The house was sold. Decisions needed to be made. “OK. Let’s do it!” I called up the stairs. “Are you sure ?” he called back. “Are you really sure because I have my eye on a caravan?”

It was too late by the time I got to the landing. He had pushed the purchase button for a new caravan coming over from England. It was advertised as the last one in the shipment. It was in our price range and it was new. Luckily for my husband it also looked quite pretty.

Once that decision was made life roared on ahead, until we found ourselves waiting Picton side of the strait for our new abode to be towed off the ferry. It felt like an appending birth and truly we both seemed just as pleased to see this new caravan as much as we had one of our children. (A slight exaggeration if any of our lovely brood are reading this).

Anyway, without any fanfare the tractor guy unhooked the caravan and departed. No one was around so we supposed this was ours. We duly walked over and our new life began. Two and a half years later we are still loving what the ferry regurgitated and I am writing a bit about our travels and trials.