I hit the open road

As an aspiring writer, every year I try to take on the momentous task that is NaNoWriMo. If you are unfamiliar with this phenomenon, it is an annual slog by writers across the globe to write a whopping 50,000 words in just one month. Twice I had previously taken on this challenge, and twice I had failed, so this year I was determined to do it.

Writing 50,000 words, as I’m sure you can imagine, takes a lot of effort and mental stimulation, but more than that the main issue with NaNoWriMo is simply that it takes up so much flipping time. With that in mind, the year I resolved to put away some time at the end of the month to really hit the deadline…and then I did an incredibly stupid thing. I rented a camper van, and I hit the open road.

You might wonder, as my friends certainly did, how it was I made that spectacular leap from making time for writing to setting off on my own for the Brecon Beacons in a Japanese camper van named Yuki. My friends laughed, a lot. In fact I think I was probably as surprised as they were, but being devoid of car and keen to get somewhere countrysidey and quiet, it seemed like the most convenient option. When I was sat in front of my laptop in my comfy room in October, searching options online, it certainly did seem like the most sensible route, when I was driving halfway to Hereford in the dark with no navigator, it did not.

I rented my beautiful Yuki from Quirky campers (who, if you’re interested, are fantastic). I picked her up on the other side of Bristol, threw my unnecessarily large suitcase in the back and jumped behind the wheel. Before I really knew what was happening I was on the open road, bombing down the M4 for Wales.

Yuki is an automatic, and pretty easy to drive, and I’d had a comprehensive briefing from David when I picked her up, so we made our way to Wales without incident. I was lulled quickly into a very false sense of security. The real problems only started to kick in when I got lost. Driving in the dark, in a camper van you aren’t familiar with, with no navigator is not the easiest thing I have ever done and I must confess there was a point where I wondered what the hell I was doing. I missed the road coming out of Abergavenny completely and instead of heading across the Beacons for Hay, I found myself speeding along to Hereford.

A stressful hour or so later I finally found myself in Hay, and made my way to Ashbrook campsite (also lovely people, although they have a slightly scary dog). Parked up and plugged in I set about following the instructions to set Yuki up into camper mode. I had a few problems getting her roof up (I’d forgotten to put the handbrake on and she was cross with me) but once I was all unpacked and sorted I felt like a proper camper.

I got the bed unfolded, cooked up some pasta and discovered with joy that I could lie in bed watching a film, cook dinner and do the washing up all pretty much at the same time. Toasty and warm with the kettle on and the neon lights dimed, I truly felt like I might be able to live in Yuki forever.

There really is nothing reminiscent of camping about staying in a camper van like this. I had plates and cups, I had a selection of teas, and more importantly that that, I HAD WINE GLASSES, all carefully provided by the owners.

The next day, after a restful night’s sleep but a long and ferocious fight with the foldaway bed, I set off across the fields for Hay-on-Wye. I chose Hay firstly because I’ve been desperate to go since I heard about it, and secondly because I thought it sounded like a particularly suitable place to work on being a writer. I was giddy by the time I got to the town and started spotting all the bookshops.

Hay (twinned with Timbuktu, who knew) boasts over 40 bookshops, and is considered to be something of a Mecca for book lovers everywhere. I steadily and methodically made my way around as many of the shops as possible, looping the small town several times to make sure I hadn’t missed anything good, and diligently crossing the ones I had visited off my map.

Hay is a really lovely little town in itself, and when I went in late November, it was hosting a small food festival and various choirs were performing in the small town square, in front of the ruined castle.

Personally, I think the best bookshop finds there are the castle’s ‘honesty bookshop’ (where I picked up a battered old Poirot novel), Addyman books and, of course, Murder and Mayhem.

Addyman is a small shop on the corner of one of the streets. Well, it looks small from the outside at least. Once you’re inside you get lost in a labyrinth of rooms made by bookcase, which snake up the two floors of this house. Wonky corridors are lined with books of every kind, and I spent a good half hour sat in a wing-backed chair reading collectible books about Jane Austen in a front room with a huge fur rug.

Murder and Mayhem is more of a gimmicky shop, but it is probably one of the most entertaining in Hay. Covered in murder mystery paraphernalia it is crammed floor to ceiling with crime novels, and I picked up a particularly hilarious book about a Spanish musketeer-style character named Diego Alatrise who engages in a cunning plot to kill the Duke of Buckingham. It is all rapiers at dawn and moustache twirling and is utterly ridiculous.

Trotting home with my purchases I had just enough time to get my washing up done before the sun went down (the only downside of my having decided to travel at winter being the shortness of the days). One small issue over the three nights I lived in Yuki was that I was somewhat limited in what I could cook. She has two hobs, but I was loathe to fry up anything too pungent for fear of stinking out the whole place, it not really being the time of year where I wanted to leave windows open for a long period of time. As such, my diet while travelling consisted almost solely of pasta and pesto, and whatever you do be sure not to try and eat red pesto under blue neon lights, it looks absolutely revolting.

After my stay in Hay I set off back to England, bypassing Bristol and heading for Cheddar. It was a horrible, foggy day but Yuki and I made great time and reached Cheddar in the early afternoon. We parked up at Petruth Paddocks and I shouldered my backpack and made straight for the footpath to see Cheddar before it got dark.

After milling around the town for a bit I realised I was pretty much in the wrong place and walked towards the gorge. There the tourist shops and cafes follow the road as it climbs up towards the gorge, before snaking off between the rocky crags. I walked up as far as I could, admiring the towering walls of the gorge rising above me, before wandering back to the shops and availing myself of some cheese.

I was going to head back to camp, but made the snap decision to pay to climb to the observation tower on top of the gorge, and I’m glad I did. the view from the top was incredible, and I walked along a little way to look down into the gorge.

Back at the campsite Yuki and I set up for our final evening together and watched the sun go down.

Now I know what you’re thinking, I thought I was meant to be writing? Well yes, you’re correct, I was supposed to be writing, but to be perfectly honest I was having so much fun I got totally distracted and hardly did any. BUT, drum roll please, you will be pleased to hear that I did finish NaNoWriMo this year, and even managed to upload my final word count for verification using my phone as a router from a camper van in the middle of a field (internet connection is not something I thought about in advance).

I was pretty proud of my efforts, even if I didn’t spend as much time on it as I had intended!

Yuki and I returned to Bristol almost without incident (I managed to embarrass myself in the last few minutes of our time together by getting the petrol nozzle stuck in her tank), and I felt bereft when I took her back to Quirky Campers in Easton. I felt that we had bonded on the road, and she was very patient and forgiving with me.

What’s best about campervanning I think is the freedom you have to go wherever you want. There were certainly a few moments where I worried for my safety and my sanity (for a couple of days at least my life bore a frightening resembles to the film About Schmidt!) but mostly I had a fantastic, restful, liberating trip.

I’ll definitely be doing something similar again, but I might take a sat-nav next time.