I remember a young family next to our pitch. Their toddler found a stick and called it her “fishing wand.” She spent an hour trying to catch a leaf. Her dad filmed it on his phone, laughing the whole time. That’s the memory you keep.
Another time, a couple in their seventies parked beside us. They’d been coming here for twenty years. The wife pointed to a big oak tree and said, “That’s where our dog is buried. We still bring him a biscuit every visit.” It choked me up—the loyalty people have for this place.
The George Inn also has a little board with local walks. One takes you to a meadow full of wild garlic in spring. We picked a handful, and the pub chef fried it into our eggs the next morning. Food doesn’t get more local or more memorable.
So, Why Should You Care?
Because life gets loud. The Riverside Caravan Park feels like a deep breath. You don’t need a big budget or a fancy setup—just a willingness to slow down and let a river set the pace.
It’s the kind of place where you forget what day it is. You measure time by meals, walks, and cups of tea. And when you finally pack up to leave, you’ll already be planning your return. The river will still be there, waiting for your next stone to skip.
So grab the keys, throw some sausages in a cooler, and head over. The George Inn will save you a seat by the fire. The river will hum you a lullaby. And you’ll remember what it feels like to just be.
