It's not supposed to do this of course. When you imagine a holiday the sun shines all the time - unless you go to the Lake District, Cornwall or Wales that is. You're a glutton for punishment if you do and only have yourself to blame.
I viewed the day as a try out of what it would be like holed up in a motorhome with a prepubescent son if I was living in it as my main home. Lou is changing after all. I seems that I am even more embarrassing than on the last holiday and under no circumstances can I dance anywhere near him. There also seems to be some love feud thing going on between him and a young geezer called Archie over a ten year old blonde!
It's a worst case scenario as we will have the car at home to escape to some warm pub or coffee shop haven - if it's okay to be seen with me of course. But what do you know? The experiment worked really rather well indeed. Lou read his latest Rick Riordan book voraciously and gamed a bit on his phone. No doubt my scant knowledge of Greek mythology will be tested sometime soon. I read, cut lino to set the limits of what crafts are possible in the van, blogged ahead and schemed and dreamed about the new life I'm planning for us. We marked our territory at different ends of the van, no urine involved I hasten to add. And there's enough space for us to harbour no homicidal thoughts towards each other Hurrah! Something tells me this could be a goer!