Epilogue

So, safely home in Weymouth after an amazing 3 weeks. The worst traffic problems in Europe we found on the M20, M3 and A31 on our journey back from Dover, the trip usually takes 4 hours, this time it took 7.
The final night in Dunkirk was a pleasant night sat around eating too much, having a few drinks with friends, dishing out some certificates for the survivors and germinating a few ideas for the next time....
The next time... Yes, I know, barely back 5 minutes. I have to say though, I've enjoyed the planning of this one so much and the feedback has been so positive that I don't think I'd be allowed to just stop at one. Yes, at times it's been hard work and yes, it has been stressful. I dare say it's also been stressful for the family and I probably have wittered on a bit too much at times when a new idea or train of thought had come along. Many ideas have arrived, been evaluated and binned, but I have to say, I'm pretty happy with the format that we arrived at. It was a challenge, but an enjoyable challenge and we have had a great deal of fun in the process.
So, you'll probably want some kind of evaluation of how the teams, and vehicles have performed.

TEAM 3, TEAM TRAUMA. Mark, Ben, Roy and Syd. Arrived late for the party, driving out to meet up in Debrecen. Amba, having coped with the 37 hour trip, then dumped fluid all over the place as her power steering broke. Soon fixed though and they caught up again a day or two after. Amba didn't much like the big hill climbs and overheated at times, possibly due to excessive weight being carried. I'm led to believe they will be jettisoning some equipment to help this issue. Always good for a bit of banter and did amazingly well on the charity collecting front, exceeding £4000.

TEAM 5. TEAM RED 5 Martin and Harvey. I think even they must have had some serious doubts about Doris and her ability to get round. The old girl had a cruising speed of about 48 mph and suffered a bit in warm weather. Much tinkering with moving fuel pumps and wedging the bonnet up to allow more air in. With the two of them and all their kit, her suspension was also under some strain. However, she got around and not only that, claimed the title of being the first to complete the list of 23 countries. Fantastic effort to coax the old girl out of retirement and coax her through such an epic test of endurance. Martin says that next time he wants something a little faster. Like a milk float.

TEAM 6. TEAM MILLY Lucy and Jim in their pride and joy. They only got a camper van because I did and since then, about 18 months ago, the pair of them have worked extensively on Milly (together with their incredibly supportive and helpful neighbour Steve) to produce a well equipped van with bed, fully fitted kitchen, extensive electrics and much bling (including the much heralded illuminated spice rack). Milly, with all of her power points became known as 'The Mother Ship', where everyone went to dock their chargers, power cables, etc at each camp site. She had a couple of mechanical problems including a snapped fan belt and some bolts shearing off, as well as the regular overheating issues, but managed to catch up each time, much to everyone else's pleasure, as a trip without i-phones, camera batteries and chocolate fondue would have been unthinkable.

TEAM 7, TEAM LOTUS John and Eddie/Steve/Steve . Team Jedward as they were christened on the first week. Even when Eddie had gone home, the name stuck. With the completely rebuilt white Lotus, John and crew mate for that week would show up at various camp sites, mountain peaks or restaurants from time to time, before disappearing to more upmarket accommodation. Not big camping fans. I think they thoroughly enjoyed the hill climbs of the Transfagarasan Highway and the Stelvio Pass. John seemed to have a fixed silly grin on his face at the top of both. Eddie/Steve/Steve had all booked up for one week each, but I believe all, having experienced the trip were keen on extending their time or returning for a second go. Hopefully I'll be able to find some more decent roads on the next trip for them.










TEAM 12, TEAM FREEDOMSCAPING Or Team Mobile Brothel as they were more generally known. Marc and Sarah were strangers, thrown together as their previous team members couldn't make it. The pink Bedford suffered a few issues from day 2, a fuel pump sucking the fuel tank out of shape and brake cylinder failure. It seems that Bedford parts are a little tricky to get hold of on the continent. The AA cover that Marc had taken out proved to be good value. The van is still in the process of being repatriated. They had a night in a hotel in Prague then a hire car to catch us up, where they merged with Team 38.

TEAM 14, TEAM NIGHTMARE The Nightmares, Holly, Mark, James, Vicky and Cat. A team thrown together by chance as the original idea of an 'Old Gits' police team seemed to fall apart, in favour of a younger, more vibrant mixed team. Ladiva the LDV van coped very well, I'm not aware of any technical issues. I didn't venture inside though, it was described as 'a bit of a mess' on a few occasions. Another good effort on the fundraising front and I'm sure we shall see most, if not all of the Nightmares on the next trip.

TEAM 19, TEAM CHAMELEON Father and son team Richard and Mark in their hot hatch, the Proton Satria. First to sign up, first to get a car, first up just about every mountain pass we went for and frequently first to camp sites, even arriving a day early on some occasions. Richard was frequently busy with his camera, Mark effervescing about a particular drive or another. The only reported issue on the car was an irritating knocking from the exhaust that they fixed. Despite thrashing it up and down the Transfagarasan and the Stelvio, she seemed to perform very well. Stylish graphics too.

TEAM 23, THE MOWLAM MOB. From the moment that Chris and Steve turned up dressed as gangsters in their outrageously decorated Mobster with the eye lashes that Steve despised, you knew these two characters were going to be the life and soul of the party. The Mobster performed very well, the only issue I heard about was a leaky tent attachment in the thunderstorm on the Transfagarasan. I think this issue is going to be corrected. Over £1400 raised for charity. Great fun to have around and very hopeful we shall see them again on the next one. With the eyelashes reattached.

TEAM 25, TEAM TERRAS Ralph and Deano. Lived off a diet of sausages and lager in their Kia 4x4. The car performed very well by all accounts. Ralph was going to sell it but says he hasn't got the heart to now. Deano had a habit of over inflating his airbed, making me wonder if it would explode, splattering him around the interior of the car. They survived though.

TEAM 27, THE NEWLYWEDS Nik and Gemma, with their chauffeur and mechanic Craig. They arrived in style in their elegant white limousine Olly, in smart wedding attire. The three of them entered in to the spirit of the event from the off, great characters. Alas, Olly malfunctioned in Germany with alternator problems. They thought it was going to be curtains, but managed to acquire a new one and get it fitted, delaying them about 24 hours in a small German town. Olly also had some fan issues later on, but nothing that Craig and Nik couldn't sort out. I'm still amazed at how they got this vehicle around some of those tight hairpins on the Stelvio Pass. Despite their tendency to follow the wrong non league team (Brackley fans, how ghastly), I guess we would put up with them on another trip.

TEAM 31, THE SWANNERS Don and John in their Citroen C5. I think John, as a car salesman, had picked up a bargain there. I'm not aware of any mechanical issues. Every so often as I was driving along, quietly minding my own business, there would be a toot of a horn and these two would sail past. They joined us for a few meals. Prague, Brasov and Ruse spring to mind. we even had them camping in Prague, but I don't think a night under canvas appealed.

TEAM 38, TEAM JEZEBEL My team and strangely, the largest team. We had 8 members, but never more than 4 at a time, bolstered by the arrival of Marc and Sarah from Team 12. Jezebel performed far better than my expectations. I thought we were in trouble at Goslar on the third morning when the loud crack heralded 2 snapped hinges, but with the washing line and gaffer tape securing the roof, she hung in there like that for over a week until we fixed it in Greece. The brake pads were in a bad state and were replaced in Croatia. Beyond that, it was fairly superficial. Windscreen wipers fighting, floppy wing mirrors, the interior carpet on the roof falling off, a cupboard hinge breaking, that sort of idea. We coped and improvised. I'm still amazed that she got up that Albanian goat track in one piece. Hill climbing on the Transfagarasan and Stelvio were no problem. Hoorah for Air Cooled vehicles ! Even my basil survived the trip.

TEAM 41, THE SWANNIES Even though Richard had been signed up for a long time, he was left without a co-pilot at the last minute. His father Peter was half way through a kitchen refit when he was told he was coming. Initially Peter only planned to be there for a week, but enjoyed himself so much that he stayed for the full trip. They took the hotel option but still popped up at various locations, including the top of both Passes. The sinister looking black Lexus scared poor Robin in Albania as he thought he was being followed by the mafia. Richard completed all of the driving, covering just short of 6000 miles. Good effort, but strangely further than many doing the full 3 week trip.

TEAM 42, LIKE A SWEED Our Swedish contingent, Martin, Anna and Jonas. Signed up late and acquired a Peugeot estate for the trip. They also brought bicycles and would frequently vanish to cycle amazing distances. Anna even chose to cycle up the Transfagarasan Highway rather than drive. The car, alas, suffered a few issues. Exhaust related mainly, which finally persuaded them to head for home a few days early. Just about always the first team up and away in the mornings as they tried to fit as much in to the trip as humanly possible.

TEAM 46, TEAM TRIGGER. Robin and Sam, later joined by Natasha in Romania and their thirsty, but trusty wagon Trigger. Despite a fair number of mechanical issues before we set off, Trigger seemed to perform well on the trip. Being a 2.8 litre vehicle and being stuck in 4 wheel drive they left the fuel stations across the continent bereft of fuel. The main issue that Trigger had was in Ruse, where the passenger window refused to go up. Luckily, after several hours of taking it apart in the rain, Robin was able to pinpoint the issue. Human error. The window locking button was doing it's job correctly. Who will forget Robin dancing in the dark in Poprad, covered in LED lights ?

TEAM 48, TEAM SUPID (aka THE WHAM BOYS or TEAM HIRE CAR). Billy and Sam set off for the Windy Lite version, but opted to take in Switzerland on the way. Having thrashed the life out of their Toyota Supra, it's gear box packed up in Austria. This is where the car stayed for the next 10 days or so as the boys completed the majority of the trip in their hire car, thanks to the AA again. The hire car came in for a bit of doctoring whilst on the Transfagarasan, being covered in Windy stickers. The Supra managed to join the party for the last few destinations, including the Stelvio Pass.

So there you have it for this year. Our trip is over, it has run it's course, barely a set of memories and thousands of photos. But, charities (mainly Julia's House) will have seen the benefit. Friendships have been made. Everyone is older and wiser and full of stories to bore the pants off those who didn't come along this time. I've had an amazing experience, met some great people and I'm very pleased that I took that leap and started to plan this adventure.

So, what next ? Well, give us a chance, I'm only just back through the door. There has got to be plenty more of Europe to see and experience, who knows, we might even venture briefly beyond the boundaries of Europe sometime. The next route is in my head, just needs some investigation and fine tuning. That will be June 2015 (23 months and counting down...) There may also be a shorter, British tour next summer (2014). I'll keep you posted.

If you have any comments or feedback, I'd be delighted to hear them. If you want to be kept up to date of future Windy 500 events, please register your details with me at spooky388@hotmail.com .

Thank you for reading, it's been a blast.



Spooky

The Last Post

Ypres in Belgium. Almost 100 years ago it was the scene of some of the worst fighting of the First World War. Like Auschwitz, countless thousands lost their lives here. At 8pm each day the traffic is halted and a bugler plays the last post. We are heading there today on our way through to another iconic destination with Second World War links, Dunkirk. 

The Last Post connection is ironic as this will be my last post (abroad at least) on this blog as tomorrow morning we shall be boarding the ferry for home. 

Teams Nightmare and Trauma packed up and headed for the ferry bright and early this morning. With work on Monday for several, a day at home with loved ones and washing machine beckoned. Nightmare left us a parting gift of Cat. She is a temporary Team Milly member for the last 2 days as she tries to squeeze the last few ounces of holiday out of the trip. She'll be dumped out at her friend Angie's house in Weymouth for a bath as they pass through. 

Someone decorated Amba last night. No idea who. I was fast asleep when it was done. Honest. ;-) 

I was asked by a journalist to pick out my highlight of the trip and send him a few of the best photos. To tell the truth, I can't. I have so many great memories from so many great places. All so different too. I have a fair number of great photos too, as have many others on the trip. 

When we were in Venice I asked 3 others for their highlight of the trip. I got 7 answers. I asked one other and got another 2 answers. People came on the trip not knowing what to expect but in just about every case have been surprised by what they have found. Attitudes have been changed. We had someone who had never camped before who listed wild camping on the top of a mountain in a thunderstorm as one of her highlights. Another team who were dubious about entering the Wild West Country of Albania who were bowled over by the friendliness of the locals. 

From my own point of view, I was asked a few years ago how much I hoped to raise for charity. I plucked a wildly optimistic figure of £10,000 out of the air. By the time everything is totted up when we get back we should have raised in excess of £17,000. I am obviously delighted with that. 

Again from a personal point of view, I've travelled and seen some fantastic places. Some I had seen before, many I had never seen, some I really want to return to sometime. It's been a taster session of Europe. As promised, we had variety. City's, rural locations, mountains and beaches. 

Lastly, from a personal angle, I've made some great friends. Some real characters who I would be delighted to go on holiday with again. I don't think there was a single person on the trip who I wouldn't be happy to travel with again. It's really what makes a trip, the people you go with, and on that score I was very fortunate on this one. Everyone has gelled and socialised with each other. A great bunch. Thank you one and all for putting your trust in me. I hope I delivered. 

And so, what next ? Where do we go in the future ? Well, I can tell you the rough date will be June 2015 and the fact it will be about 15 days long, but in true Windy style, there's no way I'm telling you where. That would spoil the surprise. 

So, have I inspired you ? Have you followed this blog wondering if you had it in you to do something like this ? Life is too short. You have 2 years to plan it. Take that step in to the unknown. 

 This time we had participants ranging in age from 5 to 70+. We had campers and we had teams who stayed in hotels all the way. We had teams from Devon, Dorset, Oxfordshire and even Sweden. 

If you are interested, drop me a line. spooky388@hotmail.com. Just to let me know that you may be interested and I'll keep you in the loop for the next one. Now this next one is going to be awesome......

Signing off from the continent. 

Spooky

Autumn

It really feels like we are drifting in to the autumn period of the trip. Not only is the weather feeling more autumn like as we head north, compared to the sweltering heat that we were experiencing in Greece, Bulgaria and the rest of Southern Europe, but there is that feeling that things are coming to an end soon. A resigned sort of feeling that the holiday is nearly over for this year and everyone will be going their separate ways. On the plus side it means that we'll be returning to loved ones back home, sleeping in permanent beds and enjoying those home luxuries that are currently missing on vehicles but may well be added for the next trip. I can't, for example, imagine doing a similar trip with only basil in my mobile herb garden. Some vehicles don't have bottle openers. I'm sure that will be fixed for next time too, along with a whole load of not exactly necessary bling I expect.

Being one day ahead of schedule in effect, due to not stopping in Austria, meant we were now looking to take in the Grand Prix and even camp in one of the big, official Nurburgring camping sites. Alas, on arriving there we found that they were only taking people for 5 days for a whopping 65 euros a head. 

Being a relatively small group now helps with flexibility though. A new, alternative site at Schuld was found, by the River Ahr. Best of all, we discovered on arrival that they had a beer vending machine, producing chilled bottles of beer for a euro. 

By 8pm we had 8 teams there, enjoying a pleasant evenings socialising. A few teams were in a hotel in Koblenz, one more in another hotel in Germany. The Swedes were heading to Denmark so Jonas could join up with the Tall Ships Race. The Swannies had arrived home after a driving marathon. The Wham Boys in their Supra had set off home via Sam's girlfriends in Switzerland. 

As for Doris the Morris ? Well, she had set off from Freiburg with Martin and Harvey, aiming for Calais and home. Martins wedding anniversary was on Friday, so he felt obliged to forego the Formula 1 in favour of flowers and romance on the home front. A text during Thursday afternoon from Martin claimed a first on behalf of Doris. They had passed through Luxembourg, being the 23rd country of the trip. Doris was therefore the first vehicle to complete a full Windy 500 tour. Quite ironic as they were, almost without fail, the last team in to just about every camp site. They deserve the recognition though for daring to take such an elderly lady on such a huge challenge. 

And so, an early start on Friday to get to the Nurburgring. Parking was organised with ruthless German efficiency and 30 euros secured us seats in the stand overlooking the first bend after the long home straight. It's a hairpin and the stand also gave a view over the next few bends. At just after 10am, cars started screaming down the straight and braking hard to get around the bend.

The noise was phenomenal. 190 mph down to 30 mph in around 70 metres. Not sure Jezebel could manage that sort of braking, even with her new pads. Then again, I'm not altogether convinced she could manage 190 mph in the first place.

You can do lots of things in Jezebel, cook, sleep, socialise and transport kit, but you can't do 190 mph. I've tried it, you can't. 

The Angels of Davos

It's a bit chilly in Switzerland. My little brother tells me, in between mouthfuls of freshly grilled bacon and maple syrup pancakes, that it can get really hot in Switzerland. Personally, I've never witnessed this. I'm dubious. It's a very pretty country, picturesque and clinically clean and tidy, but it's chilly. The towns all have beautiful wooden clad alpine buildings, the cows all look manicured. I think the farmers even bag up their poo after them. It's that kind of place. Immaculate.

We had two bikes in the back of the van as we set off, so we had to jettison some useless baggage. Marc and Kev to be precise. They joined the rabble on Team Nightmare for the short hop to Bregenz in Austria via Liechtenstein. 89 miles and only 2 google hours. That's at least 3 normal hours. The sat nav suggested that the route involved a ferry, which had us scratching our heads. 

20 miles further on we found the 'ferry'. It wasn't a ferry at all, it was a train under the mountain, an expensive, car carrying train under the mountain. 26 euros. We turned around and chose a different route. 

As we ascended towards the ski resort of Davos, we caught up with and overtook (oh, the thrill and excitement !) the poxy modern ambulance of Team Trauma. I found a bend with good view and shot out and around, giving them a polite salute (alright, some sort of salute) as we did so. 

The top of the pass was back above the snow line. We are seeing a lot of snow on this trip. Cue an impromptu stop with the Nightmares and Trauma. Not to be outdone by my snow angels, Sid and Roy engaged in some topless snow wrestling (just 4 guys travelling across Europe in a van.....).
 Onward, through the fairly dull, denture producing minuscule country of Liechtenstein and in to Austria. It was raining. 

Blimey, see what I did there ? I covered a whole country in 11 words. If there are any Lietchtensteiners reading, I apologise. I'll try to add more detail. Liechtenstein is, along with Uzbekistan, a double landlocked country (landlocked by other landlocked countries), it has more companies registered than population ,it is the sixth smallest country in the world and yet is still able to give the England football team a good run for their money. 

So, Austria and rain. The prospect of Pimms and Gin and Tonic on the grass overlooking the lake wasn't looking so appealing. Murmurings came over the Internet from other teams suggesting an alternative plan. Pushing on. A quick check and most were in favour. Millie, with our two Swiss residents would have to stay in Austria but others were keen on taking in Thursdays drive as well to get us closer to the Nurburgring for the Grand Prix practice on Friday. 

We chained the bikes to the front entrance to the camp site to be collected by Adam later and set off for Freiburg. 

This was when I realised that the excess baggage could have been useful. I was the only insured driver. 8 hours after leaving the campsite in Switzerland we finally located Camp Hirzburg, or Stalag 13 as it was soon dubbed. The camp is run by a fussy little chap ( the commandant) who is there to enforce the rules, to the letter. No BBQs. No noise after 10pm. Steve Mowlam was told to turn his car radio off at 6pm as others could hear it. No mobile phones to be used outside after 10pm. We plotted our escape but with the gates locked until 8am we were forced to start a tunnel using our cutlery. I've noticed some strange occurrences happening in the last day or two. Somebody seems to have left graffiti on our bumper. 

And rather bizarrely, a table, a chair and some very hefty potted plants had made their way to outside the van from the entrance of the site. Now, I'm not one for pointing fingers ( breaking them, poke them in eyes, yes, but pointing, no), but I can only predict this sort of behaviour will lead to some sort of retribution. Who knows, it may have already happened :-) 

The Imposter of Red 5

How many Morris Minors do you see on the roads of Britain ? They aren't that common. So, what are the chances of finding two heading up towards the summit of the Stelvio Pass within 30 minutes ?

We had reached the top a few hours before. What an amazing bit of road.

38 hairpins to the top, steep drops, amazing views and hard, rugged mountains in all directions. Plenty of snow too, despite the time of year. The top of the pass is 2760 metres, so we guessed it was going to be a bit challenging. It certainly was. The road we took to get to the bottom of the pass was also amazing. From Monno, (we had intended to approach the Stelvio from the north, but failed), the road wound up through tight little hair pins through the trees. Jezebel's turning circle isn't too bad. Better than Olly the limousine or Amba the ambulance for a start. How they would cope with these turns was a minor concern. At the top of the pass, we let Jezebel have a break. As soon as I opened the door I could hear bells. Cow bells ! Lots of them. Such an iconic sound of the Alps. Couldn't see them but we could certainly hear them. 

The road plunged down the side of the mountain until it hit the road to Bormio. Now, I thought Bormio was a skiing resort, but it is only at 1200 metres. A little worrying that the top of the Stelvio is 2760 metres. That's a lot of climbing. 

As we started to ascend, the sat nav looked like someone had scribbled over it. The first hairpin on the road SS38 is numbered 38. The number comes down with each hairpin. After 10 and a few narrow tunnels, Jezebel was getting a little warm so we pulled over. Above us was a series of hairpins as far as you could see. Marc took over the driving. Jezebel wasn't too happy but was making steady progress. We even overtook some cyclists. Finally, after a few stops for cooling and photographs we emerged at the summit. There was deep snow, drifts of several feet in places. Parking is difficult, mainly due to bikes (many of them British.) 

Team Chameleon, Richard and Mark, pulled up. I think they had been cruising up and down solidly since yesterday evening. 

Soon we were joined by Don and John of Team 31. Soon after Richard and Peter of Team 41. The Newlyweds texted to say they were having cooling issues as their fan had come loose.

Nightmare and Trauma had found the correct route around to the North and were making slow progress up the mountain as Amba was overheating regularly.

2 hours we waited with nothing but a massively overpriced Bratwurst for sustenance. Well ok, we could have had as many overpriced bratwursts as we liked but we were there a fair while. I risked frost bite by getting snow in my sandals. Now, that's a rarity. Trauma and Nightmare finally arrived. 

Milly reported being close so we drove back down the south side to watch them coming up. Doris appeared, travelling at some speed. Martin and Harvey reported their second Windy overtake previously, a very unwell Olly. 

The Lotus was whipping up the gradient. Strangely it was Vicky at the wheel. John had kindly let her have a quick spin. She had the same silly grin on her face that they had had. 5 minutes later Milly appeared over the horizon. A few overheating issues had slowed them down and the sheer drops with no barriers had caused Lucy a few concerns but they had made it. There is a route from near the top of the Stelvio that takes you in to Switzerland and towards Zernez, our next destination. The road on my iPhone looked a bit wavy. Alas this doesn't tell  you if it is going up or down. Trauma, being concerned about how Amba would cope with more up hills, decided on a longer route....via the ski resort of Livigno. A strange choice. 

As we descended on our chosen route, we saw a Morris Minor approaching us. A second Morris Minor in 30 minutes. This one was apparently driven by two 19 year old students heading to Istanbul. These Morris drivers are insane. 

And so we arrived at Campingplatz Chapella. A quiet, rustic little site.

It seems there are a number of permanent residents here and a good number of regular visitors, including a couple from Poole, barely 25 miles from home. Helpful chap too, he's fixed our fuse so we have a full set of working lights. Bargain !The little bro arrived and has been taken back under the wing of his mother. He's having chocolate fondue and beer. Temperature is dropping. Glad I'm in a van tonight.

Fishermans Friend

Who in their right mind would ever think of flavouring vodka with Fishermans Friends ? Vicky Bailey apparently. It was an odd concoction, but it cleared out your passages. By the third glass I could breathe through every orifice. Jim had a few glasses, and a few of the very cheap coffee liqueur and possibly a beer or two to mix it all together. Hence Jim is in the dog house this morning and they won't be setting off for a good while. I blame Vicky. 

It's yet another beautiful, tranquil spot we have found ourselves in. Right on the bank (and I do mean right on the bank) of Lake Iseo in Northern Italy. Perhaps slightly less well known than its big brother Lake Garda, but nonetheless a stunning place to pitch up at after a long drive yesterday afternoon from Venice.

Now that should have been a quick two hour drive but due to a lorry load of broken glass spilt on the motorway, we were delayed by a few hours. 

Mark of Team Nightmare and Mark of Team Trauma had introduced me to a phone app which allows you to see where they are, and vice versa. Great, really useful, until you take a wrong turning, then everyone knows and can text you some abuse. 

And so, tired, sweaty and hungry, we found ourselves at a gorgeous location with cheap Italian food and even cheap Italian beer. A round of 3 drinks here cost the same as one drink in Venice. 

Venice. Where we found ourselves around lunchtime. This was my third visit and it is still fascinating. 

I would urge anyone who hasn't been to go there. It is truly an iconic, unique city. Go there, but for God's sake do not buy an umbrella. The Japanese tourists are attracted to them in swarms. The number of people I saw proudly showing off their new umbrellas, not realising that there were hordes of Japanese tourists following them in a silent flock, and once they start, they are almost impossible to shake off. 

Team Trigger had split up for the day. Tasha had gone to Venice by limo with the Newlyweds to allow Robin and Sam to visit Lake Garda instead.

Team Chameleon, eager as ever, had skipped Venice in the hope of returning some day to do it properly. They had aimed to camp at the bottom of the next days destination, the Stelvio Pass. Unable to resist, like a couple of small children with a pile of Christmas presents and no adult supervision, they had taken the Proton up and down in the evening, just to try the road out. I dare say we shall bump in to Mark with a silly grin later on today judging by the gushing, excited texts all evening. 

Team Lotus, aware that the destination for the day was Venice, had booked themselves in to a swanky pad on the waterfront near St Marks Square for 60 euros. Great place to stay for the night, unless you intend to push on to the northern tip of Italy the next day. It's a bit of a haul. 

And so, as various teams sip coffee, pack tents and contemplate life on the banks of Lake Iseo, somebody is working hard to make a rendezvous with us. My little (alright, younger, he's about 4 inches taller than me) brother Adam is cycling from his normal abode near Saas Fee to meet us in Zernez. It's a bit hilly that Switzerland. I'm glad we have a trusty, mountain climbing camper van. 

Lets just hope Jim is in a fit state later for a bit of socialising with his offspring. 

All Roads Lead to Trieste

I was up early in our cosy little camp site bit by the time I had blogged and emailed, Trauma and Nightmare were on their way and just about everything on our van was packed. I drove us along the windy coast road heading north, through Rijeka towards Trieste airport. I was enjoying the feeling of having proper working brakes as we swooped around the corners. Eileen was navigating, using both bloody Garmin and Tom Tom, trying to convince us that his infernal machine was trustworthy after all. 

Having been through Trieste to get to the airport, Eileen kindly offered to set the Tom Tom to our next destination, Predjama Castle. He set it then left us to fly back home to London, wife, work and sleeping in the same country every night. We'll miss him, but not his navigational skills. 

I followed the sat nav instructions out of the airport. After 15 minutes I saw we were travelling back towards Trieste. Like a fool I trusted it until we were approaching the outskirts of Trieste. I pulled over and checked the sat nav. Bloody Priddy. He had set it to central Trieste. I turned around and set it for Predjama, avoiding all motorways. We got on the main road towards Slovenia until I realised that it was just about to take us on to the motorway and I was going to have to buy a vignette. Damn sat nav. I pulled off, only to find that the road was heading towards......Trieste. 

It took a fair bit of effort to avoid Trieste, but we finally crossed in to Slovenia and found the back roads to Predjama. 

It's a fascinating castle, it's sticking out of a cave. 

If you are wondering why there is a hairbrush in the photo, it's because my dear wife Jo is always asking where her hairbrush is. I haven't used a hairbrush in about 20 years. Rather kindly (foolishly) she has left her hairbrush on the van. Her hairbrush is now sending her photos back from around Europe. It has asked me to set up a Facebook account (it's a hair brush, it can't type). 

As we left Predjama, Teams Nightmare and Trauma rolled in to town. They had been caving apparently. We left them to view the castle whilst we lunched on burgers the size of dinner plates. 

Camping Pivka Jama is hidden away in the Slovakian woods near Postojna. It's a surprisingly large camp site. It has pools, shop, volleyball courts and extensive wooded camping areas. We found a large gravelly area (great for camper vans, not quite so good for camping on) and found that Red 5 and Chameleon were already in residence. We were soon joined by Trauma, Nightmare, Team Terras, then The Mobster and Trigger. Team Lotus and the Swannies were in bungalows. Milly drifted in then the Swedes in something sounding like a tractor. A hole in the exhaust was causing a few issues. Nothing that a tin can couldn't fix. 

And so, an evening of boule, cards, reading and banter in the Slovenian forest. 

Tomorrow we are off early to find another truly iconic European destination. Venice. Would a trip around Europe be complete without it ? 

Aye Aye Aye Pad

I'm afraid I don't speak any Croatian. There are however some words, phrases and sayings that take no translation though, such as the comment made by the Croatian mechanic in the garage we had pulled in to just south of Split. He had just removed the front wheel of Jezebel and was looking at the brake disc and pad. His comment, which I understood, was "AYE,AYE,AYE". Well, that'll be a new pair of brake pads then.
Now, the more tricky part. Croatia is just about to go in to shut down for a long weekend as they celebrate joining the EU. With Saturday lunchtime rapidly approaching, the manager of the garage was desperately phoning around to find spare parts for a 32 year old VW Camper van. He spoke very little English, so conversed with me in German. After I had told him to look out for wombats (it's the only German I know. That and apple juice, but I didn't think that was appropriate in the circumstances), he reverted to sign language. I gestured at my watch, he, rather worryingly, gestured at the calendar. July 2nd ? Oh hell.
Finally, he packed us off to a restaurant for an hour. As we returned, I was a little surprised to see Jezebel being driven down the road. I had mixed feelings about this. Good that she was now apparently fixed, bad that she was apparently being stolen. He brought her back 5 minutes later, so all was well in the world. 80 euros later and we were heading north once more to collect Evil Kev from Split airport.

We had already traversed one country by breakfast time. If you travel up the main road from Dubrovnik, there is a 10km section of Bosnia, forming it's only piece of coastline. This was going to be one of our 23 countries, albeit a brief one. We got out of Croatia without any issues. The border guards didn't even want to see our passports. I then looked out for the entry barriers and checkpoint for Bosnia. Now, sometimes these can be within a few metres, sometimes a few miles of no man's land separate the two. This was obviously going to be a long no man's land. We skirted around the resort of Neum. I recognised it from photos when I had been researching the area. Still no entry checkpoint or insurance office. A few minutes later, we spotted a checkpoint. On arriving it was the exit checkpoint for Bosnia. We had crossed the country (well, the little corridor) without being able to buy any insurance.
A border guard who spoke very good English pulled us over. He asked to see the insurance document. He pointed out that we had no insurance for Bosnia. It seemed a bit pointless to buy it now that nothing untoward had happened. He let us off with a verbal spanking. Now, I would normally buy insurance where possible, even if it isn't going to be checked, however with insurance companies in England refusing to insure vehicles travelling to non EU countries and nowhere to be found to buy insurance in the country, we were a bit stuck. Add this to the fact that there was no indication to say that we had entered Bosnia until we were leaving Bosnia....
Anyway, we survived and continued up the stunning Croatian coastline. Whilst the main group were heading for Plitvice Lakes, about 2/3 of the way up the country, after collecting Kev and fixing brakes, I was concerned that we would be getting to the lakes a bit late. Coupled with the fact that Eileen had a date with Ryanair at lunchtime the following day, so an early start was required, I announced that we would be heading to a beach resort further up the country instead of the lakes. Others followed suit.

The Gentlemen of Trauma and Team Nightmare found Camp Ujca, close to Senj. A compact little camp site nestling in a rocky cove. No idea why but the water was Baltic.
Team Red 5 and Doris had also pushed on, past the turning to Senj and were looking for camp sites near Rijeka.
Team 41 reported in from a hotel at the northern tip, watching fireworks to celebrate the arrival of the vast EU subsidies heading Croatia's way.
Team 19, eager as always, got the e-mail for the following day and arrived at the destination a day early, to allow them to find a bar showing the British Grand Prix.
Team 48, The Wham Boys or Team Hire Car, desperate to throw off one of their titles, had pushed on towards Austria to trade in the hire car for the trusty(?) old Supra. They'll see us tomorrow. So, spread out over 3 countries and about 6 locations. That is the beauty of the event though. It doesn't really matter. Each team is independent but can link up with any one or more of the other teams. They can chose the recommended destination, or find something that suits them better.
That saying, I'm hoping we shall all meet up tomorrow in Postojna, Slovenia. It's a beautiful little country and Predjama Castle is a funky little castle sticking out of a cave. That's where I want to go. Sarah however has plans to visit Lipica. They have a large glue farm there, full of dancing ponies. Pure white Lipisana Horses are bred and trained here. Ghastly, horrible place that I was subjected to last time I came to Slovenia. Please, please, please, don't put me through that dancing pony show again.....

The Frog Chorus

Paul McCartney I'm guessing has never been to Lake Shkodra Resort. It's a fairly new camp site on the bank of the lake. Swimming is quite possible (as I demonstrated this morning) having been rudely awakened by the rampant frog population of the area. Gee, there must be thousands, if not millions of them.
I was in up to my neck by 7am. Needless to say the frogs had scarpered and couldn't be seen. It was pleasantly warm though.

A full English breakfast, Albanian style. All for under 4 euros, as the warm sun rose and started to make it pleasantly hot. We hit the road at the crack of mid morning with Eileen driving. He soon ran in to trouble when he was pulled over by the Albanian police. They had obviously heard about the abuse he had put poor Jezebel through yesterday. They shook our hands, warned Eileen to turn his lights on when driving, then sent him on his way with a warning.
We arrived at the border to find a long row of lorries patiently waiting and a small Morris Minor. Doris it seemed was a bit of a celebrity. Even the police there were taking photos.
The road took us towards the capital of Montenegro, Podgorica, before winding through the mountains (they are more grey or green than black, despite the name of the country). Finally we emerged out above Bhudva on the coast.

We had a luncheon appointment at Kotor, on the banks of the fjord. Alas, we missed Kotor and found our way to Tivat for our lunch. Must have been Eileen navigating again. At least it wasn't an Albanian goat track this time, but a pleasant harbour with tall ships and gin palaces and views across the fjord.
Time waits for no man though, we were off again, heading for our third country that day. The brakes on Jezebel were grating worryingly and pulling to one side. As we queued at customs in the hot sun, with the air cooled engine not getting any through air, I turned off the engine. She didn't want to start again. The alternator has always caused me a few issues, but with the engine heat evaporating the fuel, she was very reluctant and now had not one, but two flat batteries. Ralph was just behind us, we had to encourage the queue to go around us so I could bump start her in reverse, then try to force my way back in to the queue. We got there in the end.
Dubrovnik is a beautiful old city. Big, creamy coloured walls, crystal clear water, elaborate carvings and oodles of history. Marred perhaps by over commercialisation and over charging. The car park cost us 23 euros for 4 hours, even though we were only there for one.
We pushed on north to the camp site at Tresteno. Less than half the price of the one close to Dubrovnik. The teams are all closely parked near the entrance and after a fine meal from our ration pack supply, everything in the world is rosy. The coastline of southern Croatia is phenomenal. Islands clutter the sea and the cliffs and turquoise waters and setting sun just set them off perfectly. I was driving alas, so the others may have some good photos.
Team Nightmare got searched at the border for drugs. None were found. Several teams have chosen to stay in Dubrovnik. Personally, I prefer the peace and tranquility and getting back to nature. Mind you, I said that last night and found myself in the middle of a frog orgy.