Untitled - Beeldbibliotheek

256 CARAVAN DAYSof them, whole and separate, well within mygrasp. I am ready to stand a cross-examinationupon them, and I defy my questioner to stumpme. I could tell him where it was at our campat Douglastown or at any other camp that Ifound a safe resting-place when I went in theevening to empty Jessica. I could tell him withouta moment's thought in which directionHerbert set off for the milk at Kincardine O'Neil,or whether there was shopping to do at Coldstream,or at which camping-ground the newloop for the ink-bottle was inaugurated,or ifthere was any rain on the march from Perth toDunkeld, or where we stopped to pick up waterfor lunch between Thurso and Johno' Groat's.Each day stands out apart likea bead upon astring. That is a quality that Caravan Daysshare with no others. When I have gone toVenice for the first time or travelled throughCanada or visited the Alps or met with any othergreat and fresh experience, Iafter just what Icannot say monthsdid from day to day, howeverclearly I remember the outstanding moments.But itmay be that caravanning has no outstandingmoments : that all is levelled up to anew plane where nothing specially memorablehappens because everythingis memorable.