Beginning to feel...

...The Mothership is really mine. She’s been thrown at mad roads, bumps, holes, rough ground campsites and roundabouts without rules. She’s got bent and cracked back doors, missing paint work, missing grey waste tap to name a few imperfections. First time I’ve really felt like she’s really mine and that I’m warming to her. Still miss The Mothership One badly.
On our last campsite tonight listening to music blasting at 2315. 24 nights away and this is the only really noisy one.