Ever wondered what happens to caravans when they are no longer needed? No – me neither. But I think I’ve got the answer anyway...
What happens to caravans when they become surplus to requirements? Perhaps they lost their off-white shine when a newer version arrived with a shower you could actually turn round in. Or maybe the tiny fridge and inadequate heating just become too much for their owners to endure any longer. That business with having to turn the table into the base for a bed always seemed hard work for an uncomfortable night’s sleep, too.We’ve all seen scrap yards, piled high with cars that have literally reached the end of their journey, but there doesn’t seem to be an equivalent for the light beige boxes on wheels when they lose their plots. Where are the caravan graveyards?
What happens to the Elites, Rangers, Crusaders, Challengers and all those other ridiculously named mobile-dwellings when they are no longer needed, either to stay in, or to clog up A-roads on Bank Holiday weekends?
True, Top Gear have previously attempted to destroy them at every available opportunity but, despite their best efforts, there are clearly a lot of them still about. You can see them huddling together in fields everywhere.
Whilst spending an inordinately large amount of time in a different strain of mobile tin can recently (the ones on rails), I had ample time to gaze longingly out of the window as the countryside moving by at varying speeds ranging from fast-ish to crawling-for-no-apparent-reason.
After a while, I started noticing a distinct pattern forming between equine activity and ancient caravanage. Pretty soon I was able to predict, with reasonable accuracy, when either a horse, or a caravan, was about to appear, fleetingly, through the glass. It seems that all the unloved caravans make their last journey to the farthest corner of a field, or tucked away at the back of stables, where they cower, lonely and forgotten, with just their horsey pals for company.
Perhaps someone in possession of a pair of jodhpurs and a whip can enlighten me as to what happens in these formerly mobile palaces. Are they changing rooms? Do you keep your tack in there? Maybe they’re being used to provide shelter from the rain by moist riders, or as somewhere to eat a sandwich, or brew up a cuppa. Keeping the hay dry, even?
I’m pretty sure horses are too big to get in through the doors, even if they could handle the door latches. They would probably find the headroom inadequate too.
But it does appear that, in at least 84% of the times I saw a horse, a caravan with varying degrees of green creeping over it’s surface was lurking in the background. Should people frequenting caravan parks be concerned? Not according to my calculations. Where more than one caravan congregated, horses were largely absent. Fascinating, don’t you think?
Yes, it was a long journey and I had drunk a lot of coffee.
This post first appeared as my "Thank grumpy it's Friday" column, in the North West Evening Mail, on the 1st of April 2016, where it was retitled as "I have solved caravan riddle".
Yes, I'm back! After 2 whole weeks off work, and taking the decision not to do any studying, I'm rested, relaxed, and firmly over-caffeinated, and probably several pounds heavier, too. Going back to work tomorrow should neatly eliminate the first two, shortly after looking in my InBox for the first time in 16 days...
As with all my favourite columns, this one is a factual account of something that genuinely did happen. On the journey from Cumbria to Cornwall, I had plenty of time to gaze out of the train window, and did notice decaying caravans in the corner of fields, which often seemed to have horses in them (the fields, not the caravans. That would just be silly. What's wrong with you? Tsk.)
Following this train of thought, I started looking out for horses/paddocks/stables/hurdles and, sure enough, almost every time there seemed to be a forlorn caravan tucked away somewhere.
I hand my research results to the nation, so that those that follow me may carry it forward and use it for the greater good.
(Remarkably, I'm STILL listening to those Argentinian ELO radio shows. Number 20 now, so nearly there...)
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