Size is Everything

Hubby and I have been checking back on the size of the RV we've hired. It's the smallest available - we didn't want to be too ambitious on this, our first trip - but the dimensions seem enormous now we really consider them. 25ft long, 8ft wide, 11ft high.

Even so, a quick look at the floorplan so helpfully provided by Camping World makes us wonder where we're going to stash all the stuff that is already on our barely-started packing list. And Little Starlet hasn't even begun to put her extensive Polly Pocket family into a suitcase.

The floorplan consists of a driving cab area (lucky, that), with a "cabover bed"; a lounge chair which appears to be bolted to the floor, probably a good idea as we are combining the accident-prone Little Starlet with a twisty road; a "dinette" that converts into a single bed, reminiscent of all those happy holidays spent in fixed caravan sites in Rhyl; a "double bed" designed for two short, svelt sleepers; a shower and sink; the delicately named "toilette"; and a cooking area of small oven, microwave, stovetop, and sink. There is also something enigmatically labelled "Refer", which presumably is some hitherto unknown abbreviation, or perhaps a special technical word known only to RVers, refer-ing to the refrigerator.

Let's hope so, as we plan to take as much food with us as we can load into the van. Though our route follows major highways through delightfully named towns like Eureka, we're not sure that the Formager D'Affinois or Greek olive oil will be so easy to find as it is in the Bay Area. Mind you, the food shopping I've done so far consists of jumbo boxes of Cheezits and multi-packs of tomato sauce, so who am I trying to kid?

Hubby says with a reassuring chuckle that I would have no trouble driving this monster. Well, that's not my plan. Someone needs to commune with the maps, and that seems like my sort of gig.