Preparing for the big trip

Hi everybody, thanks to all who have sent us those wonderful good luck text messages! We’re still here though, so we’ll read them again when we actually leave 🙂

It’s been awhile since our last blog post, because we were busy. ‘Doing what?!’ you may think, ‘weren’t you guys unemployed and living with your parents?’ That’s right, but the first phase of this large travel project, namely the preparation, is almost at its end and requires a lot of attention. We had hoped that everything would go in a German matter: nice gründlich and efficient with a dash of Dutch improvisation. But unfortunately sometimes things go in the African way here as well and the devil’s in the detail.

Last weeks were dedicated to saying goodbyes to family and friends, adjusting the bus so that we can crash in there for one year with a reasonable level of comfort and supplying the last necessities. We haven’t planned a farewell party because we figured that we’d ratherdrive you all into a corner, tie you to some chairs and force-feed you several terabytes of photo and film after our return. Bubbles, snacks and a gezellig Afrikaans muzakje in the background will be provided. Gemütlich! So I went to The Netherlands for a week to hug some people for the last time in a very long time. The visit leaves me with a beautiful memory. Intense sadness when waving goodbye, yet at the same time it is beautiful and makes me feel alive, because where there is sadness, there is friendship. Strangely enough this was one of the best weeks in my life.

Many people ask us how our parents reacted when we told them: ‘mum, dad, we have something to tell you. No, no marriage. No kids either. No, Africa it will be, one year. In a van.’ After a few half-hearted attempts from the parents to changes our minds (‘but isn’t Australia just as adventurous?’) and the expression of sorrow (‘I know some people that died of dengue fever, but that probably won’t happen to you. At least I think.’), they were both quite enthusiastic. Dad had a go with his beloved camping equipment and pulled out 3 huge boxes of pots, pans and lamps that we could use. And man, was he persistent: after I had shopped in his self-made outdoor outlet store I had to get 1 trolley, 1 big cool box, a weekend bag and the biggest suitcase you’ve ever seen safely to Germany. I looked like a Moroccan family on the boat to Tanger, but then with me as only family member. I managed to get everything to Germany relatively smoothly, except from an inevitable and very loud nosedive on Frankfurt Flughafen Bahnhof platform 5. I had the luck that our expensive cool box landed on the back of my head instead of on the hard concrete. It still functions properly. I still carry the illusion that my getting up and collecting all my bags went very gracefully.

Last weeks we’ve worked on our Bushi as two old Mac Gyvers, trying to build things from tin cans and pieces of string. A friend of Conny’s, Thomas Bischoff from Spectra Supertrucks (spectra-gmbh.de), owns a company in Karlsruhe region and transforms trucks into luxury bathrooms, kitchens or even apartments. Thomas gave us the perfect opportunity to work on our bus in his professional workshop so that we could use his tools, space and above all his expertise. It was quite rewarding to work on the bus ourselves. We were very enthusiastic. And very amaturistic. Faith in each others handyman skills certainly had to grow. Small things, you know what I mean. The usual stuff: ‘Conny, there is a plus and minus on that battery, why do you only attach plus? Why don’t you just call Herr H. to ask how to get the solar panel to work instead of trying for hours yourself?’ Or ‘Githa, clearly you haven’t attached this board properly, whyelse would it fall on my head?’ very unlike Nico and that other tv-guy from Eigen Huis & Tuin.

But after awhile our Bushi turned into a true expedition supercar! We created more living space, a tailor-made Jamie Oliver-worthy kitchen, a water tank with real tap, a shiny fresh blue paintjob and tip tuned electronics on the inside. Man, are we gonna rock that slick ride!

We got acquainted to a new type of depression: Baumarkt blues. I must say that when you park in front of the Praxis, Hornbach, Baumarkt or any random supposedly do-it-yourself Walhalla, it looks very promising. Hundreds of square metres hardware populated by men in old saggy jeans who smell like do-it-yourself testosterone. However as soon as you start looking for the first item on your shopping list, first confusion starts, closely followed by disappointment. 7 Out of 10 items of our lists weren’t available and it is a labyrinth without breadcrumbs. Porta potti fluids (= camper van toilet)? The information lady looked puzzled. Fake leather? No. 4 mm drains? Definitely no. And than the information people definitely don’t shop there themselves: hmm…mayyyyybe in row 36. Or maybe in 40. You’d better ask a colleague. We have made more kilometres on baumarkt grounds than with the Bushi in total.

But fixing the wheels isn’t the hardest part: the administration, getting all the permits and paperwork right and delivered at the right time, that’s the real challenge! Stay tuned for the next story about visa, the Deutsche Post and Carnet de Passages.