It’s not what most people hope for when they go wandering off travelling, yet it is an essential part of any experience.

Yes – as a Englishman I honestly could tell you whether rain is wet or dry – heavy or light (not as in how much rain, but as in whether each drop is heavy or light) and countless other measurements, for that is pretty much the weather forecast in England.

We may as well have our forecasters stand there and just say – at some point this week it will most probably rain, then – should a week pass without rain we are suddenly alerted to the fact that global warming is about to happen, all hell breaks loose as hose-pipe bans are introduced, water butts arrive in streets and there is not a water bottle left on the shelves of Tesco’s.

I have little idea of where this entry is going really, except to say that it is raining here in Prien am Cheimsee, and it has coated the alps that haunt the view out of our door in a strange forboding darkness.

Which is just bloody awesome.

Our journey from Scandinvia into eastern europe begins with another ferry crossing, this time on the Tallink ferry – Baltic Princess.

The sun is setting as we arrive, dipping slowly below the horizon, yet the light takes longer to fade.  We are slowly getting used to this, as the light up here in the Northern part of the Northern hempisphere hangs around for just that little bit longer.

We’re camped up in Pirita harbour, just a few kilometres east of Tallinn centre.  We’ve cleaned out the van, somehow it managed to get dirtier than ever, despite the fact we have been in a hostel for four days in Helsinki.

Our drive from the ferry port to here took us past some of the strangest constructions I have seen.  The all concrete construction casts them instantly as Soviet structures, the crumbling edges and mossy roofs tell a tale of a time forgotten.

The two structures, on either side of the main Pirita road line up to look out over the Baltic, back to Helsinki and Finland.  Sitting behind one of the structures is a large column, a soviet memorial to the war dead.

Across the harbour resides the facade of a monastry, it’s single remaining wall contains holes where windows once were but little else.

Yet if you look closely you start to see the real Tallinn, modern constructions are springing up, barely visible through the pine trees and internet access points are signposted everywhere.  For a country that has only been free for two decades it has already, in some respects, over taken some of the grand old powers in Europe.

The clash between old and new continues as we walk towards the old town of Tallinn.

Modern wood and glass clad extensions site atop old stonework foundations and buildings.

Tallinn’s old town is it’s real gem.  Hidden away behind stone walls complete with round towers and gatehouses it instantly grabs you, despite the fact that McDonalds has prime location just inside the city gates.

Here the contrast between old and new stops.  There is only one new building here and it makes no attempt to be sympathetic to the old. Yet here, unlike in the suburbs, it feels out of place.

The Town Hall is our destination to meet Sarah and Valerio, two travellers with whom we have arranged an evening, again the couchsurfing network has come in useful.

Over 500  years are contained in these brick walls, the cafes and bars are lively yet, if you manage to shut them out, or just peer down an alleyway or up one of the small streets you could quite believe that this city has changed very little since that time.  Until of course the small blue vans of the litter pickers arrive to keep this small piece of World Heritage clean and tidy.

A newspaper lying on the floor, it’s headline proclaiming something in a different alphabet, reminds me just how close we are to Russia.

After a few fairly reasonably priced drinks in the Hell Hunt, Estonia’s first bar, established in 1992 – we travellers disperse again, agreeing to meet Sarah tomorrow for some sightseeing.

If ever you want to get to know a religion the key thing is to look at its buildings. The sparse Lutherian church near the east gate, with its walls covered in coats of arms – deep brown wood and fading gold lettering to the immensenly white and gold Orthodox Cathedral sat high above the city.  Sarah insists that we see three of them, and she left the Lutherian interior as a surprise for us, so I shall leave the final church as a surprise for you.

After that we head to an unassuming restraunt entitled “Kompressor” where Sarah informs us that they do the best pancakes – and we are not dissapointed, the taste and the quantity suppress our appetite for ferry buffets for now.

Our evening walk leads us out to the park on the east side of town, past the art museum and it’s pretty garden and out to another memorial on the edge of the ice blue Baltic.

Estonia has lost its Soviet feel, what remains are now more quirky artifacts that concrete monsters, the drive towards modernism is surprising though here the people are noticeably more reserved than the Scandinavians.

Coming into Tallinn is like no other city I have been to, it is a complete melting pot of different cultures, different times and different architecture.  A truly unique city that should be on every one’s “to do” list.

…

We stayed at Pirita Harbour Camping.
Camping cost us 200eek (11gbp) per night including electric hookup and toilets, but no showers.
Wifi access is included but you have to send a text to the council run system to gain access for a 24hour period.  The SMS will be charged at your normal rate and there are no other charges.

Please leave a comment, even if just to say hi!

After a few more hours sleep and a long shower, our ferry deposited us on the shores of Finalnd.

Although I swear to you it felt as if we had never left land. The Stockholm archipelago, consisting of some 24,000 islands, kept close company to us throughout the first part of the journey, then after a small crossing of completely empty sea, it was back through an archipelago on the Finnish side.

All of this meant that our journey was incredibly smooth,  In fact the Baltic Ocean has been incredibly flat wherever we have been near it’s shores.  This ocean is so tucked away that it does not have a tide.  It’s incredible ice blue waters seem to invite you in at every chance, though those that take the chance at this time of year must ensure that there is a sauna nearby to survive without getting hypothermia.

We headed into Turku, the old Finnish capital during the time when the Swedes owned most of the lands we have travelled through.

We’re hoping to get a hostel here and join what looks like a parade of boiler suited students.  This is actually their “drinking dress” and it allows them to do silly stuff such as rolling in the grass and getting covered in beer without destroying any of their normal clothes.  I think this throws the Finnish hurtling into first place for practical yet crazy Scandinavians.

Unfortunately all of the hostels are booked, the campsites are shut at this hour and we have little choice but to roll on towards the heady lights of Helsinki.

It is late at night by the time we arrive at our hostel in Espoo, a late night made later by the fact that we have jumped another time zone, now being two hours ahead of London – oh and it is only just getting dark at half past 11.  Which is really screwing with our body clocks.

THe next morning brings a day of just chilling out, enjoying the brilliantly beautiful beaches of Espoo and the Baltic Coastline, the pine trees add an exotic, almost meditterainean feel the just seems out of place in a country where there are only two months that are called “summer”.  The sandy beaches also look out of place, it is only the giant rocks, seen strewn about the landscape and forming cliff edges and formations almost everywhere (our hostel has a roundabout around one such rock in the car park, it’s just too big to be moved), yes – it is only these that remind you that you are in a country more used to snow than sun.

After a day of doing, well not much really, we head into the city of Helsinki.  We took the van.  Not a good idea.  Sat Nav does not cope with small streets.  We do not cope with cobbles.  Van does not cope with tight corners.  We all fall out, but make amends once we find a cool car park.  Apart from the Sat Nav, that has got a lot of apologising to do.

The first thing that surprises us about Helsinki is the incredible, imposing and – in this sunlight – bloody reflective, Cathedral.

It sits up on a plinth, it’s own small plateau in the rising above the streets of Helsinki and commands every tourist to climb the seemingly endless amount of steps up to it.

The interior is lavishly decorated with gold dripping down from every chandelier and up from every candlestick.  It is in stark contrast to the red building sitting on the other side of the river.  The Orthodox Cathedral looks very formal, though its own imposing power is most definitately there, it does not command such a large square or plinth for itself.

We are meeting up with another person from Couchsurfing.org.  This website is a must for travellers, we have found so many different people already and always had a good time.

Sara meets us outside of the white Cathedral and takes us across on yet another boat to the small island of Suomenlinna, literaly translated to Finnish Fortress.

There are two sides to this place.  One is the newer looking Russian side, with small garrisons, shops and other administrative wooden huts dotted around.  Across a small wooden bridge is found the much grander and larger castle.  Our view of this is distracted though by the hot weather and the view of the Baltic, so blue, lapping against a small sandy beach and our destination is set.

The afternoon passes us almost without saying a word, then Luke and I return the van to the youth hostel (sat nav is still in the dog house) and travel back into Helsinki by bus, for tonight is Eurovision night and Luke, Sara and I have a date with a large tv screen and a large, cold beer.

Yes, travellers always want food.  Any kind of food.  Doesn’t matter what it is  as long as someone else has prepared it and is doing the washing up then we are fine.

So when we were told about a ferry crossing between Sweden and Finland that included an all you can eat breakfast buffet, followed by an all you can eat evening buffet, it did not take us long to decide that this was the crossing for us!

So off we headed for the little “village” of Kappelskar.

When I say village, I mean literally Kappelskar is just the port.  That’s it.  Nothing else really.

But still, we managed to find a campsite, plug in the electric heater and get warm.  And get out of Sweden.

We have nothing against Sweden in general, the country is beautiful, the people welcoming and friendly and we have had a lot of… experiences… it is just that since we have arrived in Sweden we have had nothing but rain, the van has broken down and we had a nightmare trying to find somewhere to stop in the van.  Atleast somewhere that has electric and the waste facilities we needed.

It had felt like we were in Sweden for ages, despite it just being over a week.

Perhaps it was just our timing or perhaps it was just bad karma, what ever it was we were looking forward to our brunch buffet!

Our 8 hour ferry would take us from Sweden, to Nantalli in Finland, just north of Turku – once the capital of Finland.

We had booked a cabin, which had cost us only 20 swedish krona extra and it was well worth the money, within half an hour of boarding Luke and I had showered, eating our own body weight at the buffet and were now fast asleep in our cosy cabin…

Ferry Costs

We travelled with Finnlines from Kappelskar to Nantalli

They have three sailings per day; 09:15, 17:30 and 23:00

The morning ferry is the cheapest, you do not have to book, but turn up early to make sure you can get a place.

Our ticket cost us 1800 SEK, including a 2 person cabin on the inside

Not having our campervan for the weekend did cause a few issues.

Concern number 1 is of course a place to sleep.  We have become to used to just rocking up and parking almost anywhere (in Sweden you may park overnight for free, anywhere with the P sign) and are not ready for the Swedish hostel system where you have to book, using an automated phone line – in Swedish, of which I speak only three words.
Those three words are quite important to the Swedish though, number 1 is Fika… a word meaning literally “food/coffee/snack / any excuse for a break!  You see signs for Fika on almost every small shop in Sweden, and it is something that should be introduced in the UK for sure!

Second is Hej Hej, meaning – Hello, an essential greeting! And Thirdly there is Largomm (spelling might be wrong here).  Largomm literally sums up Sweden, for it means “just enough to fill you up, but not more”  which is quite a nice thought, no oversized portions but nothing rip off.  I like it and I like the way it sums up the Swedish culture and identity.

So we are on our way to Stockholm, with no hostels open and also no hotels open, the eery light of the eve has caught us out and it is nearly two am, the sun is almost rising again through our windscreen.  We eventually find a hotel Ibis in the nearby (by Swedish standards) town of Nykopping.

Six hours later we are up and out, on the final run to Stockholm in our lovely Saab 95 turbo, for which I am sure the lovely Emily must be thanked.

Our bed for tonight is the first thing we sort out, heading for a rather bizarre youth hostel located on an old warship, the AF Chapman.  The old sailing ship has done many miles and is now a prominent attraction on an island opposite the old town of Stockholm. Parking for the car is not too bad either at 30krona (about £2.50)

So – our bed for tonight is sorted, although the swipe card used for entry onto the ship is slightly dodgy, leaving us hoping that we will be able to get back on!!

Stockholm, as with Copenhagen, is a city built on a load of islands.  Luke and I fear for the lives of our shoes after our Copenhagen expedition led to getting stuck on many of the smaller islands and having to walk miles to get back off again! So we decided to keep our walking tour to a more confined area.

We head off into the old town, Gamla Stan.  It is a maze of tight, twisting streets with shops hiding around every corner and restaurants attracting the flocking tourists with charm rather than brashness.  The Royal Palace, consisting of 680 rooms and thus making it the largest in the world, occupies one corner of this small island and the wide streets surrounding it are in severe contrast with the aforementioned maze just a few hundred metres away.

There is mostly certainly a tourist feel to this part of Stockholm, as is to be expected. We hear many English and American accents in the hordes of people clamouring for that certain photo of this old place.  Luke and I head off into the side streets to see what else we can find, which is not too much really, but the calm and coolness of these streets is not to be missed.

By this time my mobile has died (my phone has a habit of doing this at inconvenient times) so we head off to find a place to get a charger (with European socket) and head back to the hostel for a few hours of much needed kip!
We had arranged to meet some people from the brilliant Couchsurfing.org website in the evening, unfortunately due to mobile numbers, emails and all sorts of other miscommunications we are unable to get hold of our drinking buddies for this evening and so, with ther remaining power left in the laptop I connect to the Internet and post an “urgent drinks request” on the Stockholm page, then the stomach growls and it is time for some food!

The old town has transformed in just a few hours from streets packed full of travellers into a much quieter, cosier and more relaxed place.  The bars are full of people kicking back and the restaurants are crammed with smart looking people enjoying some good looking food.

Being on a budget of course meant that we were looking for the most “cost-effective” place to eat, rather than the one that looked like you needed a mortgage to enter.

We were not disappointed though, nor were we snubbed at – for we only really had a few “travelling clothes” with us, which can cause an issue in some snobbier places.  Our restaurant looks reasonably priced and once inside the host whisks us off to a table, then onto another table (he mis-judged something or something, but was very polite about it all).
Our waitress was yet another incredibly good looking Swede, although not blonde – which is better in my books.
With our meals ordered Luke and I settled into our beers (and wine).  Then the meals arrived.

Now I have mentioned before about Largomm, and this is exactly what I got, a healthy, but not too large portion of meatballs in lingonberry sauce with some mashed potato, a truly brilliant meal.

Just as Luke and I were ready for an early night a text came through from our “urgent drinks request” on couch surfing and just a few hours later we were knocking back a few beers on a fairly orderly bar crawl around the south Stockholm island of Sodermalm.

At around 4am, and with the sun now firmly asserting itself in the sky we headed back for a night on the AF Chapman, another Scandinavian Capital has been partied in, and yes, I would recommend anyone to come here.  The city is clean, laid back when not in the packed tourist areas and that friendly feel to it that is missing in so many cities. 

Stockholm has soul.

It’s Friday, we are all fully recovered after a relaxing stopover at Del’s place and from this campsite, situated right on the edge of a lake.

We are ready to tackle the onslought that will be Stockholm, a complete weekend of meeting people (via couch surfing), walking around, having a look at what is going on and so on.

For once we are actually up reasonably early (about 9 am – ok well it is early for us!) The bright red van is packed, ready to go, we’ve got 50 litres of fresh water and nothing stopping us from the 300kilometre journey that will take us to the vibrant capital of this strange country.

I say strange country and actually I do mean it.

Sweden is probably one of the few countries where they almost “expect” you to visit at only certain times.  Every person we have met says that we should come back in the summer, apparently the biggest party is the midsummer celebrations, where the partying continues into the next morning, noon and even night.

Yet, travelling at this time of year we have seen not many campervans about really and the few youth hostels we have looked into are only open if you have booked them, not the “rock up and book in” type of hostels that exist almost everywhere else I have been.

These issues were about to play havoc with us.

So stockholm yer – er no, well maybe not right away.

We usually have to muck around a bit to get the van started, using a bit of full throttle and patience, but she will eventually start.  But not this time.  There was nothing.  The battery was turning the engine over but the engine just didn’t want to kick in.
Phone call number 1… breakdown company to arrange a truck and techie to come out to us.

Luckily for us the campsite guy seems to know what he is doing with engines, the old (antique) volvo digger in the background takes about 30minutes to start he tells us as, dressed already in workman’s overalls, he heads straight under the bonnet of our stricken van.

After some prodding, poking and more attempts to start the van we have completely exhausted our battery, but our man in blue overalls thinks that it is most probably air in the fuel system – I had changed the fuel filter just a day ago and, although she started first time then, it seemed to be the causing a problem now.

Phone call number 2… What is an LDV Convoy?
Of course once I had rung my breakdown company and told them I was broken down abroad they had transferred my “file” to their european call centre, who had no idea what an LDV Convoy is, strangely enough not many people outside of the UK have – it had already caused a stir amongst the repair garage in Germany, from where we had bought the fuel filter.

So after trying their systems one final time we (the lovely sounding Emily and I) decided it would be easiest to call it a Ford Transit, as that is the engine we have.

The campsite guy returns now with a battery charger and promptly plugs in the van before heading off to help an older couple with their awning – is there no end to this man’s talents?

Phone Call number 3… Ok Mr Gardner, we have a truck on it’s way to you, but where are you?

Yes – I have no idea how that can work either, but between a few postal codes, Nei’s (no) and Ja’s (Yes), from the campsite guy-turned-navigation-system and the lovely Emily looking on Google maps we manage to find our precise location, down to the last tree.

Around half an hour later the truck arrives, almost as red as our van – but not quite, our campsite guy has now turned into translator and is explaining as well as helping the techie from the recovery firm.

Both conclude that it is probably air in the pipes and that – with a bit of persuasion, a jumpstart from the truck and a heap of luck that the van should eventually turn over.

An hour of fiddling, a half hour of looking and fifteen minutes of head scratching later and we are still not moving, nor starting and with the weather having turned from a fairly fine morning into and afternoon of rain that would embarass even the most powerful of showers it was decided that the van will have to go to the workshop.

Now this would be fine if we were in England, most workshops are open until 5pm on a Friday, and probably open saturday morning at least, alas we are not in England, we are in Sweden – meaning that the workshop has already shut and that it will not be open until Monday morning… Crap.

The journey to the workshop takes us into the town of Skovde… pronounced “Hurvdur” apparently.

Chatting to our recovery driver on the way it turns our that he is a busy man.  His normal job is in a factory that makes shop furniture, most notably for the UK retail chain “Next”. He is also a fireman whenever his pager goes off and the recovery driver every third weekend and he has an interest in classic American cars, owning a Pontiac himself, although my memory fails me as to which.

Phone Call number 4… Mr Gardner, we were just wondering how things were going with your car…

Well yes, that was that, we had no van until Monday, we had gathered a few belongings, plus our sleeping bags and headed out of the workshop (which was being locked up) and into the Preem fuel station around the corner where we took up temporary residence.

We find a seat in the Preem shop and grab a quick coffee, the friendly attendant informs us that some of the small packets of sweets on the font of the des are “free samples”, but she had that look in her eye that just seemed to say it all, pity.  Still Ihave never been one to pass up a free bag of sweet goodness and dig into a meatball baguette, that unfortunately wasn’t free.

Phone call number 5… Mr Gardner, we have checked your policy and you have a hire car available, will you be needing it?

Well hell yer – the same thing applies to free cars as it does to sweets, offer it to me and I will take it.  After double checking the location of the Preem garage the lovely Emily tells us that our car will be here shortly, I jokingly ask for a Ferrari, knowing full well that the Toyota Yaris that I am entitled to will not be the most thrilling ride in the world.

Phone Call number 6… Mr Gardner, Emily here, your Saab will be here shortly…

My What?!  How on earth did… that’s not a Toyo… don’t ask questions, just accept. OK I say and await our luxury car (and yes, in comparrison to an LDV convoy anything is luxury, but this was like proper nice.

A few minutes later the guys and gal from Avis turn up with a gleaming Saab 95 Turbo, running on Ethanol… certainly have to remember that when we fill up.

Somehow Luke and I have turned into a family of four with a heap of luggage, and I, dear readers, am now mysteriously Dr Gardner.

I told you “Emily” was lovely…

So off we shoot towards the vibrant capital of this strange country – well we will do once I stop reaching down the wrong side for the gear stick, Luke is worried that at some point I will just open the door and eject myself whilst reaching for 4th gear.

That’s all folks, till the morning!

We have decided that the city of Copenhagen is not to be missed, but might also be one in which the van might be a pain to manoeuvre. So we decide upon travelling a bit closer to Copenhagen and so, on yet another warm and sunny day, we pack up and move around 40km north east to a quiet stellplatz near the town of Munke Bjergby.

After negotiating some of the crazy danish lanes we arrive at a small bungalow, behind which a grassy field plays host to one other campervan, a british one at that.

After a bit of van cleaning (including our bug-splattered windscreen) we head off to the local shop/ petrol station/ motor factor/ drinks market and buy some necessities for our evening meal and a litre of oil for the wagon, she appears to be finding this travel malarky a bit of hard work.

Our british next-van-neighbour has a different campsite guide to us, and points out that there is a stellplatz in the nearby larger town of Ringsted, which has a direct rail connection to Copenhagen, beating Munke Bjergby’s walk, bus, walk, bus, train configuration by a country mile.

A look on Google maps tells us that we are now at the same latitude as Glasgow in the UK, which is just incredible.  Here we are, sunbathing, at the start of May and as far north as Glasgow, you would think we were somewhere just slightly south of Mexico with the weather as it is.

Ah, that last sentence has jinxed me, there are now some devilish looking clouds heading our way!

Yep.  Back to disappointment.

You see I have to wait for my insurance documents to come through the post before I can go and get my Road Tax before I can actually drive the van off the driveway! It’s been six days!!! Come on Direct Line, seriously – send the bloody bit of paper!

Anyways readers, I have ordered around £300 worth of stuff this morning.  Hopefully all delivered between tomorrow and Monday – so I’m going to keep this post short. Otherwise I will just end up ranting about how much I dislike my insurance company!

Anyways, must go and put some more wires in for our 6 Sony XS speakers and 1200Watt Subwoofer, much fun!

Some photos from our cleaning and re-spraying days are below, enjoy!

Happy Travelling!
Overland Si

I had a reply on my last post about Budgets from experienced traveller and blogger Lissie from Budget 4wd Travel.

Lissie raised some very good points regarding servicing of the van etc.  In fact there were enough questions for a post, so a post I shall write!

So from here on in Lissie’s comments are in the Block quotes and my answers are below.

I’d say the main thing you are missing – and the biggest risk is maintenance – curently spending A$1500 on torque converter for said 4wd (yes we still have it!).

We’re lucky enough that the van is fairly new (2004).  Of course the downside of this is that there’s a lot that we cannot fix if it did go wrong, most of the injection timing and stuff like that is all controlled by the Engine Management computer and they are damn expensive.

We do have some other spares we will take with us (I used to work for a magazine for the automotive repair trade – it’s not what you know but who you know when it comes to getting things for a good price).

Tyres wear out, etc. We did do 35,000km in 6 months though – you get that in Australia! You should service a diesel every 5000km to – its really a bad idea to miss this (they are less forgiving than petrol in this)

The tyres should last us for atleast 7500 miles, they will be replaced at  the start of the trip if they don’t look like they will.  We will also take two spare tyres (full size) in case of punctures or blowouts.

Fiat Panda, 1.3 Diesel!

As for servicing every 5000km – I’d disagree.  Modern diesels (Like Ford’s 2.4litre Duratorque that powers the LDV) should be able to last 12000 miles between servicing, obviously more often increases longevity and economy etc. I’m not sure if Australia have the same kind of diesels as we do in Europe, I know in America they are seen as slow and sluggish but in Europe diesel powers just about as many cars as petrol.  There is even a small diesel unit for the Fiat Panda!

In pratice you will need to regionalise your budget – you cant spend your average in Bulgaria and expect to spend the same in Sweden LMAO. We budgeted on a weekly basis – cause stuff averges out. What about interent and phones – internet adds up trust me on this!

We are looking at this.  One of the reasons we went for the same costs acros the board is due to weighing up living costs.  In Sweden and Norway etc we can camp for free in layby’s and even out in the wild, so our nightly costs will be nearly nothing, meaning that we can shift some of our 55GBP daily budget aroundfor food or activites.

In Eastern Europe, although we can camp for free, we will not be doing so.  This is due to security, many campervanners have tales of being woken in the night by people robbing them, or even just stealing the whole van whilst they are in the back in bed!

Using guarded campsites does not come cheap though – about 20euro a night minimum, of course this is offset by cheaper activities and food costs.

On the flipside to all that though I quite agree with Lissie’s comment.  It is hard to know what things will cost until we get there, and then budgets can be properly set.  Different countries may have different costs and different regions certianly will.

We set out our budget just to get an idea of our trip’s cost. It’s a kind of “worst case scenario” or “most expensive scenario”.  Once we get underway I am sure we will chop and change things and almost completely rewrite the book.

As for internet and phones – we will only be taking a mobile with us for emergencies.  Again down to costs.  As for Internet, we will be relying on internet cafes in cities, in most youth hostels you can find a pc with internet (free) and on campsites we will be hoping for wi-fi access or again a pc and internet.

You can see Lissie’s post from her travels by clicking  on this link : How much will a budget trip around Australia cost? Part 1: Day to Day Costs I really do appreciate everyone’s comments, and I hope Lissie doesn’t think I am just disagreeing with her! lol.

I hope all the rest of you find these articles useful.  Are there any other tips that you guys want to know about?

Hey guys,
Just a quick post as a few people have asked this question and a few others have come from google search.

So – How are campervans charged on ferries?

There are two factors to take into consideration. Height and Length.

For height different ferry operators have different limits, depending on the size of their car decks in the ferry. Some have a maximum height of up to 2.4 metres, others 2.8 and if you take the eurotunnel, then it is just 1.8 metres tall, so all those cars with top boxes – beware!

The next is length. There seems to be universal agreement amongst ferry companies that anything over 6 metres is classed as “long”.

Of course going over these limits, either height or length, means that you will be moved into a different category and charged a different rate for your crossing.

Expect to be charged 20% more than the normal car rates for travelling with a campervan, and serisouly try to avoid the busy peak times. Your 6 metre long motorhome could fit two little peugeot’s in so the ferry companies will make you pay!

Finally, remember that travelling later at night is always cheaper. I usually book myself onto a midnight ferry crossing ad then find a place to stay on the motorway for free overnight.

You can do this if you are in France or Germany, please remember that in Belgium and the Netherlands that stopping overnight in anywhere apart from deisgnated campsites is illegal.

What do I book for my usual ferry?

I use NorfolkLine.com – £45 for a campervan over 2.4 metres tall, each way. I book the ferry for midnight (but usually turn up around 8 and they put you on the next available for no charge). So it is usually around 11pm that I get to France, and a quick scoot at the speed limit later, we’re into AAchen in Germany, which boasts a wonderful motorway services, and plenty of trees to keep away the noise.. Good night all.