Ridiculously super awesome European driving adventure – Italy and the expensive motorways

July 11-15

I like surprising people. It’s been done to great effect at home and abroad, and always worth catching on camera. It turns out other people enjoy doing this as well. We consequently decided to leave Germany and head south. A long way south.

Hannah’s sister was studying in Perugia, a small city in the heart of Italy. To do this would take the best part of two days and many miles in the car. It would also introduce us to the various challenges associated with driving in Italy.

To get from Germany to Italy, you have to drive through another country. We actually drove through two, but I’ll talk about the smaller state next time. It was a great shame that we didn’t have the time (let alone the Francs) needed to stop for longer in Switzerland. Goodness gracious me, what a beautiful country to drive through. Turquoise lagoons relax under the gaze of the Alps. Motoring is at its zenith here; from the precarious cliff-top hairpins to the smooth streets zipping through gnome-protected chateaus, it is breathlessly distracting.

We entered an entirely different atmosphere in the early afternoon. It seemed…muggier. That intense heat one often associates with southern Europe and siestas. Italy.

We took a short break at nearby Lake Como before continuing our journey. Our target was to find a campsite near Genova, a coastal city in the north. Similarly to Liege, I’m sure it would have left a more favourable impression if we had spent longer in the area. However, I don’t have many kind words for Genova due to the following circumstances:

        1)      The number of scooters, which I now think of as mosquitoes driven by humans

        2)      The fact that you have to pay to use the motorways, which we were unaware of

        3)      We couldn’t find anywhere to camp and got stuck in the complex city centre

        4)      It is actually quite an eyesore to drive through

You could legitimately argue that we wouldn’t have had to deal with points 2 and 3 if we had researched thoroughly, but this was a spontaneous adventure. We didn’t have time – or the internet – to learn about the issue of toll roads. As for scooters…I would ban them. Failing that, at least put some muffling device on them to alter that awful buzzing racket emanating from them.

We eventually found one of the more eccentric campsite locations of our trip – sat on the edge of a cliff which had naturally carved itself into a zigzag where people pitched their tents. A lot of fizzy wine, some pasta, and a rough night’s sleep – out at 7am. Next stop: Perugia.

It was unfortunate that we had to use at least one ‘A’ road in order to get there during daylight. One hour on that cost us an eye-watering €14, and led us to Pisa. How the tower is still standing is one of the world’s great puzzles. To me, at least. I teach Maths to 11-year-olds, not the folks at MENSA. It’s really funny to watch people doing the ‘Pisa pose’ from a different angle, by the way.

I’m not going to dwell on the Leaning Tower as a) I’ve been before, b) we were only there for 15 minutes before dashing back to the car for fear of getting a parking ticket, and c) we didn’t go up it (and why would you? You’re going up the thing you want to see, and it’s not that high). Above all else, however, there is much more to cover in this blog.

Some backgrounds and hair-raising overtaking manoeuvres later, we were at Perugia’s train station, waiting for Lucy’s boyfriend Daniel – who was also in on the surprise – to bring the unsuspecting lady into our trap. This is what happened…

Great success. Once the inevitable shock had dissipated into the warm air, we set about enjoying a lovely weekend in Umbria, the province which Perugia belongs to. Many of us will only think of Amanda Knox when the city’s name is mentioned, which is most unfortunate.

A lively jazz festival was drawing to a close the very weekend that we so abruptly turned upon, meaning that the main piazza was always heaving with vibrancy. Throngs of people of all ages were strolling along with dripping gelato in their hands, hungrily slurping in the culture even in the black of night.

We had many gelato experiences. The most lavish was at the bottom of the hill which the city was built upon. The actually pour liquid chocolate into the cone. Delicious.

Italy is of course famous for its cuisine, and we sampled plenty of it. From huge slices of pizza to a smorgasbord of meats, with the inevitably tasty pasta, it is certainly a world away from German food.

The time at which you enjoy your food and your daily routine is also rather different. We were having an aperitivo – drinks and nibbles, essentially – at a time when we would have had to have eaten our evening meal in Köln. It’s amazing to see children up so late, in the company of their parents no less.

As for the city itself, Perugia is pleasantly small and filled with bumpy, narrow alleys ready for exploration. It possesses an old aqueduct which now passes for a thin bridge, in addition to the countless churches you would expect in an Italian stronghold. And gelato.

Just outside Perugia there is a lake called Trasimero, an area which has plenty of as yet untapped tourism potential. Italy does have more famous lakes than this, but I can’t imagine a better feeling than running into the refreshing water on a hot summer’s day.

It was a great shame that, due to the spontaneous nature of the adventure, we had to hotfoot it back to Germany so soon after arriving in Perugia. But a bit of Italian certainly added a bit of spice and variety to our driving extravaganza, and the driving certainly helped to vary my heart rate.

Love you all

Matt

Ridiculously super awesome European driving adventure – The Black Forest and the world's biggest toilet

July 9-10

Germany is made up of 16 regions or Land. Each region offers something slightly different to our standard German stereotype, and has its own unique attractions. From Frankfurt we drove south through the heart of the Baden-Württemberg area to experience four of its jewels.

To reach some of these places you take the ‘Romantic Road’ heading in the direction of Munich. This, of course, is not to be confused with the ‘Romantic Rhein’, which was north and west of Frankfurt. The Road was devised in the early 1950s as a way of bringing people back to Germany; it seems they had a problem raking in the tourists in the aftermath of the Second World War. It links many beautiful towns of historical importance in the southern half of Germany.

First stop was the university town of Heidelberg. Tourists were here in their droves, mainly to visit the rather expensive castle. Much more appealing to us was to sit in the castle grounds on the neat green grass and gaze in awe at an incredible juggler who was practising. Lovely views of the Rhein here, too – romantic would be a good word to describe them.

You may have heard of the next stop. Baden-Baden – so nice they name it twice according to Clinton – has been a European play area for the rich and famous for many years now. Monte Carlo it is not, but the small town sat deep in a valley is an elegant, quiet place with plenty of shops that would drain any bank account. Oh, and a casino, shown below.

People with lots of money live and visit here. This notion was proved emphatically to us when we saw one of the children I taught last year (in Kazakhstan, remember) ambling along a cobbled path. Of course, this is a world away from our current lifestyle of camping and bread & cheese, so we enjoyed a different aspect of Baden-Baden’s allure – the outdoors.

The town is situated at one of northernmost points of the Black Forest, and has some stunning views. The amount of energy expended when hiking to the top of one of the hills to see this panorama of dark green is worthwhile, if a bit exhaustive as you perspire under the beating sun.

It’s not really black, of course, though the sun can struggle to pierce through the dense evergreens that are the hallmark of this region. Speeding through the forest in Maxine has been a pleasure, though we have stopped from time to time to fully appreciate its beauty and hidden treasures. And sing ballads in the car, of course.

One such place is Triberg, which is essentially a village on a steep hill. A very steep hill. So steep and grand, in fact, that it is the home of Germany’s highest waterfall.

However, when I mentioned the phrase ‘Black Forest’, I bet some of you immediately drifted off into a dreamland of chocolate, cherry and cream. The Black Forest is synonymous with a particular cake: Black Forest Gateau.

Triberg is the original home of the first ever B.F.G. created, in 1915. That particular café is remarkably still in business, but had taken a day off on this given Wednesday. After a mild panic that I wouldn’t get my dream breakfast, we located another café that was definitely open, and definitely makes a superb, fluffy cake. The textures made the gateau seem to melt in the mouth. The owner told me that three artisans create the cakes each day from 7am in the catacombs of the shops (his words, not mine). I certainly appreciate their hard work.

Once this sweetest of snacks had been savoured (and the surprisingly strong taste of liqueur had been masked with a coffee), we once again weaved our way through the forest. We briefly stopped to stand in the world’s largest toilet (fortunately all you do in that loo is stand in it, though I was slightly disappointed about that), before driving to Europe’s third largest lake and one of the more interesting border spots on the continent.

Lake Constance sits on the border of Germany, Switzerland and Austria. One of their mantras is that you can wake up in Germany, cycle across to Switzerland and make it to Austria for tea, such is the close proximity to all offered by this water mass. We stayed on the German side, allowing us a hazy view of the Swiss Alps looming in the distance. The lake itself was very refreshing, though we spent a lot of time treading water due to the seaweed seemingly clawing at our ankles below.

So as you can see, there is a lot more to Germany than beer, sausages and football. The southern regions all possess stunning vistas, whether they are from the top of a mountain or on the side of a lake – even from a toilet!

Love you all

Matt

Ridiculously super awesome European driving adventure – Frankfurt and the IronMan

July 5-8

Some of my friends from home joined us for the next leg of our trip. More specifically, we were all coming together to support my friend Jon, who was attempting to become an IronMan.

No, not that IronMan. This is an extreme form of triathlon, which requires immense mental strength and resolve in addition to months of intense training. 

2.4 miles of swimming…

…followed by 112 miles of cycling…

…with a marathon to finish.

Needless to say, most of us will never do one of those arduous tasks, let alone having the desire to string those challenges together. Jon, however, has wanted to accomplish an IronMan for a while, and had entered himself in one of the biggest races of its kind in the world, in Frankfurt.

A popular driving route to Frankfurt is along the Romantic Rhein, a gorgeous stretch of road running low alongside the vast, pacy river. It is dotted with typical villages and some beautiful castles. Soon enough, however, the roads become clogged with traffic as you make a beeline towards the location of one of Europe’s busiest airports. That’s all I knew about Frankfurt, anyway, as well as the big race.

Of course, the rest of us had no need to train or prepare, so enjoyed the brilliant sunshine offered in one of Germany’s more international cities over the weekend. Though rather artificial and business-orientated in comparison to Düsseldorf and Köln, it does have some pleasant areas along the Main River which scythes through it.

 We had rented an apartment in the suburbs to the south of the river, which seemed a world away from the hum of the city centre. It was interesting to note that there were more pubs than supermarkets in the area – good to see German priorities are in the right place! For the record, the local brew is Binding, which tasted similar to Kölsch. Their speciality poison of choice is actually called Ebbelwei – apple wine. Or to our pallets, flat cider that didn’t taste particularly nice.

Having a car allowed me to take Jon around the cycle route for his race, and in the process see some of the villages to the north of the city. The hills that we needed to scale often seemed steep even in the car, emphasising the unenviable task facing the athletes. It seemed that the quaint hamlets, with their Tudoresque buildings and cobbled pathways, were the reward for the climb.

There were also some breath-taking views to be seen at the highest point of the course, before we snaked back down to Frankfurt.

Sunday was Jon’s big day. After a 3:45am wake-up to collect him and his girlfriend, we drove to a lake south of the airport, where everything was due to kick off at 7am. Professionals, who start 15 minutes earlier, try to complete these races in around 8 hours, so they take up most of a contestant’s day.

The start of the mass race is quite a sight. It actually looks more like a flock of gulls skimming across the water. All you see are red hats bobbing around and lots of arms flailing and splashing in chaotic harmony. It was obviously difficult to spot Jon from the rest of the pack, so I took leave at this point to return to the centre, getting a free hat for my troubles.

We headed to the centre and found a grassy bank from which to support him during the run, the final discipline. Once again, people can look very similar as they struggle along the banks of the river, resulting in us almost missing Jon run by on the first of his four laps.

This race, however, was not the only major sporting evening occurring on this Super Sunday. We had done some earlier scouting and found a place that delightedly informed us that they would show the Wimbledon final. It was thus rather annoying when this place was showing the triathlon, cycling and football from the previous season, before subsequently realised that they didn’t have the correct channel to show the tennis on.

After having a slight argument with the owners about the ethics of selling alcohol to people who are solely at a venue to watch a sporting event that they consequently will not show (the handcuff gesture from one of the waitresses resulted in us paying) and scampering across the centre, we found an Irish bar showing tennis, and joyously watched most of Andy Murray breaking one of British sport’s biggest hoodoos. I say most – we missed part of it to cheer an exhausted but smiling Jon over the finish line. An incredible feat.

As for Frankfurt, it’s a place that I imagine is pleasant for business folk, but in reality lacked the X-factor to make it a truly wonderful and appealing global city. It was lovely to have a bed for a weekend, but it was time to return to our tent and return to the road.

 Love you all

Matt