Christmas, the perfect time of year for camping.
Think about it; Boxing Day bus services end pretty early in the day. And it can be a real pain to get a cab late at night.
Fortunately, when faced with a long, cold walk home last night, there was an alternative.
While waiting for a bus after work last night, I noticed that the scaffolding (which has been there for months) around the railway bridge was being taken down.
It all looked good in the snow.
We went to our first gig in a while the other night. The surprisingly good Kiefer Sutherland.
Surprisingly because I’d assumed that music was a bit of a hobby for him. Sometimes it’s good to be wrong.
You know, my love of public transport is beginning to wane.
As usual, I locked up with four minutes before my bus home was due. We have a live display, so bus times are pretty accurate.
And then the bus disappeared from the display. This has happened before, so I hung around a bit. But the bus didn’t reappear on the display as it has done sometimes in the past.
So I’m now having a pint of our rather excellent new house beer. Waiting for the next bus (01:05).
You know, I resisted the pressure to bring a hound into our lives for a very long time.
And then, after beer, I gave in one night.
I don’t regret it for a second. I love this girl.
So, we bought a big tent garage thing.
Despite sandbags and bolts (a nightmare to drill into tarmac), the thing was on the point of taking off today.
So the decision was taken to undo the 3-4 hours’ assembly and dismantle it.
Anyone want a 6m long flying garage?
It was lovely to have a couple of guys from my last proper job in our bar tonight.
A night off, so here’s a picture of a dog with her head out of a campervan window.
I’ve been thinking a lot about the future lately.
People who know me might be surprised to hear that I don’t see this cool little bar as being part of that.
Getting this place open was one of the biggest challenges I’ve faced. Largely because I did most of the physical labour as, well as the obvious multitude of bits of red tape, formalities and other such rubbish.
In many ways, getting the ‘bus up and running was pretty close to work I’d done when I had a proper job. While the bar was stupidly hard work, it was hugely rewarding. Particularly when there was a real outcome and a feeling of I did this.
And maybe that’s what I liked about the last few projects in my old job. Once something was delivered, the buzz was over. The inevitable live running politics took over and a new job came along.
So why would Microbus be any different? I’m at the point when, although I love the place, the buzz is already a distant memory and the people shit has started to encroach on the joy in something new.
This stuff’s so frustrating.
So, two years late, Glastonbury happened this year.
While a slow and expensive form of travel, the van made a huge difference to the experience. It wasn’t just down to sleeping in a bed (sort of); there was a lot more space than on the campsites and no need to carry everything from a car park.
This was going to be my last Glastonbury, but I’m already wondering about the chance of a ticket next year.
Unfortunately, the van’s new oil leak became something of an issue as we drove through Bristol.
This resulted in a large amount of smoke and the need to have a lengthy break to let the engine cool down.
Oh, and a wing mirror fell off.