If my memory serves me correctly this time last year I had just given one months notice of my intention to leave the employment of Tunstall Healthcare. It was this time twelve months ago that we made the decision to change our lives forever, to embark on an adventure that we could barely believe would actually ever happen, but it did. I have had eleven of the best months of my life and the adventure just keeps on going. Next week sees a new chapter in my life, a new job and a new routine. It comes without the stress of driving anywhere and allows me more than enough free time to do as I wish. This is something I didn’t bank on. I never thought it would be possible for us to live on one wage for so long, never mind be able to afford me the luxury to start part time work. It’s very true what they say ‘you live to your means’. Selling up before we left helped, it enabled us to streamline our finances. We were no longer paying for tax, mot and insurance. I cancelled the ridiculous number of direct debits for things we never used, including the ‘charge’ for having a ‘prestige’ bank account with benefits I had forgotten were included! It’s amazing the things you just continue to pay for just because you don’t get around to canceling them.
In the past few weeks we have further reduced our collection of vehicles. We decided we needed a change. Martyn was getting fed up of the embarrassment of driving a yellow Saxo (I did point out that this is Brighton... Nobody would think anything of a bloke driving a ‘girls’ car down here...!). We also needed a vehicle that could transport Martyns Lambretta back from Yorkshire. Martyn has always liked the Mazda ‘Bongo’ cars. They are Japanese imports that convert into motorhomes. Enough room for a bike but not too big to drive to work everyday. After many internet hours and a trip to Chichester we decided the Bongo wasn’t for us, although I did like the name...! We were introduced to a Nissan Elgrand by one of the Bongo dealers and really fell for the look. They were much chunkier than the Bongo and commanded a bit more respect. More importantly they came with leather seats. They also came with a price tag that I wasn’t all that comfortable with and after further research I finally found the perfect vehicle, the Nissan Largo. Slightly smaller than the Elgrand but with a much better price tag! The nearest one was in Bournemouth a mere 80+ miles away. I thought we were onto a winner. I had researched the prices up and down the country and this seemed like a fair price. We were worried we might lose it so Martyn rang the company and told them we were interested and would be along the next weekend to see it. We were childishly excited at the prospect of buying a new toy and didn’t even mind the early start on a Saturday morning. The company selling the vehicle looked well established and respectable. Our hope was that they would take my Saxo in part exchange to save taking it back to Brighton and trying to sell it privately. By the time we arrived in Bournemouth I was desperately hoping they would take it off my hands. It was a dreadful journey with tailbacks and bad drivers. The Saxo has never been the most comfortable of cars and we were more than ready for a stretch by the time we got there. Straight away we pulled into the wrong forecourt. We had found the town ok and found a sign for the garage however it appeared they didn’t own most of the forecourt just a tiny bit to one side. Ummm, first worry...! We parked the car and got out. the Largo was taking pride of place in the middle of the ‘forecourt’ and it looked as though they had been trying to wash it, with some grubby water in grubby bucket. All the doors were open ready for us to view the soon to be ours pride of the road. I hid my initial disappointment. The stickers on the side were faded and some of the paint on the doors was peeling off. The inside looked great though, as long as you didn’t get in, shut the doors and breathe! Martyn seemed happy though and that was the main thing. It took around four hours to seal the somewhat ‘interesting’ deal, the details of which should never be published. The Saxo found a new home ending my final link with Tunstall. The car was bought as transport to and from there and it held many memories good and bad about the place. It was good for me to be able to finally say goodbye and move on. It was also a massive relief not to have to drive it back to Brighton to be honest. As we pulled out of the forecourt in our new ‘bus’ we waved goodbye to the guys there and I couldn’t help but feel slightly anxious about the whole deal. They seemed glad to see us go! One other thing struck me as we lurched out onto the road, not just the strange knocking sound from underneath the car but the disgusting smell. We literally drove back to Brighton with our heads out of the window. I barely dared to touch anything inside in case I caught some deadly disease. Whoever had owned this vehicle was not big on cleanliness! We decided the first thing we needed to do was get it cleaned. We pulled into a valeting shop in Lancing, just outside of Brighton and got a quote. The very nice chap looked at the bus and shook his head. I thought he was going to decline the job, instead he said “Bring it round when we open at 9 am, give me four maybe five hours” “How much?” “£80.00” After spending two hours smelling in the aroma of the stinky car we agreed it was a fair price.
Bright and early on a very sunny Sunday morning we set off for Lancing. We had to go the long way round because of the Brighton marathon, how inconsiderate of them to close the road we needed!! We arrived dead on time and left the bus with a different chap which didn’t bode well. He looked and laughed and said “It will be three to four hours mate!”. Our precious new purchase was left in his capable hands as we headed into Shoreham on foot to find some breakfast. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and we walked via the house boats and over the bridge. If all went to plan we would be back to pick up the bus just in time. We had left our number with them so they could ring us when they had finished. We found a lovely place for breakfast and had a good look around Shoreham including the yacht club before making our way back towards the valeters. It was around midday and we decided to walk up the beach. I had my suncream at the ready and thought I was well prepared. We discovered a lagoon we didn’t know about and a little sailing club. We sat on the beach for a while before deciding we needed to get out of the sun. We walked and walked and walked in the search for a cafe without success. We found a shack selling drinks but all the table in the shade were full. 1pm came and went then 2pm. We had walked past the place a number of occasions and noting that work was still in progress left them to it. By 3pm we really couldn’t stay in the sun any longer, we went round to see if they were nearly done. “Nearly done” The chap said. “It’s been harder than I thought, the owner must have been a smoker and dog owner”. ‘You don’t say’ I thought to myself. “Why don’t you go sit on the beach a while, it’s just up there, I’ll ring you when I’ve done, about ten minutes” ‘You mean that beach we’ve been sat on all afternoon getting cremated?’ I thought. He was oblivious to the crimson skin we were both now sporting. We had no choice but to leave him to it. Ten minutes didn’t sound too bad. An hour later we returned, we had still not received a phone call. We couldn’t wait any longer. Martyn was starting to look particularly peaky and my head was feeling very burnt. Note so self, always take a hat out with you. They found us some chairs and it was clear the chap was under pressure now. The guy we had seen the day before had taken over the job and it soon became apparent why it was taking so long. He had a hangover! It seems that he had decided to take a trip to London the night before and had been called in when we arrived. I’m not sure when he began the valet but he obviously didn’t expect us to turn up. As five o’clock approached so did closing time. The other guys pitched in to help so they could finish for the day. It was an epic! We finally got away just after five. I had missed the Grand Prix and was now sporting a red stripy tan complete with burnt ears. Those of you with good memories will remember that burning my ears is not a new thing for me and yet I never learn to apply suncream. I spent the next few days sporting ears that glowed in the dark, a red nose, shoulders and scalp. While Martyn sported a fabulous pair of bright red arms. There was one good thing though, the bus now smelled much better.
All in all it has been an expensive few weeks. Luckily the knocking noise was easily dealt with courtesy of a couple of new, relatively cheap bushes. The bus has taken us to Yorkshire and back complete with Lambretta. It has survived the Pennine hills and the M1 and more importantly is the comfiest thing I have ever sat in. I have not yet been brave enough to drive it but I guess I will at some point.
On a sadder note we finally said goodbye to the Herald. It has been a part of our lives since we were eighteen but had become difficult to keep. It needed lots of work and we don’t have the space or the money to do it now. It was a sad day but one that needed to happen so that we can move on. It has gone to a good place we think and to a very nice chap who seems to know what he is doing.
So starts a new chapter in this adventure. A new job and a new bus! We are hoping the bus will enable us to explore the coastline down here a bit more. The seats convert into a bed so we can set off in it at the weekends if we fancy. Martyn is even talking about taking up surfing... That should be interesting...!
In the past few weeks we have further reduced our collection of vehicles. We decided we needed a change. Martyn was getting fed up of the embarrassment of driving a yellow Saxo (I did point out that this is Brighton... Nobody would think anything of a bloke driving a ‘girls’ car down here...!). We also needed a vehicle that could transport Martyns Lambretta back from Yorkshire. Martyn has always liked the Mazda ‘Bongo’ cars. They are Japanese imports that convert into motorhomes. Enough room for a bike but not too big to drive to work everyday. After many internet hours and a trip to Chichester we decided the Bongo wasn’t for us, although I did like the name...! We were introduced to a Nissan Elgrand by one of the Bongo dealers and really fell for the look. They were much chunkier than the Bongo and commanded a bit more respect. More importantly they came with leather seats. They also came with a price tag that I wasn’t all that comfortable with and after further research I finally found the perfect vehicle, the Nissan Largo. Slightly smaller than the Elgrand but with a much better price tag! The nearest one was in Bournemouth a mere 80+ miles away. I thought we were onto a winner. I had researched the prices up and down the country and this seemed like a fair price. We were worried we might lose it so Martyn rang the company and told them we were interested and would be along the next weekend to see it. We were childishly excited at the prospect of buying a new toy and didn’t even mind the early start on a Saturday morning. The company selling the vehicle looked well established and respectable. Our hope was that they would take my Saxo in part exchange to save taking it back to Brighton and trying to sell it privately. By the time we arrived in Bournemouth I was desperately hoping they would take it off my hands. It was a dreadful journey with tailbacks and bad drivers. The Saxo has never been the most comfortable of cars and we were more than ready for a stretch by the time we got there. Straight away we pulled into the wrong forecourt. We had found the town ok and found a sign for the garage however it appeared they didn’t own most of the forecourt just a tiny bit to one side. Ummm, first worry...! We parked the car and got out. the Largo was taking pride of place in the middle of the ‘forecourt’ and it looked as though they had been trying to wash it, with some grubby water in grubby bucket. All the doors were open ready for us to view the soon to be ours pride of the road. I hid my initial disappointment. The stickers on the side were faded and some of the paint on the doors was peeling off. The inside looked great though, as long as you didn’t get in, shut the doors and breathe! Martyn seemed happy though and that was the main thing. It took around four hours to seal the somewhat ‘interesting’ deal, the details of which should never be published. The Saxo found a new home ending my final link with Tunstall. The car was bought as transport to and from there and it held many memories good and bad about the place. It was good for me to be able to finally say goodbye and move on. It was also a massive relief not to have to drive it back to Brighton to be honest. As we pulled out of the forecourt in our new ‘bus’ we waved goodbye to the guys there and I couldn’t help but feel slightly anxious about the whole deal. They seemed glad to see us go! One other thing struck me as we lurched out onto the road, not just the strange knocking sound from underneath the car but the disgusting smell. We literally drove back to Brighton with our heads out of the window. I barely dared to touch anything inside in case I caught some deadly disease. Whoever had owned this vehicle was not big on cleanliness! We decided the first thing we needed to do was get it cleaned. We pulled into a valeting shop in Lancing, just outside of Brighton and got a quote. The very nice chap looked at the bus and shook his head. I thought he was going to decline the job, instead he said “Bring it round when we open at 9 am, give me four maybe five hours” “How much?” “£80.00” After spending two hours smelling in the aroma of the stinky car we agreed it was a fair price.
Bright and early on a very sunny Sunday morning we set off for Lancing. We had to go the long way round because of the Brighton marathon, how inconsiderate of them to close the road we needed!! We arrived dead on time and left the bus with a different chap which didn’t bode well. He looked and laughed and said “It will be three to four hours mate!”. Our precious new purchase was left in his capable hands as we headed into Shoreham on foot to find some breakfast. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining and we walked via the house boats and over the bridge. If all went to plan we would be back to pick up the bus just in time. We had left our number with them so they could ring us when they had finished. We found a lovely place for breakfast and had a good look around Shoreham including the yacht club before making our way back towards the valeters. It was around midday and we decided to walk up the beach. I had my suncream at the ready and thought I was well prepared. We discovered a lagoon we didn’t know about and a little sailing club. We sat on the beach for a while before deciding we needed to get out of the sun. We walked and walked and walked in the search for a cafe without success. We found a shack selling drinks but all the table in the shade were full. 1pm came and went then 2pm. We had walked past the place a number of occasions and noting that work was still in progress left them to it. By 3pm we really couldn’t stay in the sun any longer, we went round to see if they were nearly done. “Nearly done” The chap said. “It’s been harder than I thought, the owner must have been a smoker and dog owner”. ‘You don’t say’ I thought to myself. “Why don’t you go sit on the beach a while, it’s just up there, I’ll ring you when I’ve done, about ten minutes” ‘You mean that beach we’ve been sat on all afternoon getting cremated?’ I thought. He was oblivious to the crimson skin we were both now sporting. We had no choice but to leave him to it. Ten minutes didn’t sound too bad. An hour later we returned, we had still not received a phone call. We couldn’t wait any longer. Martyn was starting to look particularly peaky and my head was feeling very burnt. Note so self, always take a hat out with you. They found us some chairs and it was clear the chap was under pressure now. The guy we had seen the day before had taken over the job and it soon became apparent why it was taking so long. He had a hangover! It seems that he had decided to take a trip to London the night before and had been called in when we arrived. I’m not sure when he began the valet but he obviously didn’t expect us to turn up. As five o’clock approached so did closing time. The other guys pitched in to help so they could finish for the day. It was an epic! We finally got away just after five. I had missed the Grand Prix and was now sporting a red stripy tan complete with burnt ears. Those of you with good memories will remember that burning my ears is not a new thing for me and yet I never learn to apply suncream. I spent the next few days sporting ears that glowed in the dark, a red nose, shoulders and scalp. While Martyn sported a fabulous pair of bright red arms. There was one good thing though, the bus now smelled much better.
All in all it has been an expensive few weeks. Luckily the knocking noise was easily dealt with courtesy of a couple of new, relatively cheap bushes. The bus has taken us to Yorkshire and back complete with Lambretta. It has survived the Pennine hills and the M1 and more importantly is the comfiest thing I have ever sat in. I have not yet been brave enough to drive it but I guess I will at some point.
On a sadder note we finally said goodbye to the Herald. It has been a part of our lives since we were eighteen but had become difficult to keep. It needed lots of work and we don’t have the space or the money to do it now. It was a sad day but one that needed to happen so that we can move on. It has gone to a good place we think and to a very nice chap who seems to know what he is doing.
So starts a new chapter in this adventure. A new job and a new bus! We are hoping the bus will enable us to explore the coastline down here a bit more. The seats convert into a bed so we can set off in it at the weekends if we fancy. Martyn is even talking about taking up surfing... That should be interesting...!
