Author Archives: jo

Day 3: Organising Chaos

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Poole, UK

It’s organisation day! But first, emergency repairs: Bertie’s having a mid-life crisis – his air-con has packed up and I’m not doing another van trip in a sauna!

We took him to the local Mercedes dealer and they had a look. Turns out he had no gas! They tried to re-gas him and failed. More diagnostics are needed. They won’t have time to fix him before we go away, so we decided to leave it until we get back. We’re heading north. How hot can it get?

Other than that, the day was spent sorting our van. We took some stuff back to storage, picked up some more stuff and bought more stuff. What stuff? I have no idea!

Then it was time to wash Bertie. This was a bigger deal than it should have been. First there was a queue, so we decided to check the air in our tyres. But it cost £1 just to find out. Outrageous! We didn’t even know how much air we needed. So, back in the car wash queue we went, grumbling about being charged for something that’s literally everywhere. Then it was our turn to wash. 

We chose the ten minute option thinking this would be heaps of time. There were three different hoses. The black hose for fresh water, the blue hose for soapy water, and the hose for the brush. Straight forward enough, except they’d all got tangled up in a mess by the last person. Why hadn’t we thought to check that beforehand? The clock and our money ticked by as we desperately tried to untangle them.

In an attempt to make up for lost time, we tag-teamed it: Mike wielded the squirty hose, I chased after him with the brush. But when it was time to use the soap, it just trickled out like an old man having a pee. By the time we’d dribbled soap all over the van, we were down to our last minute. We need to rinse, NOW! I grabbed the black hose and started spraying like a maniac, but only soapy water came out. Shit! We’re not gonna make it! God help us if we have to pay more money! And then everything went quiet. The frantic hustle gave way to an unsettling silence. The stupid machine had left us with a half-clean and soapy Bertie.

I sent Mike into the shop to complain and he came back with a lady, a refund, and a queue of annoyed people waiting to wash their cars. So, Bertie is partially clean. That will have to do.

I think we are now all ready for our big adventure which starts tomorrow! Driving on the M25 to Dover! (Oh, and we’re catching a ferry too, if we can get out of the M25 car park.)

Day 2 – Reunited with Bertie

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Bournemouth to Poole

Today we picked up our van, Bertie! First challenge: me in the driver’s seat. What could possibly go wrong?

Mike’s daughter, Mich had been looking after Bertie while we were away. She’d taken him for little adventures,  just around the block to stretch his wheels. But just before we arrived, he went on a big adventure. Bertie went to a festival! He’s been living his best van-life without us!

Mike was only insured to drive our rental car, which meant I had to drive Bertie. I’d never driven him before, and he’s very big. And manual. The last time I drove a manual was in a different lifetime, on a different continent, in a car that was much smaller and far less judgmental.

It took a few moments to find reverse. The little guideline that usually sits on the gear stick had fallen off. I found it in the ashtray. Reverse was to the left and down. I did this, but the van kept creeping forward. With a massive big fence in front of me, I didn’t have much room for error. So I called on the “expert” for help. Turns out, Bertie has a secret handshake: to get reverse, you have to lift a hidden collar thingy before moving the gear stick. 

Next I had to manoeuvre this beast out of the car spot. It’s weird not having a rearview mirror. How do I know there’s nothing behind me? The side mirrors worked fine. I had to call in the “expert” again to make sure I didn’t hit anything. He walks up, laughs, and points to the dash. ‘You’ve got a reversing camera!’
That would’ve been handy five minutes ago. Little did I know, the reversing camera has a personality all of its own. But more on that later.

Next, I had to try to keep up with Mike on the way to drop off the rental car. For anyone that knows Mike, put him in a car in England and he instantly drives like a maniac. (He calls it rally driving).

Surprisingly, Bertie was a dream to drive. The real challenge wasn’t the gears. It was squeezing his chunky frame into England’s idea of “lanes”. 

As for changing gears? Turns out, muscle memory is a thing. Just like riding a bike. A very large,  intimidating bike with a house strapped to it.

I made it to europcar, incident free. No curbs were harmed. I even managed to vlog a bit while driving, because why not raise the difficulty level? Clearly, I’m now a professional van driver.

There is one small problem with the van. His air-conditioning isn’t working. Apparently, functioning air-con is just too much to ask from our campervans. First Rodger, then Poppy, now Bertie! But I managed to get an appointment tomorrow at the Mercedes dealership. Not cheap, but it beats sitting in a mobile oven. 

I’m guessing our readers might be confused at this point. In the previous blogs we were preparing for the arctic and extreme cold, and now we’re worried about the air-con not working. Well, it’s just the way things work in Europe. 

The rest of the day was a blur of “just a few errands” that somehow swallowed the entire afternoon.

First stop: the storage unit, where we played a fun game of Find Our Stuff. We loaded up, drove to the campground just outside Poole, feeling quite accomplished… until we realised we’d forgotten the camping chairs. You know, those minor luxuries like somewhere to sit. So, back to storage we went for round two. By the time we returned, we were absolutely wiped out. And to top it off, we had the kids coming over for dinner.

The kids arrived around 4:30pm and we had a nice evening catching up. Mike cooked some Chinese pork burgers but we completely forgot Jessie’s now a vegetarian. Oops. Thankfully, the food truck on-site came to the rescue. Mac and cheese chips for Jessie. Crisis averted. 

After they left, all we wanted to do was fall into bed. Tiny problem. There was stuff all over it. We’d basically regurgitated our storage unit into our tiny living space. Then I had a revelation. The cab area … totally empty!. Within minutes, we’d relocated our crap heap onto the front seats. Problem solved. Out of sight, out of mind. Sleep restored.

Tomorrow, we attempt “organisation.” Wish us luck.

Day 1 – Bournemouth

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My advice for today is… Don’t go shopping for “essentials” when jet-lagged! You’ve been warned!

The day went something like this. After washing the plane gunk off our clothes, we went out for Sunday lunch. I bet you’re thinking cosy English pub, nice roast dinner, pint of a warm beer. But no, we’re in Westborne, and upmarket part of Bournemouth, so a fancy cafe it was. Mike had a mountain of avocado and bacon on sourdough. I had a halloumi burger. Both were really good.

Then we visited our favourite store. Decathlon! We went in for “a couple of things” and came out with half the Arctic wardrobe section. Thermals, hiking trousers, fleeces, and a bunch of other “essentials”… all in preparation for our sunny summer holiday. 

Tonight we played games with the kids. I lost. Then I challenged Mike to chess. I won!

This is what jet lag chess looks like:
Me: “Why didn’t you take my queen?”
Mike: “Oh, damn, I didn’t see that.”
Me: I immediately move a random piece that is NOT my queen.
Mike: takes queen.
Both of us laugh, because clearly, our brains are still somewhere over Malaysia. Which brings me to my next thing.

Last night I couldn’t sleep, so I wrote a little poem:

Jet lag jet lag you’re such a prick

You make me feel a little thick

While everyone else is fast asleep 

I’m laying here counting sheep

My body arrived but my brain stayed home

Now I’m feeling all alone 

I’m wide awake and want to play

But it’s dark outside and not yet day

This poem’s lame, it’s hard to rhyme

Jet lag does it every time

It turns my mind to a pile of shite

Hope my brain is on the next flight

Tomorrow we pick up Bertie!

Midnight Flights and Sleepless Nights

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Who in their right mind chooses a midnight flight? We’re usually in bed by 9 p.m. What were the chances we’d actually stay awake… and not miss our flight?

Mike had strict instructions: I was having a pre-flight nap, and under no circumstances was he allowed to fall asleep. He followed his orders like a pro, and we made it to the gate in plenty of time.

Our flight from Auckland to Singapore was slightly late boarding, so all we wanted was to get on board, close our eyes, and go to sleep. But we couldn’t miss the meal, could we? Of course not. So we stayed awake, thinking it’d be any minute. Turns out, that minute was 2 a.m. Was it worth it? Hard to say. But we powered through, stuffed our faces, and then zonked out for a solid six hours, waking up just in time for breakfast before landing.

Flying into Singapore was so easy. I’d been a little worried about the 2-hour layover. There’s always the chance of a delay on the first leg causing us to miss our second flight, but it was a breeze. In Singapore, there is no need to go through immigration like in the U.S., and the whole process is so much easier.

Then came the 14-hour flight to London. This one was a bit of a drag. They had very little in the way of movies or TV series. I did watch one movie I’d never heard of called  Whiplash. It was about a talented young jazz drummer at one of New York’s best music schools. Well worth a watch if you ever come across it.

Both flights were extremely smooth—no turbulence.

The weird thing about Singapore Airlines is they fed us breakfast early on in the flight, then brought us dinner in the middle of the flight—seven hours before landing! And then… nothing. No snack, no dessert, just an announcement to say we’d be landing soon.

Landing at Heathrow was a breeze. We flew straight in with no holding pattern, just a smooth descent right to the gate! ‘I bet Nick’s working,’ I said to Mike. He was!

We arrived to a bright, sunny day and a perfect 22°C. When we got to Europcar, they hit us with the classic upsell. The sales lady informed us that our rental was a compact, but for just £30 more per day, we could upgrade to a  much  bigger and  much  better BMW.

We struggle to make decisions at the best of times. Add jetlag after a long-haul flight, and we’re basically two confused zombies just nodding at anything that sounds vaguely helpful.

But not today! We knew this game, and this time, we were ready. Although the idea of a nicer, larger car that was automatic rather than manual sounded appealing, nope! We were determined not to be railroaded into spending more money than we needed to. So we did the sensible thing: we asked to see both cars. Like detectives. Tired, jet-lagged detectives in sneakers.

Turns out, the Skoda was the same size as the BMW – maybe even a smidge taller. So that settled it. No need for a wanker’s badge, and we’d have indicators that work! We would  not be paying extra.

The one thing we thought we had sorted before we arrived was insurance. We’d agreed back in NZ, in our pre-jetlagged state, that we would not fall for the extra coverage trap. Our travel insurance had it covered. We were firm. Unshakeable. We smiled politely, stood our ground, and confidently told her we didn’t need it.

Fast forward five minutes: there we are, walking out, shaking our heads. Somehow, we’ve ended up with extra insurance. Again. Honestly, it’s like magic. Expensive, sneaky magic.

So we loaded up our Skoda, excited to finally be here. Mike put it into gear and lurched away with his clunky gear changes, obviously not used to driving a manual. I was starting to wish we had paid extra for the automatic. Trying not to vomit, we made it to the motorway and it was smooth sailing down to Bournemouth.

We arrived at Em’s place expecting to be greeted by over-enthusiastic grandkids excited to see us. But they were nowhere to be seen. As we placed our backpacks down, I heard Em trying to coax them out of their rooms. About five minutes later, they reluctantly left their devices to come say hello, before quickly scurrying back to their rooms. Teenagers! (Yes, they are teenagers as young as eight these days.)

After washing off the plane gunk and having a yummy spag bol that Em’s had cooked us, we felt almost human again, thankful that the long travel day was finally over.

Flying Day

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Today was flying day. That odd, limbo-like day where you’re hanging around at home, but you just want to get to the airport. 

Our main mission was to tuck Poppy into the garage, safely out of reach of winter and her arch-nemesis, Rust. Unfortunately, she takes up ALL the space, so that had to be our final task. The rest of the day was spent disconnecting car batteries, washing sheets and emptying the loo. 

Our flight isn’t until midnight, but we could either sit around at home or sit around at the airport. We chose the airport. So we caught the 2.30pm bus from Hamilton.

The intercity buses have been having a few problems with breaking down, and we had a flash replacement bus. The bus driver got on and said, “how the hell do I drive this thing?” I let out a nervous chuckle. I thought he was kidding, but he was serious! As we lurched onto the road, he was still adjusting his seat, fiddling with buttons, and making occasional wooshing noises.

Apart from a brief moment where we was talking on his mobile while driving a bus load of people along the motorway, I felt mostly safe.

We arrived at Manukau and had to catch another bus. We swapped from our flash comfy bus to a utilitarian commuter which smelled like piss. But it was only a few mins to the airport. Hopefully not enough time to infuse into my clothes.

We arrived at the airport at 5pm. We’d already checked in so it was just a matter of walking through. And here we are, sitting in the airport, 7 hours early for our flight. That’s gotta be a record!

We’d just found ourselves a cosy spot by the window looking at the planes, when out of nowhere came a horrendous downpour. Then the airport started leaking! It started with a few drips, then it came pouring through the ceiling! So that was our excitement for the day. Next stop. Singapore! 

Almost Ready

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It’s that time of year again, when we flee the cold in search of sunshine. Not that it always works out that way. Last year, we ended up camping in sub-zero temperatures and in snow! This year? Probably something equally ridiculous, in pursuit of the midnight sun.

Norway is calling. We’ve never been. I’ve always been terrified of those endless tunnels they have up there, but I’m sucking it up. There’s usually some sort of a detour if I get spooked, usually in the form of a stunningly scenic mountain pass that adds 2 hours onto the journey.

But hey, we’re not in a rush. Apart from the imposed 90-day limit due to Brexit. But we don’t talk about the B-word.

This week was meant to be all about ticking off the to-do list. What actually happened was several days of faffing about, followed by a Thursday panic. Classic us. We did buy travel insurance though — today. We leave tomorrow!

We still haven’t booked the ferry to France. Or the one to Norway. But hey, one thing at a time. We don’t want to overdo it.

Tomorrow, we catch the bus to Auckland, scheduled to arrive ten hours early for our flight. But more on that tomorrow.

England – Getting to Heathrow

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For some reason, instead of renting a car to get to the airport like we normally do, we decided to catch a bus to save money. This was a big mistake. Not only did we spend more, we have also decided to never catch the bus again. Here’s how our trip to Heathrow went.

We dropped Bertie (our van) off at Mich’s work, and walked 30 minutes to the Poole bus station. When we got there the driver wouldn’t let us on board. The reason was not pleasant.

Someone had spewed up on the bus on the way down from London. Apparently it was everywhere! But they had no replacement bus. So the driver cleaned it up as best he could, and told us we’d have to travel on the sick bus to Bournemouth (about 45 minute drive).

I picked a bad day to forget to bring a face mask. Thankfully a lady waiting for the bus lent me one. We all piled on the vomit bus and headed to Bournemouth. Thankfully I didn’t notice the smell through my mask.

At Bournemouth station there was a delay waiting for the replacement bus. A couple of people waiting were getting a bit stressy as their flight was later that day. Thankfully we were smart and our flight wasn’t until the next day so we didn’t care too much.

Eventually the bus arrived and this one smelled way worse. There was a toilet on board and really pungent toilet smells wafted around the bus for the entire 3 hour journey. I think I would have preferred the puke bus!

The driver was telling us how he got stuck in a traffic jam on the motorway the day before for 4 hours! Thankfully we had a good run in to Heathrow with no delays.

We stayed in an airport hotel, and the cost of bus and hotel was a lot less than a rental car. But by the time we added dinner, breakfast, and taxis to and from the airport, it worked out to a lot more. But no problem, we had a nice hotel stay, nice breakfast and a low stress morning before our flight.

England – Telford

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As I mentioned in my last blog, we were heading up to Telford for an event. The plan was for a mini road trip, however the weather was so bad, we decided to stay put at the Salisbury campground.

It was just as well we did, as that day there was major flooding on our route. People were stranded on the M5 motorway and having to be rescued!

So the next day we had a four hour drive to Telford which turned into a 5 hour drive. Have I mentioned why we are heading up?

Some YouTubers we’ve been following for years have just finished driving their old van around the world and we’re having a welcome home party. So we thought as we were in England it would be a great night to attend. We actually met Chris and Marianne on Vancouver island, but we hadn’t met Trudy, their van.

It was a really good night. 3 course meal, some talks about their travel and we got to meet a few other YouTubers who attended.

The night finished up with dancing, and as per tradition, we were one of the last to leave at 1.30am.

It was a good fun night!

England Road Trip

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We left Bournemouth and started heading north to Telford, for an event we’d booked into on the 27th sept. But we got as far as Salisbury, an hour or so from Bournemouth, and stopped. The weather was miserable, cold and wet, but thankfully Bertie is super warm and cosy with the heater going. And no leaks so far!

We’d been putting off booking our flights home, not really knowing what we are doing.

But a few things at home are calling us back. We both have medical things to be checked out, and Mark and Sophie (our flatmates) are moving out, and then there’s all the work we need to do in Wellington.

Our travel insurance runs out on the 30th sept, so we needed to see if we could change that first. I had to stay up late (10pm) to call them, and was blown away by how much they were going to charge each week we were away! I think they don’t like you to be away for more than 6 months at a time!

So that prompted us into action. Thankfully we found a flight on special just a week away.

We’re still about 4 hours drive from Telford, but more about that later.

England

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We’ve been hanging out in England for the last week or so, catching up with family, and Mike has been doing some enhancements on our van.

The biggest improvement is setting the electrics up so our house batteries charge as we’re driving along from the alternator . He has also set up an electric hookup so we can hookup at a campground. we’ve yet to test this out!

We’ve also put some storage baskets up where we can store cables and bits and bobs.

We’re going away tomorrow, heading north for a mini uk road trip. We just found out Eddie has Covid though, so we may not get too far if we get it. Keeping our fingers crossed.