When you first clamber up the wooden steps and through the door of this traditional vardo, you’ll be amazed at how tiny it is. It seems sacrilegious to mess it all up with your family trappings, which look so garish against the delicate hand-painted wood and dainty gingham curtains. While there’s no denying it’s a squeeze, stow things away and suddenly you’ll find that you’re in the Tardis.
Getting your trusty steed tacked up, ready for the road, is not as speedy as a car’s mirror-signal-manoeuvre, but hearing the creak of the wooden wheels, the clop of the horse’s hooves, you’ll soon be rocking gently into chillsville.
Your three days are spent plodding through White Horse, stone and crop-circle country, so the place has a special aura. This manifests most strongly at night, especially when you’re star-gazing, camped in an open field with a stream trickling near by. You’re provided with a real-live groom, who is as hands-on, or -off, as you want, but appears like a lucky charm within minutes of any call for assistance.
Frankly, the only setback could come at the end of your holiday, if your kids decide that actually they would quite like to live in a gypsy caravan all the time, pleeease.