So far there has only been one time I have felt genuinely frightened while living in the caravan. We’re all aware that the world has been riddled by natural disasters recently. I am not going to compare our British Storms with any of the horrendous natural disasters that the world has been cursed with. However, the storm that engulfed the evening on the 19th October shook me and the caravan to the core.
Driving back from work during early evening, the rain began to slice through the sky. The rain was grey, the sky was grey and the road was grey. Lights of the cars in front only just pierced through the blanket of grey spray. Regardless of the warning signs, when I got home I took the dogs out! I should have paid more attention to Chip’s (my Mum’s dog) behaviour when he refused to come out with the rest of us! We returned from the walk satisfied but soaked. Then the wind started.
We’ve had windy spells in the caravan before and have been fine. But this time the direction was different. The wind was rushing through the orchard, and picking up speed as it hit the caravan side on. My husband has been staying away during the week in order to save fuel costs (see blog Let’s get political). This was one of those evenings. I was alone. Even the main house was empty. As the night got darker, the wind got stronger. The central supporting pole of the awning kept being blown off. I tried again and again to secure it, but by the fifth attempt I got a face full of soggy awning and a pole landing on my head. The wind was so strong that it ripped all the pegs out that secured the front of the awning. The ground was sodden and the pegs were slicing out of the ground, like a spoon through custard. I began to panic. The pole would not stay up and the wind was tearing through the awning, bringing rain and terror with it. The pressure on the awning was like a balloon ready to burst. I phoned everyone for advice, but all the phone lines went dead. It was like the start of a horror movie.
I quickly realised that I was the only person that was going to be able to solve this problem, or Remy and I would be flying away like Dorothy and Toto! I formed a plan and prepared myself. Rain coat on, torch on, crocs (that were already filled with water) on, and an empty LUSH pot. I used the tub as a hand shield and turned my fist into a hammer. I punched the pegs back into the ground as hard as I could and reattached the awning tightly. They squelched deep, deep, deep into the mud. Remy observed me in fear. His concerned eyes didn’t bring me confidence, but his presence by my side did. “We’ll be ok Remmers!”, I said, trying to convince him and myself! Once all the pegs were back in the ground, I zipped all the zips to the full, making sure I could limit the amount of wind that got into the awning. I was beginning to feel a little calmer. I put the pole back in it’s place, extended it, and put a towel underneath it to stop it from slipping. It was the best I could do. Hopefully it would be enough.
I went back inside and attempted to relax. The pole did not fall again, but the caravan was shaking, like a mouse in the shadow of an elephant. The awning wasn’t buckling under the pressure, but every time the caravan shook I had to reconvince myself that everything was going to be fine. I eventually tried to sleep and attempted to find comfort in the company of the wind.
It was about midnight when I was blinded by a light engulfing the whole of the caravan. “Please, not lightening too,” I thought to myself. My nerves couldn’t take much more. Another flash. I sat bolt upright. But the flash wasn’t followed by a rumble, it was followed by voices. “Oh my god, it’s the part of the film when the zombies come out of the mud and eat me!” I peered through the curtain and was not met with the blood thirsty eyes of zombies, but the caring faces of my Mum and her partner rummaging around in the wind and rain. “Mum, what are you doing?”. The wind was still howling and the rain was becoming apocalypse like! “Where’s the wind strap?” She replied. I knew exactly what she was talking about and got prepared to enter the storm again. Rain coat on, torch on and flooded crocs on! I grabbed the wind strap and the three of us got to work. We fought against the storm and got the wind strap onto the awning. I couldn’t have thanked them enough. “You can come and sleep in the house if you want?” My Mum offered. The easy option would have been yes. Yes please give me a safe cosy bed to hunker down in. But I was a Warrior Bear and I had gotten this far! I could sleep alone in a shaking caravan! I could do anything! So we exchanged a quick hug (incase I never saw them again!) and said goodnight. Inside the caravan everything felt calmer, even if it that was only in my head! I decided to do some reading and started Levison Wood’s; Walking the Nile. That put things into perspective!
I eventually got some sleep. However I awoke to the news that the next storm was going to be even worse. Maybe I could get Levison to come and stay!
Home not a Holiday 