We're all packing for a summer holiday...

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!

Tales from the tent

Before the VW T5 we had a T4, and before that we had a tent.

I love camping. As explained in one of my earlier posts it's in the blood. After all, I've been brought up on it from trailer tenting right through to caravanning.

In fact rather than swan off to some swish Caribbean lurve island for our honeymoon we decided to stay in the UK and tent our way along the North Cornwall and Devon coast.

I would like to say this was for environmental reasons and we wanted to keep our carbon footprint down, but I would be lying wouldn't I? I now drive a T5 as my daily commute after all.

No, we decided to camp coz we both love being under canvas. And it also meant our baby - our mad Springer Spaniel called Marley - could join us.

Now this would have been fine if it hadn't been one of the most tempestuous Septembers in years. The tent was soaked and two of our tent poles got snapped by all the violent shaking of the tent...(ahem!)

One particular stormy night in Padstow we were joined by some new neighbours in our quagmired section of the campsite. A nice, professional looking couple in a hired baby blue bay VW campervan.

Lucky buggers, we thought. Bet they will be nice and cosy in their van tonight.

After salivating over the coolness of the camper, pushing our wet faces up against the damp glass and fogging up the pane to try and get a glimpse of the interior, we donned our waterproofs to go into town for a Doom Bar (him) and a Cornish Rattler or two (me).

On our return it was plain to see the campers next to us were not happy.

Through lots of thuds, thumps and exasperated sighs came...'Oigh, get on your side! Your on my side of the bed!' Thud..thump...thud 'Seriously! How do you take up so much room!' Thud...thump...thump 'Oh my god. Will you stop moving and stay still so I can get some sleep?!'

Trying to hold in fits of giggles and guffaws of laughter (ok, we may have been a tad tipsy) we crashed out into our damp, soggy tent.

Through the howl of the wind and the slashing sound of rain on canvas we were woken up by the odd argument throughout the night about who had the most bed.

The next morning the sun made an appearance, and we were greeted by two very tired and unhappy looking campers.

'Want to swap?' We said cheerfully on the way to the showers.

Unfortunately not everyone is cut out to be a camper...whether under canvas or in a dream van.

We're not sure what happened to the couple in the cool camper. On our return from the shower blocks all that was left were tyre tracks in the mud. And our tent still standing (well, just).

One T5 and a little baby

We got our VW T5 just before I was due with the latest addition to the family.

I've blogged before about why anyone above the size of a normal nuclear family should consider one. But I wanted to share in a bit more detail why they are so bloody brilliant with a baby.

Firstly, it's a mobile baby changing facility.  Now I know you can change a baby on the back seat or in an open boot of a normal car, but its a faff and quite frankly freezing if you are changing little bottoms with the door or boot open.

In the T5 you can close the sliding door and change your little one in a draft free private zone.

Talking of privacy, the VW T5 also provides a perfect on the go breast feeding space.

Well, unless you have two builders putting their faces up against the privacy glass to peer in at the interior as you are sat feeding while your husband is busy buying yet another spare part in Cheltenham VW Van Centre (on yet another visit).

'Yea. This is just the right colour of red we need. Matches our logo perfectly. Oh wait. Flipping eck. There's someone in there.'

Now, are you referring to the red of your face, mine or the colour of the van, mate? Sorry. This van isn't for sale!

I also say private unless you are breast feeding in the back with the LED spotlights on in the dark. It turns out you can see everything through limo tinted glass in these conditions. The poor shoppers at Morrisons that night got a bit more breast then they bargained for!

There is also acres of space in the T5 for all the baby kit you need. Travelling to my mum's for the night with baby bouncer, activity centre, baby blankets and sheets, moses basket, bottle steriliser, tubs of formula, packets of nappies, suitcase full of clothes and muslin cloths, double buggy, bag full of baby toys, dog, toddler and baby in a car seat was never a problem. I did say night, right?!

And above all, it really is a home from home. Chuck in a play mat and some toys and add to this a handy picnic pod with gas camp stove and kettle and you can rustle up a bottle (or a much needed coffee) in no time while the kids play in their personal play pen.

As we come into summer the van is proving itself a fantastic addition to the family again. It's a beach hut...offering private changing and drying facilities at the beach. And it's a bolt hole when the sun gets too much, especially with a drive up gazebo on the side. The acres of space comes in handy again on day and camping trips as you can pack the kitchen sink without feeling guilty.

In fact the husband has added a handy little hideaway box on the inside of the back door so we can keep our camping stove and chairs tidily stowed away, taking them with us everywhere.

And as we enter the messy world of toilet training our toddler, the van has proved it's worth again acting as a WC on wheels. With a little porta potty in the back there is no stoopying on the side of the road for us!

The VW T5 is proving to be a great addition to the family, and one I am sure will grow with us as the babies grow.

One life. Drive it.

Stuff memories are made of

My parents used to take me and my sisters camping as kids.

Our camping adventures began in a trailer tent. Bright orange with brown and orange flowers on the curtains. Total retro hippy cool.

After a few fun filled years under canvas we upgraded to a caravan.

We loved the caravan so much we used to beg our parents to let us sit in there and play board games on rainy days so we could pretend we were camping with the rain hammering down on the roof...ding, ding, ding, ding. It's a sound that often used to send us to sleep on holiday (well you know what the great British weather is like!)

The best holiday I remember having as a child was when we took the caravan to a field in the Gower overlooking the vast blue sea.

There were no toilet blocks, no playgrounds. Just heaps and heaps of sun and freedom.

Me and my little sister spent hours flying kites and collecting shells on deserted beaches, then at the end of the day we would have a cold alfresco shower and collapse sunburnt and exhausted in our cosy sleeping bags.

I can remember the cool, fresh dampness of early morning dew between my toes, the whistles of camp kettles getting louder and louder. The smell of bacon bubbling on camp stoves early in the morning and the tang of early evening smokey bbqs.

This is the stuff great memories are made of, and I want to create those same cracking memories for my kids.

We made a start on that this weekend, taking advantage of the stonking weather we are enjoying joining friends with kids the same age as ours at a nearby camp site.

The kids loved it and we have got some wonderful new memories to cherish as parents. Watching our baby girl crawl around in the grass just wearing her nappy covered from head to toe in chocolate biscuit, then dunking her in the washing up bowl to clean her up and cool her off.

Seeing our toddler tearing happily along the road on his little red scooter, stooping down in concentration to collect pretty duck feathers around the lake, kicking a football as hard as he could and whooping with delight as he rolled around in the grass wrestling with his friends.

The view from our breakfast table, and the van, was pretty spectacular too.

It was a weekend I will never forget, and hopefully one the kids will remember and cherish too.

My boy is already asking when is the van taking us all camping again!

Soon, son. Soon.

Commuter shed on wheels

Hi ho hi ho. It's back to work I go.

This week I rejoined the world of work after ten months off with my gorgeous babies.

I'm two days in. Tired, torn with guilt at not doing enough at home with the kids and not doing enough at work for my colleagues. I think I just need to learn to live with the guilt of being a working mum.

I tell you what though. It's nice to have proper conversations and a laugh about grown up things compared to endless renditions of 'horsey, horsey' or 'the wheels on the bus' and blowing raspberries.

Eating a meal with both hands and drinking a cup of tea while it's warm is a welcome novelty too.

Before heading back to work we decided to have a massive clear out.
The babies are growing fast and shedding a mountain of clothes,  toys and baby equipment behind them. A mountain the house can no longer comfortably conceal.

The plan...car boot as much as possible and put the money by for our upcoming family camping holiday.

Unfortunately we didn't shift half as much as we wanted too. Do you know how much people try to knock you down at a car boot?

Much of the morning's selling (which started at the unspeakable hour of 6am) went like this...

'How much for this?'

'Fiver' (Which is a bloody bargain for a virtually brand new baby walker)

'Will you take two?'

'No. It's a fiver.'

'Two fifty then?'

'No. It's a fiver...'

'Ok. Three?'

'No. A fiver. I've just set up. Make me an offer later.'

After a hard morning haggling we came back with at least half the stuff, but I couldn't face bringing it back into my slightly clutter clearer home until we could donate it all to the local charity shop.

Instead, it remained in the van, which is where is still remains. Our travelling shed on four alloy wheels.

Over the past two days our car boot cast offs have been keeping me company on my daily commute to work (on which I've scored two VW waves) jingling and jangling in the back.

I will get round to dropping it all off at the charity shop soon but the van is so spacious I hardly notice its there. I guess I just want to hang on to the vestiges of babyhood that little bit longer too...

Sunday Roast Post; Cleeve Cloud

The blog's branching out to write about some of the things our family loves.

Namely family days out and camping (involving the van) and eating (involving my tum).

I love a good roast dinner. But I am not a fan of slaving over a hot hob and oven and then a soapy sink for hours when we could be spending precious time together as a family.

Instead, we often take a road trip in the van and pay to enjoy roast dinner delights cooked and cleaned by someone else. (Only if my mum's not cooking. And then we help clean up.)

Now, finding a family friendly restaurant that serves up a roast anywhere near as good as my mum's is the holy grail. (My mum's roasts are, after all, THE best).

We've tried, and are continuing to sample, a few in our quest. So I thought we would share our experiences in a regular 'Sunday Roast Post' review to give you an idea of where is good for families with little ones who want tasty, fairly priced, honest good food in a home from home atmosphere.

The first review goes to the Cleeve Cloud, Cleeve Hill, Gloucestershire.

We held a large family gathering here to celebrate our daughter's christening in their skittle alley come function room recently. Instead of the usual three kids we had nearer 10. A big test!

And here's what we thought:

Gravy Goodness
To me the most crucial part of a roast dinner and top of my review criteria...

Tasty but a little thin.
3/5

Menu options for grown ups:

Three roasts were on offer, each with tasty trimmings; chicken and stuffing, pork and crackling and beef and yorkies. All came with boiled potatoes, crunchy fluffy roasters and shared veg sides.

5/5

Children's choices:

Same as above, only kids sized, sharing the sides of veg. Nice and easy.
4/5.

Veg variety:
All good roasts are made up of more than meat and two veg! Oh, and tender carrots, not crudités or baby mush...

Huge veg side dishes with scrummy creamy leaks, cauliflower cheese, buttery cabbage, peppery swede mash and seasoned carrots. All served piping hot and cooked to perfection. This really was the gold star of the roast for me.
5/5

How good's the pud:

A cheese board and choice of coffee nicely complemented a selection of British pudding favourites for both adults and kids. Three flavours of ice cream too. The warm fudge brownie was a favourite.
3/5

Kid's things:

Ample outdoor space being atop the highest hill in Gloucestershire. Although I don't think the groundsmen appreciated the impromptu kids footie match on the putting green.

You can close yourself off in the function room, and the skittle alley shute and balls provided a great giant marble run game for the kids.
3/5

Changing children:

Being a golf club it has changing rooms with showers (although thankfully we had no need for them this visit!) and lots of space. Didn't spot a change mat, station or nappy bin on my visit though.
3/5

Highchair happiness:

Two available. Could do with updating.
2/5

The price's right:
Feeding a family of five is an expensive business, help us out here...

Straight forward, really reasonable prices at £6.95 per adult roast, £3.95 per child roast and £3.95 per pud. Drinks were reasonably priced too.
5/5

Parking:
A biggie for us, needing ample space for the van, and a short distance to cart changing paraphernalia,  buggies, toys and not forgetting children...

It's a golf club. And popular. So even though it has a huge car park it's always packed and trying to find a space can turn into a bit of a game of cat and mouse.
2/5

Warm welcomes:

Staff were super efficient and smiley even though they were super busy. (Not only did they have our large party to serve but the rest of the restaurant was packed too.)

The club house itself is a bit dated, but in my opinion this adds a bit of 'vintage' charm.
4/5

Total score:
39/55

Final Sunday Roast Post Review:
A straight up tasty home cooked roast in pleasant surroundings which offers REAL value for money, which is very rare these days.

We will be visiting and eating again!

Getting rubbed up the wrong way

Just what is it with our darn van?

We really have a love hate relationship. We love the van, but it seems to hate us.

It just feels like every other month there is another thing that needs to be fixed or is going to cost us more money then we bargained for.

It's beginning to really rub me up the wrong way.

This month I went to get a quote for bumper colour coding and found out that the rear bumper crash bar has had a whack, buckled up and is ever so slightly making our back doors rub the bumper. This means, without being fixed, our nice new shiny red bumper would get a great big dirty scratch from the doors rubbing.

I've had enough of bloody rubbing recently.

As you may know from my previous post here, our new super size 20 inch alloys are rubbing VERY LOUDLY when on full lock.

I forgot about the full lock thing the other day when trying to execute a swift three point turn in the road to avoid some roadworks and BRRRRRRRRRRRRR. 

Wouldn't be so bad if I was on my own, but I had an audience of a gaggle of road workers hanging around on their tea break who promptly turned around to see what was making the noise.

'It's me!' I smile sheepishly through the open window. 'Ahhhh. Big wheels' one replies as he puts his hands up, gesticulating like he just caught a big fish.

This means I now can't do three point turns and instead have to make pigeon point pirouettes, which frankly makes me look like a bit of a tit.

After being delivered the bad news of the bust bumper bar at the paintwork shop I had to get out of a really tight spot surrounded by big machinery outside a work depot on the packed industrial estate. And yet again a gaggle of road workers who were yet again on their tea break.

I provided them with great entertainment inching forward and back, then forward and back, then forward and back about 16 times in what could easily have been accomplished in six turns using full lock.

I wound down the window and employed the same gesture of the previous road worker. 'I can drive, promise! Can't use full lock. BIG wheels.'

I am hoping the rubbing will stop, in all senses of the word, but we have got the dreaded MOT next week. Oh, and I swear I can smell raw diesel when sat in the passenger seat, even when the window is up.

This can mean one of two things.

1. There is something wrong with the van. Again.

2. I am pregnant. Again.

Keep your fingers crossed the van sails through its MOT. And that I won't have to upgrade the van and change the blog to T6 for 6! (The husband has mixed feelings about this).