Blessed are the meek...

On the morning after another feeble capitulation by the England football team, we are on our way again, this time to Haro for the annual wine festival. 

What has happened to this once great country ? From conquering great swathes of the World, taming the wild and belligerent Scots, standing firm against German invasion....We are now a country where the men think it's cool to wear aprons when cooking. The country that invented the crumpet. Where scrambled egg is considered acceptable as a meal. Truly a weak and wishy-washy nation, reflected in the performance of the football team. 

Iceland. Plundering and pillaging is in their blood. They live on the sides of volcanoes and eat fermented shark. They can listen to Bjork without wincing. Didn't really stand a chance, did we ? 

With Eileen driving, we fell foul of the authorities not once, but twice. Firstly as we tried to escape from Andorra, Eileen looked dodgy enough to get pulled over by a customs officer. 

As we sat there answering his questions and showing him my ferocious mother-in-law in the back, all manner of far dodgier vehicles were able to sneek through without being stopped. 

Further on we can to some sort of accident. Police had coned off one lane. Two vehicles had stopped in a queue. Eileen crossed the solid white line to jump to the front of the queue. This earned him a severe verbal spanking from the grumpy Spanish police officer. We apologised profusely and narrowly escaped a fine. 

We had opted for the longer, less windy route. Partly to spare the gearbox and partly because the sat nav wasn't in an adventurous mood today. I'm led to believe the mountain road was truly spectacular, as was Ainsa, the suggested lunchtime destination. A picturesque mediaeval Spanish town with stunning views of the river. We settled for a squalid bar in an uninspiring town instead. 

Oto, our home for the night is a tiny little place. In fact, the campsite is probably bigger. The pool was large and inviting, not just to weary travellers but also to thousands of suicidal flies. 

With not one, but two football matches lined up, we settled down with some cheap, cold beers to watch Spain go out of the competition. 

With England up next, we watched on with rising uncertainty as Spanish TV continued to dissect the Spanish loss. With rising panic as 9pm came and went we appealed to the bar staff, who flicked through a couple of channels and shrugged his shoulders. No football ! 

We surveyed the technology to hand and came up with a mobile phone to watch it on. 

Surely some sort of fault, it was suggesting the score was already 1-1. It got worse. The small screen failed to show a single England shot on goal all match. I think we had gone to more effort to get the game on than that bunch of spineless gits in the white shirts. 

Bed was calling. 

Eggs

Well that should see off any signs of Delhi belly for a while. The odd pickled egg or two is good for your constitution. Three or four is probably starting to get excessive. Ten ? Now that's just silly. 

Near Err there is a spa. We made a swift visit first thing, leaving towels in the van. Won't need them. I also left the van keys hanging out of the drivers door. Won't need them either. 

We dried ourselves under the hand dryer as we hadn't brought towels and fortunately my keys were still where I left them in the door when we got back.

Andorra is a land in the clouds. We wound our way up the hairpins to Pas De La Casa. It's a bit like a cross between Las Vegas and a ski resort. A real frontier town with many hyper markets and tax free shops. We fuelled (1.04 euros/litre !)

then found the winding mountain road called the Col De Ordino, infested with Lycra clad, skinny people. One of them overtook us coming down the other side. 

The campsite restaurant had a special offer on food. Eileen translated it as "all you can eat" for 13 euros. It was actually all you can eat, as long as you pay the going rate for it. We massively over ordered tapas and beer. 

Evening arrived, as did most of the teams     Tonight was going to be the nail game. 

A shot of something before you were allowed a go, then another shot forfeit if you took over 10 hits. 

I may have had a few goes. Quite a few goes. 

It was at this point in proceedings that I spotted that the lid of my pickled eggs was damaged. There was no way we could take the eggs any further. There was nothing for it but to declare this as Cool Hand Luke night. With a full bowl of eggs in front of us, Nik and I sized each other up and commenced the celebrations. 

In the end I claimed a convincing victory. My prize ? The prospect of probably needing stitches when I finally go to the toilet again. 

Substitution

Well my wife Jo and her sister Vicky have flown home, only to be replaced by their mother Kath, or Dwarf Mumsie as she likes to be called. Well I assume she likes it anyway. 

With teams departing early and heading back towards France to our destination of Err, we had a more leisurely start. It gave me an opportunity to look at our gearbox issue. It also gave Jo an opportunity to fix the skylight that she broke. 

It is now taped up and (hopefully) waterproof. It'll do until we get home. 

I need that damn tool to get in to the gearbox. Really annoyed I took it out of the van now. 

We headed off to find a suitable beach for snorkelling. Their flight wasn't until the late afternoon so we had time. We failed to find a beach, it was more of a rocky cove with sharp rocks and crystal clear water. Pleasant to look at but painful to walk on. 

They even let me borrow one of the masks and snorkels. Grey fish and many sea urchins. 

Cap De Creus is a protected marine area just north of Roses. Allegedly there are whales and dolphins out there but with all of the speed boats zapping past, they've probably all been turned in to mincemeat. 

Girona was nice. Olde worlde narrow cobbled streets and restaurants aplenty. 

It's somewhere I'd be happy to return to for a weekend. 

Kath failed to turn up on time. I guess this is where her daughters get their abysmal timekeeping from. She blamed the pilot. As a result we trailed in to camp at about 11pm, only to find a raucous bunch of reprobates still up drinking and socialising. I grabbed a lump of cheese and a cold beer and joined them. That gear box will just have to wait another day.  

Bungee Running

So, we need a specific type of gearbox oil for an elderly campervan in France on a bank holiday. It was never going to happen. In a filling station I eyed up a bottle of transmission fluid but put it back again. No good, wrong spec. 

We popped in to the Pont Du Gard, the Roman triple layered aqueduct just after we left Arles. 

Impressive architecture from the Italians, but why three layers ? Hot and cold water I can understand but what is the third ? 

We found the knack of dealing with the gearbox issue. It was crude and rudimentary, but it worked. A bungee cord tied around the gear stick when traveling in 4th gear. 

It'll do the job until we can find some of this special gearbox oil that we need. 

This heat is draining. I constantly feel sleepy when I've been driving for a while. But it's too hot to sleep in the van, even with our extra air conditioning. 

We arrived safely in Roses on the Costa Brava. Most of the teams were already there, lounging around the pool, drinking beer. How could we resist ? It was Eileen's birthday after all. Jo was certainly on a mission. Cava country, last night of her holiday, she was throwing them back. Then she hit a wall after 3 drinks. It was 8pm after all and her eyelids were drooping. We bullied her in to coming out though. 

Tapas ! Sangria ! Much merriment and laughter. Well, apart from the birthday boy who was suffering from throat problems and snoozy in the corner.

 

Roses is a standard touristy seaside resort, I'm guessing like many others in the Costa Brava. Many camp sites, many lobster coloured British tourists, restaurants and a bustling beach front. Time to move on I think...

Oh, found out from John that whilst we were looking so hard for this specific gearbox oil, we needn't have. In an emergency you can use normal engine oil, or even olive oil. Now he tells us, when we have looked in several shops, it's dark and I am full of sangria. Ahhh, mañana....

Grand Prix

Monaco is a nightmare to park in. Very much like Lewis Hamilton and chums, we drove around and around the town.

I was on temporary loan to Team 22 as Marc was assisting with the driving on Team 27. It does get a bit complicated and even incestuous on the Windy at times. 

The Monaco Grand Prix was last month apparently. How they run it in this sort of traffic I really don't know. It must have the drivers tearing their hair out. 

It was a brief stop. Just enough time to link up with an ex-colleague Adam for a cold drink. 

Having left Eileen and Jo in charge of Jezebel in Monaco, reports started filtering through of an error of judgement. They blamed the parking attendant who waved them under a low barrier. Jezebel is now a convertible with open top and a skylight in a number of pieces. 

Back on the road soon after on our way to Arles. It was hot. Beyond comfortable for me. 

Arles boasts the second highest number of Roman buildings in the World, after Rome obviously. So it's knocking on a bit. The campsite with swimming pool I'm assuming is a little more modern though. 

We found many of the gang already in the pool, playing on the water slides and demanding more information sheets. 

We are off to Spain next. 

Sarah has a serious issue. Her fridge is misbehaving. No cold wine is a dreadful reality to face. 

Jezebel also has another issue, to go with dodgy inverter, locked battery gauge, dashboard that falls apart, smashed skylight and cupboard full of broken pretzels. She is jumping out of gear whilst driving. John couldn't spot anything obvious. I Googled it. Probably low gearbox oil levels. The experts suggest bungees to hold the gear stick in 4th. Oh, and possibly topping up your gearbox oil levels. Tomorrow we'll try. It's too hot and I want to play on the water slide. 

Speyside

"You can definitely taste the peat in this one", I was informed by Fraser as we tasted his single malt whisky. It was dark. We were drinking from plastic beakers. Even so, I couldn't see any peat in it. I nodded knowingly. "Hmmm. It's not a Speyside, is it ? ". I had a 50:50 chance. I picked right. I left a bit in the bottom in case someone had put some peat in it. 

They know their whiskys these Scots. I expect I could do the same with pasties mind you. "Oh yes, you can taste the granite in that one. It's a Cornish..."

We were sat at the campsite at Isolabona. It's in Italy but near the French border. They don't sell baguettes here, so I was told in the same way as if I had asked if they sold soiled nappies. Nice pool though. 

We had got up early with the plan to get to Vernazza in the Cinque Terre by train. We missed the train. The next one was an hour later. Our second train was delayed for an hour. We got to Vernazza finally, just in time for lunch. 

Lovely place and they did Italian food, unsurprisingly. 

We were one of the later teams to roll in to camp but we had had a dip in the Med and we brought Italian beer, sparkling wine and apricots. Ok, I had eaten the apricots. 

It seems the member of staff had misunderstood me earlier when I had phoned. She sounded convincing too. I had told her to expect 35 people, she had assumed it was just a campervan full. They shoehorned us in though. 

I had a few minor nightly issues on Jezebel to sort out, but the pool won. Then the beer came second, another beer came third and sausages fourth. The van could wait until tomorrow. 

So, to the chorus of randy frogs in the background, watching the fireflies and talking Scottish politics we settled in for the evening. I think I'll stick to wine tonight though. 

So, Arles up next. The Feux de St Jean. Their midsummer celebration involving a bonfire and drinking copious amounts of wine. I'm sure John the Baptist would approve. 

Ian and Ann of Team 50 are already in Arles. Team Flo still having issues in Monza. Hope to see them soon. 

Team Report ~ Supplemental

I'm often asked as I do my blog why it doesn't include information about all the other teams. Well, it's mainly because everyone scatters every day to enjoy their own trip. They will all see and do different things and have different experiences. I will try to give a rough idea of what each team has been up to as far as I've worked out. 

Team 6 Jim and Lucy in Team Milly. Windy veterans in both senses. Only vehicle issues so far are the curtain ties coming undone. Lucy brought a home made sausage the size of a Zeppelin to the fondue night and Jim has, as usual, kept people up socialising well past their expected bed times. Taking it easy today going to Portofino. 

Team 7 The Mini with John and Clare. Both Windy vets but not together before. John has been taking in as many stupid roads as possible, St Bernard Pass, Furka Pass and so on. He has highlighted just about every silly road in Europe as well as every building linked to a film.  

Team 8 Creaseybear and Raquel. She should never have revealed his nickname. It's stuck. In the midlife crisis Audi, they have been thrashing it mercilessly but now it's a bit broken. Warning lights in a new Audi mean only one thing. A huge bill. CB is touring Southern Europe trying to source a part and a suitable hire car, Raquel has joined Team Milly for the day. 

Team 9. Marc and Jeni in the works van with home made bed. Frequently one of the first to arrive anywhere. Taking in the sights and the local Swiss wine and frantically Googling the next destination. 

Team 13. Team Flo, Clare and Jayne. Alas had a few mechanical issues, mainly starter motor. Have been having to whack the starter motor every day, now it's broken. Currently at Monza awaiting new parts before they can catch up. In good spirits (and wine) it seems though after a good night in a hotel.

 

Team 14. Team Just-ice Cool. Marion and Chris and another Chris. Ever cheerful, fitting as much in to each day as physically possible. Stu is going well. 

Team 15. Team Discovery, Mark, Rose and their kayak. Got straight in to the Windy spirit helping Team Flo out on day 1. No vehicle issues reported so far. 

Team 18. The Little Green Bus. Rob and Francine. Many would question their sanity bringing such an elderly van on such a trip. LGB is doing well though. A new tyre valve required. They've done the extra bits though, like Monza and Pisa.

 

Team 21. Shaun (aka Burt) and Heather. The twin cab and caravan was never going to be the quickest team. That first day took them about 3 times longer than some. A dodgy fan relay is all I've been informed about so far.

 

Team 22. Sarah and Marc in her new snot coloured T25. A water leak from a loose jubilee clip a few days back, but Marc had it sorted. 

Team 27. Those Phillipses in Bob. They set off intent on getting to Germany. Some place called Steirscheisse. Until they realised it didn't exist. They are a bit weighed down with stickers now. 

Team 34. Team Swede. The new newlyweds. Packing lots in, frequently one of the last teams to arrive. I assume they are off seeing sights. Who knows ?

Team 36. Team Haggis. Living off a diet of porridge, thistles and fried mars bars. Parked in a ditch. Not had time yet to complain to me about any vehicle issues. 

Team 38. Jezebel. Where do I start ? The leisure battery gauge has frozen. We are losing oil over the exhaust pipe creating much smoke and hilarity. The accelerator cable sticks occasionally. The trim keeps falling off the pop top when we put it up and I've just dropped a whole tub of pretzels over the van floor. 

Team 40. Team Scottish/Canadian. Nothing that a good dose of gaffer tape wouldn't fix. Had communication breakdown in Interlaken leading them to miss fondue night but otherwise checking out as many dog friendly sights as possible. 

Team 46. Team Trigger as they were, now Team Gilbert. Robin and Sam have virtually moved in to their mobile palace full time. It's so big that there are rumours that the previous owners are still trying to get out of the West Wing. No reported issues to date. 

Team 50. Ian and Ann. Encountered fuel related problems in Grindelwald but made it to Brig in Switzerland before calling the RAC. 21 calls later but little hands on assistance, Ian appears to have fixed the issue himself. They have dumped the hire car and skipped Italy. They are already at our next destination. Good to have them back in the game.