Dreaming of finding diesel

Hi everybody!

First of all, thanks for all those who have registered as follower on our blog. Nice to know there are people at home interested in our whereabouts. We appreciate it! Despite anti-spam measures, it appears that some Polnish unwelcome guests have posted two blogs. I’m on it with increasing safety measures. If they aren’t effective, I’ll put the blog offline while finding definite solutions. We are really sorry if these messages caused any confusion. WordPress convinced me that there is no harm for followers who received a message in their mailbox. Sorry again for the inconvenience.

We have the first week of travel behind us and that already brought some unexpected things. We discovered that we might be wellprepared for Africa, we kind of ‘forgot’ that we also have a few weeks in Eastern Europe.

First stop was in Dalmatia, Croatia. We camped on a nice camping site with a nice little cool breeze, which was a relieve after spending 1000 km in a 40 degrees car. That breeze, however, grew stronger and stronger and as we unfolded the rooftent, we felt like a sailing ship on open sea, but with the anchor out. The car swinged left and right (and so did we in our bed), and the canvas pulled and flapped like a fish alive on dry land. We feared that the canvas would rip even on this first night of our trip. With tail between the legs we closed the top at 4:00 am after very little sleep and sought asylum elsewhere in the van: Conny on the driversseat, me curled up like a shrimp on the floor. A windy initiation ritual of the Bushi!

Next day we drove to Bosnia Herzegovina to visit Mostar, a small town renowned for its historical bridge connecting the muslim and christian part of town. During the Yugoslavian conflict, the bridge was destroyed to make a statement about the inreconcileability of the different parties. This happened recently in 1993 and after the war, the bridge was rebuilt quickly. Mostar was a stunning little town and if you manage to see through all tourists, really worth a visit.

We drove to Montenegro, where we initially thought that there were not much beauties to be seen. Wrong! As we drove towards lake Baia di Kotor on freeway, we were supposed to make a shortcut by ferry. You can imagine the situation: many cars honking, instruction personnel shouting “ticket, biglietta, show me!” Ticket where? I ran to the box office and showed my Croation money and credit card (no opportunity for changing money on the way). “No no only euros in cash!” Bummer. Of all things, we forgot to bring euros. When I asked for an ATM, the cashier waved into a direction, very uninterestedly. Bummed out at our mistake, we took the curvy road along the bay. And with every curve, more beautiful sceneries unfolded. The lake reminded of lake Garda or Como, but the beauty of the surrounding villages mate this scenery without doubt our number 1. In the middle of the clear blue water, 2 small islands with mosque and church on in.

We visited the historic village of Kotor, which was a jaw dropping surprise. Behind the entrance gate of the city walls, historic buildings and small streets that reminded of Siena and Nice. Markets with fresh fruits and fish, covered by a comfortable 38 degrees temperature blanket.

Must admit, we hat to dodge between Japanese tourists again (fully covered with hats, panty hoses and a sort of white pancake on their face to prevent suntanning), a sharp contrast with the beautiful Montenegran women in light summerdresses. An absolute perfect holiday spot for a few days of sniffing mediterranean air!

Yesterday, after crossing Albania (not much to report there, expect about 1000 gas stations), we drove to Greece and were looking for a camping and supermarket in the first city center after the border. ‘Ah, an Aldi. Great’ we thought. Conny was nervous because he thought he saw some Greeks burning German flags on the news and was afraid they would wait for us after the border. Well, the Aldi then feels like a sort of German embassy, safe grounds. Unfortunately closed 2 minutes because we forgot about the our time distance, we idiots. And nowhere a camping to be found either. We texted our helpline, papa Van Es. He texted us 2 campings. Which would have been very helpful, but we ran out of gas! Black of night, nowhere gasstations to be found (in contrast to  Albania). So we parked next to the nearest Shell, popped up the roof and fell asleep, dreaming of finding diesel the next day.