We're back from a great camping holiday in Devon.
The T5 did us proud...packing in and transporting all our camping gear, cooking gear, sleeping gear, wearing gear, playing gear, 11 month old, 2.5 year old, 12 year old, 16 year old, 31 year old and 36 year old.
We had plenty of space to boot. Unlike some poor sardines travelling down a very busy M5 very early on an August Saturday morning.
We saw all sorts of packing techniques...
...kids squashed in the back amongst pillows and duvets, sweaty little heads popping out the top for air while the family terrier is spread out on it's back on mum's lap in the passenger seat upon its own personal doggy pillow.
...Ikea storage boxes rammed full of clothes strapped to roof boxes. (Really don't want to see your undies pal..even less all your dirty washing on the way back).
...Windbreaks (uh, optimistic!) getting shredded to pieces as they are tightly packed and strapped underneath bursting to the seams roof boxes.
...Brightly coloured towels and inflatable rings squashed up against the back window of boots. Buckets and spades too, inevitably cracked as harrassed parents slam and force and bounce the boots shut "You will shut. You will shut. You will shut.if.it's.the.last.thing.i.do" then "What do you mean you need to get the sun cream out for the journey down?! No. Just no!"
We had oodles of space. I comfortably sat in the back between the babies in their car seats, feet up on the cool box munching a holiday pain au chocolat. The boys sat in the front controlling the sound system.
It was a good job the toddler spotted an epic error half way down the main road on the way to the motorway. *Someone* had left one of the back doors of the van open.
Some poor souls would have been treated to our pillows and duvets, clothes and undies, wind break, towels, inflatables, buckets and spades littered all the way down the M5.
And we would have arrived at our holiday destination with more space in the van then we left with.
And before you ask. It wasn't me!
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