Friday 23 July 2010

Epilogue

We arrived back in Oxford at midnight on Saturday. Our house, which we had let in our absence, was a model of tidiness and cleanliness. This did not last long, for two reasons.

Firstly, because we had let the house in our absence, all our clothes and many belongings were packed away in cupboards. Which had to be emptied.

Secondly, the house contained a large quantity of toys that had been forgotten about for three months, all of which had to be played with in rapid succession. 

And the general air of chaos was about to escalate. 

Laura had resigned her job to do the trip, and there was some uncertainty around my post. That was all OK though, as the trip was funded by Laura's inherited shares. 

Unfortunately, those shares were in BP.

Which left us thinking about ways to increase our household income. 

" Take in some language students" a helpful neighbour, who dabbled in such areas, advised. 

Our mumbled expressions of vague interest set wheels in motion rather more rapidly than we had planned. Later that evening, we were offered two Chinese students for two weeks of bed and board. They arrived in 4 hours. 

So, less than 24 hours after returning, we found ourselves with 2 lodgers.   

Several days later, I have concluded that the exercise is good practice for when my daughters are teenagers. Two girls, who avoid eye contact, say nothing, pick at their food and split all their time in the house between their bedroom and the bathroom.

Coming soon to a blog near you: 1 Male 5 Females 1 Bathroom

Tuesday 20 July 2010

Inventory of missing, lost or destroyed items

1 Bath Towel
2 Soap dishes
1 Set Shampoo and Conditioner (separate)
1 Pint of blood (O+), distributed across mosquito populations of southern Europe
1 Cardigan, blue, size 12
1 Running Board fitted by previous owners to aid child's entry to van
1 Sense of humour, mislaid in Sardinia
1 Beach Towel
1 Magic Wand (not yet missed)
1 pair of knickers, size 3
1 pair of pyjama bottoms, size 3
1 Hairbrush (small)
1 Tiny Baby, beloved toy of Chloe
1 Perky, beloved toy of Maddie, mangled in bicycle chain and magically 'laundered' with the aid of a replacement within the hour
1 Bicycle Rack, distended
1 Pair of sandals, Size 7 child's, stolen by wildlife 
1 Sandal, size 8, adult, partially consumed by wildlife
1 Tyre of small police car
2 Happy children, lost in Corsica
1 Paintjob, driverside
1 Waterbottle
2 Bicycle stabilisers, no longer required
1 Bin (recovered, slightly mauled)
1 Sun, reappeared in Sicily
1 Moulded plastic floor, melted by mosquito coils and hot pans
1 Pair sunglasses
1 Hat
2 Desires to return to any form of working life

Friday 16 July Frankfurt

Officially the last day of the trip, excluding tomorrow's marathon drive back to Oxford.

Random Fact: Now we are at the end of this trip, Chloe has spent 90 of her 774 days on earth in a campervan, or 11.6 % of her life.

Unanswered Questions Of The Trip

- Where, if you are camping in a tiny tent with a smaller car, do you find room for a pair of matching dressing gowns?
- Why do Italians not wear shorts, even in stultifying heat?
- Why do the Slovenians take such architectural care with their electricity sub stations?
- Why do people wear Speedos? Really far too much anatomical clarity when squeezed onto corpulent, wurst based lifeforms.  

Thursday 15 July Frankfurt/Heidleburg

I thought this trip would educate my children, I really did. Then we visited Frankenstein's castle. 'Look', said Maddie, 'a Roman theatre!' The object of her attention was a small series of tiered seats focused on a grassy stage.

Wrong Maddie, on two obvious counts. 

Firstly, the functional nature of most mediaeval castles meant the retention of such period features as a Roman theatre was rare. 

Secondly, almost without exception, the Romans used Roman concrete as their building material not wood.

That child just never listens.   

Things that don't happen at home #9 Since the reduction of my functional footwear collection by 50%, my one remaining, fully enclosed, pair have acquired a strange new aroma. The end result is a dash for the bathroom every time I enter a house which by convention operates a shoe free policy. Which is all of them.

Wednesday 14 July Frankfurt

A very relaxing day in Frankfurt, with bookshops, cafés, playgrounds  and applewine houses filling the morning and early afternoon. 

Back at the house, Chloe's dogged assistance of Dirk's gardening activities reminded me of 3 months of Chloe's second favourite phrase.* 

Invariably delivered with a questioning and hopeful look that could only be answered in the positive, Chloe would ask: "Please may I help you..."

- Water the garden? 
Just give me the water and the time and I will systematically drown all your plants. 

- Fetch the picnic from the car? 
Of course, this just means you'll have to carry a 2 year old as well as the picnic basket and blanket but I'll press the button to open the car for you. 

- Put up the awning?
I'm very good at holding tent pegs and second to none at nipping my fingers on bits I shouldn't be touching. So delaying the task completion while I am comforted.

- Take Maddie to the toilet? 
That way you get to carry me back after I've provided so much distraction in the toilets that you arrive back at the van not sure if Maddie has flushed, washed her hands, or passed solids.  

- Put the bed away? 
I can ineffectually hold the bottom section up while pushing in the wrong direction and getting in the way. 

- Fold the table? 
You might take three times as long to do it, but I am very good at closing the catches at the end.  

- Hang up the laundry? 
I will carefully transfer the wet washing from the bag to the clothes line via the dusty ground

- Wash the dishes? 
I add value, not just by squirting in seven times the required amount of washing liquid, but also with my careful dish rinsing and smearing with the cloth I chew for the duration.

*Her Number 1 favourite phrase is 'NO MADDIE!'   

Tuesday 13 July Frankfurt

A bed. With sheets. In a real bedroom. A bath for the kids. A shave. The wonderful hospitality of Dirk and Andrea. 

This was perhaps the first day of this trip that could be described as eminently civilised. The day dawned with the realisation that we had had our last night in the van this trip.

I was able to put this out of my mind as I breakfasted at a table I didn't have to fold away, after getting out of a bed I didn't have to fold away, on crockery I didn't have to wash up before using bathroom facilities I didn't want to throw up in. 

The lovely town of Seligenstadt. A boat ride down the Maine. A barbeque. German beer. Marvellous.    

Wednesday 14 July 2010

Monday 12 July Upper Savinja Valley, Slovenia To Frankfurt, Germany

Do you run a Motorway Service Station? Then why not turn the adjoining land into a toilet paper strewn open sewer by the simple application of a 70c charge to use the internal, ceramic based, facilities. This is about 70c more than the average trucker, who makes up a substantial portion of your core user group, will pay for the privilege of a bowel movement.

A seven hour drive today, by some distance the longest of the holiday. I would like to formally record my thanks to Disney, Channel 5 Productions and CBeebies. I would also like to acknowledge the myriad geniuses who have revolutionised travel entertainment since 1877 when the first harassed parents bounced along in the back of a carriage with Edison's new wax phonograph disintegrating in their hands amidst the screams of their progeny.  

Parenting tip #5 When choosing headphones for your in car entertainment system, spend the extra required on ones with chinstrap, vice grip and earclamps. To stop your attention seeking 2 year old from pulling the ******* things off and shouting 'I can't do it!!' as soon as she is bored. 

Parenting tip #6. When driving, why not invest in a sturdy fishing net for each child. These multipurpose tools can be used to transfer or remove toys and food from distantly seated children, retrieve critical toys from the floor, and distend one's features should the need arise to engage in armed robbery. Though this would involve someone following you, holding the handle, and applying downward pressure for the duration of the crime.        

Metaphor* Maddie

Maddie has been exploring the English language and its possibilities for articulating her thoughts and feelings in new ways. After some frankly poor efforts on this front, she recently nailed her first proper simile with "I'm as hungry as a giant who hasn't eaten any children". 

Obviously thinking she was on to a winner with this one, later in the day on being asked if she had enjoyed a particular activity she replied  "I'm as happy as a giant who's, er...playing."

Then: 'I'm as angry as a giant who's had no children for breakfast.'   

Then: 'My hunger is as big as two giants.' 

Some further work required on her comparative phrases I feel and perhaps expansion beyond Jack and the Beanstalk inspired analogies.

*Grammar pedants will note that no metaphors are contained in the above, but Simile Maddie lacked the alliterative punch I desired.         

Sunday 11 July Upper Savinja Valley, Slovenia 

It's not been unusual on this holiday to leave a shower feeling dirtier than when one entered but the ballads that were piped into the block this morning truly soiled one's inner peace. 

Much of the rest of the day was spent suppressing Phil Collins, Michael Jackson and Bryan Adams tunes from galloping round my brain, gnawing at my sanity like a school of pirhanas at the carcass of a floating cow.

Fortunately we had the distractions of the Logarska Dolina Valley again which, when one is not visiting lame Fairy Tale lands or being elbowed out of the way because our polite waiting distance for the picnic table was outwith the Slovenian accepted norm, is really rather beautiful.  

Saturday 10 July Upper Savinja Valley, Slovenia 

It's a cliche, but when a child's talent or strength exceeds that of the parent for the first time it provokes feelings of inadequacy. The parent's life and achievements are on a downward trajectory, the child, young and optimistic, looks to the future with confidence. 

Maddie, age 4 and 3 weeks, took her first proper swimming strokes today, and is fast approaching my standard. I imagine, though, that for the foreseeable future I will be able to stand in the 1.5 m end for longer than she can tread water.

Things that don't happen at home #8. Because one's usual abode is firmly attached, via foundations, to the land, one is not usually pursued by one's neighbour shouting 'Shtop, you haven't unplugged your van from the mains!' as one engages the clutch and pulls away.    

Saturday 10 July 2010

Friday 9 July Upper Savinja Valley, Logarska Dolina Valley, Rinka Waterfall

Sensing we were unimpressed with the mountainbike rides featured on the maps or offered as guided tours, the campsite owner introduced us to Philip. He was the camp cook.

In the way that Seagal was 'just the cook' in Under Seige.

For the price of a beer, and a lift to near the summit of Golte, we were promised a downhill experience to remember. On the way up, we established a few facts, and indeed contrasts between respective talent and experience.
 
Number of rounds of one's national downhill championship won in past year: 
Philip: 2
Darren/James: 0

Protective gear worn:
Philip: Spine protector, full facial protecting helmet, knee guards, gloves, armoured bike. 
Darren/James: Er...helmet.     

Time taken to complete the 9 km section about to be attempted
Philip: 8 minutes when training and unencumbered by ponderous companions and gates.
Darren/James: 35 minutes. This, however, included stops to admire the view, open gates and exchange riding tips. My tip to Philip was 'Slow down you mad ******'.

We haven't really subscribed on this trip to 'must see' experiences, skipping merrily past Barcelona, Florence, leaning towers, Ljubljana. However, the Fairytale Forest, with 51 fairytales featured in a compact woodland fell straight into the 'unmissable' category. 

And there was only one fairytale that mattered of course. Never in the field of dressed-up-shop-soiled-mannequins-masquerading-as-Cinderella-in-a-random-wooden-hut-with-motheaten-stuffed-birds has such enchantment sprinkled like stardust at the feet of an enraptured 4 year old. 

Thursday 8 July Upper Savinja Valley

Kids club. What unexpected, unplanned for, purest joy. Maddie and Chloe taken off our hands for a morning of frisbee, drawing and who cares what else. The time was used by their parents fruitfully to lounge around, read, and...er...other important matters I'm sure. 

We did leave the campsite at about 4 pm to give Maddie a bike ride. This lasted for over an hour and she must have been absolutely exhausted at the end because, in addition to pedalling and concentrating, she had to keep up one hour of incessant chatter.

This will stand her in good stead in her future as an accomplished didgeridoo player as she is young to have mastered the art of circular breathing.

Wednesday 7 July  Upper Savinja Valley

Yesterday evening the campsite bar provided, without health warnings, what amounted to home brew. I have little to record of today's activities. I have vague recollections of a bike ride, towing two children through some lovely scenary but this may be hallucinogenic.

But one positive did emerge. Meeting up with James and Louise again has reminded us that other toddlers routinely shout themselves to sleep in the roof of a campervan.  
 
Parenting tip #4 Give your feral children a 'makeover' by showering them. Their hair will turn from brown to blonde, and that 'tan' you thought was coming along nicely is revealed as an emulsion of sunscreen and dirt. 

Tuesday 6 July to Upper Sovinja Valley via the Postojnska caves. 

Things that don't happen at home #7 This morning's slightly startling discovery was that under cover of darkness, an unidentified lifeform had not only sliced perfectly through two of my sandal straps without leaving teethmarks but had also made off with both of Maddie's. Applying Occam's razor, the most likely explanation is that a foot fetishist fox with a flick knife stalks the Plivka Jama valley.

One of Slovenia's biggest draws are the Postojnska caves, with over 30 million visitors in the 188 years of tourist focused activity. As far as I can make out, 29 million of those were clocked up on the midday tour today. The exploiters (sorry, that should read guardians of this unique ecosystem) herd visitors onto trains which whisk the would-be speleologists through the opening 4 km of the caves. A spectacular ride, certainly, but at the terminus you and your fellow hundreds of tourists are quickly split into English, French, Slovenian, German or Italian groups before being marched through a 45 minute trail on concrete paths cut through the labyrinth. 

Fortunately for the endemic species, including spiders, beetles and the slightly obscene looking proteus salamander, their eyes have atrophied through evolutionary preference and they can't see what a great ******* over commercialised mess their more visually sophisticated homo sapien masters have made of their home

Wednesday 7 July 2010

Monday 5 July Around Postojna

101 Uses For a Campervan #10; Portable Hydrogen Sulphide production unit. Simply leave your waste water unemptied for 10 days, then stir vigorously by driving along winding mountain roads. Initial concern that Chloe's nappy has leaked will give way to conviction that farmyard aromas are responsible, then disbelief as the smell of rotting eggs is finally traced to the kitchen unit of your wheeled abode.

Things that don't happen at home #6: Ones toiletry bag does not, as a rule, upend itself into foot washing facilities used by foreign sorts to scrub their sock and sandal clad, corn festooned, yellow nailed feet.

Two castles today, Predjama and Sneznik. The former is a pared down impregnable fortress, partially built into a cliff face with a starkly functional interior including torture chamber and an ingenious water gathering wheeze using the water dripping of stalictites to replenish supplies without external dependencies. The latter is a slightly prissy stately home and was a weekend retreat for German princes before Tito saw sense and nationalised it.

There was a contrast of styles in our children's demeanor as well. Maddie and Chloe marched stoically around the functional fortress of Predjama, but the opulence of Sneznik seemed to bring out the latent indulged princess part of their characters. Or I might be overanalysing it and the Peppa Pig play they were enacting loudly over all four floors of a guided tour was merely a distraction from a tedious non icecream based activity.

Things you wish you hadn't found out about your wife #4: She contributed one purchased unit towards the interminable stay at #1 on the Official UK Charts of Bryan Adams' power ballad dirge (Everything I Do) I Do It For You.

Sunday 4 July Lake Bled to Postojna, south west Slovenia

A day of travel leaves space for me to share some accummulated wisdom in the art of child rearing.

Parenting tip #1: Get your child to walk long distances over rough terrain and climb hundreds of steps without complaint by the application of the simple moniker 'Maddie Mountain Goat.' Said moniker is easily withdrawn, or better, altered to 'Maddie Mountain Whinge' when required and only reinstated when earned.

Parenting tip #2: Get your scaredy cat child to use the part of the climbing frames over the 2 ft mark without complaint by the application of the simple moniker 'SpiderMaddie.' Said moniker is easily withdrawn, or better, altered to 'SpiderWhinge' when required and only reinstated when earned.

Parenting tip #3: Stop your child from making dreadful whinging noises that sound, as a worried neighbour explained, like a baby vomiting. Whenever the noise is heard, use the simple moniker 'Princess Baby Vomit'.

Note, above tips are only likely to work on children for whom praise is a drug and vanity a way of life. None work on the sampled 2 year old who, we suspect, considers them pretty lame. And #3 doesn't work at all. But there is something intrinsically satisfying about it.

Saturday 3 July Lake Bled

Triglav National Park is Slovenia's only national park and the eponymous mountain has a strong hold on the national psyche, with every Slovenian expected to climb it at some point in their lives.

The few farms in the Krma valley section explored this morning were interspersed with picturesque ruined ironworks, restored watermills, all set against 2000m peaks in a pine forest.

All was calm, and birdsong was the only soundtrack to the ride. Until 0854 hours. Then the shrill of a mobile phone ringtone dovetailed perfectly into the shrill tones of aggrieved wifedom. THIS IS YOUR LAST EARLY MORNING RIDE THE KIDS ARE DREADFUL LISTEN CAN YOU HEAR THEM THAT IS CHLOE SCREECHING BECAUSE I WON'T LIFT HER DOWN FROM THE TABLE AND AS FOR MADDIE AND WHICH SHOWER DID YOU LEAVE THE YELLOW TOWEL IN THAT'S THE SECOND TOWEL YOU'VE LOST...

Wife focused mollification was the only strategy left open to this veteran of 14 mountainbike rides so far this trip, and I can record that the rest of the day was a serene journey for Laura. Her lunch arrived on her lap, dinner to her table, and she was afforded a couple of hours treetop adventuring while the kids were entertained by her earthbound husband.

I'm pretty confident I've earned another 14 rides now.

Friday 2 July Lake Bled

We are staying one more night in Bled than we had planned. This has little to do with the beauty of our surrounds, and everything to do with the children next door who have befriended ours and the possibilities for peace that this affords.

And the toboggan run nearby is great fun. For the children. Obviously.

Questions it is difficult to answer without using the word 'sphincter' # 1: Daddy, you see that dog on the page, the one walking away from us? What is that 'X' underneath its tail?

Thursday 1 July Lake Bled, Slovenia

Some years ago we spent 5 or 6 days over New Year in the party deadland that is Klagenfurt, in southern Austria. Billed as a 'Winter Wonderland' by the Ryanair marketing department, the only Wonder was that anyone ever went there.

And the Winteriest part, we discovered yesterday, was the soul of the Klagenfurt railway ticket clerk who sold us tickets to Jesenice.

To break the monotony of Carinthia's permanently Geschlossen capital, we thought a trip over the border to glamorous Slovenia would light up our trip. Jesenice was the first Slovenian town the train stopped in, and knowing nothing of the country, it became our destination of choice. It took over an hour to get there and after twenty minutes of gazing awestruck at derelict factories, abandoned petrol stations and without a single bar or cafe open for business, we caught the train straight back, rather than wait the three hours required until the next one.

Now we discover that ten minutes down the track lies Slovenia's biggest tourist draw, Lake Bled. Overlooked by a fairytale castle, and with a picturesque island within easy rowing reach, there are any number of activities beyond just looking at the view.

One more reason to hate Klagenfurt and its black hearted railway personnel.

I should also like to use this platform to make a statement on behavioural etiquette when close to water.

Just because I have no interest in hurling myself into any body of water that happens to be nearby does not make me abnormal. Resolute landlubbing is not a crime.

Furthermore, no one emerged with any credit from the scene that unfolded on the shores of Lake Bled this afternoon.

1 There is no glory in attempting to push your clothed husband off a slippery raft. Even if you have done all the water centred childcare to date.

2 My pitiful clutching of van keys and wallet was no more than an emergency insurance policy against my involuntary entry into the body of water.

3 There was not much pride either in my convincing of the children that, given my lack of swimming prowess, I would be likely to drown. And no, Maddie did not know why Mummy was attempting such a sordid act. But their combined weight ensured my non-aquatic equanimity was maintained.

Wednesday 30 June to Lake Bled, Slovenia

Attractions Not to Take Your Ever-So-Slightly-Death-Obsessed-And-A-Bit-Sensitive Four Year Old To #1. The Kobarid First World War Museum.

Devices/Concepts That Are Difficult To Explain To Your Ever-So-Slightly-Death-Obsessed-And-A-Bit-Sensitive Four Year Old
#1 A mantrap.
#2 A one ton shell with a range of 13km.
#3 Grenades.
#4 Bayonets.
#5 The wider political landscape that triggered such bloodshed

Tuesday 29 June Kobarid, western Slovenia

Instead of a flashing neon sign stating that the campsite can organise a babysitter, we discovered this most vital of facts following a throwaway remark from the receptionist. So, how would the kids react when, for the first time in two and a half months, both parents left them to go kayaking?

Well, it turned out that the Babysitter, neice of the owner, was really quite a hit. After she left, Chloe professed her love for her, Maddie pretended to be her, and both asked if we could go kayaking again. Ungrateful little gits.

Still, it was worth the blow to the parental ego. The Soca river and valley where we kayaked appear as if they have been designed and manufactured to the specifications of a garish Las Vegan hotel owner. The valley could be a fibreglass cast of a perfect waterway, and the water that cascades through is dyed a vibrantly artificial shade of turquoise.

Since it is all, presumably, entirely natural, the effect is rather wonderful.

As is the effect of 3 hours peace from the children, in the company of one's wife.

Especially as the final score on the dumped-into-the- river-unceremoniously competition was:

Kayak Bronze Medallion holder Laura: 1 (during a fairly mild stretch of white water)
Complete Kayak Beginner Darren: 1 (while repeatedly practising an advanced manoeuvre using techniques learnt minutes before in a dangerously fluctuating eddy)

101 Uses For a Campervan #9. Mobile Library for readers of rubbish novels to come and swap their crap for something altogether more improving from our own collection of clearly superior reading material.