In the morning, early for a Saturday, I got up, pulled on my swimming costume and my trackies and a hoody and set off.  I was getting in the sea – and no wet suit!  I didn’t pause, I didn’t dilly dally, I stripped off and got in.

And it was fabulous.

The sense of achievement was fantastic.  I walked back for a shower in the spotlessly clean bathroom block.

Then I had my cooking moment – scrambled egg and salmon and coffee.  I felt like royalty.  My planning and organization had paid off.  I looked like I knew what I was doing.  (And that’s half the battle).

I spent the day walking and reading.

The café on the campsite is renowned for its ice cream – so of course I needed to have one!  Other campers came over to look at my van.  It’s not quite run of the mill and they were so complementary.  I felt proud – yes, I will admit it – proud of making a decision, proud of learning to drive it, and proud that I had worked out how to use it properly.

And I had done it on my own.

Sunday lunch at the café in glorious sunshine was a lovely ending to my weekend.  I felt like I had had a week away in a posh resort!

Friends ask how my adventures are going and say that they wish they were brave enough to do the same.

Perhaps I’ve always been a risk taker.

My sister lives in a very isolated house in the wilds of Andalucia and I asked her once if she was scared.  And she said that there was no point being scared, it didn’t solve anything and I have always remembered that.

I am much less scared in my van than I was living with a man who might turn on me at any moment.

When you have been afraid in your own house then you know what real fear is.

Being in charge of my own life is perfect freedom.

Written by Marion, hosted by Carrie