24th November - The Czech Republic

Monday 24th November

The “first week in Austria” - as I titled my last blog - was to be our first and only week there, as from Vienna the town of “Horn” was our last stop before making our way across the border into the chilly Czech Republic. Our first port of call was the large town of Ceske Budejovice where we spent one night, before moving onto the beautiful nearby medieval town named Cesky Krumlov.

Arriving at Cesky Krumlov by night was a fine way of arrival, as the town centre is surrounded by the impressive town walls and Castle, which when lit up appear rather fetching. We waited until late morning to wander around town which was - we were quite surprised to notice - rather busy with tourists for such a small place, but it didn’t take long to realise why they (we) were there. Cesky Krumlov is an extremely favourable little town, home to ample narrow streets which occasionally cross over pint-sized wooden bridges taking you over the river which meanders its way through the old, well preserved buildings. The Castle which is so clearly visible from afar offers fine views (pictured) across the centre and is only a short walk from the pretty main square.

When parked up in Krumlov, it felt, for the first time this trip, that it really was cold enough to snow. We waited another morning in the hope that it would, but to no avail. After the break-in in Marseille our rear window is still cracked which lets in the cold beautifully, so most evenings we find ourselves wrapped up warm or sitting around in our sleeping bags to fend off the chill, so we figured that as we’re already cold we might as well have some snow! We asked in a hotel if there was any chance of just a few flakes at least but the Receptionist assured us that we’d need to wait until December - “Too late!” - we’ll be in The Netherlands by then!

On the Tuesday we headed north again and drove back through Ceske Budejovice, up the number 34 to our next stopover town: Telc. As with many of the places we’ve visited on this trip, the only reason for visiting these small towns is due to recommendations from our Guide Book, and Telc was no different. “A Place of Extreme Tourist interest” the guide claimed. Now I’m not here to moan about places - Telc was a real Czech town with an elegant main square surrounded by two serene lakes - but to describe it was a place of “extreme tourist interest” was somewhat generous. Perhaps someone from Telc council cut a deal with the publisher?

Our penultimate destination in the Czech Republic was Kutna Hora, a town with strong silver mining heritage before moving on on Thursday evening to the Czech capital Prague. We had been warned that parking in the capital was said to be something of a nightmare, but we’d like to think that we’ve become somewhat experts at finding parking spaces in almost impossible places, so this warning didn’t bother us too much. However, the warnings were wise as the whole of Prague has been “zoned”, so wild parking has become practically impossible unless you want to risk a parking ticket. We drove around the centre and the outskirts for around 45 minutes looking for a suitable destination, but everywhere we looked was either restricted to “Residents only” or “2 hours max”. There were no campsites open according to our Caravan Club book, and we were not going to give up on seeing Prague (one of our most eagerly anticipated places of the whole trip) so we had no choice but to park in a “Residents only” section and risk it. For the whole 3 days we spent in the Capital there was plenty of spaces around us and we didn’t receive a ticket or get moved on, so for us it was worth the risk.

We were parked on the East of the city which is bisected by the formidable Vltava river, and our spot on “Stitneho (Street)” presented us with a pleasant 15 minute walk into the centre firstly downhill along the busy tram-lined street of “Seifertova” then through the luscious green “Vrchlickeno Sady” park until entering the centre via the main thoroughfare “Vaclavske Namesti” - also known around Prague as “The Main Square” (pictured). Vaclavske Namesti is lined with all the usual town centre establishments, a H&M, 2 McDonalds’, a Foot Locker, a Burger King, a KFC and 10 Exchange Bureaus. But what makes it impressive is the location of the National Museum directly at the head of street and probably the most striking building in Prague (pictured).

The rest of our time was spent idly wandering the streets, occasionally rewarding ourselves with a seat in a Czech Bar or two, then getting back up and repeating the process until we’d seen all that Prague has to offer - which, in comparison to all the other capital cities we’ve been to, is rather a lot. However, our most memorable hour came on Friday night as we were walking in the North of the city in the region of ‘Holesovice’ when lo and behold it began to snow - and didn’t it just! A good 2 inches fell and laid on the ground within 15 minutes, painting the city a fresh white and giving the town a whole new look that only snow can do. It continued to snow on and off until we departed on Sunday evening, but clearly nothing like what we were about to discover as we moved into Germany.

Upon crossing the border, bringing our 7 day spell in the Czech Republic to an end, we passed towns which looked deserted, for snow around 2/3 feet deep had covered everything from Post Boxes to cars. It could well be the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen, and it certainly is the most snow I’ve ever encountered. Thankfully the roads had been 90% cleared so the Motorhome wasn’t struggling, even on the slopes.

We now find ourselves in a small Aire for only 4 Motorhomes in Gelobtland (Mariensberg) (pictured) with Electric for only 4 Euros a night. The village is small, but we’ve spent 2 happy days here wandering around in the snow and building our first snowman, who we’ve named Bertie (don’t ask me why). We’re still wrapped up warm almost every hour of the day, and most of the time it’s colder inside the Motorhome than it is out, but at least now we’ve got a superb excuse to spend more time outdoors!

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Aire in Gelobtland + Bertie

Cesky Krumlov

15th November - Austria

Saturday 15th November

As things stand, there is simply no comparison to be had between Italy and Austria. In my opinion the two countries don’t even come close, certainly not close enough to be judged together. By saying that I don’t mean that one is better than the other though, just simply that the two countries differ too much to compare. Italy was Italy; brash, bustling but beautiful, and I must admit I thought our experience of Austria would at least have similarities but I‘ve been proved wrong so far. As soon as you cross the border into “Osterreich” you’re greeted into a very different world from the chaotic scenes we found in Italy; A world where lederhosen are still considered acceptable, a world where you’re not judged by how fast you drive and a world where, most importantly, you can relax. Austria offers a completely different experience from it’s Southerly neighbour, but it’s one which has been no less enjoyable.

From Venice we travelled north into the mountains and spent a chilly night and day in Cortina before bringing our 2 week long spell in Italy to an end by crossing the border at San Candido - a town we visited 2 months earlier prior to entering Slovenia. It was odd driving on familiar roads, and we even visited the same ‘Billa’ Supermarket (which Austria is certainly not short of (there’s at least one in every town no matter how large or small)) for old times sake.

‘Mallnitz’ situated right up in the mountains and on the edge of the ‘Hohe Tauern’ national park, was to be our home for 3 nights. The town, more of a village actually, was small enough to walk from one side to the other in just 5 minutes, but it was charming enough and surrounded by stunning scenery and ski slopes - minus the snow - for us to explore for 4 days. On the second day we traipsed into the thick woods and found a perfect location for a small bonfire; in a small clearing next to a minor but attractive stream. We collected fire wood during the day and at sundown (around 5.30pm at the moment) we set out to have the fire. It kept us warm and occupied for over 6 hours and it was a very pleasant evening indeed; just lounging around sipping beer and reminiscing about the past 5 months of travelling - how far we’d come, where the time had gone, and what was left to explore? The rest of our time in Mallnitz was spent either walking, drinking tea or avoiding the rain. Unfortunately the night we had the bonfire was the only time in Mallnitz when it wasn’t tipping it down, but we didn’t let that spoil our time in what was the closest we’ve come to the Swiss village Grimentz, in August.

Parking the Motorhome hasn’t been an issue at all so far in Austria, in fact calling it easy wouldn‘t do it enough justice. In every town we’ve found a small, free car park located only a few minutes walk from the centre with no regulations against Motorhomes. This has been the case for every town we’ve spent a night and day in, including: Spittal an der Drau, Radstadt, Eisenerz, Bruck an der Mur and Reichenau.

We’ve had the same routine for every place visited so far in Austria; we’d rise quite late, around 10am, cook breakfast, read a book and generally relax for a few hours, set off to explore the town then move on to the next location in the evening. It’s hardly an exciting schedule, but it’s one we’re enjoying as we aren’t rushed and we’re progressing at our own pace.

From Reichenau we drove the 70km to Austria’s capital Vienna, and managed to find a spot to eclipse all other previous good parking spots. Think Oxford Street in London, think Las Ramblas in Barcelona then think OpernRing in Vienna, and that’s where you’ll find little old Eric the Motorhome and it’s two young inhabitants! We couldn’t be any more central if we’d tried - the bustling, hurried High Street is no more than 100 metres from our front door - if a Hotel boasted that location they’d put an extra 300 Euros on the bill! OpernRing is a main street but has parking spaces along its side, separated from the road only by a thin line of trees.

Finding this spot put us in great spirits, which were already rather high just from being in Vienna itself, which is just as great as we’d expected. I hadn’t known a great deal about the city before I arrived (My only recollection of the place came in Russell Watson‘s “Ooh Vienna“) but Mike was awfully excited about it and assured me it’d be beautiful. And how right he was. Vienna is without a doubt my favourite major European city so far, beating off stiff competition from Paris, Madrid, Barcelona, Monaco, Budapest, Athens and Rome, who in turn beat off stiff competition from Lisbon, Valencia, Nice, Turin, Bern, Florence, Venice… I could go on! On the night we arrived we took the underground to ‘Praterstrasse’ to watch a jazz/hip-hop concert in the ‘Planetarium’. This wasn’t planned, nor was jazz/hip-hop mine or Mike’s first choice in music, but we’d heard the gig advertised on the local radio and we quite fancied a dance. Tickets cost 18 Euros which we thought was steep but we had a little spare change from the money we‘ve been saving on petrol. Austria has been the cheapest country for Diesel so far, even cheaper than Greece, as we‘ve regularly come across 1.09Euros per litre. The venue was heaving with people of all ages there to have a good time, and a good time we most certainly had.

The next day, nursing only a very, very slight hangover, we set off to wander the streets of Vienna and we spent the majority of the day doing just that. It really is a breathtaking city. It’s just in the process of preparing for Christmas, which I think is slightly too early myself, but then again in my home town of Eastleigh they put up the Christmas lights as soon as Easter is over, but in Vienna it has created an exciting atmosphere in the town as people relax from their Christmas shopping by sipping mulled wine in the many available Christmassy outlets.

We’re still in Vienna, after spending 2 nights in the parking spot which dreams are made of, and will move on this evening towards, but not all the way into the Czech Republic.

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Another decent parking spot, Radstadt.

Top photo: Bruck an der Drau

3rd November - Italy

Monday 3rd November

Did anyone else notice that we’re currently in November? When did this happen? Where has the year gone? Where has Italy gone for that matter? Since my last blog, Eric the Motorhome has visited Naples, Rome, Orvieto, Siena, Florence, Pisa, Parma, Mantova and now Venice (We tagged along too to keep him company). The three of us have seen all that and more in the space of 2 weeks - sounds pretty daunting really, and it’s hurting my brain just thinking about it. But there’s no denying though that these last two weeks have been nothing short of superb. Once you get your head around the Italians and their horrendous driving, you realise how much the country has to offer; Rich heritage, superb food, stunning coastline and beautiful towns.

We didn’t spend the night in Naples, only a day visit. To be honest the town wasn’t a particularly spectacular place, and I can’t say I enjoyed it much. The lasting memory I have of the day is driving through a ridiculously small street up a very steep hill right in the town centre, certainly not suitable for Motorhomes and barely even suitable for mopeds. We got stuck, got shouted and honked at, got very stressed but we did manage to survive. That’s all I wish to say on the matter really, oh apart from that we got lost for 2 and a half hours trying to get away from Naples itself. Not a good day.

After stressful drives around Brindisi, Bari, Pompeii and now Naples we were feeling a little, well, stressed. The beach was calling, and we found a superb one just up the coast from Naples near Formia. We weren’t sure which town we were in, if there even was a town, but we didn’t care and spent a long day sunbathing and preparing ourselves for the onslaught of more hellish driving on the crazed roads of Italy in the general direction of Austria. The weather in general has been quite fortunate since Greece - it’s worth pointing out - especially for this time of year. In the past two weeks we’ve only had the odd miserable day.

I’m pleased to announce that from Rome upwards people with automobiles in Italy don’t all appear to have a death wish, and our driving has been much easier and relaxed, with many more Aires signposted making things easier for us Motorhomer’s. Rome was as magnificent as I’d expected. We parked outside the town centre in an expensive Aire listed in the Camperstop Guide and caught the tram to the centre for just 2 Euros. 30 minutes later we arrived at Termini station and were able to use our tram ticket on the underground which we duly did. Ottaviano Metro station is a 5 minute walk to Vatican City, which by the time we arrived at midday was already heaving with tourists. There was a queue about a kilometre long just to get into St. Peters’, we didn’t join it. I would have liked to seen St. Peters’, which is apparently (please correct me if I’m wrong) the Worlds largest church in the Worlds smallest country but after examining the extraordinarily long queue we decided we’d rather spend the time wandering the streets and seeing the sights of Rome. We had use of the Metro if we wanted, but only needed it once to get to the Vatican - Rome isn’t a huge city, or if it is then we didn’t notice for the amount of points of interest around Rome to keep us occupied. The Pantheon was ten times larger and more breathtaking than I’d expected it - and ten times as busy - and the Fontana di Trevi (pictured) was probably the second most beautiful sight in Rome, coming in closely behind the Coliseum ruins.

A few very pleasant days were spent exploring Orvieto and Siena respectively, which were both charming old towns and certainly worth mentioning. In fact they deserve more than just a mention, but if I wrote in detail about every place we’ve visited in Italy I’d have to write near-on 10 pages - the country really is packed to the rafters with interesting towns, villages, historical sights and even beaches. We could probably spend 6 months just travelling around Italy alone.

We haven’t been completely rushed off our feet though, because we quite uncharacteristically stayed in Florence for 5 nights. This was partly by choice, and party forced upon us. The night we arrived in Florence we - as seems to be the way in every place we visit now - drove into a car park which was too tight and not built for Motorhomes, so had to reverse out onto quite a busy road. I jumped out and stopped the traffic to allow Mike to easily manoeuvre Eric onto more suitable ground. Mike lowered both electric windows to hear my instructions and we got out no problem, however as we drove away neither of the windows were returning to their closed positions. Very confused and getting slightly wet, we frantically pressed the buttons, re-started the engine and tried everything we could possibly have tried when left with nothing but a non-functioning window knob, but to no avail. The windows were stuck and there was nothing, at 10pm, that we could do about it. Thankfully - someone must have been looking out for us that night - we found a very quiet spot down a residential street close to the centre of Florence. Noise was minimal, although it was a little chilly that night.

Well we couldn’t leave the Motorhome to enjoy Florence so we had to fix the problem before we could do absolutely anything. It turns out the fuse had blown, and the second mechanic we went to easily spotted this and fixed the problem within minutes, but this took practically the whole day driving around looking for garages, and it didn’t help that the first place we visited was home to the only mechanic in Italy who didn’t know a thing about cars. Our second problem came on our third day when we thought we’d somehow managed to spill a glass of water without noticing, as the floor beneath our feet inside the Motorhome was wet. Turns out that, despite how clumsy we both are with water in the Motorhome, the internal water pump has a leak, and to this day we haven’t been able to fix it, despite going to a specific repairs centre for Motorhomes. We’ve sorted the problem temporarily by switching off the pump, and using only the water we have stored in 5 litre and 2 litre bottles. The floor is a little damp, and it’s a pain that we can’t use the taps for a little while, but you can’t have everything your way can you?

So that put a few extra days on our time in Florence, but we did stay there longer than expected even if we hadn’t experienced the technical faults. Florence is a rather small town and everything is easily reached by foot and can be walked around in a matter of hours - but it’s too beautiful to be wasted on just a few measly hours. We walked it day and night, and then went back to the next day to repeat the exercise. On our fourth day we stumbled across a second hand English book store called ‘The Paper Back Exchange’ which was a god send for us as we were running out of reading material. I managed to pick up three paperbacks for 3 Euros (Robert K Tenanbaum ‘Fury’, Ben Elton ‘Chart Throb‘, and Robert McCrum ‘In the Secret State‘). The store can be found in the cathedral square and is highly recommended. For the rest of our time we simply slowly wandered the pretty cobbled streets, took in some superb street performers (musicians, no clowns or jugglers you understand) and had a few reasonably priced beers in the local bars. It’s prettier by night, as the case with many places, and Florence really has an enthralling atmosphere which made it my favourite location so far in Italy.

See what I mean? I’ve already written too much and I’m only at Florence! I could go on, and on. I could tell you about our surprise at the lack of wow-factor of the leaning Tower of Pisa, the gorgeous town of Parma, the fantastic chocolate market found in Mantova, our hours spent losing our way in Venice or many other delightful experiences we’ve had so far in Italy, but I just don’t have the time to write it all - maybe I’ll save it for my book!

As I write this we’re the only people camped at a small but beautiful campsite called ’Al Bateo Agricampeggio’ in Punta Sabbioni, a 45 minute boat ride across the water from Venice. There was an Austrian Motorhome here yesterday but has since departed leaving us to feel a little lonely, but pleased as we can enjoy the brand new facilities all to ourselves. Italy started off quite stressful, very busy and a little rushed at first, but as we’ve moved north things have really slowed down and the country has shown us what a superb place it really is. We’ve seen such a vast amount of interesting places, experienced so much and eaten some brilliant Pizza. Austria is going to have a hard job impressing us more than Italy has.

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Attempting to fix our leak in a Florence garage

Parma





The chocolate market in Mantova

19th October - Southern Greece and early Italy

Sunday 19th October

Reluctantly we departed ‘Camping Hellas’ after a few relaxing days in the sunshine. We were fully charged with electric, topped up with 150 litres of water and we’d even managed to do some clothes washing - something we hadn’t done properly in… well I’d rather not say, for fear of causing offence. Nevertheless, we couldn’t stay there forever no matter how perfect a location it might have been. We had to move on; Athens awaited.

As far as free parking spaces go, we’ve had some ‘goodun’s’: A stones throw from the beach in Torrenueva, 5 minutes from La Ramblas in Barcelona, the ‘spot with a view’ overlooking Monaco and a dead centre location in Split, but our location in Athens beats them all hands down. Our Camperstop book told us there was some “tolerated but not official” parking available next to the Acropolis. We didn’t expect there to be any, but we had a look just in case, and were we thankful that we did. We managed to find a large car park about 3 minutes walk from the beautiful structure, and what’s more it was clearly visible from the Motorhome windows! We arrived at night, which is when the Acropolis looks its most stunning, and the car park was located next to some small shops (selling postcards and ornaments) underneath apartments with balconies with views of the Acropolis. I don’t think you could ever tire of that view.

I suppose this parking spot is a bit of a cheat, because the next day we were asked to move on by a stern but quite friendly gentleman who must have owned a nearby shop, but we didn’t mind as we’d already explored the city by the time he wanted us to vacate the area. Athens was by far the hottest city we’ve been to since Valencia (where we must have got through about 5 litres of water each in the space of a few hours). We weren’t expecting this sort of heat in mid October.

We did the usual tourist malarkey, visit the sights, buy the postcard, thinking but thankfully not buying the t-shirt, and them moved on the following evening to Ancient Olympia, the sight of the first ever Olympic Games. Entry to the sight cost 6 Euros, a cost we were willing to pay, along with literally thousands of others, a staggering amount for a Wednesday afternoon late in the year. The sun continued to shine, which allowed us to stroll pleasantly and slowly through the remains of old sports venues, houses, athlete only areas and of course the old stadium. The latter in reality is no more than a long strip of gravel in the middle of a large sloped field on either side, but it was still impressive to think that all those hundreds of years ago this was the very spot where the Olympics began, and is still going to this day.

In a short space of time we also managed to visit the archaeological sites of Korinthos and Mykines. Ancient Korinthos being home to the ruins of the 5th Century BC Temple of Apollo (pictured), which in 44 BC was made Capital of Roman Greece by Julius Caesar. Olympia though was to be the last of our historical sights in Greece, and on the Wednesday night we drove to a beach a few kilometres north of the airport town of Preveza, so we could spend a relaxing Thursday in the sun before our Ferry from Igoumenitsa departed for Italy at 1.30am on Friday morning. Relax we certainly did, breaking from the sun bathing only for the necessary. We were joined on the beach by three other Motorhomes from France and Germany respectively.

The Ferry crossing was uneventful and took 9 hours. We travelled with Endeavour Lines, and the total cost came to 160 Euros for 2 adults plus the Motorhome, not including the 30 Euros “Port Tax” they surprised us with upon checking in at the Ferry terminal. The majority of other vehicles parked up in Igoumenitsa waiting to board were Motorhomes, and by an amazing coincidence one of the other 2 British outfits was also a fellow Southamptonian! The gentleman noticed our Southampton scarf on the dash board, was equally surprised to see us as we were to see him so he came over to introduce himself - what a small world we thought.

After a brief visit to Bari we travelled West to the small town of Airola, 20 kilometres from Benevento in the direction of Naples. We were following directions for an Aire listed in the Camperstop book, which simply said “Tennis Airola”, not particularly helpful in a city you’ve never been to before. We stopped and asked for directions a few times, and eventually one man couldn’t explain the directions so he drove there himself and we followed, which we thought we very good of him. Upon arriving however we found out that “Tennis Airola” was simply a hotel which had a few Tennis Courts and Football Pitches - not exactly what our Camperstop book had promised us. The man we followed went into the hotel and spoke on our behalf until the friendly Italian American proprietor called Enzo appeared and told us we could park in his car park, and even lent us an extension lead to hook up to his electric - which was handy as we’d been driving around for a few hours in the hope of a few volts for a much needed cup of tea. Enzo was extremely helpful, giving tips on local attractions and things to see and even gave us his mobile number in case we needed anything during the night! In the morning he presented us with a bill of 5 Euros, unannounced. We weren’t too displeased (we should have expected it at a Hotel I suppose) but it would have been nice if he’d told us before hand.

From Benevento, Pompeii is a nightmare to reach if travelling by Motorhome. It’s only about 40 or so kilometres, but what should have taken us 30 minutes took more in the region of 3 hours. We found the SS162 quite quickly, the most direct route according to the map and a major-ish road to boot. After only 2 minutes it turned into a narrow street home to small shops and apartments which would have been more suited in central Venice than act as a direct road to Pompeii. Cars were breezing through without issue, but a large Motorhome like Eric was struggling through even the wider parts of the roads. Throughout the drive roads kept ending abruptly, changing names or heading in the wrong direction for no good reason other than to confuse the tourists, and of course there wasn‘t much space to turn around in a 7 metre long vehicle. We gave the locals a good laugh in a few towns though where we passed them on the same street 3 or 4 different times - each one harder than the last as yet another Fiat Punto had parked 2 feet from the curb.

We did eventually reach Pompeii, after yet more diversions due to the fact that the major roads into the town were closed because The Pope was visiting. At first we thought all the crowds gathered on the streets were there to welcome us, but apparently not. The ruined City of Pompeii was even busier than Olympia, but not surprising given the size of the “attraction”. It was much bigger than I expected, literally a whole city in ruins; hours it took us to wander it all. The cost was a very reasonable 11 Euros each, but for some unknown reason EU Citizens aged between 18-24 gained a 50% discount, which was given to us on presentation of our driving licenses. Strange but helpful to little scamps like us.

We parked up in a Campsite/Camperstop directly opposite the entrance to ancient Pompeii, buried by Vesuvius’ ash in 79 AD, costing 15 Euros with Electricity and shower facilities. After the long, stressful drive we were willing to pay this just to have somewhere safe to park… a hot shower was a major temptation too. I hope they’re powerful showers, hell they need to be!

Watching the Pope on the big screen

Waiting to board the Ferry at Igoumenitsa

12th October - From Bulgaria to Greece

Sunday 12th October

I thought for a second that arriving in Greece meant I was quite far from home and far from the normality of the UK, but after a quick impromptu glance at a world atlas I realised I haven’t even scratched the surface of this Earth - I’m still only an inch and a half from home. I can assure you it feels a lot further than that.

From Varna, on the Black Sea Coast of Bulgaria, we made visits to Velicko Turnovo (pictured left and below), Kazanluk and finally Plovdiv over the space of 5 days. The roads have been long and in most parts quite shockingly poor quality, many with pot holes so big you could get lost in. You’re charged 5 Euros for the “Road Maintenance Fund” upon crossing the border into Bulgaria, and my brother tells me it was the same when he visited 2 years ago, but we came to the conclusion that none of the money charged has ever made it close to the roads - or if it has then it’s being spent on signs that keep telling you they’re charging you for the privilege of experiencing such delightful strips of tarmac. On one occasion we went over a bump in the road large enough to take both of us out of our seats (and most of our belongings out of their cupboards), but not big enough to notice evidently.

Our last few days in Bulgaria were pleasant but uneventful, and we were keen to get to Greece not only because we’d spent a week in Bulgaria which meant our “Road Maintenance Fund” payment had expired, but we’d also heard that the sun was out across the border, which we hadn’t seen that properly since Southern France. We were getting withdrawal symptoms.

The Greek border crossing was muted in the evening, hardly a soul about, and we were an obvious nuisance to the lone worker who - can you believe it? - had to end his personal phone conversation to check our passports. What a terrible inconvenience we caused, how dare we? “If it wouldn’t be so much bother, here are our passports, Sir. We’d like to cross the border please, if we’re not being too much of a pain” was what we should have said, but of course we just smiled at the gormless face which stared back angrily until it grunted us through the gates. He clearly didn’t want to be there, or us either for that matter, so we promised him we’d never bother him again, apologised and moved on.

We’d just spent a good 5 hours driving south from Plovdiv, getting lost in a small town called Velingrad in the process. We were tired and it was late, so we parked in the first place we could find which happened to be a Lidl’s car park. We were only a few miles into Greece so we hadn’t missed much by driving at night - we’d wake up to it the next morning. The town we were parked in (which we later learnt was called Promachonas) was sleepy the next morning, and only a small selection of cars joined us in the supermarket. We didn’t hang around long, and made the journey down the E79 motorway to our first Greek coastal town of Salonika (Thessalonika). We’ve decided to use the toll motorways in Greece (our aim to avoid them throughout the whole 6 months has failed, boo!) because we only have 7 days until our ferry leaves Igoumenitsa to Brindisi on the East Coast of Italy, so we don’t have time to be getting lost on smaller roads, or getting stuck in 10ft deep pot holes which seem to be the norm in Eastern Europe. It’s a shame we can’t take it easier on the single carriageways, but after 3 months of them, driving on the motorways will make a nice change for a little while.

Salonika is a busy city, a very busy city indeed. We were stuck in traffic for what seemed like hours but was probably only around 20 minutes in reality, before we found a parking spot on the side of one of the main roads in town. We weren’t planning on staying the night, only a day visit, so we could afford to park the Motorhome on an angle and half way up a curb. It was a little abandoned, but that’s the price you have to pay if you want to see the big cities sometimes! The town centre itself seemed just as popular with people as the roads are with vehicles, and it was only 2pm on a Friday afternoon. The markets were doing brisk trade, the bars were full and the thousands of students were doing as students do best and sat around doing next to nothing.

The widely regarded symbol of the city, the White Tower (pictured), stands on the docks and looks impressive in the sunshine. It was once used to guard the east end of the city’s walls (many of which still remain) and it was even used as a prison, which is how it got it’s name as one of the inmates white washed the tower in return for his freedom. Unfortunately, like most historical buildings these days, the tower is now an overly priced tourist attraction, thus totally ruining the image of the structure.

We took the E75 South, towards Athens, ending up in a small village just shy of Agria and about 15 kilometres from Volos. This is our second night in Campsite Hellas (not just popular for it’s very original name) and costs 18.50 Euros a night with electricity and wireless internet. I decided to take my laptop down to the Campsites private beach - yes it has one - and write this blog. There really is something quite enchanting about sitting alone on a beach at night time. It captures the imagination. It’s calming. It was a warm evening, and the only sounds were the gentle waves crashing onto the pebbles, it was most enjoyable. As I sat there I thought that life doesn’t get much sweeter than this, and then it started to rain - further proof that I'm not as far away from Britain as I first thought!

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An amusing toy found in Salonika

5th October - Southern Romania & Early Bulgaria

Sunday 5th October

It’s an odd feeling knowing that we’re almost finished with Eastern Europe, it only feels like a few weeks ago that we were getting stuck in sand in Northern France, or running away from the Bulls in Pamplona (almost), but in fact it‘s been 3 months…3 bloody months!

Well, we now find ourselves right on the edge of Europe in Bulgaria; and here’s how we got here from Northern Romania.

Before venturing to Bran Castle, to visit Dracula, we made a few stop offs. Our first one came in a town called Sighisoara, which we visited only because our road map claimed it to be a ‘place of interest’, and our second being in Brasov - around 170 kilometres from our last city Cluj-Napoca. We spent 2 nights in Brasov which is pleasant and peaceful by day, and lively by night. The city is centred upon the large square, which is home to what appeared to be half the worlds population of pigeons - perhaps they all moved here when they were banished from Trafalgar Square a few years ago. A pint of beer in one of the local bars cost 6 Lei (£1.20) which made a hell of a nice change from paying the equivalent of 9 Euros for one pint in central Switzerland.

Brasov is only a short drive to Bran Castle, which I must be say was a huge disappointment. We were travelling there expecting a superb structure on top of a large hill, but in fact found quite the opposite - yes, a meagre building on a mound, but they were still charging an entry fee of 10 Lei. The cheek of it! We didn’t bother going inside as it would have taken around 5 minutes to explore the whole building, which we weren’t that impressed with anyway to be honest. There was a large market at the foot of the mound which we stumbled across, but unfortunately this was quite as disappointing as the castle itself. All the stalls sold were Dracula tat. Dracula hats, Dracula t-shirts, Dracula mugs, Dracula water pistols, Dracula pens, Dracula masks… all absolute rubbish which wouldn’t be good enough to use as fuel for a bonfire. Needless to say we didn’t stay long and later that evening we made the 160 kilometre drive to the Romanian Capital, Bucharest.

Bucharest was nothing like I’d expected it. Everywhere we’d travelled so far in Romania was deprived and run down. Stray dogs wandered the streets, beggars were commonplace and the whole country seemed somewhat underprivileged - however, Bucharest couldn’t be more different. Let me tell you know, it is a very, very rich place indeed. Mercedes and Ferraris whizzed past at 100mph, and important looking men and women waltzed along wearing expensive Armani suits - it’s almost as if there is actually money in Romania but all of it has fallen on the capital alone, which notably is not a tourist town, but simply a place of work for the masses. This doesn’t mean it’s not a fine place to visit however, in fact there are some stunning buildings and plenty of good bars, it just isn’t your typical tourist location like Budapest was, for example.

We parked right next to the Hilton Hotel, which is in a fantastic central location for exploring the city, perfect for Motorhomes and only cost 8 Lei for the day, and they didn’t mind us staying over night. You’d have to arrive in the evening as we did though, as during the day it’s too busy for a Motorhome to manoeuvre easily but it starts to empty as the workers go home at around 6pm. We decided again to ask at a Petrol Station to hook up to their electricity, and the gentleman (who spoke perfect English) was more than pleased to allow it, and told us we could stay all night if we wished! We didn’t need to, but it was very kind of him to offer, and of course this allowed us to recharge all our batteries before moving towards the Black Sea.

We left the Petrol station in the evening, and were too tired to drive anywhere far so we parked up for the night in a Carrefour/Ikea Car Park which was colossal so nobody asked us to move on. However, what we didn’t expect was to be woken up at 8am by the sound of knocking and shaking at the Motorhome. I was instantly up (I’m quite a light sleeper, I think I get it from my Dad) and woke Mike up as soon as I knew what was going on. I looked out the window and saw it all in the shadow from the street lights. “Mike, wake up, there’s someone on the roof.” “What the….” was the censored version of the reply I received. We were a little concerned obviously so ran outside straight away to find the culprit a small child, who witnessed two extremely tired Englishmen gifting him with shouts of anger and orders to get down. He was only a young guy, and clearly homeless too (there are many throughout Romania) so when we realised this the shouting subsided but he still ran away as fast as he could after climbing down the steps at the rear of the Motorhome. After a quick inspection, what he was doing was trying to steal our bikes which are housed on the roof; all the ropes were untied and the top bike had been moved as if he was prepared to throw it to the ground which would have no doubt rendered the bike useless anyway. Looking back it was quite a funny event, but if I’d have lost my bike I’d have been fuming - so I’m just thankful I woke up in time to scare away the little scoundrel.

This wasn’t to be the end of our troublesome events in Romania unfortunately. Later that day we drove along the number 3 main road towards the city of Constanta, but we didn’t make it. After crossing the River Danube just before a town called Cernavoda, our rear right side tyre burst and we came to a sudden halt on a roundabout after just exiting the Motorway. Although we were frustrated at this, we suddenly realised how lucky we had been. If that tyre had burst just a few minutes earlier when we were doing 65mph on the Motorway, who knows what would have happened?

We were stranded on the side of a busy roundabout, so we knew we had to act quickly and instantly got out our warning triangle, traffic cone, fluorescent jackets (by this time it was late at night), torches and relevant tools for what we thought would be a simple tyre change. It turned out to be anything but. We’d managed to change the tyre without incident, in about 15 minutes, but it was ensued afterwards which caused us problems. As we went to drive away again, the wheel appeared to be locked and we couldn’t move, we could reverse about half a foot but that was it. We were sure we’d done everything right but not being mechanics, we had no idea what the problem was. We tried looking and fiddling for a few minutes in the hope that something would give, but to no avail. We had no choice but to walk in the dark of night to the next town, which was Cernavoda, and seek help. By some miracle, the first person we came across spoke perfect English. “What do you need?” he asked us. We weren’t exactly sure, so all we said was a telephone number for a breakdown service, but instead he kindly offered to drive us back to the Motorhome to inspect the problem first, which we accepted. He made a few telephone calls to a mechanic friend of his, but by this time it was very late, gone midnight, so nobody could come out. We tried to take the wheel back off, but one of the bolts was stuck; no matter how hard we tried it just wouldn’t budge. We had no choice but to try and get some sleep by the side of the road, and our new friend (whose name is Adrian) said he would come back in the morning and bring along the mechanic and try and get us sorted. We were extremely grateful for his generosity and we exchanged telephone numbers so we could meet up again the next morning. What we didn’t expect was for him, half an hour later, to return with a basket of food and drink for us, including hot Pizza, Cheese, Bread, Fruit, Milk, Orange Juice and Chocolate! We hadn’t asked for this at all, but we were absolutely touched by his kindness - it was probably one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for us - especially someone we had only known for about an hour!

To cut quite a painfully long, tedious story a little shorter than I could make it, Adrian’s assistance was incredibly helpful, and his Mechanic friends were able to sort the problem, which was partly (or perhaps, completely) our wrong doing as we’d used the wrong bolts for the new wheel. We’re stupid English kids, what can I say?! We were only charged 30 Euros for the mechanics time - I can’t imagine how much it would have cost in the UK - which we were more than happy to pay. What is more important than getting our problem solved however, is that we have made a fantastic new friend in Adrian from Cernavoda. We swapped email addresses and he was even keen to hear about our travels, so I gave him the link to this blog. The compassion he showed to us that night was invaluable as it saved us having to call out what would have been an incredibly expensive Breakdown company, and if you are reading this now Adrian, we are very grateful. Thank you!

As I write this, we are currently parked up at yet another Petrol Station (a ‘Shell‘, this time) hooked up to the mains. I absolutely recommend this to all Motorhomer’s travelling in Eastern Europe. It’s exceedingly helpful and, as we’ve experienced, if you ask nicely the staff are more than happy to allow it. The station is located in the Bulgarian town of Razgrad, in the North of the country. We’ve just spent a pleasant few days in the coastal town of Varna, where a pint of local beer cost 2 Leva, which is the equivalent of, wait for it, 70 English pence! 70p a pint! Well it seemed wrong not to have at least three... at least I think it was three!

Having a break in Romania

Not quite Dracula, in bran

Adrian (centre) and his two mechanic friends

Budapest & Early Romania

Saturday 27th September

We managed to park up in Tesco’s for 2 nights without any problems, which was handy because we would have struggled to park anywhere else in Budapest (legally) as it was constantly extremely busy both with vehicles and pedestrians. It was a 2 kilometre walk into the town centre down the “Kossuth” which took us past the Budapest National Stadium and the very grand train Station. My first impressions of Budapest were very favourable indeed, and we walked all the way past the town until we reached the swift river Danube, where we took a leisurely stroll along the riverside to the neo-Gothic Houses of Parliament building on the bank (pictured). It’s an extremely impressive structure; one which we gazed at for a number of minutes, but it certainly isn’t alone in terms of beautiful buildings in Budapest. The other one of note - which actually took my breath away upon the first sighting - was the Bazilika (pictured). It’s housed in a large square which makes it unnoticeable from afar, so it crept up on us somewhat when we suddenly saw it though a gap in the shops.

Budapest was certainly impressive, and due to its immense size could have been explored for a few more days, but we got itchy feet and made the short drive north to Ezstergom the “Medieval Capital of Hungary” on the Slovakian border. After a quite a while looking, we couldn’t find any evidence for this dramatic title, but we did manage to find Hungary’s largest Bazilika (Church) on a hill overlooking the Danube and across into Slovakia. The views were impressive and the Church was also, but not quite as memorable as the one in Budapest.

We were running low on all things electrical as we hadn’t had hook up since Slovenia, but what with their being no campsites and certainly no Aires in Hungary we had no choice but hope to stumble across an electric point somewhere. We first looked in a Tesco’s car park, then a Lidl’s (which I have to add are absolutely everywhere in Europe) but had no joy. After driving around for a few hours I had to idea to go and ask at a Petrol Station - they surely would allow us to cheekily hook up for a few hours if we asked nicely. It was very late, probably around midnight, so not many people were around so I thought if you don’t ask you don’t get and went in all smiley and polite and used my best sign language to indicate what we wanted. The female attendee was very pleasant but had no idea what I was asking, so she rang a friend who spoke English and put me onto him and after a while she understood and allowed us to connect for 3 hours! This allowed us to have a few cups of well needed tea and re-charge things like mobiles and the digital camera. We were very grateful of course and this perhaps is a good tip for Motorhomer’s who decide to venture into the unknown, or Eastern Europe as it’s sometimes called.

A few days later and we find ourselves in our next country, Romania. They’re coming around quick, these countries. The border crossing was non eventful, which made a nice change. Unlike most crossings, there was only one set of police, and they were friendly and let us through after checking our passports - no funny looks, no searching the Motorhome (as happened when we travelled into Hungary), no Green Card, no “illegal stuff” accusations, just a smile and a wave. One of them even said “Goohd Bay” which I thought was nice of him. The first city we drove through was Oradea although we didn’t make a stop. It was a pretty rough town. At each set of traffic lights there were small children who ran up to the Motorhome and begged for money which was very sad indeed. There were hundreds of hitchhikers all trying to flag down each car that passed, trying to get wherever they could - presumably anywhere other than here. Along the E60 which takes us into the Centre of Romania, and eventually on towards Bucharest, were even more children begging next to run down old houses, most of which were just shells of houses that used to be.

Romania has certainly been the poorest country we’ve visited so far - hopefully this sort of poverty isn’t a common sight across the whole of the country.

Our first port of call was the city of Cluj-Napoca, which is much more developed than Oradea but still hundreds of desperate hitchhikers and beggars lined the streets. We saw a VW van pull up along a bunch of around 10-15 hitchhikers, and as soon as it came to a halt they all ran towards the van pushing and shoving trying to get onboard. It was an odd experience, and we wandered why these people were so desperate to leave, not seeming to care where the driver was heading to. We are heading via a few cities towards Bran Castle near Brasov where Count Dracula was known to reside, Mike tells me he was just fictional but I’m still hoping to meet him myself so will keep my fingers crossed.

Cluj-Napoca, away from the Highstreet

Budapest