A chance discovery of an odd paragraph in an old paper and we have a story . . . of an escaped crocodile on the run for four days from Arbroath caravan park, trying to make his way down a drain, to a burn where the fisherwomen washed their laundry.
As a teenager, I grew up in Norfolk, England and the area was full of caravan parks where, as I came of age, I worked in the clubs and pubs, making cocktails and many other less glamourous tasks, so caravans and caravan parks still hold a nostalgic fascination.
The image above somehow has a disaster movie feel about it as they stagger away arm in arm after a giant crocodile has sat on their caravan.
What an exquisite story ! realistic linen gives the charming link to the humorously naive design
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