…. and finally the second outing. She’s now known as Willma, as a feminine name seems better. I did toy with Wile.E.Coyote, my all time cartoon hero, but the Flintstone domestic diva, albeit with an extra L, seems to be where it’s settling.

After the excitement of Christmas, time has been weighing heavy. I’ve already had to stir myself and take a visit to Tate Modern for stimulus. This week, being aware that the weather was dry, if cold, I booked three nights with the Camping Club. Salisbury is two hours drive away, and with my veteran card, only £15 a night this time of year. So off I trot, to see the cathedral and its magnificent spire, much loved by KGB assassins.

It’s a place I’ve always found breathtakingly beautiful; today the chairs had been removed for filming, so the nave was laid bare in all its glory.

Since my last outing, in similar temperatures, I’ve rationalised the bedding. I’ve invested in a memory foam topper; changed sleeping bag for a single, and acquired an electric heated throw. So now, with the oil-filled electric radiator, and the diesel space heater, I think I’ve got it covered. To be honest, the radiator is a bit redundant, so will probably get relegated to the shed. The domestic interior is now feeling more homely, with two cheap carpet runners on the floor, and new pots and pans that don’t sound like a brass band in a car smash while I’m driving. Still to sort is the clothes storage; I’m working on it!

Tomorrow I’m walking up the hill to Old Sarum, where the Norman town used to be, and where the Romans, and before them the Durotriges (maybe Belgae?) had built their fortifications.

The next planned trip is to the Northwest for Easter, then it will soon be time for the epic Odyssey. I’m starting to lay plans already:

• Week1 Normandy, Brittany and the West Coast
• Week 2 Basque Country and the Picos
• Week 3 (depending on weather) French Med
• Week 4 family week in Perigord
• Week 5 meandering back.

UPDATE

So spent much of the day chatting to my neighbours Mick and Jeanette, who are full-timing in their motorhome. Brexit, of course, has made this lifestyle much more difficult: third nations can only spend 90 days in 180 in the Schengen area.
We took a walk up Old Sarum, and around the old castle site, and stopped into the nearby Harvester for a coffee, and to shelter from the rain. In the evening, we went to Salisbury Rugby Club next door for their weekly charity quiz. We were, of course, the “Happy Campers”.

We managed to salvage the reputation of the Camping and Caravanning Club, by coming second. This was thanks to a fairly arcane handicapping system, which still didn’t managed to stop their star table from coming away with the prize. This was followed by a meat raffle, beloved of Henning Wehn, in his reflection on English pubs and culture.

What I didn’t realise was that the Club had a public license, and welcomed campers, and anyone else, most evenings.

As I commented on Facebook, Willma is the little red one among all the white boxes.