Martin RobertsSee other Blog articles filed in ‘Martin Roberts' "My home from home"’ written by Martin Roberts
There’s been a huge amount of political and economic turmoil this year. But we caravanners seem to have largely been forgotten in all of the ‘what if…’ scenarios that have been played out by politicians and public alike.
Amid the (as far as I can see it) ridiculous concern over property prices, exchange rates, global trade, immigration, swords of Damocles et al, any possible effect on the touring community has been swept under the (removable) carpet.
It’s not as though our concerns are any less significant when compared to, say, a stock market collapse or worldwide financial meltdown. Why doesn’t the rest of the world recognise that there are some genuinely serious issues that have an impact on us, and that we therefore need to have addressed?
For instance, at any point recently did the so-called ‘caring politicians’ bring up the potentially devastating impact on the cost of foreign pitches if the Great British Pound plummets? “No!” I tell you.
Did the soothsayers of doom even contemplate – for as much as a microsecond – what might happen if, as a result of worldwide chaos and the breakdown of society, it becomes increasingly difficult to purchase chemical-toilet deodoriser? “They did not!” I cry, defiantly.
While they were working on their spreadsheets of destruction, did the bean-counters have the foresight to add a separate line to recognise ‘caravan price devaluation due to societal collapse’?
Brace yourself, dear reader… I have to break it to you that such a vital line was missing from the Master Plan for the Post Apocalypse.
And why is this, I ask? Why were the plights, concerns, worries and questions that we gentle caravanning folk hold in our hearts ignored? Why, during the entire Brexit debate, was there not one mention of its possible impact upon the world of caravanning?
I’m afraid the answer is that, despite the size and influence of our all-welcoming, multicultural, socio-economic cross-reference of society, we don’t shout loudly enough.
We tow our vans, peacefully. We pitch them, quietly. We holiday, respectfully. And we live our caravanning lives, happily.
And perhaps that’s how it should be: does it really matter that our specific needs or concerns were not adequately addressed? Maybe not.
I’m now going to put the kettle on, cut myself a slice of Battenberg cake, settle down to read the latest issue of the National Trust Magazine and forget all about it.