Baltic Wharf - The Arrival

 Our second Dame Shirley Sojourn of 2024 was a return to the lovely Baltic Wharf campsite in Bristol. We were here for a reason. Ian, Chris and Vicky would all be completing in the A J Bell Bristol half marathon. Their first half marathon! They had all been building up to this for months. Vicky had a full plan of how far to run and on which date that could not be deviated from, even during the big family holiday. Ian was running as far and fast as he could in the lead up to it, despite pulling hamstrings and tweaking calves. Chris just did the odd pootle around Moorgate once in a while. 

On the Thursday evening Kathy, Einar and Sam arrived. They were looking after Monty and Amy, and were also on grandma duty. Although Brian was supposed to be coming he had dropped something (no one knows what) on his toe whilst loading the car and had had to delay his departure. Kathy was called into action even before we had left as grandma had run out of cappuccino sachets, despite me having taken her three boxes the day before! 

So, on a very sunny May day, Ian, Chris, Misty and I departed for Bristol, all well prepared for their weekend exertions. 

Chris sat in the front while I sat at the table behind them. I passed Ian a bottle of fizzy water, as usual, then we departed. Who could have foreseen the trouble that one simple act would cause! 

We were steaming along nicely, patting ourselves on the back as we turned onto the M42. The M1 southbound was closed and the queue stretched until just after that junction. Phew. As we laughed and joked about it an huge insect slammed into the windscreen disemboweling itself. Looking back I like to call this ‘The Insect Effect. The forward motion of Dame Shirley caused its guts to spread out in a long stream right in Ian’s line of sight. He sprayed the screen and turned on the wipers (as you do to clear insect guts). The drivers side wiper disconnected itself on a right swing and flew off!! Luckily it wedged itself in the wing mirror and Ian swiftly opened the window and retrieved it before it killed someone. A little shaken he took a huge gulp of the fizzy water. Big, big mistake. Turns out, unbeknownst to anyone, he is afflicted with ‘Soda Syncope’.

‘Oh, I have swallowed a massive air ball’ he cried. (I misheard and thought he said hairball 🤷🏻‍♀️) . ‘Oh, oh, it’s really painful.’ Man up we thought. ‘Ooooo, I feel very faint’. Not so good. With that, he pulled up onto the hard shoulder, rushed to the back green facedly, and collapsed on the bed. 

‘Shall I call an ambulance’ I screamed. ‘No’ he mumbled’ I will be OK’ . Mmmmmm. Here we were, on the hard shoulder of an extremely busy motorway with an incapacitated driver. Step up Supermum. I would have to drive.

I buckled in and attempted to release the handbrake. Trickier than it sounds when you are terrified. Chris calmly talked me through it and eventually we were ready to set off. I managed to re-enter the stream of traffic and we were on our way. After about half a mile Ian came forward. ‘I feel fine now, shall I drive?!’ 

We settled on me carrying on to Hopwood, about 30miles, then stopping for lunch where Ian would take over again. Chris looked up what had happened and Soda Syncope was the conclusion we drew. It’s really a thing. If you gollop your drink down too fast, particularly fizzy drinks, you can get the air ball and faint. They cannot study it  because it lasts too short a time. Needless to say we will be watching Ian very closely from now on.

Luckily the road was very busy and I was in an endless stream, thus only needing to overtake a very slow Motorhome and a Warburtons lorry (which I took a great dislike too.) As we arrived at Hopwood I only cut one car up on the roundabout (he deserved it) and just clipped one kerb on entry ( it was a sharp turn.) I then proceeded to enter the motorhome space from the wrong way (Sir Georgie Kelly never let me forget that one) before landing, putting the handbrake on (gently) and heaving a huge sigh of relief. 

Ian jumped in and we did another circuit before ending up the right way round and we were settled. 

Hopwood was heaving so we decided on a coffee and sandwich at the Starbucks, and a bit of a rest. 

Panic over 

After our well deserved (in my case) break, we resumed our journey with Ian driving, and me and Chris watching him like hawks to make sure he didn’t partake of the fizzy water. Despite there being no real hold ups it seemed to take an age to get to Bristol, where  Chris and I helpfully navigated Ian through the clogged streets and Ian screamed back at us. At last we arrived at Baltic Wharf. A little haven in the chaos of our day. There was only one pitch left again, pitch 42, which turned out to be the best pitch. In ‘the circle’ a nice central area. Because I had booked an awning pitch there was loads of room. Most pitches at Baltic Wharf are non awning, and very small. 

The lovely area 42

Chris and I reclined on the grass while Ian set everything up, no electric problems, or indeed any problems, this time, then we all sat outside in the glorious sunshine being judgemental.

How nice is this

We fed Misty, then Ian and I took her for a quick walk before we walked round to the Cottage Inn next door. I had booked a table thankfully as, due to the nice weather, it was heaving. The wharf outside was thronged with people. ‘I recognise this place,’ said Chris. ‘We came here on a canal boat for Andy Hydes stag do!’ Oh joy. Once we got inside though it was lovely. We were given a nice booth where Misty could crawl underneath, and Ian got me a G and T. I decided on a fish finger sandwich, but sadly the fish had very small fingers. Ian and Chris enjoyed their pie and fish curry respectively though.

The stag pub

Tiny fingers

After the meal we wandered back next door and sat outside some more watching some amazing skys as the sun set. We then retired indoors to watch the final mashing of the play off semi final. Ah, the lows and highs and lows again of online betting. Southampton were winning 3-0 but Chris needed a West Brom goal to win £20. Then, at 90+7, a miracle. A West Brom header crept in. Yes! Money! But wait. He needed a certain number of corners too, and had fallen short by one. Never mind.

After that disappointment we lowered Chris’s bed, sent Ian out with Misty again, and I retired leaving the roof vent open due to the heat! 

And it seems Brian’s toe is healed as he tipped up at Grandmas mid afternoon. Good news for Kathy and Einar!

Neighbour watch

Right in the corner on the opposite side to our door is a grass pitch with a small French campervan on. (Pitch 56). Pitch 43 has an American monster truck the size of a small planet which they have parked in front of their caravan instead of at the side. Once we reversed in to pitch 42 the truck blocked the French in so they can never leave. I will keep you updated.

Pitch 41 has a family of three where the parents are old. The man has a big carpet that he uses to do back exercises. Ian does not like them as the man is miserable. I agree. 

A large caravan pulled into pitch 8, only just fitting, and the man used a power drill to lower his legs as we were peacefully chilling. We don’t like them either.

Chris and I feel sure we saw Gary Oldman in a Motorhome on pitch 31. That’s if he is short. I thought he was taller. I will keep you posted on that too.