Tis that time again here in Devon, yes it’s started – Static Caravan Relocation (SCR) as the name suggests, it is the removal, siting or relocation of static caravans ahead of the holiday season which kicks off properly at Easter. Now, I’m no anti-holidaying hermit so I understand how important tourism is to Devon…..
Whereas, by the beginning of the Easter hols all these Static Caravans will be in place in holiday parks across the county and the tourists will be happy – unless of course the decor is a bit dated or it’s not as big as you thought it would be or you’re miles away from the shonky cafe/onsite swimming pool and there’s no promised ‘sea view’. In the meantime the Devonshire locals are getting static shocks literally as they have to contend with the heavy duty moving of these oversized caravans while going about their countrified business in the narrow countrified roads and lanes – you get me.
I would like to share with you my most recent (not really very shocking at all) experience of Static Caravan Relocation: this occurred on a recent trip to Exeter on a rare day off. I had between the hours of 9 and 3:30pm to go wild, fill my boots and experience the bright lights of the city – which actually constituted of meeting a friend for coffee then spending an hour or so clothes worshipping in that holiest of fashion churches Zara. Amen.
A static caravan
(photo source: leisuredays.co.uk)
The actual story – annoyingly written in the presence tense for no apparent reason!
The first thing I notice about a Static Caravan Relocation (SCR) occurring up my way is that the lane in the opposite direction goes very quiet, no cars are coming. This feels slightly apocalyptic and eery plus a sure fired tell tale sign. Next, the unusual stillness is broken by a small white van with it’s hazards a flashing and a whirly light a twirling on the roof (like a pretend police car) driving towards me at speed up the middle of the road. The driver then flags me down (actually I’ve stopped as I’m not overly keen on the prospect of a head on collision) then he gesticulates to wind down my window, using a slow rolling motion with his best nose picking finger- so helpful!
Cue officious support vehicle man who wants to tell me what to do – he’s in control. I am not!
“There’s a static caravan coming through love.”
Ok, I’m no Miss Marple but I’d guessed he wasn’t stopping me to indulge in discourse regarding the abundant variety of wild spring flowers adorning the verges this year!
“If you could just pull right over into the hedge he should have no trouble getting past you.”
If you could just pull right over into the hedge (and scratch up your slightly new car to bastard hell and back) he should have no trouble getting past you.
“Once you’ve done that just sit tight and wait for him to pass.”
Once you’ve done that just sit tight (get really effed off by the time that this is wasting and that you could be drinking coffee or throwing your credit card at the sacrificial altar of Zara) and wait for him to pass.
The officious support vehicle van driver then roars off self importantly (he fancies himself as the 6th emergency service – I blame the flashing nee narr light). He’s off to flag down and waggle his bogie-ified digit at the unsuspecting drivers behind me.
Time passes? Minutes? Hours? Days? Imagine a crappy film montage – the scene with leaves falling off trees and then snow. I’m not even sure anymore of how much time has passed when suddenly in the distance I can see more flashing lights and a massive lorry with a humungous static on it’s trailer, lumbering towards me like a ginormous giant (Fleshlumpeater – not a nice one like the BFG). It looms and grows ever closer, I actually breath in and make myself smaller as the side of the bastard beast comes within about 10 cm of my car. I close my eyes, and let go of a litany of expletives. Then as I finally pull away, I drive past a lengthy tailback, in the opposite lane, of poor deranged drivers who all look like they may have considered euthanasia in the last hour or so.
When waiting for ‘Static Caravan Relocation’ works really well and is particularly timely and enjoyable!
-When you’ve been messing about in Homebase weighing up the pros and cons of satin versus gloss and are already properly late for school pick up.
-When you’re trying to get to Bristol Airport and you’ve been subjected to Static Caravan Relocation in both Devon and Wiltshire. That’s not one but two officious support vehicle van drivers coming at you for a head on road traffic collision and gesticulating at you with their nose picking fingers. That’s twice when your car has been more scratched up than after a cat-fight in a nightclub! And two times when you manically think you’ll miss that flight. Sweet.
-When you are trying to go ‘a simple three miles’ up the road to a swimming party. You get stuck waiting for a particular Static Caravan Relocation to pass with a hysterical seven year old on board keeping up a diarrhoea like running commentary. “Are we going to be late now Mummy? Are they getting changed into their swimming costumes now Mummy? Are they actually swimming now Mummy? Are they playing on the giant floats now Mummy? Are they they having chicken nuggets and chips now Mummy? Waaaaah waaaaaah waaaaah.”
-When a Static Caravan Relocation situation gets a bit lodged in over hanging branches and has to be cut free by the real life emergency services – liberally sprinkle another 57 minutes to your journey time. The only consolation here might be catching a glimpse of some burly firefighters going about their work…..
-When a Static Caravan Relocation occurs as you’re trying to get to your favourite and popular country pub for lunch and you know the landlord will give your reserved table away after twenty minutes to some tourists (who are probably staying at a local holiday park in a newly relocated static caravan).
Have you been adversely affected by Static Caravan Relocation or something similar up yours?
As you were!
Ps, if you liked this post then here’s my previous offering! If not, don’t bother clicking on the link I shan’t be at all offended!