On Day 1 of One Wicked Road Trip, we blast off from Wicked Campers London, making our way to Stonehenge.

So many emotions: nervousness, excitement, fear!? All fueled by the unknown… Camping in a crazy looking van and driving on the opposite of the road for two weeks in uncharted territory!? Well at least they speak English here, and we have our friend Rosa, the nice Google Maps lady to keep us in line.. Well, here goes nothing!

Heeeere we goooo!

We packed up all of our gear, and since we’d be returning to the same London Airbnb apartment in two weeks, we were able to leave a couple of bags behind, lightening the load a bit… Wicked Campers London was just under a mile away, so we headed out the door, excited to see how the day would unfold…

Rosa started by walking us through some nearby London projects, or the “scenic route,” as she sometimes likes to do. We made it through unscathed, but we continued with her directions under some railway tracks, wondering if we were really heading in the right direction… Just as our bags were getting heavy, we wandered past a garage jammed with brightly painted camper vans. Rosa was trying to direct us further down the street, but this had to be it!

Wicked Campers London

A lady inside confirmed that we had arrived at our pick up point: Wicked Campers! We were directed to our chariot for the next couple weeks. The newest in the Wicked Camper London fleet, the mid-2000’s Toyota Sienna was adorned with a paint job we won’t soon forget. The passenger side was covered with psychedelic orange and blue rays emanating from a single, slightly dazed eyeball. The driver’s side featured a screaming bearded face, the word Kasabian, and blood splattered on a light blue background… The rear hatch exclaimed: “Beauty is Only a Light Switch Away!

The van was clean and in good shape, and we signed a few forms as they topped off the fluids. The fuel tank was on “E”, but we got directions to the nearest “petrol” station. The directions sounded easy enough: “Three rights and a left..” First a bit of learning curve, the captain’s seat and blinkers on the right, and gear shift and wipers on the left… I started shifting into reverse, instigating a direct response from my blinkers. Second try, and my wipers cleaned the windshield. Third time’s a charm, excitedly announced by a repetitive backup beep, I had found reverse. A little maneuvering out of the tight lot into the alley and we were on our way!

Leaving London, But First Some Petrol

Of course, I missed the first right. No problem, we’ll just take the next street? Of course, it was a one-way street, as was the next, and we were lost before we even got started… I kept circling around, roundabout after roundabout, running at least one traffic light, hoping to find THE gas station. We seemed dangerously low on fuel, but I finally gave up the hunt. We needed some direction, so Rosa pointed us towards Stonehenge… Of course, as things work out, a gas station popped up around the next turn…

Fuel in England is sold by the liter, so it’s a bit difficult trying to estimate the price into dollars/gallon. Let’s just say it’s expensive, especially in London. Our first full tank cost us 59.52GBP, or $93.12. Yikes! Too late change our minds, we used the toilets, grabbed some road snacks and headed towards the M3, a freeway out of London…

The M3 is Maddening

The traffic was crazy on those winding one-way London streets and roundabouts, but when we finally made it onto the freeway. It truly felt amazing to be on our way in one piece. It was like we had overcome some deep-seated fear… Unfortunately, the celebration was over before we knew it. The M3 suddenly came to a close, and we were diverted without as much as a detour sign… Rosa wasn’t much help either, as she kept trying to circle us around to the same closed intersection…

Tensions were beginning to bubble over as I found an exit and kept driving through roundabouts until I found a place to pull over. In the meantime, right-hand turns became moments of terror, with Krissy screaming “Right Lane!!” to keep me from turning into oncoming traffic…

Since Google Maps was being less than helpful, we finally opened the map and charted out our own route. Forty-five minutes later we were back on the other side of the M3 closure, moving as fast as our Wicked Camper could handle without shuttering, a blistering 65 mph!

On to Stonehenge!

Of course, it wasn’t long before a pit stop was needed, so we followed a sign announcing “SERVICES..” Turns out an English “services” highway sign generally leads to a rest stop centered with a bit of a mini-mall with restaurants, grocery stores, and hotels. We still had no idea where we’d be staying for the night, but we took the opportunity to stock up on some essentials: beer, wine, and grub…

We distanced ourselves from the megalopolis that is London, and the beautiful English countryside stretched before us. Commercialism transformed into green rolling hills and sheep pastures, and before we knew it, we had arrived: Stonehenge!! The circle of stacked, gray stones looked huge and mysterious from the highway, and we continued to the next exit… Three or four miles later, we pulled up to the modern, glass and wood Visitor’s Center…

“Decide for Yourself”

Tickets prices were a bit steep in our opinion. $24/adult did grant full access to the museum, a shuttle to the site, and closer view of the stones, but there was no charge if willing to make the three-mile walk and view at a distance. Although one of the most expensive entry fees we had seen in Europe, the park was closing soon and we decided to hop on the last shuttle…

The place was nearly clear of tourists by the time we arrived, leaving the Stones to us and a few other stragglers… We circled around the site, and for some reason, Krissy seemed to be giggling under her breath… Finally, she turned to me and whispered: “This is fake as sh*t!” Krissy was not impressed, but I thought Stonehenge was very cool. The stones were huge, much larger than I had ever imagined, and if ancient people really did arrange them like this 4600 years ago, it’s an absolutely jaw-dropping ancient accomplishment.

Crunch Time

By the time we made it back to the camper, it was starting to get dark, and honestly, I was getting worried. The winds were gusting at 60mph, spitting occasional rain. The temps had already dropped into the upper 40’s, yet we still had no blankets, pillows, or a place to camp. Thankfully, Krissy remembered that Walmart in the UK had been bought out by a company called ASDA. A simple Google Maps inquiry and we had a lead!

We headed towards a small town called Melksham, backroads all the way, and got our first real taste of the UK countryside… Narrow winding roads lined with ten-foot hedges occasionally gave way to postcard villages made of stone and wood.. We cruised through green, tree tunnels, trimmed back just enough to let us pass, and were surprised by warnings for the occasional “Tank Crossing” or “Military Shooting Grounds.” No explosions today, we pulled into Melksham in no time…

The ASDA

We were completely deflated when Rosa directed us to the gated parking lot of a closed farm store, but a quick circle through a roundabout and we spotted the big green ASDA letters! Inside we found all sorts of goodies priced much lower than we had seen so far in the UK, and we gratefully picked up a King Size comforter, some pillows, as well as ice and more beer.

Now convinced we would survive the night without freezing, the feeling of relief was quickly subsiding… It was fully dark, and a feeling of diminished camping options was creeping in… We considered parking at the ASDA for the night, but unsure about legality and unwanted attention that our paint job might attract, we started searching for a campground…

Home for the Night!

Approaching complete exhaustion, we located the Devizes Camping and Caravanning site, about eight miles away. We pulled into the grounds and caught the eye of a young Kasabian fan. “Do you work here?” “Nope, you have to go inside the pub.” “Are you Kasabian? Are they in there?” “Nope.” We found the old attendant finishing a pint at the bar, and thankfully he had space for us… “How much?” “Extensions?” “Nope.” Krissy looked at me kind of crazy-like… Seems like I misunderstood… “Oh, twelve pounds?” “We’ll take it!”

Whew, what a day! We cracked into those cold beers and crawled in back to dream about what adventures the next day would bring…

Day 1, 117 miles, 6.5 Hours