Ultimate Vanning

I'm not entirely sure where my obsession with VW campervans started. I know I haven't always loved them, I just don't I started doing so. Maybe it was a slow and unnoticed thing, a gradually dawning consiousness of their immensity. I always used to watch them stream past as I was waiting for a gap in the traffic to turn out of my road, on their way to the Three Counties show, and thought they were the most amazing-looking vehicles in the world. I once saw about thirty, all parked at an angle along the prom on the beach in Devon somewhere, and decided I wanted one. Here, now, ASAP.

Of course, the first thing I think about when I fantasise about my future camper is what it looks like. I mean I'd love a candy pink one - just look at the absolute sex god of a van in the photo on the right. But, just in case I had to share it with a man, I'd settle for either a shiny cherry red or a gorgeous baby blue or a peppermint green. With a white roof, of course, and chrome fittings. Then I'd do it out all sixties-style inside, with Kath Cidston curtains and cushion-covers and blankets and stuff... Oh lord, I'm salivating over an imaginary campervan.

The way the van looks is of course important - everyone starts with some shambolically rusted heap of junk that they love very much before they sort it out or get a better one - but the things you can do with it are what's really important. It doesn't matter if you're driving the swishest-looking machine you could ever dream of or a buckling hunk of be-primered metal, the feeling you get when you park up at the beach for summer will be the same. Nothing beats waking up in the morning and going straight outside to rub the sleep out of your eyes and feel the morning dew under your bare toes, before tramping off to find somewhere that does a fry-up. Once you're fed and watered you can go wherever the hell you like - and if you get somewhere and like it, you can stay - cos you've got a fabulous retro camper to stay in (and everywhere has campsites, even if you'd really much prefer a secluded corner of beach to park up at, so you'll never be completely screwed). I think I could happily mooch about in Cornwall for an entire summer if I had a shiny van to do it in and someone lovely to do it with. Maybe find a hippy folk band of some form to play my flute with... (maybe I'm getting a bit carried away now!)

And just imagine the fun if you got organised enough and shipped your camper overseas. I would LOVE to take mine to New Zealand and tour around. All hot and tropical and beachy up north, then slowly moving southwards towards cold mountains and snuggling under blankets with hot chocolate and skiing, or snowboarding if I was cool enough. Then leap over to Australia and take it to Bondi, make friends with a load of hot surfer dudes and learn to surf, with evenings spent drinking rum and coke on the beach with my new mates the surfers. That's before even thinking about Thailand.

Ahhhhh I want to go now! Now now now. Where's the nearest bank, I need to rob one! (They're not sheap, you know, campers.) Although, taking into account the current climate, it's probably not even worth robbing a bank... Any get rich quick schemes anyone would care to mention would be gratefully received! All that Cath Kidston ain't cheap either, come to think of it...