I’m living in a box. I’m living in a cardboard box…
Not really, it actually doesn’t feel like that at all inside the RV. I mean, it’s tiny, and the walls are thin, but there is enough space that it kind of works.
The girls have a double bed, which we thought might lead to fights over space, but it’s OK as long as they have their own covers.
Our bed is above the driver’s cabin and feels somewhat like a coffin made for two, but as Mr. Hotford is sleeping on the really claustrophobic side, it’s fine! (Poor Mr. Hotford, and after all that driving too… maybe we should swap tonight?)
We are having our first day of downtime in a place called Carlsbad and it feels like we have finally shifted gear into holiday mode, as opposed to slightly surreal, adrenalin-fuelled-rushing-around mode. We’ll be back to rushing around tomorrow when we hit Legoland – woot!
Also, it is so good driving around in your own house! Is this what turtles feel like?
For example: a bit breezier than you thought and you need a cardie after all? No problem, pop back to the van and get one! Fancy a swim at the lovely beach you are passing? No dramas, just get into your swimming stuff and go! Remember as you arrive at the zoo that it will be expensive to buy lunch? No worries, whip up some sarnies and save yourself $50! Girls need the toilet as you are driving along? Still have to pull over into dodgy side lanes, no change there.
Not only is the RV pleasantly surprising in unexpected ways, so is America itself. I had imagined it would be somewhat aggressive-feeling – all guns and rednecks and lots of shouting, but I think I’ve watched too much Louis Theroux.
Here are some sweeping generalisations (based on five full days so I’m definitely an expert):
- Lots of people drink a lot of massive soft drinks
- There is only bubblegum flavoured kids’ toothpaste
- There are way more dogs than you would think – so many pampered pooches tucked into jackets in the supermarket
- People are relaxed and friendly in a really good way