Opulence on wheels

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• Location: England
• Holiday Types: Family holidays, Sporting

• by: mollymjackson
• on: Thu 09 Feb 2012

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A caravan holiday? My other half’s idea of a luxury break didn’t impress. A trip to A&E at the local hospital would be more exciting.

Caravans for me were beige fibre glass hutches on wheels clogging-up motorways.  Swaying to-and-fro en-route to a bare, worn field.  Laid out in rows, inches apart, like sun-bathers on Brighton beach on the few days when the British summer reaches temperatures in the 90s. Cramped interiors, primitive plumbing, Formica furniture, plastic crockery and Brentford Nylon sheets, an MFI boudoir on a single axle – a bad-taste nightmare. An unpleasant experiment in the psychological impact of extreme close-quarter living. The perfect recipe for bickering if not all out warfare between two people.

But I was wrong.

My first mistake, this was not a caravan, but a trailer. And trash it ain’t. A Spartan Manor, vintage 1946, aircraft engineering applied in peacetime. Known as the Rolls Royce of trailers, it was the last word in luxury vacation vehicles in its time, and is still pretty classy now. Resplendent with rivets, and gleaming silver our new home was parked in a grassy pasture on the sunny Isle of Wight. The large field was surrounded by trees, and pleasantly rural. Chickens clucked  contently around us, pecking and scrabbling at the grass. We shared the field with four other classic trailers and there was enough space to keep our distance without being rude. Our neighbours proved to be charming and seasoned hands at life in a vintage trailer. Their wonderful old Chevrolet truck added to the sense of a bye-gone age.

Like the Tardis, the wood-panelled interior belied the exterior shape and apparent size. Impeccably styled with BBC historical drama-accuracy - down to the 50s board games, a bottle of Baby Cham and champagne coupés next to the double bed. I was also to discover that it was probably the most comfortable bed I had ever slept in. A very well fitted out kitchen, including that essential (not a luxury) a cafetierre, as well as comfortable chairs and bliss – lots of books and a radio but no television!

The enjoyment of making breakfast on the barbeque outside, fighting off the chickens determined to share.  Does feeding them fried onions dispense with the need to stuff them before roasting, I wondered?  A picnic lunch on the deserted beach, a gentle stroll up the road. Garlic chicken for supper under the stars. This was definitely camping for grown ups! The plumbing was perfectly acceptable and hot water was on tap.

And you meet such interesting people in trailers! I had to eat humble pie.

(Vintage Vacations on the Isle of Wight own these trailers and orchestrate these experiences)

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