Days 62 & 63 – Life’s like that and this . . .

Each trip is like a repeating mini lifetime. A reincarnation. We’re shot out from a dark abyss. Drip fed. Signs repeat drive on the right. Baby steps follow. Eyes big and wide. Slowly get used to the new environment. Is it new? Haven’t we been here before? Negotiate a roundabout here. Another one there. An ancient memory sparks. Karma kicks in. We’ve got this. Then just when we feel we’ve mastered it all again, we find it’s time to go . . .

Our penultimate day’s travel towards chez nous is one long frustration. We don’t like Mondays. Especially this one. Seven hours on the road. To top it we find camp number one doesn’t have a pitch big enough for Beastie. Site number two is not too far away. However, it’s closed on Monday and Tuesday. Weird or what? A further 8K down the road finds us rumble and grumble onto a totally deserted and overgrown site. Argh! Perfect for wild camping. Last resort Camping Vlasaard, lets us in. Hardly a resort. Each second of hot water used costs one cent.

Currently pitched up at Camping des Noires Mottes, Sangatte, for our last night and ready for tomorrow’s Sous la Manche crossing at 9.50am. The forecast heavy rain has set in. We don’t care. We’re coffee’d and comfy in the dry of Beastie’s belly, while he takes a shower.

Every tour is different in its own right. But this one seems more so. Totally inland. A series of inter-city breaks. Occasionally interspersed with some in the country time-outs. Not a single swim. Scoot has been used only thrice (is that still a used word?) The MTBs only twice. City public transport systems in Poland and Germany have played an immense part. Getting us from place to place like clockwork and timed to perfection. Especially in Poland. Beastie has done us proud again by staying trouble free and has now ferried us over 40,000 miles to date. Then of course we’ve walked and walked and walked and walked. Mrs S’s FitBit reads 669,997 steps.

We’ve been blessed with sight of some wonderful scenery and amazing architecture. Saddened and moved with visits to Dachau and Auschwitz. Uplifted by each survivor’s tenacity for life. Touched deeply by the bravery and sacrifice made by the young of WWII. Always remembering what a privilege it is to be 2-cheeses-go-rolling.

As in life, everyday has something new in store. Some little thing that can raise a smile. At Waldasruh Camping in Arnhem we were allocated the tightest of places to manoeuvre Beastie into. I heard recently that as part of the current driving test, learners are not expected to reverse around a corner. Obviously MOHOing will be off the agenda for generations to come. This successful ‘third’ attempt of mine, came on day three of our stop. Having twice previously needing some of the flower pots to be moved.

Slow but sure . . . come on Beastie, you can do it this time . . .
Reversing problems compensated by this pretty view opposite. We’ve not seen a prettier static set-up ever.
Equally delightful when night falls

And of course, we’ll never forget the hundreds, or was it thousands, of half-timbered houses we’ve seen and photographed.

Bit of a tight squeeze, but Beastie breathes in, while Mrs S practises her German.

Well, that’s it. Another one truly done and dusted. I hope you’ve had some enjoyment catching up with our wanderings and wonderings. We certainly have. By the day after tomorrow, it will feel a lifetime away. Then we’ll reincarnate. Become our old selves again. Certainly not as daddy-long-legs. It’s always a nice feeling to be back home. With friends and loved ones.

Until next time . . . auf wiedersehen & do widzenia