Diary 17. Soggy Bottom

No, Matt hasn't soiled himself again, but we are both wet, cold, hungry, and not completely sure we're actually in Spain. It's been raining for nearly a week now, and we're fed up. Not because we wanted Spain to provide us with much needed relaxing sunshine, though that is true, but because the van has proven itself STILL not to be watertight, despite all the hard work and money that went into attempting to make it drier than the Sahara inside.

Neither of us have slept in 2 nights. The first night we didn't sleep we had been up watching a film (Pursuit of Happyness for those who are wondering), along with all it's special features that the leisure battery could handle. We decided to have a little snack and a cigarette (I'm giving up after my birthday, I swear!), and just as we were shining the torch around to make sure we had the blankets straight and the crumbs out of the bed, Matt thought he saw a drip from the ceiling. So we watched, we waited, and hey presto, another one. And then, without warning, it literally was pouring in and onto the bed from the sides of the roof hatch. 

We both got a little flustered and it took us a minute to grab a tea towel off the kitchen side to stem the flow. Then Matt decided to have a look at the side door, as we had some kitchen roll stuffed in it as a draught excluder. He lifted up the blind, and it was just running in. Awesome.  

We decided the best port of call would be to try and move the van to a spot that was wonky, something we've been trying to avoid this entire trip. It's harder than it sounds to move to a wonky spot, as you have to sit there for a minute and assess if anything inside the van is slanting the correct way. So, in the middle of the night, on the edge of a cliff surrounded by mountains, we started up Keith the leak (his mobster name I'm sure), and looked for a wonky area. We lucked out, and the water seemed to be running off the roof and away from the sliding door. As it carried on raining harder and harder into the early hours, exhaustion finally took over and we fell asleep around 4am.

Day two, after just a few hours sleep, we drive to a lovely looking van parking lot with the intention of fixing the side door in some way, and Matt getting on the roof to check out the sealant situation around the roof hatch. It took us a couple of hours of trying different techniques and undoing nuts and bolts to tighten them elsewhere, but we finally were happy that the side sliding door was a lot more flush than it had been, with the seals pressing on the van enough to not allow water ingress. 

We saluted a job well done, returned our borrowed tools from a van across the lot, and swiftly made a celebratory gin and tonic. Then the heavens opened once more. 

It was another restless night for us, as we tossed and turned trying to get the visions of waking up in our own private swimming pool out of our heads. It seemed that as soon as one of us would drift off, the rain decided to pelt down a little harder to remind us of it's power over us, in our rusty little tin can. Bloody patriarchal weather suppressing our wants and needs! 

At about 7.30am, I had officially decided to give up on the idea of sleep, and so had Matt, as it sounded like we were in a very large rain stick. We sat up. Matt looked down to the bottom of the bed to see if Bailey was awake, but she wasn't there. She had moved, because water was streaming in the top of the side door, much like the waterfall tap at the wellness spa. 

It's been all systems go ever since. The bed was quickly folded away before it got sodden, luckily it's just the blankets that suffered. We moved to a more sheltered spot in the lot, and then I heard a deep rumble. I hadn't seen any lightening, so it couldn't be thunder. As I was looking out the window, waiting for the kettle to boil for some much needed coffee, I was watching all the poor small creatures running from their burrows in the grassy pitches to seek shelter, much as we had done. 

It was then that I saw a huge rush of water start flying down the roadways, pushing the water that was already standing closer and closer to our glorified bucket with holes in. We had to move. Our tool lenders had moved not long before us, and parked on the only tarmaced piece, actually reserved for coaches. We decided to make our way over there to wait for the kettle to boil and to collect our thoughts. 

It soon became apparent that even this was not going to be a viable option for much longer, as the mixture of drain overflow and mountain water gushing down into the lowland pit we were in kept, edging menacingly towards us. We had to drive, and drive now. I found a petrol station in higher land on Google Maps, and hoped we could seek shelter under the awning there. 

We couldn't unfortunately, so we are currently on our way to an INTU shopping centre, which we saw a sign for on our way to the petrol station. We're hoping that there is some sheltered parking there which is high enough for the van to fit under, somewhere to get a hot breakfast as we haven't been food shopping in a week, and possibly somewhere warm to sit and upload this tale of woe for all you dear readers. 

Wish us luck!

J x