Myrtle Farm, and the Blue Flame, Nailsea, Somerset August 2022

After setting off on a Wednesday mid-morning, and encountering a motorway blockage on the M6 ( a motorhome on fire!), we arrived in Clevedon in Somerset in the early evening, and made our way to Tesco to buy a microwaveable meal for tea.

From there it was only minutes to the campsite at Myrtle Farm, Nailsea, where we were quickly shown a pitch under a tree in the corner of the site. Given the hot weather we were enjoying the tree provided some much needed shade. The pitch was also virtually flat. We quickly connected up to the electricity supply and turned on the gas and set about making tea. Unfortunately the Blue Flame pub, just across the road, only opens on a Thursday for the weekend so we had to make do with the supplies of cider we had on board that night.

We had picked this site as we have friends who live in the area, and we had visited the Blue Flame - https://pubheritage.camra.org.uk/pubs/8191 before. It is a strange 'hobby pub' ran by a couple who are happy with the level of trade that they are currently attracting. There is little signage outside to advertise it is a pub, and the building is in need of some care and attention. It was not due to open until 3pm the next day.

After rising to yet another nice day, breakfasting in style, and fixing the awning that I had broken in Ayr, our friends gave us a brief visit, before they had to deal with their days appointments. We all agreed to meet later in the day, back at the Blue Flame bafore enjoying an early evening meal in Clevedon. They left me to research for a dog friendly restaurant in Clevedon and book a table. I found a Tapas bar with an interesting menu, and booked a table, only to find out later that it was my favourite restaurant in Clevedon, all be it under a new name, Mary's Wine and Tapas bar - http://marysclevedon.com .

As mid-afternoon approached we crossed the road to sample the cider, and the home made pork pies, which were excellent. We then returned to the motorhome, as to spend a whole afternoon in a pub would be reckless at our age!

We later returned to the pub, and met our friends, as agreed, and after sitting in the beer garden for a while turned our minds to our evening meal. With blankets in place in our friend's car, to prevent Finn damaging the upholstery we made our way to Clevedon. The meal was of the usual high standard that I have come to expect from this retaurant, and the evening was a great success. We were delivered back to the site just as darkness fell.

It had been another sunny day other than the brief shower brought on by my unloading the outside table and chairs.

We settled down for the night, with Finn retreating to his favourite spot behind the curtains, out of site.

The next morning our friends had agreed to pick us up earlier in the day to take us to the city of Wells. After exploring the medieval sector we arrived at the Bishop's Palace and the Cathedral, both of which are outstanding buildings of great age. Wells is a very nice city.

Then the highlight of the break, we visited a very remote farm in Mudgley, a producer of traditional cider, Wilkin's Cider - http://wilkinscider.com . We pulled into the farmyard, which is surrounded by a number of derelict and open barns. We entered into one of these barns to be met by a surreal view of a number of dark figures gathered around huge wooden barrels drinking cider out or jars.

After checking that they were dog friendly, not noticing the other dogs wandering around, Finn entered.

The barn also housed a display of fresh vegetables, cheeses and bottles of interesting sauces. Whilst perusing these we were asked if we wanted a drink, a taster, which was at least a half pint. This was free! The Independent newspaper has voted this cider as the number one in Somerset. I think it is excellent which is why I bought a flagon. The atmosphere is non-commercial, rustic and friendly, and a visit there is highly recommended.

We all left laden down with our purchases, high from the effects of the cider.

Our next stop was a pub for lunch, the Queen Victoria Inn in Priddy, where, due to a mix up in the booking we had to order our food straight away. The food was good, but nothing to write home about. https://thequeenvicpriddy.co.uk .

Upon our return to the motorhome we thought it would be remiss of us not to visit the Blue Flame, where a homemade sausage roll was enjoyed for tea. We then returned to the motorhome to settle down for the night.

The next morning we took it easy preparing ourselves for an afternoon, drinking, sat in the sun, before an evening meal prepared by our hosts. Before we were to be picked up we took the opportunity to line our stomachs with some cider and a sausage roll from the Blue Flame, as we knew our hosts had some heavy duty ciders awaiting our tasting.

We were picked up at the agreed time, with me running late, as I had been delayed at the pub discussing motorbikes with some regulars. I had come across the revised 125cc Honda Cub for the first time.

Once ensconced in our friends garden Finn had a stupid five minutes running around, as it was the first time in a few days that he was outside and off the lead.

The man of the house and myself were drinking pints of a variety of ciders whilst the women were drinking wine glasses of strong bottled cider, and the wasps couldn't decide which they liked best. We enjoyed the sun and the garden until dusk, and then the meal was prepared.

We sat down, inside, as the darkness drew on, and a wonderful meal was taken. We were then delivered home for the last time, and settled down.

The next morning, the last of our break, was wet, and I had to dodge the showers as I set about my tasks. Interestingly, the young lady at the site advised that I open the grey waste outlet directly under the motorhome, where it stood, as they did not have a grey waste facility.

Once we were disconnected, and all the signs of our stay were cleared away we took a return trip to Tesco to fill up with diesel for the trip home.

Suffering somewhat from the excesses of the previous day I necessitated a number of stops on the way back up the motorway, and our first year of motorhoming was complete.