Our German Jaunt!
In this article I would like to curtail the sceptics view that motorhome holidays are for ‘squares’ and convey to the undecided the endless good fun you can have if you take the plunge and hire yourself a motorhome.
Dubbed ‘camping for wimps’ motorhome holidays are crammed full of luxuries such as hot water (although not endless, hot nonetheless!), comfy beds and warm non-draughty evenings in front of the TV (if you want). Well this is how we ‘sold it’ to our friends when we persuaded them to join us on one of our adventures.
Firstly, you need to know, Trevor and Julie are 5 star accommodation advocates, travelling abroad to them is a haze of airports, Marriott hotels and Egyptian cotton sheets. You can imagine their immediate delight and subsequent fear when we arrived at their semi one early March evening with our ferry tickets secured and a fridge full of food for our journey to Germany.
I must explain at this stage that the reason we were travelling to the land of beer, bratwurst and sauerkraut was not just for an early holiday but to see a concert in honour of The King of Rock n Roll himself! Yes, it was 60 years since Elvis got his call-up papers and was marched off to Bad Nauheim in Germany. We had decided how wonderful it would be, not to fly out there, but to drive. So that was settled! Julie couldn’t wait to transplant all her belongings into our 5 berth motorhome, including slippers, electric toothbrush, numerous items of clothing, and a big fat, heavy feather duvet. I could at this point draw on the differences of myself and my husband being northerners and Trevor and Julie being southerners and that was why they needed the BIG duvet, but actually they were sensible as Germany was to prove rather chilly!
Unfortunately at first Trevor did not share the enthusiasm of the rest of us and was reticent about the lack of a luxury tiled whirlpool bath and a large walk in dressing room.
This soon changed as we headed for Dover. Once off the ferry we began our way through France only stopping to gather a few essentials, mainly beer and wine, we were then on our way through the fields of Belgium. It was beginning to get dark and for the first time myself and my husband’s stoic attitude was failing. In fact it was getting VERY dark and we were struggling to find somewhere to stop. I am inviting those people that have already been lost in the wilderness of Belgium to probably relive their nightmare and I am warning those people who have yet to make this mistake to take heed.
Luckily Julie accessed the internet on her Blackberry to look for a campsite, unluckily the campsite was shut-up, overgrown and resembled a scene from a horror film set in the Australian bush!
No fear, we found a small, silent village and to be on the safe side parked outside the local police station. Although this village also looked like a scene from Shaun of the Dead we put our imaginings down to tiredness, an over active imagination and the fact that on the other side of the road was a graveyard.
We had our dinner, pre-cooked chilli (you have to be prepared), even Trev was impressed, I think he was secretly expecting sausage and beans around a campfire!
After a liberal amount of French wine and several rounds of an obscure (but fun and raucous) board game, we retired to bed. Myself and my husband hopping up the ladder to the over cab bed and pulling the curtains across like something from a Punch and Judy show, whilst Julie and Trev converted the dinette. They were completely mummified in hats, gloves and pyjamas, and it wasn’t even THAT cold, just wait for Germany.
The morning came, and with it people venturing to work completely oblivious to our presence. It always amazes and delights my husband that he can be getting on with showering, shaving and all the while people are wandering around the motorhome, unaware of what he is doing (thank goodness).
With a full English in our tummies we set off to find Germany. We did find it, and the Sat Nav found us our campsite too, in the middle of the beautiful German countryside, by the side of a lake. It was rumoured Elvis had visited here and although it was a bit muddy because of the time of year we could see why it was said it was one of his favourite places. Lake Gedern is a short way from Bad Nauheim and on first viewing did not look much better than the desolate site in Belgium, but it did have electric hook up (bring on the hairdryer) and extra squeaky clean shower and toilet block, albeit a bit of a walk through woodland and undergrowth (queue the Blair Witches!)
We celebrated our arrival with a barbeque before the fella’s went off for a beer in the small German campsite bar. 8 hours later they were still AWOL and Julie and I were beginning to think they had fallen in the lake and their attendance at Lake Gedern would turn into a legend just like the great Mr Presley’s. About 2.30am we bravely put our coats over our pyjamas, pulled on our boots and tramped up the very creepy, very damp and muddy hill to the bar with our torch. We were only going to spy, quietly, covertly and phantom-like through the window, but horror upon horror, just as we were making our retreat after confirming the safety and overall ‘alive-ness’ of our loved ones, two drunken figures with their arms wrapped around each other made their exit from the bar. Forced to run back to our motorhome in walking boots and silky pyjamas with the boy’s torch light illuminating our embarrassed forms, we have yet to live this episode down.
They were silly and drunk in the motorhome that night, behaving like giggly school girls and adorning us with tales of German hospitality, beer fuelled karaoke sessions to Suspicious Minds and the general warblings that drunk people recite.
‘At least you didn’t mention the war’ I said.
‘I did’ said my husband proudly.
After the giggling from the boy’s and the sulking from the girl’s, morning came. With it came the hangovers. They were both very brave though!
That morning we drove to Bad Nauheim to meet Elvis’ photographer (yes, really) and to see the hotel where Elvis stayed whilst in the Army. It’s a lovely place and well worth a visit.
The concert that evening was held in an elegant hotel (Trev loved it)! The concert was amazing, magical and well worth the journey. We all agreed it is moments like this where life is very special and should be enjoyed at every twist and turn. That night we slept in the hotel car park and ate late night curry (pre-cooked, of course).
By this time we were all in the camping spirit, even Trev didn’t mind the chilly nights in his Noel Coward pyjamas or the grit under his bare feet off our outdoor shoes. In fact he even emptied the chemical toilet to prove how he had improved during his time away!
Breakfast was a long, sunny al fresco affair of German meat and boiled eggs washed down with beer and hot chocolate (I was driving).
We didn’t want to come home, not that we were dreading the return journey, we just didn’t want to come home. Admittedly Trevor was looking forward to having a shower that didn’t involve ‘standing in a cupboard’ as he put it, but all in all for two young (ish) couples we were having a ball.
We began the journey home and looked forward to our final night of joviality, playing cards, listening to music, drinking wine and…………..running out of Calor Gas. Yes, it did cause a small fracais. The realisation that the very ‘life blood’ of our motorhome relied on this commodity hit very hard when we had to cook our evening meal in pans wrapped in foil over a throw away barbeque in a motorway service area in Belgium…….in the rain. It was lovely Coq au Vin though, (pre-cooked, of course).
Stopping in Calais and Dunkerque to see the second world war cemeteries and eating moules and frites in a delicious port side restaurant was a great finish to our German adventure.
It was worth the mileage, worth the planning, and worth mustering our adventurous sides. Even, ‘5 star’ Trevor and Julie said it was one of the best holidays they had ever had, so all I can do is recommend it. Try it for yourself!
