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.

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.

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!

So after arriving a long day touring around Copenhagen, followed by touring round the Viking museum, followed by driving around heading north and all the rest of it – we were glad of the break offered to us by Del, a friend of my parents – who used to babysit me apparently.

We took the chance to catch up on some washing (very much needed) and some comfortable sofa’s! It also gave me the cahnce to catch up a bit with things on this here blog.

So – what is Sweden like as a tourist destination.

Well, it certainly is worthwhile trying to make your trip in the summer months of July-August.  Everyone talks of the massive parties and just lively atmosphere that seems to swell in Sweden, and in particular the region of Skane in the summer.

We came up to Sweden because we thought arriving before the high season would mean cheaper campsite fares (it does) but the down side is that we have got worse weather than we had back in England!  Rain and Wind, and bloody viious wind at that!

The other thing we have found hard to find in Sweden is somewhere to empty our waste water and fill our clean water ( ver- & ensortung).

We were spoiled for choice in Denmark with tha stations being placed at every motorway service station, but in Sweden we seem to have lost them completely and this is compunded by our innability to lay our hands on the much coveted Nordic Camping Guide, which gives directions to all of these stations and more.  No campervan dealer, motorway service station, fuel stop o camp site seems to have a copy, though they have all heard of it.

I am starting to think that there is a conspiracy going on….

Moonlit Beach @ Karlskrona

Random Shots from Driving through Sweden

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!

Hi guys and girls, well my planned updates did not work, so here I will try again, the updates are currently a week behind our tour, but over the course of a few days we will all be back on schedule, of course that is if everything goes to plan, which it invariably won’t.  That is all part of the adventure of course!

After stocking up on a few things in Germany (where things are a weee bit cheaper) we headed across the border to the country of Denmark.

We were headed for a place called Dalby, on the isle of Lyo, the middle of the three main parts of Denmark. Our journey took us through some tiny roads, with the van only just fitting round some of the corners and a few blind summits that has us praying that nobody was coming the other way!

Once we reached Dalby we were greeted warmly at a very plush looking campsite, which is not the 50DKK stellplatz we were looking for.

The campsite attendant informs us that he has no knowledge of the stellplatz and that we aren’t the first to call him about it.  It would appear that are usualy accurate Stellplatz Bordatlas has let us down, which is actually a complete first!

After refusing the polite offer of a place for only 220DKK (about 5 times our budget) we moved off to the nearest place available in the harbour town of Skaelskor.

The journey took us over the first of two major bridges in Denmark, between Lyo and Zealand.  We had heard from other campervaners that this bridges are incredibly expensive and prepared ourselves for a hefty 500krone fee, but at just 212krone we were pleasantly surprised!

It would appear that Danish bridges work out the price on length more than weight or height of the vehicle, so our smaller van (when compared to other “proper” campervans) has once again come up trumps and saved us a few bob.

Once across the bridge we headed south, by this time it was getting dark and we find out that our light beam adjusters (The UK drives on the left, Europe on the right – so headlamp adjusters have to be fitted) are not fitted correctly and neaither of our headlamps is spreading much light on the road.

The sat-nav dumped us out at the entrance to the harbour, where we found a spot and promptly turned in for the night, it had been rather tiring driving all them blasted lanes!

We were woken at some ungodly hour, early in the morning by the trendy harbour master with his sunglasses perched on his baseball cap, bluetooth ear piece in, and designer stubble trimmed to perfection. In well versed English he extracted 90krone from us and pointed us to a spot where we would be less “in the way” and be able to plug into electric.

The sunny weather is still tagging along with us for the ride so we set off in best summer-tourist wear for the Skaelskor Touritst Information Centre…

more tomorrow, one is quite tired, it is 12am!  must sleep!

Ah, my homeland.  Yes Blog readers I was born and spent my younger years growing up in Germany.  It is a country that offers much more than many people think and one that is very motorhome friendly.

We are currently sat in our incredibly comfortable van, Luke is making a cup of tea and I am here updating you.  Ten minutes ago things were very different.

We had forgotten to check the levels of our waste tank, it was only when we noticed some water on the floor that smelt ever so slightly of our dinner just a few hours ago that we realised our mistake. So we rushed round, removed the spare wheel, boxes of stuff and offending waste tanks in haste, sprayed everything with some Dettol and soaked up the water with some tissues.  Well – we have learnt our lesson.  The real killer though is that we have put our electric heater on to dry everything out, but it is so bloody warm already!

We have had some really brilliant weather here.  From our first overnight stop in Belgium, where our lie-in until 10am not only meant that everyother van had already left the services, but also meant that we were swelteringly hot!!

Anyways we have not done too much sight seeing, we have been on a few errands, getting used to the camper lifestyle, finding out where we are going, getting used to the van (particularly the dodgy steering) and just settling in.

We’re currently in NeuMunster, in Northern Germany (on the little bit that connects Germany to Denmark), In a brilliant Stellplatz that costs us 6euro per night, and includes free wi-fi internet, awesome!

We would love to stay here, but we’re unfortunately limited to just one night.  Tomorrow we head off to the port city of Kiel.  Staying in a free camping place.  Unfortunately no internet there though.

So till next time -  Tcheuss!

Hang on – don’t forget to check out my flickr account for all the photos…. http://www.flickr.com/photos/11431278@N07

Guest post…

Hey all, you may remember I offered a guest post a while ago seeing as I am off on holiday this week and connections can not be guaranteed.

This post is from Kevin Littleton, you can find a link to his blog at the bottom of this post. Right, that’s enough from me….. enjoy!

Splashy Splashy

The rains have left me sometime last night while I slept after visiting for a couple days. I awoke this morning to find sunshine pouring through all my windows. I miss the gloom that I danced in yesterday and the puddles that splashed all around that seemed to dance with me. All the puddles are slowly dying as I type this and I can’t help but feel a sadness for them and their mommy who floated inland with the gentle breeze. The weather man says more rain is coming for the weekend and that gives me hope.

Yesterday I sat on the corner of the street with my girlfriend and a cup of tea. It was lightly drizzling and there was a huge puddle in the street before us. We sat there for a long time all bundled up and just talking about nonsense. Lots of cars went by and through that puddle. But the puddle was next to a stop sign so all the cars had to stop before turning onto the main street. This halted any big splashes that could have ended in disaster with the two of us sitting there. We were both surprised that the splashes from the cars were not even making it to the sidewalk, let alone where we were… We both had mixed feelings about that though. When we got up to leave I stomped the puddle…

I didn’t hit the sidewalk either.

They say the rains are coming back for the weekend. I really hope so because my feet are dry and this can’t last for too much longer…

Kevin Littleton
http://www.kevinlittleton.blogspot.com/

Morning all, please leave a comment, even if it is just to say hi!

The weather is terrible here; according to some people. This morning all the roads were flooded.

Hang on a minute, roads floaded? Terrible? I think not!

There is nothing better than carefully piloting your own vehicle through a small lake in the road with the water coming up from the wheel arches and proudly watching your small bow wave lap against the wall of bushes that mark the edge of the road whilst humming the “Flight of the Valkyrie’s” to yourself and imagining that you are in some sort of beach landing craft or extreme 4×4.

Unfortunately on the other side of this puddle (small lake) is just normal tarmac and you start to realise that you should really get out more, I also hope that someone else has thought this – otherwise I have a feeling that those nice men with white coats will be visiting soon.

I am starting to worry that this blog is dragging. Perhaps because that’s how I feel life is right now. Kind of on hold again, waiting for this to happen before that can happen. Please do not fear readers! I shall be on my travels soon.

Here is an offer to all of you;

I am offering out a wee guest post that I will upload later this week. So, if you have travelled yourself or want to raise a topic that you think should be mentioned then please scribble some words down and email it to saxy.si@gmail.com
If you have your own blog I’ll put a link up to that as well. All ideas will be considered and things with pretty pictures may also grab attention as will controversial ideas.

(Photo Credit)

Happy Travelling
Overland Si
Fame seekers can click here to comment, mwahaha!

To start with I thought I would just explain myself a little…

Why do i want to do such a “crazy” thing.

Well its damn well not actually – think about this for one second…

We live in a world where the amount of money that exists doesn’t really exist,

• Where everyday you go into work to make money yet seem to spend half of it just getting to work,
• Where adventures must be completed by Sunday evening at the latest so you can be back at work on Monday morning bright and early to give your all for the company
• Where most of your efforts at work do wonders for the company, but somehow not for you.
• Where you are so tired in an evening after your long day and long commute that family activities are limited to eating tea together.
• Where your ‘life‘ revolves around making sure this routine is carried out

Now i don’t want to sound like some sort of hippie (which I’m really not, I listen to German Hardcore music for christs sake!)

So I decided that this wasn’t worthwhile, nor something I really wanted to do.

Why have i got to where I am now?

Fair question, why have I not already made this decision already. Why did I not up sticks and leave straight after school?

Well really I believe there are two factors to blame here: Me and the education system.

Let’s start with me shall we?

I take 90% of the blame here for not shifting things on. I have always wanted to do things like this but have never really been able to plan anything in advance, nor have I ever managed to save enough money for a big old overlanding adventure.

So I went down the normal path without really saying anything. Off to Uni (Because the schools in the UK are all basically jusdged on how many people go to university this was the route that was “right for me”, hated that, left…

Off to work, started off Okay.. it was an ‘adventure’ in it’s own right as all of life is of course, but now I have come to the realisation that I could flit around ‘normal’ jobs treating each one as it’s own adventure or I could actually go out there and do what I really want to do and what I have always wanted to do.

Me and Trucks

Ask anyone who knows me. I love driving.

I also love any large vehicle. I grew up with my father in the army. He was in the REME (auto technicians in camoflauge). This meant that there were always lots of big vehicles around, from Landrovers up to Tanks and everything in-between.

Since then I just seem to have some sort of admiration for large vehicles, and a want for driving them! (please feel free to use the comments box to remind me how sad I am and the fact that I am compensating for something hehe!)

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Above: at the annual Campervan mecca (the Camping & Caravan salon @ Dusseldorf, Germany

Me and Travel

Whilst my sister and I were gorwing up our parents had a variety of caravans and campervans. Our holidays consisted mostly of travelling hundreds of miles, stoppping, travelling more miles, stopping and so on.

I have never really grown out of this “windscreen tourism” – traveling through Europe whenever possible in my own van, stopping off here and there whenever an opportunity presents itself and stopping over in campsites in a tent for a few days when somewhere that is ripe to explore presents itself, A bit of a European ‘softcore’ overland experience really.

Me and Overlanding

I have always wanted to travel, but i have always dreamed of actually being able to make a living out of it, passing on stories to others and generally providing a service.

This is where overlanding comes in. It provides all the things I could want. Endless scenery explore, a reasonable dollop of “windscreen tourism”, a group of eager travelers as companions and lashings of driving in a large truck.

Well thats how the ideal situation would go anyway…

The reality is probably more like this – ridiculously long drives, crap weather meaning hours are spent crossing just a few miles of terrain, eager companions turn into whining and rebellious and tired hordes and the scenery keeps on trying to kill you, especially the wildlife.

Wake up tomorrow morning, the rains gone and everyone is exhausted. But you’ve made it… Smile!