Unforgettable Embrace (14 page)

Chapter 20

Rachel sat in the campervan, looking out the window, admiring the beautiful view before her. She had taken the plunge and put all her belongings in storage at her sister's house and decided to travel around Ireland in a lovely campervan that Liz's father had sold her for a reasonable price. It was a 1995 CI Riviera campervan, coach built Fiat Ducato drive train, to be precise, in very good condition. Rachel liked its layout, because it had seating at both ends and could sleep up to five people. She needed the extra space for when her family and friends came to visit and she didn't want to feel too claustrophobic when she was there by herself. The campervan had two double beds and one bunk bed. She knew her nephew, Simon, would love sleeping in the bunk.

There was a side bathroom with cassette toilet and shower as well as a cooker and three way refrigerator with freezer. Liz's dad had even fitted black-out blinds and fly screens for her, for which Rachel was very grateful as she had a morbid fear of insects, particularly the flying variety, and she didn't look forward to the thought of being eaten alive by midges. The campervan had hot and cold water which was handy as she didn't really relish the prospect of having cold showers in the freezing winter mornings.

Jen and Liz had bought her an awning as a house/campervan warming present, which would come in handy if she wanted to travel abroad in the summer and needed some shade, not really a necessity in Irela
nd, considering most of the summers were a wash-out. It even had a bike rack on the back; all she needed now was a bicycle. Liz's dad sold her the campervan for a discount price. He'd had it on the market for €15,200 but sold it to Rachel for an even €14,000 which, when combined with the sale of her mini and savings she could just about afford.

Rachel was absolutely thrilled with her new home on wheels and the freedom it gave her. She'd considered travelling around Ireland in her car and staying in cheap guest houses or hostels, but she settled on buying a campervan instead, because she didn't want to feel restricted in any way. She'd felt restricted and confined for too long and all she wanted now was the freedom of her campervan and the open road.

Buying the campervan had meant selling her beloved mini, but it was a compromise she was willing if a little sad to make. She'd even given her motor home a name, “Navigator” and designed a special sticker for it. The design was a compass with a map of the world underneath it, and “Navigator” emblazoned across the front in Italics. Her little campervan would hopefully navigate her to a new part of her life, at least that was the thinking behind the name and she believed it would inspire her to adventure and exploration.

Sometimes, Rachel couldn't believe that she had swapped her previously luxurious, safe life and modern apartment with all its modern conveniences for a life of unpredictability and a mobile home. She'd been living in the campervan for two weeks and was loving every minute of it, well most of it. Occasionally she longed for the creature comforts of her apartment, the ease of flicking a switch and having a roaring (electric) fire, the pleasure of being able to flush the toilet and not having to constantly make do with a public toilet and not having to wonder where she could empty her rubbish bin. There were very few public rubbish bins in some parts of Ireland and Rachel often had to store her rubbish until she found one on her route. Water was readily available at service stations, for which she was grateful, and the water quality in Ireland was of high quality, which was one less hassle. Sometimes she treated herself to bottled water, but it wasn't a necessity as she could barely tell the difference between tap and bottled water anyway.

She had made some simple finishing touches to the campervan to make it feel more homely. She had framed photos of her niece and nephew nailed to the walls and her mother bought her a television with a combined DVD player which her brother had fixed to hang from the ceiling. She had her internet and laptop as well as her mobile phone so she felt connected to the world, as connected as she wanted to be for now anyway. Her brother had bought her a solar panel and a wind turbine which were excellent for recharging the batteries and he'd even installed an inverter so she could recharge the batteries whilst driving.

Her solar panel used ultra violet light from the sun and the wind turbine used the power of the wind for electricity. So if she used up all the battery power watching television at night, she'd wake up to a full battery in the morning from the wind turbine turning and charging all night. So she had full battery power at all times.

She was very proud of her eco-friendly lifestyle in the campervan. Her friends teased her and called her a hippy, but she preferred the term “new age traveller”. Her new, simpler life made her aware of how much she used to take for granted and she was developing a sense of gratitude for the smallest things.

The best part of life in her campervan was the fact that she could have a different view to wake up to every morning if she wanted. One day she might decide to park overlooking the ocean, the next she might settle down by a lake, surrounded by trees and mountains. It was refreshing and rejuvenating and was helping to mend her weary heart and mind.

She was enjoying life on her own without any distractions. There was no work or friends or family or shops, just herself and the open road. She was beginning to appreciate nature and becoming aware of nature and the seasons. Her life was so much more peaceful away from the hustle and bustle of the city. She was glad to be out of the rat race, and the tedium of office life. The pace of her life had slowed down dramatically. She found herself breathing deeply for the first time in a very long time. The quality of air in the countryside and by the sea was so much fresher than in the city. She'd decided to take a coastal/country route on her trip around Ireland. She was tired of cities.

She went walking in the forest and parks which were abundant in Ireland. It was Autumn, her favourite season and the leaves were starting to change colour. Gorgeous shades of crimson, green and gold dotted the landscape, interspersed with the brown and black of the tree bark. She loved crunching the fallen leaves underfoot; there was something so satisfying about the noise they made.

Even the rain didn't bother her. She loved shutting her campervan door to the outside world, turning on her gas fire to warm the place and cosying up on her sofa with a glass of wine, looking out the window at the ever-changing nature scenes outside. She rarely watched television anymore these days; Mother Nature was far more entertaining. The cold, fresh air of late Autumn was helping to clear the cobwebs from her mind and reminded her that it would soon be Christmas.

Rachel loved Christmas. She adored everything about it. When everyone else was complaining about the Christmas countdown starting earlier and earlier every year, she secretly relished it. It couldn't start early enough for her. She usually started buying presents in June, and couldn't understand those people who went shopping last minute on Christmas Eve.

She always spent Christmas Eve wrapping presents, drinking mulled wine and preparing dinner for the next day. She really liked the smells of cinnamon and apple and of course turkey. She liked the traditional approach to the season and decorated her house in colours of red, black and gold.

She was always the first person among her family and friends to have a tree, of course the biggest, most beautiful tree. She believed in using as much tinsel and cramming as many decorations as possible on to it. Never mind the elegant tree with its decorating themes.

More was definitely more was her philosophy when it came to Christmas decorations. She usually managed to blow the fuses in the apartment, at least three times; she had so many fairy lights draped around the house. She managed to restrain herself from putting up the tree until December first, but if she had her way she'd have it up in November.

She went with her sister's children to see Santa every year, and often got a sneaky turn sitting on Santa's knee, much to her nephew's mortified embarrassment.

“
You're too old and too big to see Santa,” he'd complain, “please don't sit on his knee auntie, you are so embarrassing.”

She didn't care; it was all part of the magic of Christmas for her. Christmas in the campervan would be a simpler affair this year. Obviously she'd have to make a concession on the size of her tree. She'd get a real tree, of course, none of this fake business. It would just have to be a miniature version this year. She still planned on putting lots of decorations all over the campervan and had even considered fixing a Santa Claus to the front.

****

“
This is the life,” Rachel said, raising her glass of wine in a toast, with her sister, “to the simple life.”

“
Simple for you,” Holly said, trying to wrestle her mobile phone from one year old Mia, who had just managed to get her hands on her mother's phone and start dialling random number, shouting “hello, hello” into the receiver. “God knows who she might be phoning,” Holly managed to distract Mia with a doll, and retrieve her mobile.

Rachel had invited Holly and the children to join her on her first road trip around Ireland. They were loving life in the campervan, even though it was a touch on the squashed size, with two adults and two children; they were all having a wonderful time. Rachel was finally starting to unwind from her old life routine of work, look for a new boyfriend, work. It was fun hanging out with the children, total madness at times, but a lot of fun. She was glad to be distracted from her own thoughts and life for a while.

Mia was insisting on practising her walking constantly. She'd struggle to her feet, shakily holding on to her mother's or aunt's knee, and plaintively start saying “walking” until one of them got up and held her hand while she walked around, delighted with herself and her new-found talent. She was on the verge of walking by herself any day now, she just needed that little bit of encouraging help before she finally let go.

Chapter 21

Rachel was thoroughly enjoying life in her campervan. She couldn't believe the different personalities and characters she was meeting on her road trip and the generosity of most people towards her. Everyone she had met so far was friendly and helpful and always willing to stop for a chat. She counted the people in her campervan one rainy evening, all drinking cups of tea and exchanging stories of their own adventures and travels.

There was Camper John as everyone affectionately called him. He was a stocky, bearded man with long, grey waist-length hair. Rachel was amazed at how soft and thick his hair looked, and fleetingly considered asking him what conditioner he used, but she decided against it. Camper John travelled from harbour to harbour around Ireland, picking up work fixing boats here and there.

He knew all the best places to stay and park safely overnight. He gave Rachel lots of tips on where she could refill her water tank and empty her toilet. He was quite a character was Camper John. He'd tried living the so-called typically traditional life; get married, build a house, have children, but after his wife died fifteen years ago he felt too lonely rattling around a big house all by myself without her, as their children had long-since moved away.

He'd dumped the traditional life for an unconventional life on the road. He'd bought an old Mercedes mini bus, stripped it down and rebuilt it as a very cosy, if somewhat untidy campervan, which he now called home. He'd even started a part-time business buying old buses, converting them to campervans and selling them for a decent profit.

“
The simple life is the best life,” John said and Rachel thoroughly agreed with him. John was on the lookout for a “pilgrim”/ girlfriend to share his campervan and asked Rachel to let her friends know he was available. She didn't think Liz or Jen would be overly-enthusiastic about life in a campervan.

They were much too fond of their home comforts. Liz was practically surgically attached to her GHD hair straighteners and Jen was too much of a party girl; a bottle of wine in a battered old truck wouldn't quite cut it for either of them. Besides the fact that Camper John was approaching sixty, Jen was now spoken for and although Liz liked an older man, Rachel thought sixty was probably a touch too old, even for her.

Mike was another friend who Rachel had met on her travels. He was a small, plump man with a shock of bright red hair. He vaguely reminded Rachel of a leprechaun, but he had the most infectious smile of anyone she'd ever met. Mike was the p
roud owner of a 1977 Ford Transit, an original classic collector's item. He'd bought it in 1977 for the equivalent of €7,000 and he said he'd probably get about €5,000 if he sold it now. He lovingly referred to his campervan as “the old girl” and had even christened her “Betsy.” She really was a classic, bright red and cream on the outside, decorated in 1970s style inside. Mike said she still drove like a dream.

It was a timeless vehicle and Rachel fell in love with it as soon as she saw it. She suggested to Mike that they swap campervans and he said he wouldn't part with his old girl for the world. Rachel had a love for all things vintage. She couldn't pass a charity shop without stopping for a quick look inside, much to the embarrassment of her sister, Holly, who “wouldn't be caught dead” even looking in the window. Rachel didn't care; she never knew what hidden treasures she might find. Already she'd found some old, brass figurines which she screwed into her campervan. Her most recent find was a brass welcome plate that said in Irish “cead mile failte” meaning “one hundred thousand welcomes.”