MMM’s investigator discovers sometimes motorhoming isn’t quite the holiday you may think
For quite a while we have been looking for a fresh adventure wagon but haven’t quite dropped upon the right vehicle. A couple of years ago, whilst we were searching, we found one we thought might be the ideal replacement at one of those motorhome shows run by Warners, the publisher of MMM.
However, it required a few modifications to make it comply with our exacting requirements. It had done very little mileage, and the converter reckoned it could do the ‘mods’, but needed time to work out the costs. So, we wandered off for lunch.
An hour later, on our return, keen as mustard to do the deal, the ’van had a sold sign on it. Not to u,s though, but some other devious interloper who had paid cash and bought the thing.
We were a little disappointed (think blue air), but the converter was blameless, as we hadn’t formally agreed anything, and couldn’t until we knew the extra costs involved in the modifications. There’s a lesson to be learned here somewhere, but I just can’t quite work out what it is.
A few weeks later, still looking, I spotted a Rapido camper, which hadn’t been used for a couple of years. The mileage was very low but, in the flesh, it proved to be too big for our needs. During the course of the usual conversations, the owner mentioned that they had no intention of replacing it, so I asked them the obvious question.
That of why were they giving up the fantastic freedom of the great journey. All that spontaneous travel, pushing on beyond the next horizon into a new world every day, and the joy of boundless exploration. How could anyone give this up? It would have to be age, infirmity, or complete insanity, would it not? The answer wasn’t quite what I expected.
They no longer needed it. Not no longer wanted it, couldn’t cope, won the lottery, or anything else. They no longer needed it.
I was imagining all sorts of explanations. The usual stuff. Going cruising, buying a caravan, a static even, near Skegness, or a flat in Benidorm.
None of these actions are responsible, permissible or forgivable really and, if one of these had cropped up, they were obviously losing their marbles. They were old, but not too old, and sprightly enough, so I didn’t think that age or infirmity fitted, either.
“Why on earth would you need to get rid of it and not replace it?” says I, “Think of all those fantastic places you’ve been
