After 5 years of planning and 7 months of preparation the day finally came for us to load the Jeep and head for Germany to collect our brand new Hobby Premium caravan. There is a rule of physics and mathematics that says - the weight of a towed caravan should be no more than 85% of the towing vehicle. So most sensible people choose a caravan that weighs a little bit less than their car. Knowing nothing of this and having set our hearts on (and paid for) a German, new model, high spec, twin axel, 6.5 meter ‘Wohnwagen’, how we were going to move it around had not entered our heads. Frankly, it came as a shock to find that most vehicles on the road, except lorries, were not up to the job.
After many fruitless visits to secondhand car lots we were leaving one at Waltham Cross when Wendy saw a big black 4 x 4 with leather seats parked in the corner. The Arthur Daley on duty said ‘Yes, that’s a 7 seat Jeep Commander, that will tow your caravan alright, but it’s just been sold. The hunt was on! We eventually found ‘Jonah’ (it’s All Black, big, powerful, and it’s eventually going to New Zealand), at a farm in Gloucestershire where it had been towing the equally large family caravan. A price was agreed and after a service, MOT and thorough deep clean, Jonah was ready for Europe.
With 5 of the 7 seats folded down there was enough space (just) for personal belongings, equipment to kit out the caravan and 2 fold-up bikes. At 10.30am we waved goodbye and set off for the Channel Tunnel. It was our first trip on the shuttle. It’s a boring journey really but it was cheaper than the ferry and of course much quicker.
After the initial butterflies of driving on the wrong side of the road we soon settled down to what the RAC website said would be a comfortable 3 hour motorway journey to Venlo on the Dutch/German border. Twenty years have passed since we last made this journey. Our memory was of an efficient, well managed and reliable road network. Well how things have changed. I’d never seen so many lorries of all different nationalities. Not just EU but Turks, Russians and Ukrainians as well. I’d also forgotten that all these motorways had only 2 lanes so there was quite a crush by the time we got to Belgium. The inevitable happened and we ended up at a stand still due to what we later found out was a serious accident that blocked the motorway near Eindhoven. After about an hour we noticed cars turning onto the hard shoulder and driving away. Wondering what they knew that we didn’t, we guessed they had heard something on their car radios and that the prognosis was not good. We could see no police cars so decided to follow them. After 300 metres we came to an exit and with a clever detour planned by my co-driver with the aid of a map, not a ‘Sat Nav’, we were on our way again. By the time we arrived at out Dutch Guest House we were a little ‘saddle sore’ to say the least. But it’s funny how a few beers or wines and a plate of hot food can make the World seem an entirely different place. This and a good night’s sleep prepared us, fortunately, for the trial of collecting and towing the caravan the next day.
Thirty years had passed since we had towed a caravan. That one was half the size of the Hobby we were about to collect and had ended up in pieces on the Autobahn after an unfortunate ‘snake’ which had got out of control. So it was with a certain amount of trepidation that we crossed the border into Germany to collect the caravan. We knew we had to take things forward in small steps so we devised a ‘cunning plan’. We would take the caravan the 20 km from the dealers in Moenchengladbach to a campsite we knew from our previous time, which was by the beautiful lake Hariksee, and then slowly check and practice everything before we moved further afield . The British Army have a maxim which says ‘effective reconnaisance is seldom wasted’, so we thought - lets check it out first, without the caravan in tow. Our trusty map had got us from Calais to Venlo but was too small in scale to navigate the lanes of the ‘Swalmtal’. So we switched on the Jeep’s Sat Nav which covers the whole of Europe.
We dutifully followed every instruction which was clear and concise and came in plenty of time. We went through villages large and small and finally down a narrow lane which brought us to the lake edge with no campsite to be seen. Fortunately, Wendy was able to communicate with a local man who happened to be out walking his dog. ‘Wo ist die Camp platz, bitte?’ cried Wendy from the car window. ‘Welche?’ said he in return. That means - which one? Now it is a fact not well known by Satellite Navigation systems that there are 3 campsites in and around Hariksee. Unfortunately, our system had failed to find any and had just taken us to the lakeside. Fortunately, we were able to find a turning place and find our site at the north end of the lake. If we had the caravan on the back I shudder to think how we would have extricated ourselves. So that is another fact, don’t rely exclusively on your Sat Nav.
The campsite were expecting us and showed us where we could set up so with the help of a tourist map from their office we plotted a route with the widest roads and gentlest bends and set off for P F Joeressen GmbH. After completing the purchasing formalities we were introduced to what was going to be our home for the next 15 months. No photograph or video could have prepared us for the initial impression. It was big. This was no Doctor Who Tardis, where everything was packed into nooks and crannies. It was big on the outside and big on the inside. Neither of us said anything but both later admitted to thinking ‘Have we bitten off more than we can chew?’ But we kept our thoughts to ourselves not wishing to unnerve each other, perhaps because we knew that at this stage there was no turning back.
We were shown around the caravan and its features: the anti-snaking coupling, self adjusting brakes, electric system, under floor heating and of course the all consuming chemical toilet. But the best feature of all was the ‘Mover’. This is a battery powered device which attaches itself to the wheels and moves the caravan forward, backwards or spin the caravan through a complete circle, and all by a hand held remote control. The Mover allows you to hitch the caravan or guide it into the smallest space on the site. Our spirits soared again after a little practice and even Wendy admitted that it was as easy as driving the remote controlled car you meant to give your nephew for Christmas but decided it could wait until his birthday in June.
So having ‘hitched’ our new caravan to Jonah we checked the mirrors, engaged the indicator, took a deep breath and pulled out onto the road. After only 150 metres we hit the first roundabout but by steering wide and taking it slowly we went around just like a seasoned lorry driver. After 20 km of traffic lights, left turns, right turns plus Autobahn Anfahrts and Ausfahrts we reached the campsite. The Euro Soccer Championships were in full swing at the time and we couldn’t help noticing car flags fluttering from what seemed like every second car. Mostly, the Black, Red and Yellow of Germany but there we Dutch, French and Spanish flags and even the red cross of St George. Not wanting to arrive unnoticed, out came the Silver Fern on Black for New Zealand which was hastily attached to the passenger’s window.The entry of a streamlined modern Hobby Premium, towed by a black Jeep with a black and silver flag announced to the locals that, like aliens from space, the Clements had landed!
After many fruitless visits to secondhand car lots we were leaving one at Waltham Cross when Wendy saw a big black 4 x 4 with leather seats parked in the corner. The Arthur Daley on duty said ‘Yes, that’s a 7 seat Jeep Commander, that will tow your caravan alright, but it’s just been sold. The hunt was on! We eventually found ‘Jonah’ (it’s All Black, big, powerful, and it’s eventually going to New Zealand), at a farm in Gloucestershire where it had been towing the equally large family caravan. A price was agreed and after a service, MOT and thorough deep clean, Jonah was ready for Europe.
With 5 of the 7 seats folded down there was enough space (just) for personal belongings, equipment to kit out the caravan and 2 fold-up bikes. At 10.30am we waved goodbye and set off for the Channel Tunnel. It was our first trip on the shuttle. It’s a boring journey really but it was cheaper than the ferry and of course much quicker.
After the initial butterflies of driving on the wrong side of the road we soon settled down to what the RAC website said would be a comfortable 3 hour motorway journey to Venlo on the Dutch/German border. Twenty years have passed since we last made this journey. Our memory was of an efficient, well managed and reliable road network. Well how things have changed. I’d never seen so many lorries of all different nationalities. Not just EU but Turks, Russians and Ukrainians as well. I’d also forgotten that all these motorways had only 2 lanes so there was quite a crush by the time we got to Belgium. The inevitable happened and we ended up at a stand still due to what we later found out was a serious accident that blocked the motorway near Eindhoven. After about an hour we noticed cars turning onto the hard shoulder and driving away. Wondering what they knew that we didn’t, we guessed they had heard something on their car radios and that the prognosis was not good. We could see no police cars so decided to follow them. After 300 metres we came to an exit and with a clever detour planned by my co-driver with the aid of a map, not a ‘Sat Nav’, we were on our way again. By the time we arrived at out Dutch Guest House we were a little ‘saddle sore’ to say the least. But it’s funny how a few beers or wines and a plate of hot food can make the World seem an entirely different place. This and a good night’s sleep prepared us, fortunately, for the trial of collecting and towing the caravan the next day.
Thirty years had passed since we had towed a caravan. That one was half the size of the Hobby we were about to collect and had ended up in pieces on the Autobahn after an unfortunate ‘snake’ which had got out of control. So it was with a certain amount of trepidation that we crossed the border into Germany to collect the caravan. We knew we had to take things forward in small steps so we devised a ‘cunning plan’. We would take the caravan the 20 km from the dealers in Moenchengladbach to a campsite we knew from our previous time, which was by the beautiful lake Hariksee, and then slowly check and practice everything before we moved further afield . The British Army have a maxim which says ‘effective reconnaisance is seldom wasted’, so we thought - lets check it out first, without the caravan in tow. Our trusty map had got us from Calais to Venlo but was too small in scale to navigate the lanes of the ‘Swalmtal’. So we switched on the Jeep’s Sat Nav which covers the whole of Europe.
We dutifully followed every instruction which was clear and concise and came in plenty of time. We went through villages large and small and finally down a narrow lane which brought us to the lake edge with no campsite to be seen. Fortunately, Wendy was able to communicate with a local man who happened to be out walking his dog. ‘Wo ist die Camp platz, bitte?’ cried Wendy from the car window. ‘Welche?’ said he in return. That means - which one? Now it is a fact not well known by Satellite Navigation systems that there are 3 campsites in and around Hariksee. Unfortunately, our system had failed to find any and had just taken us to the lakeside. Fortunately, we were able to find a turning place and find our site at the north end of the lake. If we had the caravan on the back I shudder to think how we would have extricated ourselves. So that is another fact, don’t rely exclusively on your Sat Nav.
The campsite were expecting us and showed us where we could set up so with the help of a tourist map from their office we plotted a route with the widest roads and gentlest bends and set off for P F Joeressen GmbH. After completing the purchasing formalities we were introduced to what was going to be our home for the next 15 months. No photograph or video could have prepared us for the initial impression. It was big. This was no Doctor Who Tardis, where everything was packed into nooks and crannies. It was big on the outside and big on the inside. Neither of us said anything but both later admitted to thinking ‘Have we bitten off more than we can chew?’ But we kept our thoughts to ourselves not wishing to unnerve each other, perhaps because we knew that at this stage there was no turning back.
We were shown around the caravan and its features: the anti-snaking coupling, self adjusting brakes, electric system, under floor heating and of course the all consuming chemical toilet. But the best feature of all was the ‘Mover’. This is a battery powered device which attaches itself to the wheels and moves the caravan forward, backwards or spin the caravan through a complete circle, and all by a hand held remote control. The Mover allows you to hitch the caravan or guide it into the smallest space on the site. Our spirits soared again after a little practice and even Wendy admitted that it was as easy as driving the remote controlled car you meant to give your nephew for Christmas but decided it could wait until his birthday in June.
So having ‘hitched’ our new caravan to Jonah we checked the mirrors, engaged the indicator, took a deep breath and pulled out onto the road. After only 150 metres we hit the first roundabout but by steering wide and taking it slowly we went around just like a seasoned lorry driver. After 20 km of traffic lights, left turns, right turns plus Autobahn Anfahrts and Ausfahrts we reached the campsite. The Euro Soccer Championships were in full swing at the time and we couldn’t help noticing car flags fluttering from what seemed like every second car. Mostly, the Black, Red and Yellow of Germany but there we Dutch, French and Spanish flags and even the red cross of St George. Not wanting to arrive unnoticed, out came the Silver Fern on Black for New Zealand which was hastily attached to the passenger’s window.The entry of a streamlined modern Hobby Premium, towed by a black Jeep with a black and silver flag announced to the locals that, like aliens from space, the Clements had landed!
