobble’s Mum]

On Sunday, after carefully and thoughtfully packing up an epic picnic for a day up on Dartmoor, we headed out for an idyllic few hours, in perfect weather. Having found a lovely spot with panoramic views, the day couldn't get much better - three generations - mother, myself and my daughter, my partner and dog, all loving life in the clean open air.
Until the ponies turned up. Bold as brass. Straight into the awning they came and basically stole any food they fancied. I did post a video on the FB page of the salad being strewn all over the floor, and Neddy making off with a punnet of grapes. It was very funny and just a little bit scary, as no way was I going to argue with a rather large Neddy over a £2 plastic tub of fruit. I'm glad he enjoyed them.

It got me wondering; what memorable antics are you willing to share involving your Cali?

 

[calikev]

Lol I did see your video very funny

 

[SimonB]

We were going to have a Bar-B-Q in the Mendips a couple of years ago. We were in a field next to a car park and we had the coals glowing nicely. We had balanced the metal foot scraper from outside our front door at home over 4 stones to form the grill.
A large herd of bulls suddenly appeared and were walking over to join us. They came from a hollow which was why we hadn't seen them. We decided to exit the area rapidly and took all our food, etc and ran back to the car park. We had to leave the foot scraper there as it was rather hot.
The leading bull walked up to the fire and put it out by p**ing on it. Quite put a dampener on the proceedings and spoilt the Bar-B-Q.

 

[Verity]

We stupidly left some grub in our awning in Wales last year, and a fox managed to come in and help himself. My husband woke up and shooed him out, but he came back looking for more. When we went out in the morning, there were bread rolls and hot cross buns all over the place. I wonder why he, or his mates, didn't eat all the stuff they nicked!

 

[MattBW]

Not really a Cali story but I learned a valuable lesson this day and Im sure its useful for all...

It was a glorious but chilly November Sunday and we decided to take Cookie my first T25 camppervan for a proper run to blow out the cobwebs and of course drink a cup of tea somewhere with a view. After a brief google and some suggestions from the club80-90 bunch, we settled on British Camp in the Malverns. For those who haven’t been, its a beautiful series of Iron age earthworks that used to be home to a fort around 2 BC. For me it would be the first visit and although I was nervous of the hills in my humble 1.6 diesel bus, I was assured the climb was worth it.

We pootled along, hoping to arrive before sunset, enjoying the glorious afternoon sunshine., the views got better and better as we approached the Malverns. As is always the way with me, I planned to take a few snaps on the phone and with my compact camera. Despite being a portrait photographer, I really don’t like to carry my SLRs with me on trips and so pack light, but memories are a must. The photo below and the final image are the only two pictures I took on the day.

Cookie struggled up the final steep hill, my first time in the horse power challenged bus, 1st gear was the only way on the final leg. Then at the top as we arrived by the Malvern Hill Hotel , the engine spluttered and died…

Now, it’s worth pointing out at this point that I had no fuel gauge, it didn't work at all and although we had been told that 300 miles before top up was fine, we had hit around 250 miles. We thought we had run out of fuel but at least we were next to a pub. Various locals offered to find us fuel but realised that most of the local garages would be shut early that day. So we resigned ourselves to calling the AA and waited with a cup of tea and a bakewell tart… I have to admit for my first breakdown, the bus was much more preferable to my other experience in a new car on the M1.

Mark the friendly AA man turned up, within minutes had discovered my other car is an Alfa and so we got on like a house on fire. Well to be more exact he forgave me for owning a AA man magnet… Then again some might argue an Alfa is the same. We didn’t let on we thought we may have ran out of diesel. As luck would have it within ten seconds he had spotted a broken wire and he reconnected it and asked me to fire it up. She started and Mark set about fixing the wire properly. Two minutes later, he invited me to start her again.

In my excitement of discovering that Cookie wasn’t a lemon and would live again, I leapt in via the sliding door and stood up slightly too early. My girlfriend later thought someone had crashed into the van the noise was apparently so loud, but no it was just my thick skull hitting metal.

I know many camper owners will have done this and on my first trip out I was fully welcomed into the camper club by splitting my head open. I waited for a few seconds to see if I would bleed but I knew the answer even before I felt it. Fortunately I am it seems calm when I bleed and our AA friend was brilliant too. I got told off for trying to take my coat off (it was new!) and apparently asked very gently if my new GF was ok with blood. The fact I was saying this looking like Carrie’s long lost brother probably didn’t enhance my attempt at calm concern.

Mark kindly lead us to the nearest hospital, and I braced myself for a 4 hour wait… On the drive there, me in the passenger seat Vanessa looked concerned.

“Does it hurt?” she asked thoughtfully.

“I must admit my arms are aching holding this towel in place for so long” I replied.

Warning image of my head woundBizarrely the hospital was a specialist unit and not your standard A&E, they dealt almost exclusively with head injuries (what are the chances?) . I signed in at reception and sat there with Vanessa for all of 2 minutes before I was called in to get my scalp glued. Probably my best NHS experience ever.

Vanessa drove back, and my concerns about Cookie holding up trucks were gone as she overtook trucks and cars a plenty. The first few we pondered getting little stickers like pilots might place on their fighter aircraft for each truck we overtook but it soon became apparent I’d need a bigger van.

So now back to today, the rather horrific gaping wound has thankfully shrunk to a tiny size, but the little bump is still there, an unusual momento of my first day out in my t25 bus

 

[Wobble’s Mum]

Ouch!!!!

 

[OGII]

Another preCali tale.

Hot summers say in 95. First proper trip in a slightly ropey '72 T2, laden with kayaks heading along M4 on the way to Austria.

About 70 miles from home after happily if noisily bowling along at a heady 60 mph it suddenly felt like we were in reverse. A hairy manoeuvre across to the hard shoulder and pooing the bonnet revealed bits of engine casing everywhere.

A long wait for the AA man to arrive telling us he hated these things (always causing him grief...) and a tow to Chievely. There then followed a mong series of phone calls with AA 5star about whether our bus was covered (being over 15 years old). About 4 hours later they conceded that we would be recovered and ceremoniously dumped off the truck back home at 4am.

At 9 we hit the phones, £750 of replacement hire car cover to be spent. Local minibuses all booked, eventually finding a van hire company willing to overlook their usual no Europe rule when told charge us up to £750 we arent paying ourselves.

Top blokes then give us a delivery miles Transit ( sorry, I know it's not one of ours) fully fuelled and a roif rack found. We drove day and night arriving only an hour later than planned and meeting our friends who had camped on way down .

2 weeks of fooling around on the whitewater rivers later, using the van as the most basic of windowless campers with the Dubs seat cushions for a bed.

On way home we tried to refuel a near empty 2.5 litre Transit outside Calais only to find the fuel cap jammed. Somehow we made it back to the depot in Bristol running on fumes.

Everytime my wife looks longingly at a bay windowed VW i just smile and am thankful for a modern diesel.

Some weird spell check action there! Joys of typing on a phone at 4am on a Lyon bound coach.