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I've bought myself a 2001 Brazilian bay-window import with a Danbury conversion.

It's 1600 cc which means I annoy everybody else on the road as I crawl at a dawdle along the road but, what the heck - it is the open road for me now, maties, and I know just where I'm going first of all.

There's a great little pub I know where they have real ale, proper pub food and live music and this very night my van is heading there and after a good old lash into the tunes and a bit of a sing I will be kipping out under the stars in my little tin home.

As far as I know you can't be done for being drunk in charge of a bed.

After that there's another little pub I know in the Lake District where the landlord plays the fiddle and makes bread from the yeast at the bottom of his beer barrels. I think I could probably make a good series of programmes just travelling round good pubs where there's good music and good craic.

A good way to spend the time I think.

So - if you pass a burnt-orange and white campervan parked up off the road with the curtains closed - drive past softly 'cos I might be still asleep.

Tiring work, banjo playing.

And remember - old hippies never die, they just buy a campervan.