At Happy Hour somewhere, we debate the odds of breaking an ankle on the step well. Now we’ve heard of people falling out of caravan doors and we’ve even seen folks hobbling into camp kitchens bruised and broken but not wanting to miss out on their red wine and steak. Woody too has gone face first, splat on the ground thanks to the seemingly sturdy chequer-plate box-step that came with our van. It might look caravan cool but it has now been relegated to the shed, replaced by a more practical step with non-slip sturdy angled legs.
Our door is at the bed end of the van and Woody sleeps on the same side of the caravan as the step well and each morning as I make the bed I am conscious of where I step so as not to break a leg in the step well and I often wonder if he’s ever forgotten where he is in the middle of the night. But then maybe it’s the same as the way I must always duck around the sharp corner of the TV which is inconveniently located on my side of the bed at boob height.