Every good story worth its salt has at least one main protagonist. A character that’s capable of driving the narrative in whichever way it chooses. Openly leading the reader one way, then the other, before deceitfully doubling back to cover tracks, or invent different possibilities. Clouding perceptions with conundrums. Confusing issues with inconsistences. One second telling the truth. The next a lie. Perhaps. Maybe.
The beauty of this morning’s white awakening is enhanced by the muffled silence. Stepping down, crunching and squeaking into freshly lain snow brings a feeling of joy to the spirit.
We’re currently pitched up on what is no more than an elaborate car park at Campingplatz Nord-West, Munich. Paying a pretty price of €59 for the privilege too. The most expensive overnighter in our experiences to date. But one in which we had no option. A question of third time lucky.
Touring on spec, as we do, always leaves open the possibility of a disappointment, or two, as proves the end of today’s journey. Campsite one at Langwieder See, resembles a cramped scrapyard of old and discarded caravans. Bunched up tightly together like fractal polytuplets. As if each depended on its neighbour to survive. A brief 360 and we’re out. Campsite two at Ampersee, according to our travellers’ bible should have opened on 1st April. But the entrance sign says “Sorry, but we’re closed”. Fortunately all three are within 20K.
France, Germany, Italy and Spain, for the main part, play the main protagonists for most MOHO travellers. Campsites throughout have so far steered under any EU bureaucratic regulations. It’s what gives every campsite its uniqueness. The ability to be either good, bad, or indifferent to the services it provides.
German campsites are free and liberal with hot water. But. You pay a price for that so seemed luxury.