May 2014.

I've bought a campervan as a 60th birthday present to myself, made some curtains and a patchwork quilt, waved goodbye to my family, and set off. My aim is to explore the coastline of Britain, anti clockwise, starting in Kent. I have no idea what will happen.

Wednesday, 10 September 2014

Happy Camper

Anne Sykes is a friend from Hampshire who was brought up in Cheshire. She has happy childhood memories of Anglesey and Abersoch and is passionate about camping! She booked in early to join me for three days, and a little trip down memory lane.
Abersoch is historically where the great and the good of Cheshire and Yorkshire have come on holiday – there or Tenby. It's got wonderful beaches, sailing, and golf courses but we had no time for such things.
Roy & Judy's campsite
We camped at Llanaelhaearn near Trefor on the north side of the Lynn Peninsular, looking out to sea, with the end of the Snowdon range framing our view to the east, and Yr Eifl and the Tre'r Ceiri Hillfort to the west. The day after a bank holiday, we were the only guests.
The site, on a slope but with level pitches, is run by Roy and Judy who came here from Virginia Water 14 years ago. So far there's just one small shed, painted dark green, which opened up like a tardis; pink and immaculately clean inside with a loo and basin, and an information board detailing local attractions, etc. A shower next door to the shed will be ready for next year.
In the morning I asked where I might buy calor gas and check my tyres and Roy said Ifan Hughes, in the village, was the man to see. Ifan is the local mechanic, the milkman, the undertaker and delivers the papers. He also drives the village coach, and will pull stranded campers out of the mud!
Ifan at work
The forecourt of Ifan's garage (it's not a petrol garage, no calor either) was choked with cars and coaches, vans and trucks – some new arrivals were barely off the road, others looked more clapped-out and there for the long haul. Ifan is a lovely bobble-hatted, apple-cheeked man. I explained my problem (tyres) and he looked at me quizzically; with his strong Welsh accent and me with my la-di-dah English one I thought we might have a problem. But he smiled and got an extension for his tyre gauge. I explained that the front drivers' side valve was difficult – he deftly kicked the hub-cap off, and kicked it back on again. Then he told us where to buy calor gas in Caernarvon (we didn't understand, and got it somewhere else) and he refused any payment.

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