I was driving home late one Wednesday night a few weeks ago and remember thinking `That`s strange film crew caravans don’t usually park up on the cricket pitch`
The following day I drove by and remember thinking `That`s strange, film crew don’t usually play football on the cricket square perhaps they`re making a film about how not to impress your new neighbours`
I and many other children of the 1960`s have somewhat rose tinted memories of people who choose to spend time in caravans perhaps helped by memories of Enid Blyton`s Famous Five who often shared adventures with caravan dwellers on misty moors whilst sharing a delicious stew from a large pot on an open fire with fiddlers and dancers adding colour to the scene..
As a child my vocabulary was expanded as my Mum had the unerring knack of finding the only caravan travelling in the same direction as us on a narrow B road in the depths of The Highlands, and then following it for miles as a convoy of miserable holidaymakers tail gated us. As Mum would only ever overtake a fellow traveller if the road ahead was clear by at least half a mile I often wondered who these new found friends were as they flashed their lights, tooted and waved as they swept by us.
One year, much to my delight, we went on holiday to the west of Ireland and hired a small brightly coloured, wooden caravan that was pulled by a horse that broke wind every 50 yards. There was no need of a map as the horse had a built in sat-nav and simply refused any urgings to deviate from its chosen route.
With unerring accuracy our pilot took us round the side of lochs and up and down narrow roads on picturesque mountains.
We made lots of new friends that Summer as well