After a very tricky bit of manoeuvring I managed to park up in a council car park and while I wasn't taking up more than one space I was overhanging a bit. The way they are about parking these days I was a bit worried about getting a parking fine on a technical fine point, simply because they like to make money out of parking and fining people whenever they can these days. Remember, when Hospital parking used to be free?
So, off we set and the minute we reached the main street, it started to rain. Mike nipped back and fetched an umbrella. The rain then became a persistent heavy drizzle, the dog was getting soaked and looked really miserable and it wasn't enjoyable at all. Mike peered in through pub windows to see that his beloved Watford were losing One- Nil and I decided I'd had enough and we were going back to the MotorHome and leaving Marlborough, which I wasn't liking very much. Mike said I was in good company as John Betjeman went to school there and he didn't like it either.
Just before we reached the car park, the rain changed from heavy drizzle to someone putting a fire hose on us. Of course the minute we got into the MotorHome, someone turned the tap off and clear blue sky was above!
Having vacated the car park, without incident and sighs of relief all round, we went off to find somewhere more hospitable.
A short time later we stopped at filling station, as their diesel was a good price and I was waiting to pull into a pump that was being used. There was a car towing a large caravan at the outer bank of pumps, which was just pulling out.
Now driving a large MotorHome can have its difficulties but the thought of towing a caravan terrifies me because the caravan doesn't follow the car exactly and reversing looks to be hellish. The thought of buying a caravan very briefly crossed our minds and was instantly dismissed, despite the obvious advantage of having a car for getting about in. This caravan was just about to prove I was right.
The driver pulled out too sharply, away from the pumps. The caravan then mounted the pumps and was firmly wedged on them. It took a good ten minutes for several people to get the thing off and of course no fuel was served until safety checks had been carried out. Apart from damaging the caravan, four pumps had been put out of action. I need no further proof that a caravan is not for me.
I decided I didn't want to do towns any more that day, can't even remember where Mike was taking us but I saw a sign to The Lavingtons and said, "This is what I want to do. Get off the main roads!". So off I went, without waiting for permission, taking a swift turn left onto a B road.
Before we reached the Lavingtons, we came into a village called Urchfont, which was just beautiful, complete with village shop, post office and pub. If it had still had the old Butcher's Shop (now a house) it would have been perfect but sure enough, Market Lavington still had a traditional butcher and the best of all with these small villages, parking on street is possible and hassle free. So dinner was sorted and we had a lovely walk around peaceful village streets.
Below, the only photo I took in Marlborough.
Urchfont village pond
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