Thoughts of a motorhome driver

So let's face it, this thing handles like a truck, there's no secrets there. It looks like a truck, it sounds like a truck and it sure smells like a truck. But there is something very macho about going down a windy steep mountainside with the exhaust breaks singing their throaty tune. The gentle "psshht" when they disengage as you hop back on the throttle rounding another apex. I might see if I can get some installed on the Liberty!

Then there are the sounds through the bumpy sections of road. The kitchen blinds clanging away against the window, and all the other blind pull cords (ball bearing chains of course) clackity clacking on every other surface of the van to maximise their irritation factor.

The occasional cupboard flings open and crap flies everywhere because someone forgot to latch it.

As well as all that, there is the delightful chinky chink of some of New Zealand's finest ale chilling away in the fridge as if calling out "It'll all be worth it when you get there". And the ale speaks the truth, there's something pretty special about kicking back on the comfy couch in the back of the motorhome enjoying a cleansing ale (or three) to see out another day of driving the motorhome.