Operation Bus Pass

Operation Bus Pass is officially underway. For those of you that need a reminder (see ‘Country Pursuits’) the Husband and I went to visit his Bohemian friend and Mediterranean girlfriend in the Scottish hills. They consequently offered us an old bus to stay in rent-free for the summer. As we are one step away from homeless at the best of times, the Husband and I have accepted this offer. This is where our story resumes:

The Husband and Bohemian have spent the day jacking up the bus so that it doesn’t sit at such a jaunty angle. As it is lacking wheels and sits on a pile of mud this is pretty tricksy (new word, just invented). Ah, did I fail to mention that the bus we are currently refitting as our summer home has no wheels? We will not be driving it around the country. It is more like the shell of a bus, minus any metal of scrap value. It’s wheel arches house nice supportive logs, with little bricks and bits of metal balanced upon them like totem poles of scrap. I’m a little dubious about their supportiveness, even more so after a conversation about the potential of the bus toppling in a fierce storm. But then I reasoned how much can it possibly rain in Scotland in the summer?

The more pressing issue is that we may freeze to death – Scottish heat waves settle in the 20’C’s, not quite Durban temperatures. At the moment the bus has a layer of cardboard on the floor for insulation, a giant hole where the dashboard once was and a variety of critter size holes still to be plugged. On the plus side we do have a little Afghan wood burner. So still a bit to be done but slowly, slowly catchy monkey and stuff.

The Bohemian is also a bit of a scrap metal merchant so our lovely new abode is surrounded by a number of army trucks. One might mistake the yard for an army barracks. As we are worried that British Intelligence might have, as there have been a number of low flying fighter jets circling. As a preventative measure the Husband and I have decided to paint large peace sign or Red Cross on roof of bus just in case we are mistaken for Afghan insurgents. The bombers might see the “Jesus loves you!” slogan scrawled on the side of the Bus a little too late.

Despite being without lights or water (the answer to which is only a power cable and hosepipe away) our lovely new abode gets a very faint Internet signal. I aim to keep one foot in modernity whilst living the good life and so I have joined twitter (@sallygypsytiger). Not getting many tweets in though. I was feeling rather guilty about this until I heard the expression “too many tweets make a twat.”

Speaking of Twats, the Husband and I once bought a car from a man name Doogie Twat. His wife was called May Twat, but that is another story for another time…

… I think I hear a fighter jet approaching.