• About
    • Portrait of a gate (a simple story)

The woman on the Yellow Bicycle

~ The Art of enjoying life as I pedal my bike.

The woman on the Yellow Bicycle

Monthly Archives: March 2020

Wanted: Small caravan with room for a bicycle. (Part three).

Featured

Posted by stephpep56 in Uncategorized

≈ Leave a comment

Tags

airbnb, buyingacaravan, caravans, corona virus, DeWaard awnings, Eriba familia, eriba puck, hertz car hire, Robbie Burns, The Netherlands

20200228_075720

Decisions!

‘But mouse you are not alone

in proving foresight may be vain

the best laid schemes of mice and men go often askew

and leave us nothing but grief and pain for promised joy’

When Scottish poet, Robbie Burns turns up a mouse’s nest while ploughing a field (He was a farmers son after all) he wrote a poem to the mouse and thus makes famous, the line ‘the best laid schemes’.

That was back in 1785.

And ever since then, men and women’s best laid schemes still go askew.

But sometimes they go smoothly too.

27th feb 2020 08:30

The day I arrived in Amsterdam, the corona virus was far from my mind, instead I mulled over whether to take full cover on my car rental or chance the basic.

I chose the full.

I wanted no hiccups!

And as I joined the busy traffic out of Schiphol Airport, my shoulders relaxed and I smiled to myself.

So far nothing had gone askew.

I hadn’t missed my flight. The plane hadn’t crashed. I had remembered my drivers licence. It hadn’t been rejected.

On the contrary, holding it reverently between two beautifully embellished shellac nails, the receptionist at the Hertz car hire desk, tapped in my details in that now recognizable manner of one who has such things attached to their fingers. without once wrinkling her nose in distaste.

As she handed it carefully back to me, I reminded myself that I really must get more sticky tape to hold the folded pink paper document together.

My drivers licence is a bit of a curiosity.

The first time I showed it in public was many years ago on a family holiday in Portugal.

‘I’m putting you down as a named driver’ My Portuguese Son in law announced as we stood outside the car hire office in Porto airport surrounded by our baggage.

‘You might need to escape from us every now and again’.

I rummaged in my bag for the above mentioned document and gingerly handed it over.

He looked in disbelief between the much-mended-with-tape-piece-of-paper that was mine and the shiny plastic card that was his before trudging into the office without complaint.

But now, as the flat fields spread out on either side of the four lane motorway, I concentrated on where I was going, obeying the giant road signs.

Amsterdam to my left, Amstelveen to my right, On and on I went and then the four lanes changed into two.

Oh the pleasure of driving in a well behaved country!

No one hogged the outer lane. Drivers indicated and pulled in and out smoothly.

No one came up fast behind me with full lights on because I was overtaking too slowly for their liking.

It was so stress free that I was disappointed to reach my first port of call.

Sighing, I pulled into a parking space outside the caravan showroom in Lichtenvoord.

This was the first of three such places I had chosen to view and hopefully purchase the caravan of my choice from.

And, as I had planned to drive to the next showroom further north the following morning before finally heading even further north again to the kip caravan showrooms in Hoogeveen, I had chosen an airbnb equidistant to all places.

But things moved faster than I had anticipated.

Now I am not one of those people who hum and haw or do research or look at every nook and cranny before making a decision. I pride myself in being a ‘spontaneous’ buyer. My eye needs to be caught, my heart jolted, I need to get that ‘that’s it’ feeling (not a very reliable method when about to hand over a few thousand euro I hear you exclaim) and though the caravans here in Litchenvoord were excellent, none of them did that for me.

Or maybe it was just an excuse to drive again. Whatever the reason, I was on the road within the hour.

27th feb 2020 13;00 hrs

The flat dutch countryside has its beauty.

Clusters of farms here and there on the wide panorama. The odd windmill.

Wooden free standing gates at intervals indicate entry into the dyke enclosed fields.

Church spires marking out villages.

Small bicycled figures on the horizon lean into the wind. Women going shopping no doubt or bunches of children heading home from school.

Despite being a small country, the feeling of space is ever present, and coming from a place whose mountains constantly block my view, the openness here was a welcomed novelty.

By now I had reached my second destination in Dedemsvaart.

I wandered around another pristine showroom.

20200228_11270220200228_112009

A tiny eriba puck that would test small ‘liv-ers’ to the limit caught my eye and I was tempted.

20200228_11244420200228_11244820200228_112434

The pretty shaped teardrop T@G also caught my attention.

I was busy taken notes when the owner appeared bringing in yet another van.

Slightly bigger than the puck, the Eriba Familia measures 4 meters 83 cm in length and is just 2 meters wide.

I stop my note taking and walk  across to where he was unhitching the caravan.

‘Can I look inside?’

‘Its not cleaned yet, but sure, go ahead!

‘1996?’ I asked. I was beginning to be able to tell the age by the interior design.

‘1993’ he replied ‘It had its test in December ’19. I’ll have it ready later if you want to have a better look.

I checked the clock on the wall. I still had time to visit the kip caravan.

‘I’ll come back tomorrow I promised’

20200228_075720

27th feb 2020 16:00

A trip to the kip showroom in Hoogeveen would change the mind of even the most reluctant caravanner.

I was so excited by it I forgot to take a photo so bear with me while I try to describe what I saw.

For a start all the caravans are laid out in ‘camping mode’.

They snuggle between false trees and mounds of sand.

Artful piles of cut logs are arranged in natural heaps and there is a camp fire in front of each ‘site’.

And to make it even more appealing, each caravan has an awning attached.

Not the flimsy lightweight type that crackles and snaps all night keeping you awake. But the heavy De waard canvas one. The strong and silent type.

With an hour to closing I scoot around, peeking inside and out.

As I have mentioned in my previous post, the kip shelter is the smallest of this brand of caravan and the lightest.

Its simple interior appeals to me. The wide door at the back, means I can easily wheel my bikes on board.

There are three types of kip shelters.

The basic and The plus. (There is also an off road with a higher axle)

And here is where it becomes complicated.

For me, the basic is too basic. It doesn’t even have a front window. I know I would feel claustrophobic in it.

The plus on the other hand, has many features!

A ‘lift in and out kitchen’ for example. (Unhitch the kitchen unit, lift it outside, reattach it to a rim at the back of the caravan and you can now cook al fresco. Wonderful if you are in the south of France or Spain or anywhere where it is sunny and windless, but I’m not sure of its practicality in the wild and windy and often rainy west of Ireland)

There are no curtains in this caravan. Instead handy pull up blinds help make the interior appear roomier. The small reading lights can be moved as needed along a tracking system fixed to the ceiling.

There are ample sockets and if I remember correctly a USB port

The Plus also has underfloor heating.

Now all this sounds tempting but I remind myself that staying on fully equipped caravan sites is not my plan.

I need advice.

I step into a dark blue ‘Plus’ edition and pull out my phone.

Inside the theme continues in a soft charcoal. A color that implies contemporary sophistication.

It feels clinical and clean but try as I might I can’t imagine feeling cozy in it.

I ring my daughters.

‘Austere is the word that comes to mind’ I tell them.

‘Would Nordic be a better description’? One daughter asks

‘Yes Nordic describes it’ I agree, feeling I have been unfair to the caravan.

‘Sounds minimilistic?’ suggests the other ‘which might be a good thing, all that sand dragged in and out, would be easy to keep clean. But how does it actually feel?’

‘Hmmmmm’ I reply ‘Its as light as a feather, I can easily push it myself’

‘Light as a feather doesn’t sound good to me’ There’s a pause ‘Like, will it blow over in a storm?’

That is a good question. Storms are very much part of our camping/caravaning experiences.

‘Maybe Go away and sleep on it’ My daughters advise.

So I do

20200228_094356

Feb 27th 2020 20:00

My airbnb is perfect.

A shed (stuur) behind the old farm house has been converted into a self catering apartment complete with sitting room, kitchen, bedroom and bathroom.

I follow the owner around the path to its door.

It is dark and she has wellies on. I feel at home already.

‘I have to bring Nana the cow in to her stall’ She lifts up a wellied foot as way of explanation. ‘She is pregnant and prefers to stay out in the field but I’ll tempt her with something nice’

Nana moo’s a greeting in the dim light. I can just make out her round shape and huge horns before she plods obediently into the stable and the smell of fresh hay fills the air.

I fall into my comfortable bed exhausted.

That night I dream of falling asleep in a small caravan listening to the sound of the wild sea and the rain drumming on the roof. Its interior has dusky rose colored cushions and an old fashioned wooden interior.

Not for one minute, while I slumbered peacefully, did I imagine the nightmare that lay ahead.

20200228_082447-1

Nana’s meadow with the neighbor’s house in the back ground

 

 

 

 

 

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Facebook
  • WhatsApp

Like this:

Like Loading...

WANTED: Small caravan with room for a bicycle (Part 2)

Featured

Posted by stephpep56 in a story, Uncategorized

≈ Comments Off on WANTED: Small caravan with room for a bicycle (Part 2)

Tags

Amsterdam, bicycles, camping., Covid 19, dreams, eriba, families, Kip caravans, living in small spaces, porta potti, Small caravans, T@G, The Netherlands

20200228_175606-1

Don’t count your chickens!

When I began my search for a small caravan at the beginning of February it was with the vague plan of living in it.

I believed I was capable of overcoming my hoarding instinct and being comfortable in a small space.

As I searched, my dream grew, but I was yet unaware of the looming dark cloud that might endanger my plan…….The Covid 19 virus. 

20200228_112240

To buy a caravan with a limited budget means it will probably have to be, like myself, on the other side of twenty one.

So how do I ensure that it will not fall apart on the road or that the seller will not try to fool me by cunningly hiding leaks, damp, rust or maybe all three?

The answer is, I buy one from a country whose citizens take good care of their belongings and after been married to a dutch man for twenty years, I decide the Netherlands could well be that country.

I begin my search, spending my evenings scrolling through various websites.

Soon Speurders, Marketpltts and others automatically pop up on my screen and I peer longingly at photo’s of Eriba puck’s and pans, kip shelter’s and the tear drop shapes of the T@B.

There are lots to choose from, each different from the other except for one thing.

They are all very very tiny.

20200228_11270220200228_11243420200304_065348

Now, as mentioned above, I am a bit of a hoarder.

An important consideration in my plan to live in a very small space.

And I also buy things, not because I need them, but because they catch my eye. My apartment is filled to the brim.  Baskets for my thriving house plants, a pretty enamel container for my paintbrushes, books, rugs, oh and of course bicycles.

20200301_075539

I have inherited this hoarding gene from my parents.

Yes! We are ‘stuff’ gatherers.

Some stuff we collect is useful, some not so and some downright embarrassing.

March 1975.

It’s my first day of nurse training. No one knows me except for one girl who unfortunately (you will soon see why) lives on the road I grew up on.

As she didn’t attend the same school, I hoped I would escape her notice.

Here I was, starting my career with a bunch of strangers, so I had planned to shrug off any labels and start my new life with a fresh image.

The ‘new me’ would be glamorous and very conservative. (The exact opposite to the old me).

But no such luck.

‘Hi there. Aren’t you Gregory’s sister?’ The above mentioned girl approached me with a smile. 

I admitted I was.

‘He’s hilarious, always up to some mad antic’ She continued in a friendly manner ‘ Just the other day I saw him getting off the bus holding one of those plastic ‘porta potti’ thingy’s’

There was silence, a few of the ‘cooler’ girls gathered round.

I laughed (a loud false sounding laugh)

‘Surely not! Maybe it was some kind of box’

‘Nope’ She was adamant ‘It was a camping toilet and he had his arms wrapped tightly around it’.

‘Yuck ‘ One of the girls stared at me disdainfully.

Her friends giggled and wrinkled up their noses.

Red faced, I looked down at the floor.

The irony of their reaction was that first year nurse training, in those days, and bed pan washing went hand in hand.

Maybe they didn’t realize that yet, but they would soon find out.

However reassuring that thought, it was not much use to me now.

I watched them walk away as my new identity disappeared with them. 

‘I’ll never live it down’ I cried when I confronted my brother

But he just laughed.

‘I was at a car boot sale and I spotted it. It’s never been used. Mam was delighted with it. Come on! who cares what they think.’

I cared!  But I also had to admit it was a good buy. We had an old fashioned bucket affair.

‘You’re only mad because your camping days with us are over and you won’t get the benefit of it’ He teased.

It was true. Now that I had started my career those long summer holidays in the west of Ireland were over. I had to resign myself to a couple of weeks here and there at the hospitals discretion.

But returning to ‘Stuff’.

Yes, I have plenty of it

Sitting at my table, peering out in the winter gloom I note that on my balcony alone sits

  • three bicycles
  • four immense bamboos,
  • three over sized potted lavender plants
  • one large potted hydrangea
  • One maple tree, whose skeletal form stares at me accusingly (like a sheep who decides to lie down and die for reasons known only to itself, my Japanese maple has thrown in the towel. And even though I have nursed and cajoled it inside for long periods it soon became obvious that no amount of pampering was going to make it change it’s mind)

How will I fit all into my new tiny home?

But first things first!

I close the curtains and book a flight to Amsterdam.

20200229_120739

Coming up next: Brodje harrings, Airbnb’s and Amsterdam.

 

 

 

 

Share this:

  • Twitter
  • Pinterest
  • Facebook
  • WhatsApp

Like this:

Like Loading...
stephpep56

stephpep56

Writer, storyteller, Artist, photographer, mother and grandmother, with a passion for living in the moment, for nature and gardening and meditatively pedalling my yellow bicycle which helps inspire my stories and observations of life. And what better place to be from and to live and cycle in then Ireland. A country filled to the brim with songs and stories, small boreens, lakes, mountains and wild seas. In between all the above I just about manage to squeeze in my real job as a nurse in a busy Hospital.

Personal Links

  • The muddled hen.
  • The woman on the Yellow Bicycle

View Full Profile →

Enter your email address to follow this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 572 other followers

Recent Posts

  • Wanted: Small caravan with room for a bicycle (Rescuing Baba, the final leg)
  • Wanted small caravan with room for a bicycle.(What now Baba?)
  • Wanted: Small caravan with room for a bicycle (It’s too darn late.)
  • Wanted: Small caravan with room for a bicycle. (Part three).
  • WANTED: Small caravan with room for a bicycle (Part 2)

Archives

  • May 2020
  • April 2020
  • March 2020
  • February 2020
  • December 2019
  • November 2019
  • October 2019
  • August 2019
  • June 2019
  • May 2019
  • March 2019
  • February 2019
  • December 2018
  • November 2018
  • October 2018
  • September 2018
  • August 2018
  • July 2018
  • June 2018
  • April 2018
  • March 2018
  • February 2018
  • January 2018
  • December 2017
  • November 2017
  • October 2017
  • September 2017
  • August 2017
  • July 2017
  • June 2017
  • May 2017
  • March 2017
  • February 2017
  • November 2016
  • October 2016
  • September 2016
  • August 2016
  • July 2016
  • June 2016
  • April 2016
  • March 2016
  • February 2016
  • January 2016
  • December 2015
  • November 2015
  • October 2015
  • September 2015
  • August 2015
  • July 2015
  • June 2015
  • May 2015
  • April 2015
  • March 2015
  • February 2015
  • January 2015
  • December 2014
  • November 2014
  • October 2014
  • September 2014
  • August 2014
  • July 2014
  • June 2014
  • May 2014
  • April 2014
  • March 2014
  • February 2014
  • January 2014
taking the long way home 2014-05-14 042
mass paths 042
foraging 2064
may day 050
foraging 1964
2010_0106inisbofin20100030
in search of smock alley 026A
daffodil time 003
1044
IMG_20130714_171058
dublin oct 2013 040
taking the long way home 2014-05-14 033
daffodil time 027
cropped-summer-2013-0211.jpg
DSCF6919
DSCF5963
trip to the garden center 072
2010_0106inisbofin20100001
20131015_114719
a gift of a day 2014-07-27 018
060
summer 2013 205
tree's and such 095
tree's and such 126
DSCF6005

Pages

  • About
    • Portrait of a gate (a simple story)

Tags

Achill artists barefoot beaches bicycle bicycles bicycling boats brittany campers camping. cancer caravans childhood childhood memories children churches coffee connemara cottage cottages cycling daughters Divorce dogs dreams Dublin faeries families family fishing flowers food france friends gardening goats grandchildren hens holy wells Ile de Batz Interferon Ireland Islands lakes love marriage meditation melanoma. memories mountains painting parents philosophy pumpkins sea stones stories summer the burren the sea the west of ireland The wild atlantic way theyellowbicycle the yellow bicycle the yellowbicycle the yellow bike trains vegetables walking west of Ireland wild camping wildcamping wine writing

Blogs I Follow

copyright

Stephanie Peppard an and Thewomanontheyellowbicycle and the inquisitive hen 2014/2015.
This Written material, drawings, photographs and paintings are all my own original work. I would kindly ask that you do not use any of the above without my permission. Excerpts and links may be used provided that full and clear credit is given to Stephanie peppard and thewomanontheyellowbicycle and the inquisitive hen with appropriate and specific direction to the original content. thanks Steph.

Blogs I Follow

  • nickreeves
  • Drawn In
  • The Sketchbook
  • Crank and Cog
  • Yvonnecullen's Blog
  • a french garden
  • tinlizzieridesagain
  • Donna Cooney
  • MERRY HAPPY
  • Louisa May Alcott is My Passion
  • acoffeestainedlife.wordpress.com/
  • wildsherkin
  • The clueless photographer
  • Frog Pond Farm
  • Site Title
  • Persevere
  • ALYAZYA
  • Singersong Blog
  • An Oldie Outdoors
  • Dartmoor Wild Camper

Blog at WordPress.com.

nickreeves

≈ fictionalpaper / piccoloscissors / creativeglue ≈

Drawn In

Art • Nature • Exploration

The Sketchbook

MOSTLY MONTREAL, MOST OF THE TIME

Crank and Cog

Wanderers on two wheels!

Yvonnecullen's Blog

Just another WordPress.com site

a french garden

Reflections on nature in a garden in France

tinlizzieridesagain

Adventures in Bikeable Fashion

Donna Cooney

Beauty is a form of Genius

MERRY HAPPY

Louisa May Alcott is My Passion

Begun in 2010, this blog offers analysis and reflection by Susan Bailey on the life, works and legacy of Louisa May Alcott and her family. Susan is an active member and supporter of the Louisa May Alcott Society, the Fruitlands Museum and Louisa May Alcott's Orchard House.

acoffeestainedlife.wordpress.com/

From a less than perfect life.. but I keep trying.

wildsherkin

Once upon an island...the musings and makings of a part-time islander

The clueless photographer

Pietro Mascolo - IZ4VVE

Frog Pond Farm

Julie's garden ramblings ...

Site Title

Persevere

By Dan Sims

ALYAZYA

A little something for you.

Singersong Blog

An Aussie in County Clare

An Oldie Outdoors

Trail Blogs : Gear : Outdoor Life

Dartmoor Wild Camper

My wild camping adventures on Dartmoor.

Alex Awakens

The musings of an awakening soul

Fernwood Nursery & Gardens

Maine's Shadiest Nursery

avikingjourney

A nordic journey from the past to the present with Denmark's largest Viking war ship, the Sea Stallion.

JustUs Society

After all, who else is there... well except for aliens

aoifewww's Blog

This WordPress.com site is the bee's knees

idleramblings

Poems, ditties, lines, words, wanderings, ramblings, thoughts, memories, prompts,

140 characters is usually enough

naturekids

A place for kids to learn about the natural world

WordPress.com

WordPress.com is the best place for your personal blog or business site.

The woman on the Yellow Bicycle

The Art of enjoying life as I pedal my bike.

Off The Beaten Path

Random Peckings and Droppings of a Free-Range Chicken Mind.

The Campervan Gang

A Family's Journey To Become Campervan Heroes

ronovanwrites

Author, Poet, Blogger, Father, Reader And More

Murtagh's Meadow

Ramblings of an Irish ecologist and gardener

HAPPY DAYS

Steps To Happiness.

Beside the Hedgerow

About Bette

Myths and Memoirs

owen.swain.artist/blog

spaceship china

~ a blog that travels through time and space through the complex narrative we call “China” ~

ACORN PONDS GLAMPING SITE : Shropshire

Glamping at its best!! private, own kitchen, own shower and loo, peaceful, wildlife, no kids!!

nickreeves

≈ fictionalpaper / piccoloscissors / creativeglue ≈

Drawn In

Art • Nature • Exploration

The Sketchbook

MOSTLY MONTREAL, MOST OF THE TIME

Crank and Cog

Wanderers on two wheels!

Yvonnecullen's Blog

Just another WordPress.com site

a french garden

Reflections on nature in a garden in France

tinlizzieridesagain

Adventures in Bikeable Fashion

Donna Cooney

Beauty is a form of Genius

MERRY HAPPY

Louisa May Alcott is My Passion

Begun in 2010, this blog offers analysis and reflection by Susan Bailey on the life, works and legacy of Louisa May Alcott and her family. Susan is an active member and supporter of the Louisa May Alcott Society, the Fruitlands Museum and Louisa May Alcott's Orchard House.

acoffeestainedlife.wordpress.com/

From a less than perfect life.. but I keep trying.

wildsherkin

Once upon an island...the musings and makings of a part-time islander

The clueless photographer

Pietro Mascolo - IZ4VVE

Frog Pond Farm

Julie's garden ramblings ...

Site Title

Persevere

By Dan Sims

ALYAZYA

A little something for you.

Singersong Blog

An Aussie in County Clare

An Oldie Outdoors

Trail Blogs : Gear : Outdoor Life

Dartmoor Wild Camper

My wild camping adventures on Dartmoor.

Cancel
%d bloggers like this: