Flushing Waters

| Mairead
It was a dry, warm and windy day at Sutton Hoo

On Tuesday night we stayed at the campsite in the farm next door to Sutton Hoo. We had been carrying a full tank of grey water and a full cassette (toilet) for too long. We needed to empty everything. We were also running very low on LPG gas and each garage we arrived at had run out. We use gas for heating, for running the fridge, for the oven, the grill and for the essential purpose of making tea. We had stopped using the oven, didn’t even think about the heating and hadn’t seen toast for days. Soon we wouldn’t be able to make tea…

And the Irish connection… this excerpt (in the museum building at Sutton Hoo) is from the exceedingly long poem Beowulf, about this time of Anglo-Saxons, was translated by Seamus Heaney

But first things first we needed to check if there was room in the campsite at the farm next door. We found there were spaces sectioned off by hedges around a medium sized field. All but two of the spaces were taken up with motorhomes and caravans.

Which way?

There was a little shed with a sign saying Reception and lots of little signs about wifi and dog walking. There was also a block of toilets and showers. Unfortunately, there was no one about. It was after 5pm and this is out of season. Denis went looking in vain for a phone number and returned looking glum, saying we would have to travel on.

Another exhibits from the museum. I really love the clothing materials

Something you may not know about me is that my automatic instinct is to give up, rather than to persist. I know this and give myself a hard time for it. Denis also knows this and naturally thought I would agree to move on. I didn’t. There was nothing I could do about the gas here but there was no way I was going to accompany that grey and black water another mile. (All distance is in miles in the UK.)

I saw this in Edith Pretty’s house. The human impulse of sharing good news with someone who cares

Ignoring politeness Denis tugged the shed door open and was rewarded with a wall full of more signs, including, a phone number. Helen answered when Denis called and told him she would see us in the morning and to make ourselves comfortable wherever we found a space. Oh and she told him where the empty water points were too. Can you imagine the excitement?

I have to admit I don’t know what this is, I forgot to take a picture of the description but it definitely came from the grave

You might not be able to imagine the excitement if you are more familiar with just the magical flush of a toilet when everything disappears and refills with clean water. Or if you pull the plug and the dish water swirls down the sink. Imagine if it stopped though? I find the whole sewage concept really interesting and as synchronicity would have it, the next National Trust house I visited had been owned by a family who earned their fortune from sewage management. Imagine that!

Helpful coffee guide…

Synopsis: Travelling by motorhome on this trip has had its challenges. Eventually finding places to empty water has been very exciting. Which leads me to consider, does more hardship leads to more gratitude? Query: What would you miss most if you lost all modern conveniences?