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We dreamed beneath a restless sky,
Of roads that wandered, wide and high.
Where hills and heather softly call,
And freedom lives beyond the wall.
With cities loud and workdays long,
We craved the lark, the ocean’s song.
A whisper stirred, “Why not today?
Let’s rent a campervan and drive away.”
So, to the screen our hopes did steer,
And typed the name we’d grown to hear:
Easicampers, proud and true,
With homes on wheels in white for you.
The booking page was smooth and clear,
We chose our motorhome and gave a cheer.
A California bold, or Zefiro wide,
With beds and burners snug inside.
The day arrived with sun and cheer,
We met the staff, all bright and near.
With smiles they walked us ‘round the frame,
Explained the gear and praised its name.
“Fridge and cooker, water tank,
Solar power when your gas runs blank.
USBs and blinds, a shower too—
This van’s prepared for all you do.”
We signed, we packed, the keys were passed,
Then watched the city fade so fast.
The road ahead, like ribbon rolled,
Through hills of green and cliffs of gold.
First stop: the Lakes, where silence grows,
Where mountains wear the morning’s rose.
We parked by Windermere’s calm side,
And watched the swans in moonlight glide.
Tea steamed warm on hob and cup,
The kettle sang as stars rose up.
The bed was soft, the night was kind,
And all the noise was left behind.
Through misty dawns we wandered free,
To Ullswater, Derwent, and Buttermere’s plea.
The motorhome a loyal friend,
Its wheels a way, its roof a den.
We met new faces, old and young,
From all the isles their voices sung.
Some hired too, in vans like ours,
And swapped their maps beneath the stars.
Onwards north, through glens so wide,
To Scotland’s heart we came to ride.
The NC500 called our name,
A looping road of coastal flame.
From Inverness to Sango Bay,
Where turquoise tides and dolphins play,
We drove through moor and winding pass,
Past standing stones and Highland grass.
Each night we stopped where wild things tread,
Parked by a loch or stream bed.
The motorhome stood firm through winds and rain,
Our portable hearth on the rugged plain.
We boiled oats in early grey,
And watched the puffins start their day.
With every stop, the wild grew near,
And every mile dispelled our fear.
The Isle of Skye, like woven dream,
With misty threads and mountain seam,
Unfurled her cliffs and fairy pools,
While we explored like wandering fools.
At Neist Point, beneath the gale,
We brewed our tea and told a tale.
No hotel roof could charm so well,
As Easicampers’ mobile shell.
We slept where skies were rich and wide,
The Northern Lights our silent guide.
Our van—a ship through starlit foam,
Made every resting place a home.
Down we rode through Cairngorm snow,
To Perthshire fields and forests low.
We met the deer, we traced the pines,
And read the land like ancient signs.
To Edinburgh with cobbled street,
We parked just past the Arthur’s Seat.
By day, the city held its sway,
By night, the motorhome pulled us away.
No check-out times, no lobby queues,
Just dawn-lit winds and mountain views.
Our journey curved through glen and glade,
On every track the world was laid.
Through Yorkshire Dales, the moors, the farms,
Through sleepy towns and weathered charms.
To Cornwall’s edge with cliffs so white,
We followed sun and fading light.
In Padstow’s harbour, fish and song,
With coastal roads that twist so long.
We parked near dunes, and swam the tide,
The van our base, our joy, our guide.
One week turned two, and then to three,
The road became our destiny.
We’d wake and choose our next new place,
No bounds, no clocks, just open space.
We cooked with herbs we picked by hand,
We danced barefoot upon the sand.
We read by lantern’s gentle beam,
And fell asleep inside a dream.
We hiked the peaks of Snowdonia’s spine,
Then coasted down through forest pine.
The Brecon Beacons, wide and still,
Their valleys deep, their air to fill.
From North to South, from East to West,
Our Easicamper motorhome passed the test.
It kept us warm, it held our load,
It led us on that winding road.
What once we feared—the unknown mile—
Became the place we’d stay a while.
The van was more than shell and wheel,
It held the life we longed to feel.
Then home we came with hearts so wide,
With stories rich and eyes with pride.
We handed back the faithful frame,
The staff all smiled, they knew our name.
“Back again?” they laughed and said.
“Your motorhome’s become your bed.”
We grinned and nodded, minds still far—
Still chasing dusk, beneath a star.
So now when life feels boxed and cold,
When workdays drone and dreams grow old,
We look once more to wheels and map,
To doors that close and van-life nap.
We’ll call up Easicampers’ Wolverhampton team,
And chase again that open dream.
For every road, and every sky,
Still waits for us to wander by.
So rent the motorhome, and leave the town,
Let Mountain up and worry down.
The journey’s yours, the miles are near—
With Easicampers Wolverhampton, shift the gear.
You will be grinning from ear to ear,
With memories made along the way,
So, book with Easicampers today
And be on your happy way.
