Today has been largely a day of doing chores and chilling. After a rather late breakfast, we set to on the cleaning, having been embarrassed by the reaction of the Danish border guard at the state of our van.

First job was the fridge – long overdue! We eventually threw out remnants of cheese from Italy, lemons from Sicily and the tomatoes from Croatia. I was shamed by Howard at the number of bars of chocolate I had stockpiled (in case of emergencies, you understand), and also saddened by the last of the Caorrun. No matter, since we are having a week off the booze – a bit like ‘Dry January’, but not as long. Now that we are no longer tempted to sit outside in the sun eating our supper with a glass of wine in hand, we have decided to be abstemious for a while. It was so cold last night, that we had the heater back on, and today even heralded the return of Howard’s woolly hat.

After the ‘kitchen’ area was done, we tackled Oscar. After our long drive up through Germany, he was looking a little grubby. So we shampooed, washed and rinsed the boy until he was gleaming.

After doing a few administrative jobs on the computer, we then decided we deserved an outing. Howard had been keen that I do a bit more driving, now that the madness of Italy is a distant memory, so we set off down the coast, towards a little town called Svendborg. I chose to take the pretty rural route, and Howard did comment that I couldn’t have picked quieter roads to drive, if I’d tried. But nonetheless, it got me back behind the wheel, so at least I can relieve Howard occasionally.

Svendborg is a yachting town, with a harbour full of old sailing boats, and a pretty town centre. The buildings here are so different from what we have seen on the rest of or trip so far – many with medieval timber framed construction, some with crow step gables, and in the countryside, many thatched properties. The thatched roofs here are finished off with a lattice of wooden timbers on their ridges. This is apparently to protect the thatch from the strong winds they get in these parts.

We stopped for a late lunch in a pleasant square with a fountain, and a rather puzzling mermaid sculpture (reach your own conclusions from the photo!). It was the first opportunity we have had to sample the Danish cuisine, and so we decided to go for the traditional Smorrebrod – open sandwiches on buttered rye bread, and very tasty they were too. Our next stop was the harbour, partly to have a look at the boats, but also to follow a hunch of mine. I had heard that Camping Gas is not available in Iceland or the other Scandinavian countries – they use a different type of gas with a lower freezing point. However, our California only takes the standard Camping Gas found in the rest of Europe. Being a harbour frequented by yachtsmen, I suspected that there may well be a chandlers somewhere around. My hunch paid off, and we left with a spare bottle of gas, which hopefully will see us through the next part of our trip.

On the way back to the campsite, we stopped off along the coast, in an area that did not look too dissimilar to the banks of the Tay estuary. I must be starting to miss home, since back at the campsite, as I started to type my blog, I looked out across the water, and in the distance I saw a rowing boat. It was a long way off, probably out of Nyborg Harbour, but I could have sworn there were four rowers and a cox, just like our Scottish Coastal Skiff. I shouted to Howard to come and look, and he agreed. My Google search failed to find any connection, but maybe on our way out of Nyborg tomorrow, we’ll hang by the harbour and have a look.

Tomorrow we’re heading across the 18km bridge to Zealand. I’m hoping for light winds – it really does look very high from where I’m sitting!

The drive yesterday was our longest to date. Originally we had planned to stop off in Berlin, and possibly Hamburg. As it turned out, we made a good call to bypass these cities, since being May Day or Labour Day as it is sometimes termed, we saw reported today on the German news that there had been demonstrations and protests in both. Having previously been caught up in protests in both Barcelona and Rome, I have had my fill of riot police, and had no desire to experience the German version.

The journey was made slightly more tolerable by the fact that there were no lorries on the roads. Every motorway services that we passed, we saw line after line of huge juggernauts queued up, resting for the day. As we moved up into northern Germany, the landscape changed, becoming less forested, but with wide open fields. All along the route we saw evidence of Germany’s enthusiasm for renewable energy, with many wind and solar farms dotting the horizon. Howard continued to comment on the neatness of the German’s woodpiles. I think he had woodpile envy! It also appears that we have been following the blossom – from the fields of almond blossom in Spain, Portugal and Italy, to cherry and lilac blossom in Croatia, Slovenia and the Czech Republic, to hawthorn blossom in Germany, and now here in Denmark.

Last night we stayed in the very pleasant northern German town of Neumunster. It had a very clean, relaxed air about the town. The people we came across were incredibly friendly and helpful, and contrary to my preconception of the Germanic race, were remarkably good humoured.

This morning, before leaving, both Howard and I needed attention to our glasses. We walked into an optician, who very efficiently mended both pairs for us, and then charged us the princely sum of 2 euros. I almost had to stop Howard from questioning the price, for fear that they would quadruple it.

We then headed due northwards towards Denmark. The landscape was flat and open. As we approached Flensburg near the border, the light perceptively changed. The skies became wide and a translucent blue, having the feel of the light that you experience in the Fens or East Anglia. Just after the border, the Danish border police were doing random vehicle checks. They took one look at the mess inside Oscar, and just waved us on, rolling their eyes.

We drove a third of the way up through Jutland, then hung a right, and headed east across the Little Belt’s Bridge into Funan, the middle of Denmark’s three main islands. Shortly after crossing into Funan, we spied a sign for Middelfart. Howard mused as to whom would want to twin with such a town, recalling that the little Highland Perthshire town of Dull is twinned with Boring, in the USA. I won’t repeat his suggestions – but I was pleased to see that he is now putting his considerable intellect over to such important considerations! We passed by Odense, the home of Hans Christian Anderson, and drove to the easterly coast of Funan, to a charming town called Nyborg (which translates to Newcastle in English). Apart from being situated by the sea though, that is as far as resemblances go. It has a small picturesque harbour, several attractive churches, and a bright and airy pedestrian area. After picking up some Danish Krona, we stopped for coffee at a lovely little cafe, that also sold the most impressive selection of gin. The lady explained that Nyborg is a bit of a gin buff’s paradise, having it’s own distillery down at the harbour. In addition, several other small batch gins are made locally. We settled on a bottle that amongst it’s botanicals included seaweed and saltwort – a little similar to the Harris Gin, that also uses coastal ingredients. 

We then headed on to our campsite, situated on the coast close to Nyborg. Our pitch is huge and grassy, and looks out over the sea towards the 18km Great Belt’s Bridge, that links Funan to Zealand. The countryside around us is green and arable, with plenty of cycle paths and coastal paths. We have decided to stay here an extra day to recover from  our long drive. First impressions of Denmark are hugely positive, although sadly the shorts and sandals are now packed away, and we’re back in our padded jackets. It may be sunny, but it’s bitterly cold – I suspect we may have experienced the last of the warmth for some time! Just as we were getting used to it, too!

So today is a bit of a milestone in our trip. We have done almost four months on the road – a third of or way through the year. Largely speaking, our trip is divided into three parts also. Part one – the Southern Europe, Mediterranean and Adriatic, part two – Iceland and Scandinavia, and part three Eastern Europe and maybe some other places we want to visit on the way home (aka still to be decided!). Today, we left Prague, and are doing one of our longest drives to date – up to Neumunster in Northern Germany, in preparation for our entry in Denmark.

Rather aptly, we have lost the sunshine today – it is cloudy and much cooler. I suspect I will be changing out of my shorts at the next stop! So far on this journey around Europe, we have seen the most stunning mountains and coasts, but today, we are very much in the heart of Europe, and the landscape is decidedly flat and monotonous.

We have been struck on our trip at the number of EU flags we have seen flying, from Spain, Portugal and Italy, huge numbers in Croatia and Slovenia, and more in Austria and Germany. In the Czech Republic, in contrast, we only saw one. Apparently the Czech’s share the UK’s scepticism of the EU, with only 54% of the population supporting it. Like the UK, the young are generally very pro-Europe, but in variance to the UK, so are the old, who still have vivid memories of what World War II did for them. It is the middle aged tax payers who resent their contribution to this huge bureaucratic organisation, probably not dissimilar to the UK. It was striking how proud the newly joined nations such as Croatia and Slovenia are of their membership – seeing it as a very positive move towards European peace and unity. Before this trip, I must admit to being fairly neutral on the subject, although I did vote to ‘remain’. Howard, on the other hand, has always strongly felt that the benefits of being within this diverse group of nations outweighs the drawbacks. I am now increasingly of the opinion that the UK’s decision to ‘leave’ was utterly wrong. The British nation was so misled by the politicians, with all their scare tactics of uncontrolled immigration, and of huge benefits to the NHS if we left. In reality, of course, this is proving to be complete tosh. The UK needs a healthy immigrant workforce to do many of the jobs that our young university graduate population wouldn’t conceive of doing – from farm labourers to hospitality workers. The biggest example of the folly that we have made is in the NHS, where the workforce is comprised of 12.5% of foreign workers, 5.6% coming from the EU. The percentage of NHS doctors from the EU in currently 10%, and nurses approaching 5%. Unlike the common perception that these people are ‘taking our jobs’, they are not. They are merely filling vacancies that we have failed to fill, due to short-sighted failure to train sufficient numbers of British graduates, only now, very belatedly, being addressed.

See what happens when I am left to type away on long tedious car journeys! Save to say, so far, I have really embraced the differences between the European nations that we have encountered on our travels, and will be very sad to say that I am no longer part of this culturally diverse group of people.

Travel-wise, we have just driven through Dresden, which was, of course, completely destroyed in the Second World War from the allied bombing, and had to be completely re-built subsequently. How apt, therefore, that I was having a rant on the benefits of unity at the time!

I’ll be less serious tomorrow – promise!

Last night on our campsite in Bohemia was an interesting experience – some good, some bad. Once we had got over the fact that our ‘pitch’ was the size of a postage stamp, squidged in between ‘Big Whites’ and caravans in all directions, and the fact that the entirety of Bohemia seemed to be staying there for the bank holiday weekend, we resolved to make the most of it. Everyone around us was having great fun. The site was situated right on the River Vitava, and many families had come with small inflatable boats, and were enjoying a day on the river. The place was teaming with children, having great fun playing in the water fountains installed for their benefit, or cycling around the site on their trikes and bicycles. I can understand if you are thinking that this sounds nightmarish, but actually, it was hard not to be infected with the general feeling of jollity. The saving grace, of course, was that they had opened the bar, cafe and restaurant for the weekend.

So Howard and I sat in the sun, watching the world go by, with a cold drink in our hands on the terrace. Having still not got to the shops, we opted to eat there too – simple, but tasty food. As we were eating supper, two young men started setting up microphones and sound systems, in preparation for the live music! 

Well, it turned out to be something akin to a ‘festival’, but without the mud and wellies. Children were dancing to the music on the grass in front of the two guitarists, one acoustic guitarist, with an ingenious set of tambourines on his legs, and one with an electric guitar. I can’t hand on heart say that they were good, but they were definitely entertaining. They played old classics like Otis Redding’s ‘Stand by Me’, Nancy Sinatra’s ‘These Boots Were Made For Walking’, and Pink Floyd’s ‘Another Brick in the Wall’. Howard and I loved it.

Before retiring to bed, we had a lovely walk along he river banks, and all was well with the world. We went to sleep with the music still playing in the distance. Then, at about midnight, the party moved from the bar area, to right outside Oscar. A whole crowd of youngsters decided to carry on partying once the music had stopped – and they were loud, very loud, and clearly also a bit worse for wear. We tossed and turned, hoping that one of the other campers would come out and complain, but it took until 3am before one brave Czech woman eventually could stand it no longer, and had a go at them. Even then, it was another half hour before they eventually dispersed. So what had started as quite a fun evening, turned into a bit of a nightmare.

Bleary eyed, Howard and I were up early, keen just to move on. We had booked a hotel on the outskirts of Prague for tonight, so by 10am we had left Oscar at the hotel, and were heading off into the city.

It was a beautiful sunny day, and our taxi driver explained to us that the Czechs always take a four day holiday at the beginning of May, so it was likely that the city would be busy. He was right. By midday, the streets and squares were thronged with crowds. Both Howard and myself have visited Prague before, so we felt under no pressure to have to see all the sights. So instead, we just wandered at our leisure. We had morning coffee in the main St. Wenceslas Square in the Old City. Then we wandered across the Charles Bridge, which was bustling with tourists, people selling their wares, largely paintings, and street musicians. I stopped to listen to a group of old guys playing jazz, with a double base, saxophone, guitar and a skiffle board being played with kitchen implements. Next moment, I turn around to see that Howard had started entertaining the crowds with a bit of ‘Dad-Dancing’ – what can I say? On the other side of the bridge, we found a lovely cafe for an early lunch. This proved a brilliant spot. It was situated in the same square as the metal sculpture of two men having a pee – for those who have visited Prague, you will know the one I mean. So we sat, eating our lunch, watching the reaction of all the people’s faces when they saw the sculptures. Little girls winced, teenage girls looked embarrassed, most women seemed to want to have their photo taken stood next to the pissing men. Most of the males just looked bemused. We decided you could spend an entire day just observing people’s faces – it would make a brilliant photo project!

Lunch done, we headed up towards the castle, and had a walk through the gardens. The soaring heat made an ice-cream mandatory.

By now the heat and crowds were getting to us, so we wandered back to the Old Town, and then grabbed a taxi back to our hotel. It has been lovely to reacquaint ourselves with this beautiful city. Plus Howard has taught the locals a new form of dancing – rather Bohemian, if you will excuse the pun.

Last night, whilst waiting for or washing to dry in the tumble drier, we took a walk down into the local village. As it turned out, despite being little more than a hamlet, it did have a rather good restaurant. So despite being dressed for walking, we sat outside and enjoyed a quick bite to eat, before returning to our campsite. Walking back up the hill, we were plagued by a swarm of large black flying insects. Initially we thought they might be hornets or horse-flies, but they seemed too large for either of these. At one point, we were literally being dive-bombed by them. We hurried back to Oscar, and Howard looked up insects in this part of Bavaria. It turns out they were large flying beetles.

A little later, once we had retrieved the washing, we then had the fun activity of putting the duvet cover on the double duvet in a space no bigger that a table! Previously we had always managed to do this outside the van, but the logistics of doing it inside, in the dark were hilarious – not to be recommended!

Being still early in the season, there was still only one small washroom opened on our site, which was being used for both men and women. So this morning, when Howard and I went for our showers, we were using adjacent shower cubicles. Suddenly, out of the corner of my eye, I spot one of these huge beetles, at least 2cm in length, lying on it’s back on the shower ledge, about 4 inches from my head. It is trying desperately to right itself. Heroically, I scream, then start whimpering. Howard thinks something catastrophic has happened to me! I can honestly say, it is the quickest shower I have ever taken. Unlike our tiny midges in Scotland, they clearly do large insects in Bavaria.

We packed away and set off through Bavaria, and on to the Czech Republic. I think the look of a place, in general, reflects the mentality of the people. Driving through Bavaria, everywhere we looked, everything was neat and tidy, in perfect order. The charming chalet like houses were beautifully kept, with precisely manicured gardens. The fields were tidy and ordered, and the wood piles exactly stacked. The heavily wooded countryside looked lush and green, and already farmers were starting to harvest the first cut of grass of the season. Every village seemed to have a picturesque church as it’s epicentre, often with spires with a little onion dome, so typical of this area.

As we crossed over the Czech border, the look of the buildings and the cultivation of the fields perceptively changed. The houses changed to more utilitarian rendered buildings, with tiled roofs, and the woods gave way to large arable fields, often with bright yellow oil-seed rape. It wasn’t unpleasant, just not quite so pristine.

As we crossed the border, we took the opportunity to fill up with diesel, at the much lower prices here than in Germany. Many of the Germans were doing the same, some even filling billy cans too. We purchased yet another vignette, and also took the chance to pick up some cheap Tanqueray, in anticipation of inflated prices in Iceland and Scandinavia.

We stopped at a pleasant medieval market town called Volyne, which had a stunning black and white church in it’s central cobbled square.

Arriving at our campsite for the night, there were no available places. Thankfully though, we had booked a pitch, so they were obliged to find us a spot. We are currently parked in what resembles more of a car park in a field – far from ideal. I guess this will be a taste of things to come, as the season becomes busier. We have been truly spoilt up until now, with near deserted camping grounds.

But thankfully, we’re only here for one night, and as they say, tomorrow is another day!

Today we left Salzburg, and took a beautiful scenic drive through the Austrian Tyrol, then on into Bavaria. The scenery was miles of rolling hills, interspersed with picturesque chalets, all spotlessly kept. The fields were mainly laid over to pasture, although a few had been planted up with crops that were just starting to sprout. It is clearly very rich farmland in this part of the world, and the overall impression was of green meadows scattered with yellow wild flowers, and a clear blue sky.

We headed for a town called Passau in Bavaria, which sits on the confluence of the rivers Inn (hence Innsbrook) and the Danube. It is a very attractive town, the Old Town effectively sitting on an island between the two rivers. It is famed for it’s beautiful cathedral, the Dom, and a profusion of other churches and colourful Bavarian houses. The Old Town appears to be completely pedestrianised, and it was by there chance that we found a free parking spot right by one of the bridges into the old quarter. That is not entirely true, it was free for the first half hour, but being Saturday, all the locals appeared to be flouting the parking rules, so we did the same. 

We sat in a charming little cafe by the River Inn, planning to combine a late morning coffee with lunch. It was a popular spot, however, with only one poor frazzled waitress serving, so we sat for ages waiting to give our food order. To be honest, we weren’t too fussed – we had a prime view of the town, and so we just sat and watched the word go by, but always with Oscar within sight.

After eating, we decided to take a quick wander round the town. Our error was not clocking the position of Oscar on one of our phones. Within minutes we had meandered off into the labyrinth of little streets and squares, and got ourselves completely lost. The main problem being, that there were several churches with similar looking spires, and we got fooled into thinking we were parked near one of them, when in fact it was on the completely opposite side of the island. For a few moments, Howard became very concerned that we would return to find Oscar towed away, but once we had located the right side of the island, all was well, and we re-traced our steps back along the river. Passing the shops, I was momentarily tempted to buy Howard a pair of lederhosen, until I discovered they cost 500 euros a pair!

As we drove out of Passau over the River Danube (me, singing said waltz), we both commented that the Danube appeared a rather murky green colour, rather than the blue we had been led to believe, all these years. However, as we drove a little further along the banks, we came to the point that the two rivers merged, and indeed it became clear that the River Inn was an icy white, whereas the Danube, in comparison, did have a tint of blue about it. So all is good with the world still – and we can confidently listen to the ‘Blue Danube’ waltz without worrying. 

On leaving Passau, we drove alongside the Danube for fifteen miles or so, before heading up into the depths of Bavaria, to our campsite for the night.

We are making the most of our early arrival to do the washing and have a tidy up, although we had failed to realise that there was no shop or restaurant open on site at this time of year, and tomorrow being Sunday, nothing will be open. So we are rather regretting not stocking up on provisions before arriving. Sadly, we may have to make do with crackers and cheese, washed down with a little liquid refreshment. It’s a tough life!

Late last night we decided reluctantly to move on from Zell Am See, after the family in the campervan parked right at our nose had yet an other flaming argument amongst themselves. This morning, the guy was prowling about wearing a skull emblazoned gilet, and clearly his other two neighbours felt the same as us, since the lady from reception came and disconnected all three of our electric supplies at the same time.

It was a shame, since it was the most glorious morning in the Austrian Tyrol. I went for a quick walk along the path we had walked the previous evening, alongside the water meadows. This time, the view of the mountains was stupendous – and the slow-clad tops were clearly visible.

When I got bak to the van, Howard was well into packing up, as were the couple on the other side of the obnoxious bickering family. Just as we were all done, and ready to go, the evil eyed German guy summoned his family into his Big White, and they were away. The tension in the air immediately dissipated. If only we’d know they were leaving, and we would happily stayed another night, but we had already booked a hotel in Salzburg for the night. The other couple, on seeing that the ‘neighbours from hell’ had left, started unpacking their stuff again, clearly with the same sentiment as us.

But as it turned out, we had a lovely day. We headed the short distance into Bavaria in Germany, to a place Howard remembered staying with his parents fifty odd years ago. It was called Ramsau, and what a gem it was. The short drive there was sublime – with the most stunning alpine vistas. Somehow, our on board music, although set to ‘shuffle’, has a way of picking apt tunes to play as we drive. In the Julian Alps, and again in the Dolomites, it selected ‘Ain’t No Mountain High Enough’ by Diana Ross. Today, it was some very upbeat Rod Stewart, and Nelly Furtado ‘I’m Like A Bird’, which cheered us up immensely. As we drove into the village, which is situated near to Berchtesgaden (famous for being home to Hitler), the views of the mountains became magnificent. Driving along by the river, into the village, the view of the oft photographed church came into view. We took a few photos on the bridge. Howard, of course, was asked to take the now statutory photo for a Korean lady, who wished someone to take her photo with the view. Once more, I just chuckled to myself.

After a wander, we found a splendid cafe looking out over the mountains, for a late breakfast. There is something very decadent about having your breakfast at one o’clock in the afternoon – but I must say, it was quite delicious.

We then made our way into Salzburg, which only took us half an hour or so. We found our hotel (with a very red interior!), and quickly set off to explore the city. I was gutted that I had missed the ‘The Sound of Music’ tour by half an hour, since I am a huge fan of the film. Howard, on the other hand, was clearly delighted, although he faked some moderate disappointment just to show willing.

Salzburg as a city is pretty compact. Our first stop was the home of Mozart, easily spotted by the huge numbers of people taking photos of the building. I was rather saddened to see that the ground floor has now been turned into a ‘Spar’ shop! We made our way to the Dom, the cathedral in the centre of the old town, then wandered around some of the back streets. We found ourselves in the square where the Naxis had taken away Captain Von Trapp in the film. We also found a Monastery and graveyard that bore a very strong resemblance to where the Von Trapp family hid from the Naxis, although Howard read later that it was filmed in a Hollywood set based on this location.

We finished our trip by taking a ride up to the Castle in the funicular. At the top, we sat on the terrace, enjoying the view over the city, and had a drink. Then it was back to the hotel,  to be dazzled by the so very red decor!

So in the end, it has been a good day. I am glad to have seen Salzburg, but I think it is beaten hands down by the alpine scenery that surrounds it. In particular, I think the mountains as we drove through this small corner of Bavaria were just amazing – and definitely somewhere that I would recommend. Howard is just delighted that he isn’t the only person in Salzburg wearing a cork hat!

The day started with a definite chill in the air. Whereas yesterday we had clear blue skies, the tops of the mountains were misted in cloud first thing, and the walk to the bathroom felt nippy. We still persevered and had our breakfast outside, but there was no hanging around lapping up the view – we quickly got on with packing up. We decided to take a better look at Cortina, before leaving the Dolomites, so drove the few miles down the road for morning coffee. We had not really appreciated yesterday when we had cycled in, what a huge town it is. Clearly in the ski season it is buzzing, but even today, it seemed thronged with people.

After coffee, we headed off towards Austria. The scenery driving through the Dolomites was stunning, but not with the same clear view of the tops as we had been lucky to see the day before. Crossing the border into Austria was a non event – we barely noticed it had happened. We stopped at the first petrol station to buy our motorway vignette for Austria – I’m sure the British government could earn a few bob by doing the same.

Howard had hoped to drive over the Glossgockner Pass into Zell Am See, since he had fond memories of doing it with his parents. Unfortunately, when we looked on the website, we had missed it’s opening by just two days – it re-opens for the year on 28th April. However, if the main alternate route, which we ended up taking, is an easy drive compared to the Glossgockner, than I’m quite pleased it wasn’t open. I winced a couple of times as we did some hairpins up to the point where the road passes through the mountain in a long tunnel, but I know Howard was disappointed not to put Oscar through his paces. Frankly, by now, the weather was turning, and the rain had set in, so we didn’t miss much in any case.

We stopped en route to pick up some supplies – it’s always interesting shopping in new countries. Howard amused the lady at the checkout by selecting the only bright pink shopping bag on offer – ‘A man buying pink’, she chuckled in German. She then proceeded to offer me a rose – apparently it’s the thing here. When we got back to the van, Howard commented he was surprised I didn’t pick the chocolate. Well if I’d realised there was free chocolate on offer, you can guess which I would have preferred! We now have a limp pink rose sitting in a water bottle on the cooker in Oscar. I suspect by tomorrow it will be gone.

We headed on to Zell Am See, a pretty town on the lake, where Howard and I had holidayed maybe 35 years ago whilst living in Somerset. We have fond memories of a lovely week, hill walking in the alpine sunshine. Sadly, today, it was not looking quite as appealing in the rain as we arrived at our campsite. To make matters worse, the lady at the reception turned out to be a jobs-worth, insisting on seeing our ASCI camping discount card, as Howard presented his ASCI ID card, which had sufficed in every other campsite for the past 105 days! But no, she was having none of it, so I tramped back to the van in the rain and duly presented the card. But then it wasn’t signed! ‘OMG, it’s not signed because no-one other than you has ever asked for it’, I thought to myself, but bit my tongue, as Howard gave me one of his withering looks, as if to say leave it.

We picked a nice spot with a view of the water meadows and mountains, and had just settled down to tea, when a German family in their ‘Big White’ chose to park right in front of our bonnet. Now, there is a sort of campsite etiquette that says that you just don’t do that. To make matters worse, as soon as they arrived, the couple and their two teenage children started bickering amongst themselves. My mood was sinking fast, so we opted to walk the 4km or so into the town before it got dark. Before we left, we put Oscar’s ‘going to bed’ face on – his screen cover.

The light was flat as we walked beside the lake, but there were hundreds of swallows swooping low over the water catching flies in the dusk – quite a sight. As we returned to the van, we read the sign that described the birdlife you might see. We pressed the button for ‘corncrake’ to hear it’s characteristic noise, and on queue, two birds rose from the long grass in the distance. The light was too poor to see if they were indeed corncrakes – but they were about the right size, so perhaps they were. I’d certainly like to think so. It’ll certainly give Howard something to look out for on his run tomorrow morning.

In the meantime, I’m waiting to see the expression on the German family’s faces when they open their door and see Oscar’s eyes peering at them!  

We retired fairly early last night with a view to rising at dawn to see the sunrise. In truth, we didn’t really need to set our alarm, since, just as the night before, the noises emitted from the wildlife on the lake were significantly louder than either of our alarms. We got up just after six, trying very hard not to wake the other campers. Sunrise was about twenty minutes later, and well worth the effort of getting out of our bed. The colour over the lake was magnificent, and a fitting end to our stay on Lake Garda.

Having got up so early, Howard then went off for his run, whilst I showered. When he got back, off pinged his Garmin with yet another award – the ‘Early Riser’s’ award. Since he’s clearly so motivated by prizes, I’m now considering a star chart for him – maybe one star for not leaving your dirty socks on the floor of Oscar, two for remembering where you left the car keys – it may work?

After breakfast, we headed off up the east side of Lake Garda, with the intention of having coffee at the far end. However, we hadn’t taken into account that it was an Italian bank holiday, celebrating the liberation of Italy at the end of the World War 2, and the roads around Lake Garda were heaving. After sitting in a traffic jam, we thought better of our idea, and headed straight on to our next destination – the Dolomites. It was a shame though, since Howard had camped on the shores of Lake Garda with his parents as a child, and had been keen to show me some more of it – another time maybe. 

We headed first up the motorway, the scenery getting more and more mountainous as we approached the foothills of the Dolomites. Once off the motorway, the vistas became absolutely spectacular! We stopped in a village, eager to buy some provisions, but all the shops were closed for the bank holiday. So in the end, we managed to find a cafe open to have a late lunch, and we sneaked away a couple of the bread rolls in our serviettes for our tea.

Our campsite for the night is situated near to Cortina, in the shadow of some towering peaks, and our pitch is right by a thundering mountain stream. I suspect it must have one of the best camping views in Italy. Since we had arrived in good time, we opted to go for a quick cycle ride, along the cycle path into Cortina. It had seemed a good idea at the time, but the cycle track was clearly more suited for mountain bikes, being very rocky and uneven. So we bumpity-bumped our way there and back, and in the end had rather wished we’d walked the five miles. Back at Oscar, we sat and had a cup of tea admiring our stupendous view.

It’s decidedly colder here in the mountains, and the shorts are now off, and the trousers back on. As the sun is going down, there is a definite chill in the air. Our cacophony of bird noise by the lake has now been replaced by the thunderous roar of water. Bets are on as to who will be getting up in the night first!

Last night, Howard and I felt that we were right in the middle of ‘Spring Watch’. Having eaten out at lunchtime, last night we had opted to sit outside Oscar, under the awning, watching the wildlife show before our very eyes. By putting up the sides of the awning, and leaving the front off, we had effectively made ourselves a widescreen TV. After filling the awning with industrial quantity of citronella essence, we just sat back and enjoyed the entertainment. The activity on the lake last night after the sun had set was extraordinary. Clearly once it cools down a little, is when all the fun begins. There was a profusion of bird hormones floating around, it being the time of year that grebes select their partners. So we watched, as pairs did their strange little dances together, mirroring each others head movements, looking quite absurd. There was obviously some sort of hierarchy going on, and the larger males, who had bagged their woman, were vociferously seeing off other males, while still keeping an eye on their chosen lady. Meanwhile, the carp were going crazy. Literally, every thirty seconds or so, these enormous fish were leaping out of the water catching flies. The large Coypu was bustling around in the reeds just below us, making enormous splashes. The cacophony of noise was unbelievable! It was by far the noisiest place we have camped the entire trip – forget dog barking, loud cars or disruptive campers, this beat the lot!

We had assumed that once it got really dark, that all this din would settle down. But not a bit of it. At midnight, Howard and I were still sitting outside taking in the performance. Past one o’clock, tucked up in Oscar – it was still going on, feet from our bed. I’m not sure what time I eventually nodded off, but it took a while, since every time a fish jumped, Howard laughed. The reason for this became clear to me this morning, when I got up. Howard was off on his run, and as I tidied up the table under the awning, abandoned from last night, I found the bottle of honey and mistletoe grappa lying there, with a substantial quantity drunk. Maybe it kept the flies away, who knows?!

This morning, our plans changed at the last minute. We were starting to pack away, and head further north up the lake, but we were making slow progress. The wildlife show in front of our eyes kept distracting us. In the end, we opted for another night here, and went for a bike ride along the lake to ensure that we did at least move a little.

We cycled in the opposite direction to Sirmione, along a cycle path to the town of Piscieri del Garda. In parts, the cycle route took us alongside the busy road, but once in the town we found a quiet corner to have our lunch, looking out over the river. Piscieri is an attractive town, with thick medieval walls, and a pretty old part with narrow lanes and tiny squares. The river passes through it’s centre, feeding into Lake Garda, and an arched stone bridge connects Piscieri with a small island set aside for parkland, and then another causeway connects to a marina. It was much quieter than the bustling Sirmione we experienced yesterday, and all the better for it.

En route back to our campsite, we opted to follow the lakeside path, which was a much more pleasant way to return, and stopped for our now statutory afternoon ice-cream.

Back at the campsite, we are yet again being amused by our feathery and piscine friends. Howard is now officially an ardent wildlife watcher – who would have guessed?!!