Margot on the Moor

A flask of tea made, and a couple of cakes packed, we set off on an intrepid adventure to Dartmoor (only a few miles from home). Slowly trundling along the dual carriageway, I watched as the lorries and caravans loomed up behind before pulling out to overtake. It was a scenario we would have to get used to. As we headed closer to the moor along smaller roads, I reflected on the constant background panic I was experiencing; would we break down around the next bend? I wondered if I would ever shake that feeling. After what felt like hours we arrived at our destination- a car park high up on Dartmoor. The earlier sun had disappeared and the grey clouds looked ominously menacing. We parked Margot at a jaunty angle to make the most of the views and climbed out, feeling pretty pleased with ourselves (and the exhaust) for making it this far. A couple of quick photos later, the bitter wind had driven us back inside again to enjoy a cup of tea and a piece of cake. We sat in the back of Margot and looked out at a few bedraggled walkers hurrying by with their hoods up. We laughed at the thought of what we must look like to the outsiders; a couple of mad old people in their ancient van. Still, we were happy, munching our cake and staring at the other vehicle in the car park- a solitary ice cream van with no customers. Eventually, we decided that was enough excitement for one day and prepared to head home. Starting the engine brought us straight back to reality- the exhaust was not as 'fixed' as we had hoped. The anti-socially deep rumbling sound was back with a vengeance. We limped home slowly, sinking lower in our seats as we drove into the estate, hoping that nobody would notice Margot making such a racket. Exhaust issues aside, we had made it. Margot had been on her first outing and all three of us had survived!