Blackwall Plantation Caravan Club Site, Kirk Ireton, Ashbourne, Derbyshire, DE6 3JL
 
It was a warm summer evening when we arrived at 8.30pm at the Caravan Club Site, Blackwall Plantation, Derbyshire for a pleasant weekend away. The kids were excited, their bikes and scooters in the caravan, eager for a quick whiz around the site. Unfortunately, our hopes were dashed when we were greeted at the gate by vice warder/ Obersturmbannfuhrer Eva Braun.

Mr. Fantasyphil, you're late, was the greeting.

She then proceeded to show us our night stop in the late arrivals area. In disbelief, I pleaded to her softer nature, showing her the kids faces pressed eagerly against the mondeo's windows. No...no.... she persisted, you'll disturb the other inmates.....sorry. ahem,.... campers. I glanced over the gate into the site, seeing kids cycling round, people barbequing, a group of at least twenty sat round, laughing and joking, one fellow strumming on his guitar. "I'll have to ask my husband," she consented.

  
Out trooped her husband, Strandartenfuhrer Mr. MacKay (her previous marriage to a Herr. Hitler had been annulled) who informed us our pitch, pitch one was less than 10 yards away from where the car was parked at present. He ummmed and ahhhhed, and then consented to allow us to park the caravan on it's designated spot. However, under no circumstance were we allowed to put up the awning, as this unearthly sound would be sure to cause distress to the prisoners around us. 
In under two minutes the caravan was on it's pitch. Legs down, and I carefully removed the duck tape from the children's mouths incase they should disturb the partying, guitar playing folks around us. I settled them into a noiseless activity- "Junior Scrabble", removed their bikes and scooters from the van, and then contemplated where I was going to put them, the George Formby grill, the microwave, the deckchairs etc for the night.
It was then I decided to be very naughty......more drink was flowing around the van.......people were laughing, children playing, and the guitarist was now breaking into "The Best of Bob Dylan". Realizing the van was facing away from Eva and Fultan's I decided to take the risk, and slipped the awning into it's awning channel, making every attempt possible to hush this ear splitting activity. I didn't dare, however, attempt to knock the pegs in, so settled for an awning that flapped and was drafty all night.
After 15 minutes the job was done, we played with the kids inside the van and settled them down in their bunks for the night. My partner and I then sat in our flapping awing and chatted (quietly) over a bottle of wine.
We were woken next morning to the noise of barking Alsatians, the shouts of, "Juden! Juden! Rausse, rausse!" We approached the shower block, and was quite disturbed by the empty cans of Zyclon B littered around. I have never been on a Caravan Club site where a Crematoria was an added facility! We then got our day passes and left the camp for the day to visit surrounding Derbyshire.
  
We returned to the camp just as 100 campers were being released. Apparently their names had been placed on a list by a Mr. Schindler. We lit our Barbeque, and was greeted by Chief Warder/ Oberfuhrer Joan "The Freak" Ferguson. "Hello, Mr. Fantasyphil," she sneered, adjusting her black leather gloves, "I've been meaning to speak to you."
She then proceeded to discipline me. I was then reprimanded for putting up the awning, and cautioned that awning walls are very thin, and I kept her from her beauty sleep by chatting in the awning till late.
 		  
The next camper I chatted to, was Mrs. Erica Davidson, warder of Wentworth Detention Centre, especially Cell Block H. She periodically brings her staff and inmates here as she likes the discipline at Blackwall Plantation. You've got to remember she told me "On the inside the sun still shines, and the rain falls down, but the sun and rain are prisoners too, till the morning comes round."
She introduced me to one of her charges, a Mrs. Bea.Smith.		  
  Bea, who was caravanning in the Bailey Senator next to us was dismayed to hear of our treatment by the warders. We apologized in advance, if we had woken her by our hushed voices the night previous, though she had no idea what we were talking about.
"The screw's on this site are sticklers for the rules," she told us, "Just keep your heads down and spell here will pass quickly."

It was with relief that we vacated our pitch on Sunday. I have been on many sites but never made to feel so unwelcome as I did on this site. The site was up to the normal Caravan Club high standards, however, a team of officious jobsworths made our stay thoroughly unpleasant. Throughout our stay I was made to feel like a naughty schoolboy, quite a strange feeling for a school teacher of fourteen years. Maybe, the fact that I was borrowing a caravan, with the registration plate taped to the back window, led the warders to believe that I was new to all this and they'd put me off, has crossed my mind. I am sure if this had been my first trip out in a caravan it would definitely have been my last. Luckily, I know this has been my first, and hopefully my last, experience of such hostility, hostility that I was paying by the night to receive.

So, as promised in your Visitor's Book, Warders of Blackwall Plantation Caravan Club Site, I pay tribute to you.