Home, Sweet RV

One week after leaving our home and living between hotels and Mauricio’s parents’ apartment, we went with anticipation and relief to pick up our RV.

Reality check. It was still a body-wilting 100 degrees and more inside the stale RV. We had bought it used, and with a promise that it would be cleaned, detailed, repaired and with solar panels installed. The solar panels were, indeed, installed. But that was it. They didn’t install an inverter. And with our You Tube-based crash courses in off-grid solar under our belts, we knew that no inverter meant no outlet power. So all we would have was lights.

In addition, the cleaning and detail crew went to the full extent of releasing two air freshener bombs. That was it. And it still smelled like wet diapers. So after we did our walkthrough, we pointed out the dirt and the missing inverter and the five burnt-out lightbulbs and the missing door latch and, and. They apologized about the delay and said they’d need another day to get it ready.

Nope. We wanted that RV right now. So they fixed the door latch, replaced the light bulbs, knocked off $1,000, then four sweaty hours later, off we drove with Tommy and his pick-up towing our RV following behind us.

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Thank goodness for Tommy. That dude managed to get this 35-foot RV across a little bridge, a few steep inclines, around some tight bends and into place with the skill, if not the speed, of a race car driver.

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Our home in place, we celebrated with a late picnic of pupusas and a bottle of wine brought by Mauricio’s parents.

The whole weekend would be spent installing the inverter and cleaning like the Pine Sol lady, but with a less toxic concoction of vinegar and orange oil to get out the dirt and wet diaper smell.

Which, incidentally, came from the three used diapers I found way back behind the sink. Gross.

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