Wednesday, 18 March 2009

Is there anybody out there?


If you have stumbled across this blog in cyberspace, are a friend or family member, or you are thinking of living in a caravan, or you are a Scouser who enjoys teaching others how to fish, you can follow the blog by clicking on the box in the blog page.

If you don't have a Google, or Yahoo account I can recommend them, get yourself one and leave us a comment, a recipe, a fishing tip or a joke.

Spectator Sports!


I awoke with enthusiasm for my days fishing. Although last weeks attempt ended with a tiny fish, fishing seems to have the power to make you believe that today's the day' and that record breaking fish is gonna take the bait!

It was an absolutely spectacular day. The sun was burning bright and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. Perfect.

I tackled up, got my stuff together, and toddled off for a day by the lake. Following last weeks failures I decided to try a different spot on the other side of the lake. I set myself up and settled down to catch the fish of a lifetime.

Now, by no means to do I know what I'm doing. I've watched a few videos on the sport and read a few tutorials online, but in reality, I am most definitely a beginner. In fact, if you imagine Mr Bean fishing, think me, your not far off.

'Eee Aaa mate' I heard the unmistakable scouse accent behind me. Your doing it all wrong. 'No kidding mate' I thought as I wrestled with the small hook which was caught in my tracksuit dangerously close to my crown jewels'

I mentioned yesterday that all of nature around us is starting to wake up from its winter slumber and buzz around the place. This included three Scousers who should have been working on a site close by, but had the day off, they had obviously decided to spend it fishing with me! Great!

It was my day off, I wanted to fish, badly, on my own, and relax. My job takes me through enough inane conversations to last me a lifetime, I wasn't in the mood for one waterside. The sun was doing its best to defrost my shoulder that I was trying to give the Scousers. It was a sunny day. I relinquished, and I think, I have just made my first campsite buddies, watch this space!

There were two young lads, probably early 20's, and one older guy, prob early 50's. They are living on site whilst they do a job, they all love fishing, and they all intend to get their rods out at some point,

'How long are you staying'? I politely enquired

'Three years' came the reply

'Three years'? I was flabbergasted

'Yeah mate' its a big contract

I felt like I was sat in the canteen in a prison.

I cast my little bit of bread into the tree, I wasn't happy.

Now, there is nothing more peaceful than looking at your float in the water, checking it obsessively for any minuscule signs of movement, in the vain hope of that elusive bite. Sharing that with three other people, isn't quite the same.

Luckily, two more people arrived!

Here I am, sat in approx 1000 hectares of woodland and countryside sharing a fishing peg with five people. Three Scouse fisherman (no rods) and now joined by an oldish guy and a rather odd women. He cracked a can, she opened a bottle of wine, and they got their sandwiches out.

There I was looking for the reincarnation of Jeremy Beadle to arrive whilst texting Jodes to alert her to the fact that there was a small festival springing up on fishing peg number 3, urging here to get along that was fast becoming THE place to be, not only on this campsite, but seemingly in the entire of the Holme Valley.

Luckily for me, I cast into the tree again, despite the blushes, I was able to make a hasty exit and retreat to my tent to reflect on my fishing career

'That disaster over there is my Dad'


A tale I've been meaning to tell...............

Before we moved our settee into the awning, we had pretty much been using the van as our main space. Kier came over at weekend to sleep for the first time. We put his bunk up and made up all the beds, very cosy, very intimate and very cramped!

We power the caravan with a combination of 12v car battery and mains electric. The lighting system is run from the 12v battery. You get about three days of lights on your battery, your then supposed to switch to mains and recharge. We had been warned by the campsite owner, never to use the emergency electric token, because, the scenario is bound to happen, where you have an emergency and you need your electric. You should never leave yourself without.

Cue Dad!

Most of the above jobs I have taken responsibility for, being the man of the van of course.
I was sat on the bed, Jodes was making hot chocolate, and Kier was on his bunk. Happy families, poised for a happy night of caravanning together.

I accidentally knocked the lamp over and smashed the bulb, plunging the van into darkness. As I reached up to switch the lights on I knocked over a fresh pint of cider all over the van floor. As I flicked the switch of the light I remembered I'd forgot to charge the battery, no worries proclaimed Jodes, we've got enough electric to get a quick charge, it will be fine, but we'll have to use the emergency electric. Where is the emergency electric? Jodi asked.

The truth emerged shortly enough, and in a space of around three minutes, it was apparent that not only should I have been more careful in the first place, I should have remembered to charge the battery, and probably shouldn't have used the emergency electric token without telling anyone. It went quiet whilst we contemplated a dark cold night.

It was left to Kier to summarise.

'That disaster over there is my Dad'

The timing of his remark was absolutely perfect.

We all spent the next ten minutes howling with laughter, thumping the van floor in hysterics, an hilarious moment.

Well...........I guess you had to be there.

Tuesday, 17 March 2009

Nature's Way


It's beautiful day today, probably the best of the year so far. We've moved into the awning, put a settee and a stove in there and doubled our chilling space. One step closer to nature again. Just sat here, I keep getting visits from curious and probably hungry animals. A few ducks, Mutthead, another cat, a blackbird, a few other unidentifiable birds, and as I write, a little robin has hopped on the drying rail outside, and popped his head in the awning window.

A few daffodils have appeared at the back of the van, a sure sign that our world around us is waking up after winter. In the river behind us a few small trout are staring to jump out, looking for flies to catch.

The trees are humming with birdsong ,whilst their first green shoots of the year start to poke through. This place around us is growing everyday, our van is amongst around 100 trees, all bare at the moment, but as the spring progresses, they'll all soon have leaves.

I saw two male ducks fighting over a female earlier, a little squirrel looking for bits to eat, a frog hopped on by last night, spring is in the air1

We're starting to settle in, it all feels very natural to be here, amongst nature. I'm certain there is something in everyone that immediately connects to nature, some oneness.

We''ll see tomorrow, I'm off fishing.

Friday, 13 March 2009

What the Duck ?


A duck just came into our awning, ate a piece of poo from Luke's litter tray, had a poo of its own on our doorstep and left!

What a sight.

Gonna e-mail Attenborough

Feline Groovy


Well, here's the cat update as promised.
Literally within moments of me finishing the last blog concerning Luke's reluctance to leave the van, the most extreme turnaround took place. I closed the laptop, looked at Luke, who looked at me with some sort of telepathic embarrassment.
He pricked his ears, shook himself down and headed straight for the caravan door, out he went, through the awning and into the big wide world.
Within moments he was surrounded by three different cats, all in their own outposts near their van. I went into our camper van to listen to the footy and to take a ringside seat. It was Luke's time, his moment, I didn't want to miss it.
A cat sprinted and lunged at Luke, had a few digs, backed off and gave Luke the hard stare. Luke did not budge. Undeterred in his quest for personal freedom Luke stood his ground and waited for the next round of attacks. Strike 2 was a bit more intense, the cats coming together and exchanging swipes and bites, and the most eerie sounds. They have a whole different vocal range when they are fighting, quite a strange sound.
Jodi appeared out of the van and shooed the cat away. It seemed to do the trick, for little Luke has since had no real bother about going outside.
He's taking it slowly but he's started to explore a little more. When he gets going, he'll find he's in cat heaven with all the trees and wildlife around.
Anyway.
I'm going to sign out and look for a cat blog site, I'm a proud cat lover now!

Wednesday, 11 March 2009

Cat Psycho-ology


Its cat time again.


Luke has lost it basically. Since his adventure a few days back he has barely been out of the van, prefering instead to watch the world go by from the comfort of the bed. We have been trying to piece together his strange behaviour since those missing hours and have come to the following conclusions.


I must thank the numerous cat lovers who have spent hours of their life uploading their knowledge of all things feline, and a special mention to Luke our cat for changing me from a non cat person to someone who now spends 2 hours a day on cat psychology websites.


He has lost confidence. It appears when he went awol, he ran into the other cats who live on the caravan site.( So far, four have been sited) Apparently cats mark out their territoires, venture into theirs at your peril. Our Luke, fresh from wandering round a music venue after hours, trotted off into the night totally unaware of his surroundings. He was attacked, by one, if not more cats. He then went to ground until it was safe to return.


The chief suspect is posted above. He is currently named Mutthead, the apparent ringleader of Holme Valley Campsite Cat Crew (HVCCC) He is well hard. He won't even budge when you try to shoo him. He comes and sits outside our van and stares out the quivering Luke. We also think he's eating Lukes dinner in the awning.
So here we are caged in our van with Mutthead and crew camped outside. Luke is currently cowering under the bed, we keep trying to put him into the awning, he just won't have it. According to the cat shrinks, we need to walk around the campsite with some of his litter in a plastic bag to get his smell around the place. Great. What an impression we're making here!
All in all, its still peaceful, its still beautiful, Jodes and I are having a great time. I hope I can report some exciting Luke news shortly, like his first kill or something. Until then its life for him in a van

Catch you later


I spent a good eight hours by the pond today! A day that start brimming with promise and optimism, ended in a tree, by a river, next to an empty net.

Fishing is one of those curious pastimes that has the magnetism to make you stay so long in one place, without barely anything happening. There is absolutely no way I would spend eight hours just staring at water if I didn't have a rod.

It was uneventful to say the least. In fact, the most exciting thing of the day was watching a robin, playing tamely next to me, I could have practically fed it with my hand. It spent most of the day hanging around, picking up titbits of bait that didn't make it into the water, his friend popped by too. No doubt when I go out hunting birds tomorrow the fish will just jump out of the water straight into my net. I will confess to a passing thought of hooking the robin, and using it as bait. Well, they say you have to try anything to get a fish!

So in the end, I caught just one little fish, not much bigger than my hand. It wasn't quite the return I was hoping for, but still not a total wipeout. I shall study some fishing tuition websites and make my return to the pond within the next few days.................Watch this space.

Murdering Worms

I intend to spend the day, or the best part of it fishing! It has been six months since I last fished after taking it up last summer to help alleviate work stress. Saying that, I have fantasised nightly about fishing as a method of getting to sleep. Beats counting sheep.

About 50ft from our door is a small lake, or a large pond. In the summer months you can see the fish clearly swimming around, including large carp. These carp are my intended quarry today. I caught an 8 lb one last year, it took me 20 minutes to get it in the net. It was that experience that left me hooked.

Here's a nice fish http://www.ebrocatncarp.com/images/karens-30lb.jpg

The carp are a wily, clever fish, that have historically had fisherman spending hours hunting them down, and coming up with all methods to try and catch them. Its certainly not easy!

I hope when I come to the blog later I have a nice photo and a big smile on. However, it could more than likely be a tale of the one that got away.

As an ex veggie and a general fan of all things non violent, I'm still wrestling with fishing guilt. I have basically put the feelings of the fish to one side in favour of my own. Its entertainment at the end of the day, and I'm not sure I can justify dragging a fish half way across a pond with a super sharp piece of metal in its lip, just so I have something to do. Anyway. I'm gonna put the guilt to one side.

Despite the name of the thread, I'm not doing worms or maggots, I'll limit my environmental impact to sweetcorn, pork luncheon meat and bread. What a joyful lunch for a fish!

Monday, 9 March 2009

Holmfirth - Hollywood. One and the same

I promised earlier I would study our surroundings, Holmfirth in particular.

It seems that LotSW wasn't the valleys first televisual masterpiece. I cut and paste the following from the trusty fave -Wiki.

Holmfirth was the home of Bamforths, who were well known for their cheeky sea-side postcards - although around the time of the First World War, they produced postcards of a more sober nature. The printing works, on Station Road, has now been converted into residential apartments.
The Bamforths were early pioneers of film making, before they abandoned the business in favour of postcards. During the early 1900s Holmfirth was well known for film making, and the West Yorkshire film industry, for a time, surpassed that of Hollywood, in terms of productivity and originality. Interestingly ancient documents have the town's name spelt 'Holm Frith' which can be translated as 'Holly Wood', though the word "Firth" is an old English name meaning 'wood and woodland' indicating the name means Holme woods.

Yes. It's true. Holm Frith means Hollywood!

The other thing Holmfirth has a history for is flooding. Again I cut and paste from Wiki.

There are a number of instances when flooding has occurred in the Holme Valley affecting Holmfirth and other settlements in the valley. The earliest recorded one being in 1738 and the latest in 1944. The most severe flood occurred early on the morning of 5 February 1852, when the embankment of the Bilberry reservoir collapsed causing the deaths of 81 people. Following a severe storm in 1777 the River Holme burst its banks, sweeping away people and property with the loss of three lives, and the stone church built in 1476, was swept away. A storm in 1821 again caused the river to burst its banks. The flooding on the night of 29 May 1944 was not nationally reported and it was then overshadowed by the Normandy Campaign the following week.

Blog Day

I have taken the day off work today. Not just to write this blog, but to relax, unwind, and enjoy my new surroundings. Its so beautiful. There is hardly a soul around today. I've just been sat in the van, drinking tea, and typing up this blog. So for the first time in the blog I'm writing in realtime.

I have a few jobs to do, fix the awning, change the caravan battery, create a little path to stop the spreading of mud.

Its so far so good. The silence is still beautiful to be a part of, the windows are open, I'm well wrapped and can feel the chilly wind on my face. I'm alive.

There is a lovely atmosphere around the site. There are about 10 other vans with people living full time and then probably about another 15 with frequent visitors. There is a nice sense of community here, without it being in your face and intrusive.

So.

I'm off to do my jobs

Cat Nap

Around 4:30 am this morning, there was a little knock, from a little paw, and a little meaow from a bloody mouth.

Soaking, bleeding, but looking like he'd had a thouroughly great time Luke Skywalker came back into our lives. Oh my God, I've never been so pleased to see a cat in all my life.

Lots of cuddles later we all fell asleep together for a beautiful few hours, one happy family.

I was awoken at 6:30 am again by the said cat having his morning absolutions in his litter tray about 12 yards from my nose.

Welcome home Luke. We love you

Caravan Curry

So a first for us.

We came back from town about 11:30pm hungry with no food on. We are both big curry lovers, and both very fussy about takeaways etc. We chanced on the Kyber Pass in Newsome, a risky choice, but one that proved worthwhile. I reccomend the Lamb Bhuna.

We sat and chatted, drank wine and cider, it still very much feels like a holiday, its very new, novel, exciting. I hope this felling doesn't change too much.

We ate the curry, and off to bed we went. It was 1:20 am, and after 12 hours, still no cat!

Luke, use the force. 'LOST - WHITE CAT CALLED LUKE'


Its weird having feelings for a cat. I've never especially been a cat lover. I've always found their aloofness and timidness quite off putting. I prefer dogs, who obey you and do as you say, an if they don't you can tie them up and leave them in the rain. They still love you afterwards.

Despite this. I was extremely worried that our cat Luke Skywalker who had only one hour of being outside for the first time in three months under his belt, had not been seen since the hailstorm.

Luke is a timid cat at best. If you sneeze he'll run a mile. Kier was also upset about Skywalkers disappearance. Although our Luke is all white, the similarities between him and the original Luke Skywalker end there. There is no way that Obi Wan Kenobi would select our Luke to take out the Death Star. Quite frankly he's not up to it.

I pondered all of this whilst walking around the site making kissing noises to try and attract the cat. Of course the rest of the site was completely oblivious to this, as they didn't know the cat was missing. It was just me and these noises with an occasional outreaching of my hand. I received a few looks of concern from other campers.

After a three rigorous intense searches I had pretty much given up on ever seeing Luke again. The emotional experience I felt was peculiar, I didn't really realised I cared so much for Luke. He was part of our little family though, and after being couped up in the pub for three months we knew how much he would have enjoyed life here. Five hours had passed and still no sign.

I spent a couple of hours researching cat psychology online. There were some crazy miraculous stories of survival and cats turning up hundreds of miles away, it made me realise how much cats mean to people and why. Its all a little strange really.

If you ever lose your cat in similar circumstances try this website

http://www.soyouhavelostyourcat.co.uk/

I had to leave to go to work about six o clock. Luke had been missing for 5 hours. We were all really worried!

Childhood lost

I spent the first 16 years of life having Mother Nature as my back garden. Surrounded by trees and countryside, this was my playground for my childhood. I climbed every tree possible in our village, walked and explored every brook, stream and river. Got muddy, soaked. Fell out of trees, off roofs, snapped rope swings. OK, you get the idea. Sabdens very own Huckleberry Finn!

How much Kier would enjoy us living here was central to our decision to move here. With my work, and the housing we've lived in recently it doesn't lend itself to being a little boy who wants to make friends, run around, and, do all the things I did when I was his age.

It made me aware of generations of children who don't have regular access to countryside and nature, and have to fall on other forms of entertainment. Our back to back house in Birkby with a fast road through it, and volatile neighbours was just an awful place to live, but a horrible place to spend your childhood.

When we arrived at the van it was pretty wet, after a boring hour of catching up and both of us wanting to get outside, the skies turned blue. We went for a walk. I showed K his boundaries, and laid down a few rules. He has so much space to play in. Rivers, trees, fishing, football and the rest. What a playground.

The clouds blew over and we went back in the van. Jodi set off to town, and then the most intense hail storm unfolded. Pink sheet lightening, loud cracks of thunder. Within 5 minutes, the whole place was covered in white. It was beautiful. Being an inch or two away from extreme weather in a little van was amazing!

(As I write a hailstorm has just started)

The storm cleared over and me and K went for another explore.

From nowhere out popped an 8 year old boy on a bike. Fantastic.

Watching these two young boys, speeding around the place on their bikes was amazing. Harry, K's new mate lives here, and more than likely will be here every time K comes to visit.

They bombed through puddles, up and down hills, lots of mud. Got to know each other. Listening and watching them get to know each other was beautiful, and already it was looking like the perfect move for us.

I spent the afternoon sat watching them out of the window, sat in silence, looking at the trees. I could feel myself really starting to relax, away from the stresses of work and the world at large. I was unwinding.

Jodi was off doing her own thing for the day.
I was unwinding on the bed
Kier was skidding through puddles with H

What could possibly go wrong now?...................................................

Hang on a minute 'Where's the cat?'

Where are we?

SUNDAY AM

Still getting used to our locale. I had to pick Kier up from his mums. Having no knowledge of the immediate area, I decided to use the Sat Nav on my phone! The thing about SatNav is (or at least mine) is that it has no concept of realistic driving conditions, so it expects you to be travelling at constant speeds in order to keep up with it.

Anyway, we fell out in Honley Centre when he insisted I needed to turn left into a Doctors car park and then continue for 1.6km. That would have took me through the poor Docs surgery and around 25 small terraced houses. I told him (SatNav) where to go and decided to use my inner navigational voices to guide me to Almondbury.

I arrived in Almondbury about an hour later!

Having an 8 year old boy direct you on roads you don't know made me feel foolish. Ignoring him and getting lost made me feel considerably more so. I must have driven for about 5 miles without recognising anywhere. I eventually picked up a sign for Honley, and 20 mins later rolled into the caravan park

Sweet Dreams Are Made of This

Jodi woke me up at about 8am. She was crying in her sleep. I woke her up, she was a little shaken and upset.

She had just dreamt I'd died and she was sifting through my belongings. Poor Jodes.

I don't know what would be worst actually. It would be pretty bad if died. It would also be horrendous sifting through my stuff.

If I do die whilst doing this blog, I apologise in advance

Our new home on wheels

Saturday March 7th.

Following our explore of the local woods, we took a trip up to Holmfirth. We got a cheap bacon butty from the Methodist mission and felt a little guilty I was only in there for a cheap butty and didn't share the view of the world that these generous people did. The guilt didn't last long, as the multitude of cafes and 'deli shop's this little village has, all charged at least double for a bacon butty. Big shout to the Methodist ladies. God bless you.

Holmfirth is a peculiar town, and one I intend to get to know better. The village, so it seems, is essentially set up around the fact that 'Last of the Summer Wine' was filmed here! It is literally a tourist village. How bizarre that a pretty naff programme like LotSW could attract so many people to a village. I'm certain the village has a history that stretches beyond the 1980's. I'll do a bit if research, and no doubt post my exciting findings here!

We got back to the site, and sat impatiently for our new home to arrive!

Andy and Gill delivered our van, and we hitched it onto the new pitch. We dropped the legs, and after a while getting it sorted, we eventually got it all up, awning and all.

How exciting.

A customary cup of tea, a bit of unpacking and although we both wanted to just stay and enjoy our new home, alas I had to get to work. So a quick half hour in the van and we were off.

We got in about 12:30am. I'd had a couple of Westons at work and was well in the mood. Jodes opened a bottle of wine and we had a toast to our new home on wheels.

We eventually crashed out in our new bed, in silence, happy and excited!

Sunday, 8 March 2009

A cacophony of silence

The purpose of this blog is to try and document the experience of living in a caravan. When me and Jodes decided we would do this, i spent a bit of time googling to find other peoples experiences, and found that there weren't many other people who had put their stories online.

So, as well as to document my (our) experiences, hopefully, someone else thinking of doing the same thing will be able to use this blog.
We decided to move into a flat above a loud music venue, sharing with three lads, who all worked in the venue. We needed to save money to buy our van, and get used to living in a smaller space together. The three months living there is a story in itself. This is about the move from a loud venue, on a busy ring road, to a almost silent site surrounded by woodland.

So...Silence.

The first night we arrived (Friday March 6th) we were put on a holding pitch in our campervan. Our caravan pitch would be opened tomorrow and we would move there when our van arrived.

We did our business on the office and parked up the camper, and usual routines, cup of tea and a stretch of the legs. After a meal at the local, and a few shandies, we came back full of excitement for our new life, and desperate to get properly pitched up and settle in.

We had a nightcap and pondered our future, surrounded by nature and the sound of silence!

It was almost deafening, the complete lack of any noise. It allowed my mind to enter another place that wasn't influenced by other sounds. A strange place, and it took a bit of getting used to, but also a wonderful contemplative state, and one, I knew already I would really enjoy.

Through the night, the silence kept waking me. It seemed unnatural, yet so natural.

I enjoyed the silence until about 8am, when the warden showed some new arrivals onto the pitch next door. We started the day early, and went for a good stroll around this beautiful place.

So quiet, so peaceful, so exciting!