So we’ve been away, three weeks, how brilliant. And how was it? Well… I should say straight off the bat that being able to swan off in a van for three weeks is an enormous privilege. The idea that we can go where we want and when we want (notwithstanding the post-Brexit 90 days nonsense) is a real luxury in a world where many have no clue where their next meal or bed may be.
The journey started well bowling through France, tunnelling under the Alps and rolling into Italy and fetching up at a site on the Venice Lagoon. Amazing location. We watched the sun rise over the city – briefly – as at 6am a cruise ship towed by two tugs manoeuvred past our pitch less than 20 meters away. I feel sure it wasn’t in the brochure when they signed up to the Mediterranean voyage but the entire starboard of the hulking leviathan was treated to the sight of your correspondent in his underpants waving and cursing at the hapless crowds on their individual balconies. A bonus I feel that should be included in the next brochure.
Venice was done in two days and south in 35 degrees we headed. Pesaro our destination. Lovely campsite in a national park. Van ran over a ramp, pierced a hydraulic fluid sump. 1500 Euros and five days later back on track. Another week in the blissful sun. Read six books. Then heading up to Como. It pissed down. Three days of rain punctuated by some glorious sun and the journey home began with an attempt at the Splugen Pass. This is a Roman pass that is narrow and steep with over forty hairpin bends and gradients of 16% plus. Luckily I chose the day to drive it when the entire rainfall for the month decided to fall on one day. Visibility 20 meters and road waterlogged. Essentially driving up and down a very smooth stream. Mrs H was terrified and I was grimly determined. We made it, twenty-two miles in an hour and a bit. Not for the faint of heart.
On, on ,on. Overnight in a vineyard in Alsace sorted us out and on the way to Dieppe a stop at the national memorial to the Battle of Verdun. If anyone reading this doubts the wretchedness of war a trip to Verdun will change that view. The memorial is a giant ossuary containing all of the bones that were recoverable following the months-long battle. French and German, all equal in death. And…. you can see them. The memorial is lined with windows that allow you to look in and witness the piles of human debris. It is shocking and appalling and deeply moving.
The following day we’re home and I’m writing this. Promise it will be more about music next week. However we did listen to some great stuff whilst on the road. The new Pete Bruntnell got a lot of play as did Why Bonnie and there’s four radio shows to be caught up with. Anyone in Bedford this weekend please come down to see Pete Bruntnell and Small Town Jones. A cheap brilliant night out – I’ll see you there. As ever take what you want of need.
Dude, you never heard of Ryanair?!
I’m saving the planet kilometre by kilometre 😂