25th July 2005
Hi all,
Last weekend Lorraine and I were round at one of her cousin's houses for lunch. In the midst of an enjoyable conversation they mentioned someone they know who really likes hooking up their caravan, driving all the way to the South Coast of England, getting on a ferry, and then driving through France and Italy with their caravan in tow.
Somehow I felt that Lorraine's cousin admired their sense of adventure. Personally I couldn't have felt differently. Thankfully I didn't actually utter the word, "idiot".
My dislike for caravans goes back a long time. My Dad used to run a caravan and camping site, so in the summers I used to see a lot of the things. Before him my Grandfather was involved in the caravan industry. Contrary to popular opinion I think I was lucky to get my love for Crystal Palace from them and not a love of caravans instead.
To make things worse my in-laws love caravans. When Lorraine and I had only been going out a few weeks Lorraine's Dad mentioned that he was going to their caravan in the near future, and then asked me if liked caravans. I politely mentioned that I wasn't keen on them, somehow holding myself back from a full-on Stuart Mackenzie-esque rant about the subject.
I've heard some people voice the opinion that women end up marrying men who are like their fathers. If that's true I've got something major to worry about - apparently my father-in-law wasn't keen on caravans when he was my age either. The difference is that I'm already determined not to change my mind on the subject.
You're probably wondering why I don't like caravans. Allow me to explain.
First of all there's the cost. Lorraine's cousin put the cost of a new caravan at ?16,000. That amount would take a major slice off my mortgage. Even if I wasn't going to put that money towards my mortgage it could instead buy two brand new cars, or Lorraine and I could go to Florida four times. No, instead we could take out own little home from home an hour down the road, causing a traffic jam behind us and burning off petrol at an astonishing rate.
You see it would be one thing if the cost started and ended with the purchase, but it doesn't. Throw in the extra petrol you use - one friend of ours bought a caravan and claimed it more than halved the amount of mileage he got from a tank of petrol. Now add in caravan insurance, pitch fees, gas bottles and you're looking at a lot of added expense. Personally I'd prefer spending the extra money on cold drinks when you're somewhere hot.
There isn't just the money, there are the cramped conditions. I made some really good friends at my Dad's camp site, but to be honest we were younger and we were outside enjoying the nice weather, rarely sitting inside. Fortunately the weather was nice on most occasions that I remember. Times spent inside talking were few and far between, but I do remember what it was like to crowd around those propped up tables by the front window of a caravan. It was a good job we were all friends.
It isn't just the length and width of a caravan which was cramped, there was also the matter of height. Not such a problem when I was twelve, more of a problem when I was meeting the same friends when I was fifteen. Thankfully when I see these friends now it isn't at their caravan.
I'll be honest here, if anything was likely to change my mind about caravans it would be the one owned by my in-laws. Brand new, plush furnishings, built-in CD player, great appliances and it even has its own bathroom. It even feels roomy length and width-wise. Then you stand up - bump! It still isn't right height-wise. I guess they're just not designed for anyone over six feet in height. My father-in-law is more C3P0 than R2D2, I'm not sure how he copes with it to be honest with you.
If you weren't inside a caravan itself you might choose to amuse yourself in an awning. Awnings are basically big storage tents, allowing people to put tables, chairs and sunloungers somewhere overnight instead of having to fold them right away. During daylight hours they only serve two purposes:
1) To allow people to sit and watch people stumble up and down a wobbly caravan step.
2) To become a large capacity, plastic-coated oven (mmm, that burning plastic smell, mmmm).
Of course there is the amusement of watching some try to put an awning up when they don't know what they're doing. In the absence of football I think this is my father-in-law's summer spectator sport.
So there it is, exactly why I'll never be a fan of caravans. Then again if I had to choose between a caravan or going to Tenerife again there is the remote chance that I might become like my father-in-law after all (but don't put money on it).
Have a good week!
Tony
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