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“It is a van or a camper?”
“Yes.”
So was a portion of a conversation Gail had with the occupants of the car beside us at the rest stop.
As I joined the conversation I added that since we’re from Oregon I call it a covered wagon.
They were having very bad moment. We were on the boundary between North Carolina and Virginia. They were from North Carolina headed to a wedding in Virginia and had just discovered that their AirBnB had just cancelled. They were not very excited about the option of some $350 in the only hotel room they could find. I’m afraid we left in our camper van aka covered wagon with no resolution to their issue.
This was another day of driving, and driving, and driving; or so it seems, from Charleston, South Carolina, through North Carolina and into Virginia. During our breaks we studied the options for the drive and for our potential visit to the Colonial Williamsburg Village, a living historical outdoor museum. We also chose a real RV camp site and paid a fee for a place to park and a lot of things we will not use like a swimming pool, bath house, beach park, and general store. Our neighbors are close, like we each have about twice the width of the camper and just enough depth to nose in and not stick out into the street. The neighbors on both sides have a dog or two which has been driving Charlie crazy. Gail took a shower, a freight train came by missing us by some ten feet or so and now it’s raining so that the street is a flowing stream. Oh, I feel so bad for the neighbor who is in a tent.
We purchased tickets online for the village admission which is where we will spend the portion of tomorrow that’s not raining. The power's plugged in, the van vent automatically closed itself when the rain started and I can’t get the WiFi passcode to work. Overall it’s been a great day. We don’t have to worry about a tent in the rain or a cancellation of an AirBnB. And the drive was smooth, comfortable and carefree.
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