Heavy rain imprisons us. We have been locked in our little box for thirty-six hours now, trying to judge gaps between downpours to take the dogs for essential toilet breaks. The one saving grace is our sea view, which is revealed to us when the rain briefly eases off to a steady downpour.
We lay last night in the drop-down bed above the driver and passenger seats listening to windblown rain bouncing off our thin plastic roof like handfuls of thrown gravel. Thunder crashed and lightning flashed, but we were warm and dry in our duvet cocoon. Getting out of bed this morning was less pleasant.
Our Hymer is a cold home if we park facing the wrong direction. We always try to stop port side windward. The motorhomes weakness is its starboard side. There’s a large vent behind the fridge and another behind the oven. A gale blows through both of them unless the vents are sheltered, as it does through what’s left of our rear bedroom window.
Last summer, I reversed the Hymer along a narrow passage at a boatyard through towering sailboats on steel cradles. I should have checked for open windows first. Cynthia and I taped the shattered pieces together, ordered another through our Dutch motorhome mechanic and waited, and waited, and then waited some more. The old Hymer window needs making to order. We’ve been waiting for the replacement since last August.
In the meantime, wind whistles through untaped cracks and through the fridge and cooker vents. We parked facing the sea for the view. The price we pay for the sight of crashing surf as we eat our meals is a draughty home. Our internal thermometers are set differently. While Cynthia works her early morning magic in front of a flaming stove dressed in a light summer top, I sit still as I type, exposed to a constant breeze which chills me to the bone. Sometimes I have to resort to wearing a fleece hat indoors, occasionally a coat too.
I suppose a possible solution is to get off my fat and lazy arse and give Cynthia a hand with cooking breakfast. I could, but she does such a good job. It’s a shame to disturb her.