The spaces between the vans

An original literary non-fiction-style account of spending an evening at a camper-van site.

Our van was the smallest in the row. We had chosen it because the advertisement promised that everything fitted inside. This was true until we tried to make supper. The saucepan needed the space occupied by the folded bed, and the bed needed the space occupied by our bags. My partner placed the bags outside and announced that we now had a kitchen.

Next door, a man unrolled a carpet onto the grass. His wife brought out two chairs and moved them until they faced away from the road. They sat without speaking, each holding a book. When a dog crossed the carpet, the man lifted his feet to let it pass. He did not look up from the page.

Across the path, three friends were trying to level a table. Every adjustment made the glasses move in a different direction. They laughed loudly until one person put the glasses on the ground and asked them to stop lifting things for a moment. A little later, they were eating from the uneven table with the glasses beside their shoes.

I went to ask where the water tap was. Before I could speak, the woman with the book pointed behind the washroom. She had seen me carrying the empty container. Then she returned to her page. I thanked her without waiting for a conversation to develop.

After supper, we put the bags back inside and sat on the step. From there, we could hear several conversations without belonging to any of them. My partner asked whether I found this unfriendly. I said that I had been given directions before asking, and that nobody had asked us to join anything. For that evening, the combination seemed exactly right.

What do you learn about how people share the space at the camper-van site?