It’s been a while since I got back from my autumn travels: time to reflect on the last year, of travel, blogging, and reflection. …. as Autumn leaves start to fall. When I started this journal, I set out, or at least discovered, three purposes: to describe where I’d been and the people I’d met; to let people know about my experience of campervanning; and to reflect on the loss of a loved one, partly as a way of revealing my emotions to myself, and partly in the hope that it might help others experiencing bereavement. Inevitably there has been overlap.

Looking back over the posts, I’m quite pleased with the outcome of the first aim. There’s lots I’d forgotten already; the penalty of ageing I suppose. Anyone following this may have had to suffer my rather eclectic set of interests, obsessions, and observations: wildflowers, birds, brickwork. … Apparently our Jennie spluttered at the last “He’s talking about (expletive deleted) brickwork now!”; but then, she likes the tales of people. By contrast, Matthew says he has a fantasy of campsites emptying after I’d got into conversation with people. A few folk did disappear quickly, but not too often that I’m aware of, or that I can claim credit for.

Given the title, Willma’s Travels, I’m not sure I said enough about the practicalities of ‘vanning. I know a lot more now than I did when I bought Willma last year, though I’m not sure I’ve totally mastered the art just yet. We’ve just tipped 7000 miles; my guess for the insurers was a thousand over that, so probably about right. Eating I’m realising has become an issue; whether through the diabetes, or through poor diet, I’ve managed to lose a fair bit of weight this year, probably no bad thing; but to the point where I don’t want to go any lower; BMI is comfortably within range now. Cooking in the van has been more about reheating things; and I haven’t dined out as much as I might. something to work on for the future. I was glad to get home, to make chilli and curry, and bake a loaf.

The bereavement stuff has been tricky; a couple of posts were very introspective, and family reactions reminded me that others I loved were carrying their own burdens of grief. So I scaled back quite a bit, while not writing Rosie out of the story completely. Maybe if this were to go to print publication, I might add a chapter or two. Certainly, self-knowledge has developed, of my own peculiarities past and present; and of strategies for developing what I now think of as my third life-period. And as time passes, the temporal distance does help, as does the travel, the geographical distance. thinking of next spring, maybe Provence: both the Rhone valley, and the gorges of the Provençal Alps. The first has always been a Happy Place, while the second has more vultures, plus eagles and other fauna. Maybe even the Côte d’Azur for a few days, though I have an antipathy to ostentatious displays of wealth. One thing I have learned though, is never to prejudge. We will see.