On the Road

The more I try to do, the less I achieve

Back on the road!

We were well into the second week of June when I slowly realised that I had not produced a newsletter at the end of May. For that, dear reader, I apologise.

You see, I was trying to do so much that I barely achieved anything. It’s only when I do nothing that the magic starts to happen. Allow me to explain.

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I don’t know about you, but I’ve not yet met one person for whom that Third Lockdown over the winter of 2021 wasn’t a tough time.

What made Lockdown even worse for me was not having a caravan. My Airstream is still stuck in Germany. It’s renovated and ready to go - as it has been since Christmas - but I’ve not been able to collect it. Angela Merkel doesn’t look likely to ease the travel ban from the UK any time soon. 

I’d made the decision to take the Airstream to the established experts in Germany early in 2019. I was based in the South East of England, the UK was in the EU, the closure of international borders within Europe was unthinkable, and my living in the Outer Hebrides was still a long-standing pipe dream. Six months were lost waiting for a slot in Airstream Germany’s busy schedule, followed by another twelve months lost to an unforeseen chassis repair. By the time I finally got the caravan to Germany, over 18 months later than originally desired, the world had changed dramatically. The situation continues to change on a daily basis.  

The lack of freedom that a leisure vehicle allows has hit me hard. Touring is in my blood. While I love living in my beautiful house in a beautiful place, I’ve found it tough being without a caravan or a van. I was not even able to escape for a night or two to a neighbouring island. 

May 17th arrived and I had the opportunity to go stay with my family for the first time since August. Bailey of Bristol kindly agreed lend me a caravan half way through my trip so I could finally tour again. My few remaining brain cells were tasked with planning, executing, and enjoying the trip. 

Expect the Unexpected

The drive down to Kent, before collecting the caravan, became increasingly stressful as we ventured further South. 

You’d think that it would be the Uist to Skye ferry that would be the most precarious part of the journey, wouldn’t you? After all, the weather in the Hebrides can be wild at times, although maybe not as often as folk think. Meanwhile, the South East of England has a mild, gentle climate and solid communication networks, right? 

The ferry trip transpired to be as smooth as silk; punctual, comfortable, and reliable. 

However, once Dougal and I reached Cambridge Services en route to Kent after stopping off in hotels on the way, I checked the news to see that the Dartford Crossing was jammed up. High winds had caused the closure of the QE2 Bridge. The queues were about two hours long, and alternative routes were already congested. We’d been travelling for five days and had left North Yorkshire early that morning. I was so tired, I just didn’t have what it took to battle the traffic any longer. 

The weather was too bad to while away a few hours in a park with Dougal and let the congestion dissipate. The fact I had Dougal with me prevented us seeking shelter in a shopping centre or a motorway cafe. I wasn’t after leaving my car with all my stuff in it parked up unattended in a remote place. We were absolutely stuck, and I was overwhelmed with fatigue. 

‘If only I had my caravan!’ I lamented. We could drift down an A road until we found a decent lay-by, park up, settle in, have something to eat, nap, phone the site to make late arrival arrangements, and continue our journey later in the evening. 

Instead, I booked us in to a nearby Holiday Inn Express which I knew accepted dogs. Dinner was a cobbled-together sandwich as the weather was too grim to go out and seek food, and the room had no cooking facilities. It was a warm, clean, comfortable room, but it was expensive and it was another day lost. 

He’s not smiling. He never smiles.

Oh, the irony of the ease of passage from the Outer Hebrides, and the impossibility of getting to the South East of England because of bad weather in May! 

Tearing about, trying do too much, and not being in full control of my diet led to a migraine that week. And another the following week. 

Yet once I had a caravan, got away from the over crowded, hot and sweaty parts of the UK, and scheduled in days off from travelling and filming, my health improved and returned to its usual good state. 

Bailey’s little Discovery D4-2 blew me away. That’s another story for another time. 

‘My’ Bailey Discovery D4-2 at Crowborough Camping and Caravanning Club Site

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Productivity is not a healthy measuring tool

I do not subscribe to Productivity Culture. I don’t feel it is right to measure our self-worth in terms of achievements or productivity. Doing nothing and embracing boredom, rather than constantly picking up our phones for a dopamine hit, is a good thing. 

Having reflected on the two parts of my trip - the tearing about before collecting the caravan, then the more relaxed part (including off days) with the caravan, I noticed a real irony. 

It seems that the less I try to do, the more I actually achieve. 

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Postscript

It’s only as I went back to check my previous newsletter that I realised that this one says pretty much the same as that one - only in a different way. However, this shows that I still don’t always get it right, and no matter how old or experienced we are, we are always learning!

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How to Support Streamlining

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Thank you.