Life’s a funny thing. You start off with all the time in the world, but no money to do anything, and from that point on you tend to oscillate frequently between the two. I don’t necessarily struggle too much with either, but invariably my free time is…at the wrong time. Since I work a particularly unfriendly shift pattern I tend to have days off in the week when himself is not around. Four days off in a row is great though. At times when I work Monday-Friday I loudly wonder how the rest of the world manages to pack a weekend into 2 measly days off.

2024 has heralded yet another new year’s resolution to use my van a bit more. Having a camper is great if you get your arse off the sofa and use it. I’ve found since the start of the year that my blocks of time off have been nibbled away at…a tempting overtime shift here, a social commitment there, and suddenly you’ve done nothing for a few weeks. So, I was determined to buck the trend.

As the patron saint of bad timing, my ideal weekend happened to coincide with a very early Easter weekend. And bank holiday weekends mean people in the way. But nonetheless, I persevered, and made sure Mark booked the Thursday off. Finishing work on Wednesday morning, after a few hours nap I was able to get the van up and ready, and we managed to leave at a relatively sensible 5.30pm (regular readers will note my somewhat intense frustration trying to get Mark to finish work on time).

This was actually an inspired time to get going. Virtually nothing on the road, and 90 minutes later we’re in Clevedon. Original plan was to try to get up to Sharpness docker’s club for the night, but a rumbling stomach won the day. The Salthouse is an exceptional pub stop that I’ve never got to before, and I think would be prohibitively busy in the summer, but in spring and autumn is perfect. There’s a small private car park alongside the public one with the height barrier, and it only charges between 10am and 9pm. We arrived at 7ish and paid £3 to stay until 11 the next morning, although a full day would have been a fiver- In summer £10.

For a spot like this you can’t beat it- Literally behind the Marine Lake, although we resolutely didn’t indulge…brrr. Dinner at the Salthouse was pretty standard pub fare, although reasonably priced. You even get your £3 parking back, if you remember to ask!

Up the next morning reasonably early, mainly due to a coffee van parking next to us and a crew of very loud Dryrobe-clad enthusiasts. No harm, no foul though, since a cursory peek through the skylights revealed bright sunshine. Clevedon’s got a lovely promenade to stroll, so we headed into town in search of decent coffee, as the coffee van had since departed. The council haven’t yet got rid of the ridiculous wavy painting around the seafront though. They’ve just slathered some shell grip on the road for reasons of their own.

Clevedon’s a nice place for a wander, and after coffee and a Danish from Pullin’s on the somewhat upmarket Hill Street shops we headed back to the van to hit the road. We didn’t have a particularly set itinerary, other than for avoiding crowds, so south was DEFINITELY out and we set our destination to Mid-Wales. I really like this area, there’s good walking and it’s fairly motorhome friendly- Powys council lets you stay in their car parks one night in seven, and I’ve previously had some lovely nights out all across the county.

We wound our way across the bridge and up through the middle of Wales, stopping in Talgarth for no other good reason than it looked pleasant. And this turned out to be a good assessment. A lovely little town with an obvious sense of community pride, loads of lovely little corners planted up and bee gardens by the river. Also a great cup of coffee at the restored Talgarth Mill.

Suitably refreshed, we continued northwards, stopping for fuel and the first of a couple of minor disasters. Both of which stem from me being lazy about sorting out minor van jobs. She is a sturdy beast but a 30-year old sturdy beast, and things don’t last forever. The first issue is with my fuel cap, which develops a vacuum and doesn’t want to open. This wouldn’t be such an issue, were it not for the fact that this requires significant force on the ignition key, which you really, really don’t want to break. The second issue is with a starter motor that sometimes doesn’t fancy it. The ominous lack of ‘clik!’ or indeed anything when you turn the key. Unfortunately, this time, there wasn’t a hint of anything. But thankfully when I wielded the crooklok to go and hit it, I found the wire had come off. Easy fix, sorted, on we go…

Not far now, to Rhayader, where I’d planned to overnight in a car park. In the sunshine Rhayader’s a lovely place to mooch around, if a bit busy, and gives you access to the spectacular Elan Valley. In the incessant rain though, not so much. We visited the car park, which Searchforsites helpfully points out is “Sloping” and found the entire thing to be about as flat as the Himalayan foothills, not even chocks would come close, so we popped into the Co-Op for provisions and headed back to Llandrindod Wells, the second choice of overnight stop.

It’s tempting to wild camp in the amazing Elan Valley, however from everything I’ve seen and read it’s all water company land and they tend to be quite proactive about turfing people off. A shame, but somewhere to explore on foot or bike instead maybe. Or in a less obvious camper…

Our venue for the night in Llandrindod Wells was the lake grounds. I was familiar with this, both from numerous Police driving courses- It’s an epic tea stop- and also from our last visit, when I bought a paddleboard. This feels too good for a free overnight stop, but it turned out fine. Nice parking bay beside the lake, job’s a good’un. There are parking spaces all round the lake, but they’ve now put in a one-way traffic system and a bike lane on the other side, so you park in the middle of the road, which would feel odd.

The weather by this point had seriously deteriorated- high winds on the drive up and now biblical rain showers. But we couldn’t just sit in the van all afternoon so turned to Google. The Arvon Ales taproom was a mere 7 minute walk away…mustn’t grumble…after a couple of very decent local pints we dodged the showers back to the van for a makeshift dinner.

As it turned out, this was an outstanding free parkup. No noise at all overnight, and only one other van, which parked diagonally across 7 spaces but thankfully left before anyone was able to get annoyed with it in the morning. I really feel the pressure to really look after spots like this, at a time when overnight spots can frequently disappear at the whims of local lobbying. I make sure we do our bit, parking sensibly, leaving no mess and spending money locally where possible. Campervan tourism like this really can be a win/win scenario, and I much prefer being in the heart of towns than stuck on a campsite miles out with facilities I just don’t need or want to pay for.

Surprised, we again awoke to bright sunshine. Quick lap of the lake then time to support the lakeside cafe with a bacon butty and coffee. £18. Ouch. It got me thinking how times have changed, and my reference bacon butty price used to be about £3. I wasn’t really sure where it was now, but it definitely wasn’t £6. Good quality bacon but just stuffed between a couple of bits of brown Hovis. Ho hum, we had a free night out…and a few litres of water from the bathroom tap! It was at least a lovely view in the sunshine.

Where to go next was a bit of a toss-up. I’d thought about Aberystwyth, but the options for overnighting are a bit limited and it would leave us a bit far-flung to get back on Sunday. So, at Mark’s suggestion, we headed to Shropshire instead.

Whilst not a million miles away, I don’t think there was any particularly good route for a 3 ton beast like Hetty. Crossing the border from Wales into England the road immediately crumbled, with a patchwork of potholes that became too difficult to do anything other than crashing through the middle of. We passed Coco’s Wild Camp on the way, which was due to have been our destination for a couple of nights however the biblical rain had defeated even their massive site, and they had decided to close on account of the mud bath. Next time.

The roads continued in a thoroughly and undeniably scenic fashion, lovely for my passenger but not equivalent to a pleasurable drive, hauling the old girl around steep corners, narrow bends and dodging potholes and navigating an unfriendly motoring public. The countryside is lovely though and somewhere we definitely need to return to- Possibly when Coco’s dries out a bit.

Two hours later, we pulled into the small town of Ironbridge. Since it was now Good Friday and, inexplicably the sun was still out, this was absolutely heaving, and initial impressions were definitely not positive. However, having passed through the tourist-spattered centre the main coach park turned out to be an oasis of calm on the opposite river bank, and we found an unobstructed, flat space almost immediately.

I’m not sure if overnighting is simply tolerated or actively welcomed here, nonetheless this was another bargain night- The car park only charges between 10am-5pm, so a few pounds to cover the remaining hours and we were set for the night. You can park all day for £6, which makes it a perfectly viable base to hit the local long distance bike trails. Excitingly, just down the road there’s a coracle hire place. Not at these river levels though!

We dumped the van and crossed the actual Iron Bridge into the centre proper. From the marvel of cast iron engineering which is the bridge itself (Wikipedia says built in 1781) a whole series of attractions in the town have emerged- Much like an Industrial Revolution Disneyland.

We investigated and dismissed such attractions, super expensive and too peoply. Pub it is instead, then. Plenty of those.

We ended up at the brilliant Coracle micropub for some ace local brews and world-class scratchings. Pop a fork in me, I’m done.

We ended the night with an inspired visit to the restaurant literally 200 yards from our temporary home. Based in an old station/ex-pub it serves all sorts of Mediterranean dishes and is elevated well beyond our usual pub grub. D’Arcy’s, if you’re wondering. Well done Mark.

Sadly it wasn’t all a complete fairytale. Some reviews on Searchforsites warned of boy racer shenanigans, and sure enough some members of the modified vehicle user group decided half midnight was a great time for car park football, then at 5.30am someone treated us to half an hour of disco tunes from their motor.

Whilst neither really affected us, you do feel a bit vulnerable in these situations, not knowing quite what’s going on outside. It’s never worth having ‘words’, and besides this is the trade-off avoiding campsites. There’s rarely any malice, it’s just noise.

The next morning, weather was again fantastic. We’d decided that if it wasn’t we would head home, but actually this was quite encouraging so we headed down to Bridgnorth, for no reason other than Mark thought it sounded nice.

I’ve never seen anywhere quite as busy, with a bumper market on, and all the car parks rammed…although the parking gods were smiling down on us with a free space at the bottom of this road, albeit requiring a bit of nifty parallel parking and a spotter.

£2 return. Doesn’t really go far, and obviously not a patch on Lynton, but worth it!

Bridgnorth is a lovely town for wandering. Suitably entertained, and full of cake we again hit the road towards Malvern. After a couple of days of B roads, I was very much done so we went the less direct route down the main road.

Stocked up at Lidl for a night out and we were off to another great Searchforsites find on the outskirts of Malvern. A few tense moments on the way up the narrow road, cars parked everywhere because bank holiday. We didn’t get a prime spot straight away, but once a few cars moved I gingerly shuffled the van up a bit.

This parkup had a couple of good benefits… free, off the beaten track and with a path onto the hill right behind us! Good few miles in ths sunshine up to the aptly named Worcestershire Beacon…you can see for MILES. Back down via the community shop for the milk I forgot and a quick aperitif…

The other great benefit of our parking spot was a pub 100m away…and a cracking one.

The Brewers was recently bought by the community to prevent it being lost, and now they have local shareholders. People help out to run the place, and they’ve just employed their fulltime barman. That’s people power!

Naturally we were eyed with suspicion upon entry, but that’s just country pub stuff. One of the best pub meals I‘ve had in a while too!

This was a great parkup. Lovely peaceful night, if a little chilly. I never leave the heater on at night, prefer to wake up in the morning, but anyway it warms up quickly. These days it’s all diesel heaters in vans, but there’s something to be said for a quiet gas fire. The one in Hetty also has blowers to distribute the hot air around. And a lovely shower.

This was it though. Four nights had come to an end, so the long shlep back to Minehead, and dreaming of the next mini adventure…

If you always head to the coast, switch it up a bit. There’s a lot to be said for inland!