Cornwall to Salisbury and on to Ramsgate.
Well the first part of the trip is complete, the first 5% actually. It’s hard to put things into perspective and on trips of this length the only way to deal with it is to break it down into small bite size chunks. So here follows my first bite size blog so far.
The weather as we (Austin and I) drove out of the county was as perfect as you could hope for. In fact, I had to stop and put some suntan lotion on my arm to stave off firstly sunburn but ultimately Cabbies Arm (where one arm is tanned a great deal more than the other).
Considering I was running late I eventually pulled into a campsite in the middle of Salisbury having decided that it must surely be a better place to stop than Southampton. After a delightful meal of mash and spam I walked into the town for a little exercise before passing out at about eight-ish. Rock and roll lifestyle!!
We were up and gone by 7am the following morning. The rest of the campsite slept on while Austin and I stopped in a layby next to Stonehenge and ate muesli from my canteen. A courier I met in the garage was adamant that the route should be up the motorway. ‘It’ll take you for-f***ing- ever if you go the coast route’ and that I should have a sleep in the car at Fleetwood services to ‘avoid the rush hour’. This sounded a little dodgy and I wasn’t sure if I was being propositioned. I went the Coast Route.
The sun from the day before had gone and the day stretched out beneath a thick layer of cloud. Southampton, went passed, then Portsmouth and on to Hastings. Then the courier’s advice came back to haunt me, because the road from Hasting to Ramsgate did indeed take ‘for-f***ing- ever’.
I arrived in Ramsgate shattered and boss-eyed with the driving and map reading. I swung into the first campsite I found and started to unpack as I tried hard not to fall asleep before I even got the tent up. The tent next to me turned out to be very nice Dutch guy, Frank and his daughter Marije. They had been to Norwich to pick up an MG for him to work on. I hadn’t really spoken to anyone for about 48 hours and although I did my best I nearly chewed his ear off in a haze of manic driver fatigue. Like a good Englishman I showed some restraint and let them go to dinner without having to drag me along, but the next morning we all departed for the ferry terminal together.
I’ve tried to keep this brief but let me know if you would like to know a little more or more likely a little less.
Have a good week folks
Cheers Matt
matthewbutton.co.uk
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