All is peaceful but it wasn't so yesterday when we arrived. I'd decided to give the motorhome a good spring clean. It's difficult to do it at the storage ground as water isn't easily available. The process involves much mayhem before order is restored. I'd hauled just about everything out of cupboards and storage spaces to give everywhere a good clean. Stuff that I'd brought from home hadn't been put away and some of the string bags with clothing in had been tipped out to use for grocery shopping. The fruits of our visit to E Leclerc, the French equivalent of Sainsbury, were on the floor below the main table. I decided to have a cup of tea to make lighter of the work. It was then I discovered I had a water leak from the kitchen tap. It poured onto the floor, the temporary home to half of our possessions. As this point I started to behave like a cross two year old and had the monster of all paddies. Louis withdrew to a safe distance. It's made me realise just quite how sensitive I am to disruption in the environment. That Japanese woman and her tidying book has lowered my resistance.
Two hours on and order was restored to Marie Kondo perfection. The van is spick and span and I'd turned the water off. My own ability to attempt a repair seems unlikely. As an additional hiccup I've discovered my pump is leaking to and has caused a small area of the van to have a soggy bottom. Motorhomes will know the seriousness of this, far worse than a Mary Berry cake. But I'm pragmatic. The patch is small, away from where we walk about and Klaus is an old guy now. He's bound to have a few wrinkles.
So I've dumped the water and we're making do with the tap. We have full electricity, gas, a fridge and a working toilets. It's still luxurious compared to wilderness backpacking.