West Yorkshire 14-16 Jan 12

Once again we experienced that feeling of apprehension and knowing that we are venturing into the unknown when you turn right onto the A1 and see the sign "The North"! Despite the remarkably mild weather, we knew that heading for the tundra of Yorkshire would test Tom's limits, so we equipped for Arctic survival for this trip. How right we were to do so.


The journey up was great on a sunny, bright day and we stopped at Brownhills in Newark to see if they had a more suitable bracket for the new TV. Whilst there, we had a quick look around a Startrail that is a year older than Tom and was priced at more than we paid. The styling has definitely changed for the better and we went away quite pleased that the value on the bus appears to be retained. Debs was quite taken with a massive Swift Kontiki, but it was nice to get back in our home and continue the journey.

Brrrr!

At the small campsite on the grounds of the Halifax Steam Brewery and Cock of the North pub we found only one other nutter on the small site. The owner emerged from his flat, we gave him £20 and we attempted to fill with water, only to find the hoses were frozen. He took us around the front of the building (reversing skills were needed here) and filled us in about 30 seconds from what looked like a high pressure fire hose. "Aye, it's reet grand pressure is that" said he, as he fought to control the writhing hose.

Brrrrrr  again!

Setting up on the "hardstanding pitch" (two rows of old paving slabs) we turned on the heating and had lunch, followed by a quick couple of pints in the Cock of the North. Its quite nice having a pub in one's garden. Trouble was it was chuffing freezng in the pub so we tootled back to the bus to thaw out and then headed into Hipperholme to get some groceries. Later, Jane, Tavis and William turned up to take us out for a curry in Bradford. It's really nice to see these dear old friends again and to sample the delights of what must be the best curry to be had anywhere in the UK. Delicious (but I bet both we and the bus stank the following day).


After yet another fantastic night's sleep (despite it being -50c outside) I awoke relatively late, wrote this and then headed into t'town to get t'paper. Why is it that I sleep better in a small, enclosed, funny shaped bed in a rocking tin box than I do in a mega king size hyper expensive bed at home? I am obviously half-hamster.

 However........the waste and fresh emptying taps had frozen overnight and the water in the fresh feed pipe somewhere between the floors of the bus had obviously suffered from the effects of this thick, freezing Yorkshire water and the pump was reluctant to let water through. The thought of going to a party sans douche was too terrible to contemplate, so we did think about donning the dressing gowns, slippers and shower caps and walking along the road to bang on Sarah and George's house to beg use of their facilities. Luckily, as I was discussing the issues of thick water with the chap next door (his had frozen too), Tom managed to overcome the combined attempts by the Yorkshire Water Board and the elements here in the Arctic circle and starting pumping water again. We didn't have to go to the ball reeking of Chicken Hyderabadi and bacon rolls!

In a snub to the attempts by all things York-ese to nadger our morning, we breakfasted on some lovely Lancashire muffins filled with fine Somerset bacon.

A quick read of the Sunday Times (yet another great win by our brave Harlequins boys over Gloucester in the Heineken cup), we changed and took a long walk (about 30m) to the pub for a swifty before George came to collect us to go to the party. The beer, again, was delicious, but why do they insist on having half a yard of bath suds floating on top?

The party to celebrate Peach and Denis' 50th wedding anniversary was superb. Jane and Sarah had done an excellent job in organising the Champagne Tea (complete with the Yorkshire Police Brass Band) and the afternoon flew by. It was great seeing all the characters we have been meeting over the many years we have been coming Oop North and, once again, we were made to feel part of the family. I still do not know the difference between a snicket and a gunnel though.

Monday saw Debs work from home in the bus whilst I walked along the road to visit Denis. We then headed back down south and, with more lessons learnt on how to deal with sub-zero temperatures, we packed away ready for the next trip.

The campsite? Brilliant! No facilities, but next to one of our favourite pubs and very close to the homes of the finest family that one could ever wish to have as friends.