The Nightlife of Eype

For those of you unaware, Eype is a small village in West Dorset clinging precariously to the edge of the Golden Cap, the highest point on the south coast of England. It provides fine walking opportunities and wonderful views of Torbay, Lyme Bay and Portland. On a clear day that is.... On a wet and foggy evening with a howling gale blowing in off the sea, the views and walking opportunities can be a little less appealing.

We were in a camp site near the beach. As the crow flies, only 100 metres from the beach. Alas, this is a vertical 100 metres we are talking about and any crows that were inclined to fly would have been several miles inland the moment they took off. The camp site itself wasn't exactly flat. From the narrow road that led to it there was a steep incline and the camp site had terracing to provide small flat parking/camping areas.

So, this is what Jezebel, with me at the wheel, was facing as I looked up from the road. A daunting prospect. Especially with the mysterious lack of first gear in our gearbox. The one gear I could really do with in such a time of emergency. I gave her a bit of a run up, floored the accelerator and got by using the power of prayer, pleading and the odd expletive as she chugged to the top of the slope on the verge of the camp site, right on the verge of stalling. Phew.

Nice weather before the rain set in 30 minutes later.

Lucas's bedroom for one night.

This was to be our first camping experience with Jezebel. Early July and due to weather, vehicle problems aplenty, work and other issues and we had only now managed this feat. What is more, this was using the original, knackered engine that we had been told was on it's way out. Life in the old dog yet...

The camping was an experience. With the pop top not currently functioning (I think it could have acted as a huge sail if we had put it up), Lucas dropped off to sleep on a mattress in the boot area whilst we chatted and drank beer in the lounge area with my chum Mike, down for the evening from Surrey. We still haven't got flooring or cupboards in yet so our gear was free to roam around the interior on our journey down there.

The engine is currently behaving well. The service did the trick, eventually. New oil, filters and plugs had her running sweetly....for the first 20 metres. She then stopped dead and had to be pushed back in to the garage. A bit of tinkering and sanding of contacts in the distributor did the trick and she drove down to B&Q like a dream. Purring quietly on the bypass, compared to the rattles, coughs and splutters we had before that made you have to shout at your passengers.

After coming out of B&Q, she wouldn't start. I repeated the trick with the distributor and lo and behold, I was off again. 200 metres later, I wasn't. Outside KFC, parked at a funny angle on double yellows, I was again fiddling with HT leads, distributor cap and rotor arm. 10 minutes and after some advice from an AA man, I was off again. For 50 metres. Breakdown number 4. This was soon after followed by breakdown 5 of the day on Swannery Bridge. The adjustments made with some pliers and a hammer seemed to do the trick though. Since then, she has been running like a dream.

So, I now have a functioning pop top. Lucas has been up there, claiming the large double bed as his own. I've ripped off the ghastly carpet stuff from the roof boards as it was disintegrating and spreading fluff and dust through everyone's hair.

We are off to Hickstead next week. A three hour trip (on paper), with a night of camping somewhere near Brighton and a day of bloody pony related ghastliness. I hope they have some decent beer tents and I can persuade Jo to drive home afterwards. Jezebel is back in the garage today to see if a mechanic can find that elusive first gear. It's in there somewhere, I'm sure of it.