So this weekend I couldn’t head to Oulton Park for my usual Saturday of checking out racing drivers and watching various vehicles go round and round the track because I was busy being bored to death in motorhome hell.
I know some people might like the idea of looking at various different motorhomes, *ahem* sorry let me put that properly…. some people might like the idea of looking at every motorhome UNDER THE SUN for seven hours on a cold and rainy Saturday, but sadly I am not one of them.
Unfortunately for me, my Dad and his wife have suddenly hit their 50’s and decided that trekking around the world in a tin can is some kind of great idea and they were eager to share their delight with me over the weekend. Currently the owners of an Airstream, the pair of them are wanting to find a motorhome which is pretty much out of this world if they’re going to get rid of ‘their beauty’ of silver shininess. Hence why I saw about 1,000 on Saturday.
I’ve got to be honest, I did enjoy snooping around the huge American buses (although taking my shoes on and off was a bit of a nightmare), but after the 50th bog standard vehicle I was beginning to get a little bored. Obviously being me, it wasn’t long until something lightened the mood though, and unfortunately for me it was my hands and knees who bore the brunt of the days excitement.
After some old codger had barged her way into one of the various display models and started rambling on to her husband who was wedged between me and the kitchenette, I knew I had to get out of there before I battered her to death with my bare hands. In my haste though, I managed to completely miss the top step in the doorway and rather ungracefully slip-slided my way out of the doorway before crashing onto all fours, in the mud, in front of the only hot boy at the show (who I imagine wasn’t there due to his love for motor homing either.)
Why oh why could it only happen to me? I mean, am I just a magnet for making a complete fool of myself at every public function I attend? Personally I put it down to experience, and at least I’ve made my mind up which motorhome I’ll want to relax in when I find myself a racing driver husband.
This weekend it’s back to the grind with the FPA : Blast in the Park at Oulton. I’m in Pit Lane, who’s on deck?