This has nothing at all to do with the effects of a hot curry. It refers instead to that frequent phenomenon experienced by the European traveller, a strong wind which blows the trees around, throws dirt into your eyes, continually kills your TV reception by blowing over your satellite dish, but which intriguingly is not at all cold, indeed actually feels warm on your face.

We have lived with this Mistral-esque breeze all day today, hearing olives fall onto the roof of our caravan and finding a carpet of chestnuts (the edible ones) greeting us when we would go outside. And we have experienced this wind alone. Clearly the merry band of campervan owners who populated this site upon our arrival on Mary’s birthday all have jobs to go to on Monday because by noon today they had up sticks and scarpered! On a tour like ours it is easy to forget that most campsites get their clientele at the weekends, folk escaping the humdrum drag of weekly work in favour of a couple of nights parked up somewhere nice in the country.

But not George and Mary of course. No, they have eschewed normality for a devil-may-care adventure full of what nexts? So we find ourselves the sole occupants of a terrace designed for about 12 caravans. This can leave you feeling somewhat isolated especially after dark but it does have its advantages. For a start we can make a noise (music or TV I mean) without fear of complaint –the rules are pretty strict you know, no noise between 23.00 and 08.00 nor between 12.00 and 14.00 – and we can sit where we like or use any of the shared facilities.

Under these circumstances we decided to chuck the rule book in the bin and give the old caravan a bit of a wash and polish. It badly needed one, especially the roof which I had spotted from the bedroom at Jud and Marc’s. Now, it is strictly forbidden to wash caravans or any other vehicles whilst on site but we decided that, as we were pretty much out of view of the entire campsite, we would go ahead and quickly wash the Magic Caravan with the Magic Sponges and the Magic Water. What a good job we made of it with laboured divided equally, me on the step on top of the table stretching to scrub as much of the roof as I could reach and Mary washing down the sides as far as she could reach. We wiped it all clean with kitchen roll and I swear the caravan winked at me when we stood back to admire our work. It was gleaming, at least the bits anyone can see, although a passing seagull might be less than forgiving were it to look down on the bit of the roof I couldn’t reach. Let’s hope it rains heavily very soon!

Tired out by all that stretching and scrubbing and drying and polishing and climbing up onto the table and jumping back down, I suggested we have tea in the site restaurant, an offer Mary accepted immediately, so up we went after a Skype or two and had another excellent meal, spaghetti carbonara for me and scaloppini Milanese with grilled vegetables for Lady Burton. Yummy!

The rest of the evening was devoted to Kindle and Mah-jong on the laptop. I’m beginning to quite like this game and it exercises the brain just grand.

Don’t like losing though!

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