Flatcap and the Campervan

It appears that Flatcap’s Guide to UK Holidays is gathering fans, having picked up two excellent reviews in the last few hours.

Mr W said, ‘Been there! Done that! Got the T-Shirt! LOL’

And Derek Townsend admitted, ‘I loved it because it reminded me of me and many other married men I should imagine, a laugh a minute.’

What’s all the fuss about? Well, admittedly, one or two people have bought the book thinking it was a serious guide to holidaying in the UK. In truth it is a 98-page advice column on the iniquities of holidaying in the UK, and it’s accurate to within a millimetre of its calculated curve.

So as a special Monday treat, here is a snippet from said tome, Flatcap waxing eloquent on the subject of owning your own holiday home.

Photo © Beverly Goodwin

Have you ever been stuck behind a campervan? Most of the drivers have never been behind the wheel of anything larger than a Nissan Micra, so to them the mobile home is a juggernaut. As a result, I’ve never found one yet capable of travelling faster than 50mph, and that’s only on motorways. On main, trunk roads they can’t get up sufficient head of steam to make 30, and they won’t travel on roads with a lower classification because the drivers don’t believe they can fit into them.

Why are they like this? If you pull along the nearside of one, you’ll find the passenger seat empty, and then you know why. It’s because she’s in the back preparing the Sunday joint, and he’s taking it steady because he doesn’t want to spill the gravy.

Suppose you pull along the nearside and his wife is sat in the passenger seat?

He’s like you; a married man, and she’s nagging him to take it steady. She’s reminding him of the Spalding Incident. Briefly, what happened was he stopped at a set of lights. Some young chick crossed the road in front of him and he was so busy ogling her legs, he didn’t notice that the lights had changed. A bus behind him gave him a touch of the horn and he snatched at the clutch. The campervan lurched forward like a kangaroo testing out a spacehopper, and in the back, the sherry trifle, which hadn’t quite set, was left listing dangerously to port, and his wife’s carefully arranged potpourri splattered all over the shop. As a result, she spent the entire 25 miles from Spalding to Sleaford hoovering the carpet, polishing the foldaway dining table, and trying to correct the tilt on the trifle. Ever since this incident, she’s insisted he keep his speed down.

Mobile homes come in all shapes and sizes, from a compact VW Westphalia, which first saw the light of day as a plumber’s van in 1972, to vehicles the size of a removal van. No matter what make, model or size you look at, they all have one price: more than you can afford.

About 15 years ago, I owned a dark green, 1971 Vauxhall Viva estate. The doors didn’t lock, the engine mountings were blocks of wood and it did about 7 to the gallon. I gave £40 for it, which was about the right price. If it had been the above-mentioned VW Westphalia, it would have carried a price tag of about £2000. The mechanical, physical and fuel problems would have been just the same, but the price would have shifted into overdrive . . . which is more than most VW Westphalias can do.

And there you have it. Flatcap’s Guide to UK Holidays is chocabloc with such sensible advice, all of which you can take as gospel or with a pinch of salt, but of course, salt is bad for your blood pressure.

A bit like holidays with Her Indoors as it happens.