So here we are camped out on the forecourt sorting endless paperwork and specification details while all around us RV's and their owners come and go. We are more than happy in our gulfstream, she keeps us warm and copes with an erratic water supply and the construction of emergency washing lines on her outside mirrors after the staff have gone home.
We diligently abide by the unspoken rule that nightwear is never to be worn in communal areas. We try to keep a low profile by making trips into town, going for a swim and steam, hiding in the bus and never using the forecourt bathroom facilities while the lads are working. We apply the British stiff upper lip approach to our current situation and the mantra that every problem is an opportunity in work clothes! (and to think I was known for this phrase in my working days, bullshit really but entertaining bullshit).
We've sampled all the modes of transport available to us; bikes, taxis, buses, trams, a merc, a mitsubishi colt and most recently the 'van'. Mr H was negotiating the ring road when it got stuck in 3rd gear. As the air turned blue he struggled to avoid the locals and negotiate a safe passage to Sainsbury's. After stocking up with supplies we pushed the van backwards out of the parking bay (no reverse gear) and started her up in 3rd arriving back at camp safely.