The Epic Family Road Trip

It’s been far too long!

When I departed the Campo in early December 2022 for the epic road trip I naively thought I would be taking copious notes every day along with the many thousands of pictures and have the time to write up my weekly blog posts. The notes and the thousands of pictures-yes, but time to sit and compile thoughtful blog posts every week was just not a possibility.

Once through the fast highways of central Europe, the scenery and places were just too interesting to be typing on my laptop and evenings were filled with work, family, laughter and wine too of course.

So here I will do my very best to catch up and share some of the real highlights of my epic adventures across some 16 countries. I hope to come back and expand on some of the places that were so spectacular and worthy of more musings in the future too.

Last Christmas ….

The previous Christmas (2021) was spent all together in the Campo - but with 10 days of persistent rain, even the usual board games lost their appeal after a while. The Campo house is perfect for summer entertaining and sees much of it too, but in inclement weather, the inside space is too small for a large family gathering - let alone cooking anything like a Xmas dinner when the solar power isn’t charging. And entertaining a 7-year-old for 10 rainy days in the Campo became challenging in itself.

The whole family voted on finding a Christmas destination with a large enough house for all of us and something that would entertain the small person in the event of bad weather - so they chose skiing!

I’m not one for cold weather, nor am I very keen on snow apart from looking through the window at pretty white mountains whilst pouring mulled wine. But even I could see the appeal of snow-capped mountains for the festive season and we eventually settled on Bansko, Bulgaria.

Doggies Come too

With the whole family travelling then no one had doggy cover, so of course, the dogs had to come too. Woody and Tillie are experienced travellers by now with their regular road trips across Spain and France to the UK. Tillie is as unhappy in the cold as I am so we both needed lots of fluffy jackets and blankets available throughout the trip.

My friend and I travelled in the big yellow camper van from the UK, not really for sleeping in, but as a mobile kennel/kitchen/wardrobe and sometimes bar. Having the space and comfort of the VW Camper means we can drive that bit further each day than a conventional car as well as having lots more storage and of course, in an emergency (or milder weather) - also sleeping space.

The route

On leaving the Campo I had to attend a meeting on the lovely small island of Ibiza which also happens to have a large proportion of my friends on it too, So the first three days of my trip were a short hop over there and some very welcome cheery evenings.

A quick flight later up to the UK to see friends, and meet up with the doggies and camper van and we set off across to France on the Eurotunnel.

At the tender age of 18, I worked in a large office block in central Reading that also housed the architects who were working on the planned drilling stages of the large underground tunnel that now connects France and England by train. That sure made me feel old as I drove the big yellow truck onto it at Folkestone.

France, Belgium, Holland, Germany and Austria were under thick snow as we passed, but sticking to the motorway meant some good, clear roads and extremely pretty views. Whilst some of the family deviated to see towns and highlights along the way, we pushed through to Budapest to have a 2 night stop to explore the city.

Although deliberately not travelling in convoy, much merriment ensued each time we overtook one another on a motorway with a lot of beeping and flashing lights and Ivy eagerly waving at us all. My daughter and Grandaughter had opted for the ferry crossing to Dunkirk and we ended up meeting in Belgium for brunch which was a wonderful start to the trip. Large packs of Haribo’s may have fallen into her little hands as we set off again - the joy of being Nanny.

Pearl of the Danube

As the big yellow truck rolled into Budapest, Katey and Ivy raced to catch up and spend some time exploring with us all. I absolutely loved the city. Vibrant, friendly and so much to see, it is definitely on my list to return to with much more disposable time. Despite the sub-zero temperatures Ivy proudly taught me how to ride an electric scooter along the river with the dogs galloping alongside us on our way to lunch - an activity I possibly shan’t repeat for the safety of other pedestrians and small animals.

We were also immensely grateful to find new super antifreeze for the windscreen washers at Tesco in Budapest that allegedly stayed liquid to -35 degrees centigrade. We had all battled with frozen windscreens ever since departing the UK, the one issue was trying to defrost and empty the existing, frozen solid (good to -20 anti-freeze) out of the washer bottles. By the time we reached Bulgaria we just about had it sorted.

I was slightly less grateful at receiving the parking ticket, although completely my fault - unloading the overnight gear and the doggies and all their bedding etc took longer than the allowed 10 minutes outside the hotel apparently.

To Ivy’s great delight, Grandpa regales her with stories of the rivers around the world that he has been caught short at (ok - that is somewhat more polite phraseology than Grandpa’s) as we went our separate ways towards the Romanian border Ivy was thrilled to receive the WhatsApp message that Grandpa was now able to tick the box of the Danube river too.

Passports Please

Going our separate ways didn’t last too long, Ivy soon wanted to be in the big yellow bus with the doggies and I think her Mum was quite pleased with some quiet driving time too. What I hadn’t thought about was the approaching border post and Ivy’s passport was in their car so Katey ended up having to wait up ahead until we caught up to retrieve it. This border leapfrog continued all the way to Bulgaria - we always seemed to end up with either Ivy and no passport or the passport and no Ivy.

We had always planned to traverse Romania as a convoy, we were travelling far off the beaten track to see some of the more remote places and staying in low-budget, roadside lodgings and I also wanted to share the experience with Ivy too.

With Ivy sitting up front in the truck she had the very best view of all that we saw along the way and we could spend as long as she liked chatting about the history and the things we saw. Such a precious time to share all of that with her.

We were now entering countries I had never visited before and on a road trip, it can be hard to really explore, especially with the two dogs always at foot. We were met with a great deal of surprise when we checked in to lodgings each night that we weren’t leaving them in the yard or even in the truck.

Explaining Tillie’s abhorrence of the cold and Woody’s separation anxiety is difficult in English, never mind any other language.

Other than chatting with whomever we could find on route to learn more, Ivy and I would head to a small village supermarket each day to replenish the supplies and we just loved those times. Seeing how local people shop and the availability of produce gives a real insight into different worlds.

Never having the correct local currency was always a talking point. We would offer up Euros, US Dollars and whatever we had left from the precious country to much amusement.

After one amazing dinner in a restaurant in Vidin, Bulgaria we desperately wanted to leave a tip for the staff and between those dining, we had 8 different currencies and yet no Bulgarian Lev. I am sure they were happy with the larger notes we left anyway.

Since my childhood, I have collected foreign money in a wooden chest and we often peruse all the different currencies and of course, the corresponding stories of the trips where they were gleaned. At the end of this epic road trip, I had about 8 more currencies to add to the collection when I got home.

History Lessons

Pregnant with my son 30 years ago I ran a large humanitarian organisation sending medical care, clothing and urgent supplies to the region that was suffering so badly at that time. I vividly recall being one week away from my due date and still having not assembled the cot as my small house was full from floor to ceiling with boxes of aid. No mean feat in the days of no home internet or mobile phones either.

Now as a family, we were driving through the very places that had been so ravaged back then discussing the history at a level that an 8-year-old can handle. Coupled with Grandpa’s stories of his first travel within the USSR en route to Pakistan in 1973-apparently a lot of steam trains and transport by horse and cart, which particularly excited Ivy.

As we traversed the diverse and less travelled roads we received warm welcomes. and quite a lot of surprised looks too. Our gaggle of animals, people and children in a big yellow bus must have been quite amusing. I could never have envisaged visiting in this way 30 years ago when the former Yugoslavia was in complete turmoil.

Baubles and All

It was with some glee that Katey and Ivy arrived at the chalet in Bansko, Bulgaria ahead of all of us lot. That was quite the unpacking job. Katey is THE Christmas elf, her car from the UK was stuffed to the roof with everything from paper chains to make, Xmas eve stockings for everyone (including the dogs) to pin the nose on the reindeer games. Never mind all the confectionary and chocolate that she knows we all love.

Within an hour of arriving Ivy was top to toe in neon, waterproof gear and heading for the mountains. The mulled wine and homemade cake beside the fire whilst settling the dogs in was a much more attractive option for us oldies.

But you’re never too old to learn to ski apparently. The kids eventually persuaded me to get togged up and join them for a lesson on the slopes. I have to admit - I quite enjoyed it and four hours balancing on two slippery planks later I had still not fallen over. I decided that was the '‘quit whilst you’re ahead moment’ and also those concrete-like ski boots had just about severed my calves by that point. Another activity I shall possibly never repeat, but could not possibly go to a ski resort with all the family and not have a go. My competitive nature just wouldn’t allow that.

The festive week in Bansko was continuous family fun and merriment, from thermal bathing in the snowy mountains to making our Illuminated Architectural Festive House (could not locate all the makings for a gingerbread house)! There may have been odd moments of being caught doing Karaoke in the local club, having long lie-ins and trying to keep up drinking the local Rakija (like schnapps but stronger), Grandpa caught snoozing in the afternoons and a lot of overindulging on rich food - but that’s exactly what family Christmas is all about in our book.

Entry Refused

After our week in Bansko, we all went our separate routes home. Katey and Ivy chose to drive south to Greece and take a very long ferry to Italy, some flew back to the UK and we intended to drive the length of the Dalmatian coast and continue on to Barcelona.

We were however thwarted at North Macedonia as we were refused entry on the basis of not having the right papers for the truck! After some heated discussions with the border guards, I decided that North Macedonia and Albania would have to wait for another time and we charted a new course for Serbia, Bosnia Herzegovina and Croatia.

This proved to be a really good plan as we crossed the most beautiful scenery on our way. Deep mountain gorges filled with glacial rivers and snow-capped peaks all around us. With every turn, the scenery was more and more breathtaking. Eagles and birds of prey were a daily sight as we took the lesser roads through villages and towns.

Mostar Bridge

The pinnacle of sightseeing was visiting Mostar, Bosnia Herzegovina and visiting the world-famous Mostar Bridge. The 16th-century Ottoman bridge was rebuilt after being destroyed in 1993 during the Croat-Bosniak war.

Heading towards the truck after touring the town and bridge included the Museum of War and Genocide in Mostar. Heart-wrenching testament to courage and bravery and a gruelling recount of the brutal atrocities that went before. I admit to not being able to cope with more than the first items and writings so cannot vouch for the museum in entirety, but we must never, ever forget.

New Money

One thing we should have avoided was entering Croatia on the very day they adopted a new currency, much confusion was caused by their using the Euro system for the first time, but it made for some interesting moments trying to purchase things.

But the route along the stunning Dalmatian coast was absolutely worth the effort, hugging the sea nearly the whole way from Bosnia Herzegovina to Trieste, Italy and stopping as we fancied along the route.

Slovenia was but a brief moment of passage, like Belgium and Holland we entered and departed on the same day. But they obviously didn’t want to man the borders on the new year’s bank holiday and all the barriers were aloft and we drove straight through. Here we could have turned north and been back in the UK within 2 days - but we still had a bit more exploring to do and appear to never take the direct route anywhere.

There was certainly some sadness in leaving the less developed areas behind us. Returning to the world of huge supermarkets, fast food chains and pristine motorways made me yearn for the more raw, undeveloped infrastructures we had been through. Apart from the garbage of course! Along our route through the Balkans, it was clear to see where the systems were not yet in place to deal with the sheer volume of waste humankind creates.

The First Prang

The drive from Savona, Italy to Barcelona was a very long stretch of tunnels and bridges in fact - 78 tunnels. By the time we reached France, we had already covered over 3000 miles, all without incident. not even a bump on the truck. but as we tootled along the highway towards Marseille a small Renault Clio obviously couldn’t see the big yellow bus and side-swiped us at 70mph.

Thankfully a parallel prang was only sufficient to shake us all up and nothing more. Apparently in France when you barge into another vehicle you wave and drive off - or at least she did. The local police were at the next toll booth but we decided that spending the next few hours in discussion with the french police was just not worth it and continued on our route to find the next big ferry at Barcelona.

Arriving in central Barcelona on King’s day was also a less than well-thought-out plan. Kings Day in Spain is just about the most celebrated day of the year with most of the highway and port access area cordoned off to allow the parade and funfair. Trying to navigate the big yellow truck through all the diversions in the dark was not something I would wish to repeat too soon.

Wild Camping

The joy of the big ferry to Ibiza from Barcelona is you set sail at bedtime and wake up as the island comes into view and disembark in time for breakfast in the Marina.

We had chosen to spend a few days wild camping at one of my favourite beaches on the island and have friends stop by with wine and food as they chose. This worked fabulously for 2 nights with some great campfire hot chocolate and foraging. Alas, the fire brigade visit was closely followed by the police who came to evict us. Apparently, neither is deemed lawful, even in Winter. It was somewhat alarming that they felt the need for 3 armed police in bulletproof vests to visit to move us along - maybe they heard Tillie can be a bit disagreeable at times.

So with our wild camping cut short we set off north to the Campo. After so long travelling and being continually moving I was incredibly happy to see my own bed if only for a few nights.

It was short-lived as I was off again on a whirlwind one-evening visit to Gran Canaria to meet up with the team I have been working with who are about to depart on their own mammoth trip across Africa next month. The logistics for their upcoming adventure make my trip look like l just nipped to the supermarket. Another small island departure and we were back in the big yellow van heading north to France and ultimately Yorkshire, UK.

Our 7000-km round trip finally came to an end in the beautiful Yorkshire countryside with friends, dogs and yes - more wine. Four amazing weeks on the move and so much fun and laughter whilst making more family memories together.

The sheer joy of sharing Europe’s, and our own history with Ivy will never fade for me. One day she will regale her own family with this epic adventure she’s just been on. Maybe she will become a travel junkie like us or maybe not - but she has had the absolute privilege of understanding and respecting other cultures first-hand and that is priceless to me.

Conclusion:

Bring on the next epic family road trip!