• ‘I have won a Princess Nova caravan‘, 17 Sep 2009, in which the news breaks.
• ‘Meet the Princess Nova‘, 21 Sep 2009, in which the caravan is described.
• ‘What will I do with the Princess Nova?‘, 22 Sep 2009, in which I realise I have no idea about caravans.
• ‘The song that won a million hearts‘, 25 Sep 2009, in which I give the lowdown on how the song came about.
• ‘The Princess and the answers to unasked questions‘, 25 Sep 2009, an update on practical preparations for the caravan.
• ‘Fit for a Princess‘, 4 Oct 2009, totally impractical preparations for the caravan handover and photoshoot.
• ‘Rolling out the red carpet‘, 13 October 2009, I get a towbar.
• ‘She’s our princess now…‘, 19 October 2009, in which we are given the caravan.
• ‘Be a man: tow a caravan‘, 21 October 2009, in which I am thrown in at the caravanular deep end.
• ‘The Princess photo shoot‘, 23 October 2009, in which I tell the tale of the promotional photo shoot.
• ‘Judgement day revelations‘, 26 October 2009, in which I crow at the people who didn’t win.

So I suppose we’d better start learning quickly about this caravan-ownership thing.

Where are we going to put it? As you know, we don’t have a driveway. Our house is not next to the road. It’s packed in amongst a bunch of other houses, and you can only get to it via a steep path, which narrows to maybe 80cm in places. No place for towing caravans.

There’s a car park down the hill — but the annual rent for a parking space is around £100, and, erm, the caravan is covered in chintzy yellow wallpaper. Given past experiences, the amount of grumbles-cum-complaints-cum-lawsuits we would have to endure in the first week make this completely unfeasible.

So, perhaps we could fall back on some kind friends to help us out.

Whichever way you carve this, we’re asking for someone to semi-permanently set aside 10 sq m of real-estate for a garish and quickly mildewing caravan that (history indicates) we’ll quickly forget all about. What we need here is some landed, generous friends who we don’t mind falling out with.

Which brings me to: family.

When Jols excitedly rang her dad to tell him the wonderful news, he said, ‘Oh, love, that’s great news! You’re not putting it on my driveway’.

I toyed with the idea of loading it with my childhood detritus and parking it across the road from my mum’s house, or maybe asking my dad to host it in the vast tracts of Ireland that currently surround him, but manners preclude.

So the answer to this question is still running wild. We’ll catch it in the end. Or it’ll catch us in the end.

Meanwhile, there are some other questions. For example, How make fit caravan on brum brum?

We’re going to have to get a towbar, and then — what — brakelights and all that? And a numberplate? Well, I’ve booked my poor car in to get a towbar fitted this coming Monday. The man at Copthorne Services was very understanding.

‘Do you want a single or a twin supply?’
‘Urrr…’
‘A single’s for if you want the battery charging and the fridge running while you’re driving.’
(Has it got a battery? Or a fridge?)
‘Urrr…’
‘Do you want a bag on your head?’
‘Urrr…’
‘We’ll see you on Monday’ [click]

Jols received an answer to another question we hadn’t yet asked: an insurance man phoned up and told her we’ve a year’s free insurance on the caravan. Who knew you had to get these things insured? Makes sense, I suppose. However, his friendly, uncomprehensive investigations turned up a few truths.

He: ‘So, where will the caravan be kept?’
She: ‘Urrr…’
He: ‘Ahh.’

The good thing about his phonecall is that he wants to borrow the Princess off us for a few days for the upcoming Camping & Caravanning Show at the NEC in Birmingham.

It’s like: sure thing! Give us a chance to find out what on earth we’re supposed to do with it…

Laters

jx