Something was definitely up; me and the humans were up early and off down the motorway, car well loaded and me trying to sleep in the back - not easy with a sleeping bag falling on my head at every turn. Why do they need so much stuff? Some of us manage with one coat and no shoes even though we've got twice as many feet. Instead of some smart hotel, we arrived at a shed on top of a hill in the middle of nowhere; I was allowed in and offered a treat, but my Mum always told me not to take things from strangers (sorry Zoe). We were shown round this big blue and white van called Nice Guy Eddie. He had a noisy sliding door and cowboy curtains. Was that a hob and a fridge in there too? - so weird, how do humans dream this stuff up? Soon Eddie was stuffed full of all the human luggage (just) and my basket. She who must be obeyed told me to get in, so I did, and off we went. The old man was driving, but we were going a lot more slowly than usual. He looked worried and was muttering something about the brakes having failed. I was about to go and lend a paw when we just managed to stop at the bottom of the first hill. The noise was incredible, and there was more grumbling about the steering & gears, but soon the old man was patting the steering wheel and saying things like 'Well done Ed'. All very odd, even for a human. I woke up at Little Meadow camp site and had a good laugh watching the humans fighting with some metal poles and some very scary flapping canvas. Dodgy stuff canvas, I kept well away from that. Not good as a building material either, when it rains it leaks, thank goodness I was sleeping in Nice Guy Eddie. Watching the humans trying to climb into their bed in the pop top produced some good comedy moments; they're really much too old for that kind of bedroom acrobatics. I was beginning to enjoy this camping lark. The next day, I took the humans for a long walk from Mortehoe to Lee and back. Lovely beaches with so much sand and rock pools - I didn't know where to bathe or dig next - someone's got to exercise and entertain the old dears, haven't they? We had two more nights at Little Meadow, exploring Combe Martin and Ilfracombe, where I had a tasty sausage from the chippy. I had to bark at she who must be obeyed in Ilfracombe because she wouldn't go in the sea with me. Wimp. And she's got at least three coats. The humans packed up their stuff (more pole and canvas antics, hilarious, and this time the canvas stayed in its bag for good, phew) and off we went to Clovelly. The humans brewed up in the car park here - how embarrassing, can't take them anywhere - I sunbathed and pretended they weren't with me. After that it became a bit of a blur, parking in fields, popping Eddie's top, making tea (the old dears drank a lot of that), lots of beaches with variable quality digging sand, and lots of walks to exercise the old dears. We spent our next to last night at Trewiston Farm, near Rock (good sand there and a cafe with a dog menu - The Blue Tomato - how enlightened!) Fortunately Eddie came up trumps with my morning drink because the site had no water supply; he really is a nice guy. A really strange thing that happened on our road trip was that the old man did all the cooking in Eddie and the washing up; it must have been the thin air up in the pop top or something, or perhaps she who must be obeyed is finally getting him trained too. After Trewiston, we drove through mist and fog to Roadford Lake, where she who must be obeyed drove Eddie. I laid in my basket with my paws over my eyes, but everything went ok, and she who must be obeyed has got noticeably bigger biceps now, so I'd better behave. Then, sadly, it was time to take Eddie back to the shed on the hill. I'd like to thank everyone there for helping to organise my two old dears - without your help and advice, and my supervision, I think the old dears really would have struggled to cope out on the road. Finally I'd like to thank Nice Guy Eddie for looking after us all so well - Thanks Ed. Molly x.