The great leap north - Switzerland

Replete with fresh goodies and wine from a nearby Italian supermarket – Italian supermarkets have such fabulous produce - we headed north towards the Alps and our destination for a short stay – the Interlaken area – which we had planned to stop by on the way to Croatia but had been stymied by bad weather. Not this time though, as we set off under blue skies and a hot sun!

We’d opted to drive via the St Gotthard pass first, having read that the views were spectacular, and indeed, as we stopped for lunch over the Swiss border the mountains started to look bigger and more dramatic as we neared the Alps proper. The border crossing was a breeze – oddly without any document checks, and our properly filled in Swiss paperwork to allow us on the roads and motorways was left languishing in its folder.

As we approached the junction where we could have taken the tunnel rather than the mountain pass at St Gotthard, we gulped and wondered whether we had made a wise choice as the Alps loomed larger than life. Also, we seemed to be the only people other than bikers and cyclists heading for the pass. Yes – that’s pushbikes – hardcore road cyclists for sure!

And so we settled into a routine for the next hour or so as we climbed slowly but steadily towards the peak of 2,106 metres, being overtaken by bikers and overtaking cyclists on their amazing ascent (us, at a slightly faster pace in the camper, but not by much!).

The drive was amazing for the continuous series of breathtaking views, as well as the joy of climbing such a switchback route with its sinuous and graceful bends that went out into thin air on a number of occasions, supported by tall and elegant concrete columns.

We paused at the top of the pass to take in the views and the fresh mountain air, before descending and then climbing our next challenge, the Susten pass, higher still at 2,260m. This direct route to Interlaken only opened at the end of WW2, was a quarter of the distance compared to the motorway, but would take as least as long!

The wisdom of taking on two Alpine passes successively was soon called into doubt, as we hit some major roadworks – and the van’s ABS warning light came on as the temperature outside rose to 34 degrees and under the bonnet (where our external weather sensor is) reached 50 degrees… The road works, whilst spread out over a number of kilometres, were soon passed, as our descending traffic seemed to have priority, and as we passed a very, very long queue waiting to go the other way, we were glad that we were leaving the Susten pass behind. The ABS warning light was still on though, and although the brakes had been fine, it was with a huge sigh of relief that we found our campsite (Alpencamping at Meiringen) and turned the engine off.

Arriving in bright sunshine and with stunning mountain views all around, a quick look in the direction we had just come from, showed us that whilst the journey had been a challenge, at least it wasn’t in the storm that was now settling into the higher reaches of the pass…

Luckily, the storm stayed in the mountains and by sunset, the skies had cleared and we awoke next day to a clear sky. What a difference a few hours can make!

We also woke to a strangely warm fridge, and a quick inspection showed us that the fridge was making more ice than is good for it and it had got into a ‘continuous run’ cycle – something we now realise we could have avoided with regular defrosting – a lesson learned! Luckily, the freezer compartment was still frozen, so we stashed the contents of the fridge in our coolbag, put the stuff from the freezer on top and set to an emergency defrost whilst crossing fingers that we wouldn’t have to throw too much of our lovely fresh produce away.

The fridge gods must have been smiling though, as it was soon back to normal after a thorough clean and defrost, and even Mr B’s stash of Croatian ice creams survived! As you can see in the photo below, we went the extra distance in fridge worship as we nursed it back to health, and put up a parasol just to keep its intake vent cooler as the sun blazed down under a clear Alpine sky.

Not minded to head straight off for a third day of driving, we set off to explore the nearby town of Meiringen, home of meringues, and where Mrs B got to meet Sherlock Holmes. The connection with Meiringen is linked to Holmes’ apparent death at the hands of Moriarty at the nearby Reichenbach falls.

Returning to the campsite for our last night before heading off to France, we couldn’t resist a quick dip in what has to be one the quirkiest campsite pools we’ve come across.

As we set off on the free motorway past Interlaken and onwards to France (without the ABS light on, phew – probably a fault on a sensor), we really couldn’t decide what we thought about the ‘Confederation Helvetia’ as a country (we’d always wondered what CH stood for on the number plates!). Its curious amalgam of languages and cantons, stunning scenery, tidiness yet lots of graffiti, the obvious wealth, and no coastline, left us realising that we really were islanders at heart. Surrounded by majestic and at times overpowering mountains we clearly needed a line of sight to a coast not far away!

As we had free run of the motorway network having already paid our HGV fee on entry, we set our sights for an exit into France that would take us close to the German border and into a part of France we’d not visited – Lorraine and Alsace…

S&J.

The great leap north - Italy

Crossing over the Slovenian and then the Italian border without any problems (indeed, without even needing to pause other than for a brief wave of our passports to the border guards) we re-entered the crazy world of Italian motorway driving. Mr B seems to enjoy the Italian way of driving (no hesitation, no prisoners) and before long we were sailing past our first possible stop-off (a return to lake Garda) and working out whether we could make it to lake Como on our way to Switzerland. Recognising that we were also returning at the same time as many Dutch campers, so pressure would be tight on ACSI spaces, we opted for lake Iseo on Mrs B’s suggestion as an interim choice that we’d reach sooner.

We commented on the Italian love for bureaucracy when we headed south – and nothing had changed as we headed home! Directed into a check-in lane by the young man on the gate at camping Del Sole, we were issued with a chit that would allow us to walk the 100 metres to reception – where we were faced by our first problem with the ‘wrong’ ACSI card since Mr B became an honorary Dutchman almost two months ago. Even the provision of the multilingual ‘letter of explanation’ from the campsite that had given our card by mistake to a fellow camper from the Netherlands appeared to cut no ice, with a blank refusal that they couldn’t accept a card in a different name. Luckily, we’d photocopied all our key documents just in case, before we left the UK, and although there was a touch-and-go moment when the reception staff seemed to be insisting that they also wanted a copy of the side of the ACSI card we didn’t have (it’s identical to all card holders – we’d copied just the side with Mr B’s details on figuring that would be enough…) common sense eventually prevailed and we were allowed to look for a pitch from the now standard ‘three that are left for ACSI’.

Choosing one with shade and a view down to the lake we settled in to learn more about lake Iseo and the town of the same name (somewhere neither of us had ever heard of before!).

Realising that we had hit on a very picturesque location with an interesting little town to explore by foot, we decided to stay to stay a couple of nights and relax before the next leg into Switzerland. The lake was great fun to swim in, and as the temperature had stayed in the low 30s, a great place to cool off!

Our walk into town the next day reminded us of the Italian approach to ‘private access’ as what might have been a leisurely lake-side amble, required a few detours up to the main road where private properties – and of course a lido or two – had claimed the foreshore. We liked the way the town had worked around one property where they had built a walkway into the lake, leaving the houseowners with a very low bridge to get their water craft out onto the water!

The town itself was an interesting combination of late mediaeval and more contemporary buildings, including an old warehouse that became a prison in the 1800s, which was in use until 1980, and is now an exhibition centre.

We just caught the end of the town market and stocked up on ingredients for our last night in Italy campsite dinner – one of Mr B’s specials (some might say his only one) a risotto al frutti di mare…

The lake is big enough to support a number of ferries/ pleasure boats and if this fabulous old steam ship had been up and running I suspect we would have been tempted by a trip around the lake. Like lake Garda, this is certainly an area of Italy we’d like to come back to.

Instead of a boat trip, we opted for lunch with a view over the lake, trying out for the first time a ‘piadina’ – a griddled flatbread packed (in our case) with prosciutto, tomato and basil, followed by a Sicilian almond ‘granita’ (posh slush puppy) – yum!

Back at the campsite we settled in for our final night, and as the food and wine were on their last knockings, we were serenaded by a disco that sounded as if it was just next door. Thinking it might be the site’s own disco, but surprised at the volume, we discovered that it was in fact a private lido that was indeed next door, and so we steeled ourselves for a 4.00am finish, like we’d experienced on the way south near Trieste. Luckily for us, peace and tranquillity descended at midnight and we woke bright and early for our next stage of the great leap north – the Interlaken area in Switzerland – with some fun alpine passes en route! Of course, before crossing the Swiss border we’d have to stop at an Italian supermarket for some food and wine…

S&J.

Last days in Croatia...for now!

As we watched the Pelješac peninsula draw further away from our vantage point on the ferry, we got to thinking how we might spin out a few more days in Croatia, rather than make the great leap north just yet. We worked out that if we planned to do the transit from northern Italy to the French coast near Dieppe in 3/4 days rather than the leisurely pace we’d taken on the way down, we could stay a few more days under the Croatian sun.

And so, after a peaceful night at a much busier Zaostrog, where we’d stayed on the way down, we found ourselves heading to Trogir, near Split – somewhere we had missed on our loose itinerary on our way south. 

We opted to stay at Camping Belvedere right on the coast and a few kilometres west of Trogir, as they also ran a water taxi to and from the old town of Trogir, described by some as a ‘mini Dubrovnik’. Belvedere was the first of the big ACSI sites we’d stopped at where there was no restriction on pitches for ACSI card users (usually the pitches right on the sea/with best views etc are off limits). And so, we were able to pick a spot on a steep terrace that was close to the sea, had plenty of shade and gave us a lovely view through the trees to the islands off shore.

Apart from soaking up more sun and swimming in the ridiculously clear sea, we’d come to Trogir to see its famous mediaeval ‘walled city’, set on its own mini island, accessible by bridge. Opting to get the water taxi late in the afternoon so we could stay in Trogir for supper (for once there was a plentiful supply of boats returning late enough to allow this) we set off with great expectations.

Unfortunately, the only comparison with Dubrovnik that was bang on, was in terms of crowd density, delivered in successive waves by tour boats. Being so much smaller as well as less dramatic than Dubrovnik (or even Korćula old town where we’d been just days before) we quickly realised that this was somewhere much better visited off season. Interesting enough for an afternoon mooch, our plans to eat here were scuppered by a combination of uninspiring menus and large boat-borne groups jostling for tables.

So, having given Trogir town our best shot in the circumstances (and avoiding the temptation to ask the Gondolier how much it would cost to get to Venice), we took the ferry back and ate in the campsite restaurant instead – where we enjoyed peace and quiet and decent seafood with a bottle of Pošip, and a lovely view over the bay as the daylight faded. Campsite restaurants have been quite a revelation in Croatia, often with fabulous views and menu offerings on a par with local eateries, and all of them have delivered a pleasurable experience.

We left Camping Belvedere for our exit from Croatia via a final stop in Istria, knowing that we were tempting fate, as our exit coincided with many of the campsites we might have chosen no longer being available on ACSI – and so likely to cost twice as much. Luckily for us, our chosen site near Novigrad had three ACSI places left when we arrived, and all of which had gone by the time we’d set up camp. 

We’d wanted to stop in Istria on our way home, not just because we’d loved it so much on the way down, but as we’d have a chance to track down one of the Croatian culinary specialities we’d yet to savour – barbecued lamb or pig on a spit.

And so, having enjoyed a peaceful night, under the auditory version of a ‘watchful gaze’ of a noise pollution monitor who had a microphone and decibel meter trained on a festival 6km away across the bay to make sure that campers were not disturbed (they do take tourism seriously here!), we set off the next day to scout out possible spit roasted delights.

Novigrad is an interesting little town – described in our Rough Guide as having an authentic charm – which indeed it did. Having wandered around enjoying its physical charms however, we were a little vexed to discover that the meaty treat we thought we might enjoy for dinner was much more a lunch event – and although we could have sampled a serving of left over pig that could still be found in one of the eateries, we decided to add it back to the list of things we would return to Croatia to enjoy, maybe in the cooler weather!

Our last morning in Croatia for this trip saw yet another brilliant blue sky greet us as we packed up and headed off for the Slovenian border, stopping first to stock up on some Hrvatski favourites at the nearby supermarket – but leaving enough space for re-stocking at our next destination – northern Italy!

S&J.

Pleasure on the Pelješac peninsula

As we took in the fabulous views along the coast, back up to the Pelješac peninsula we agreed that although we were now officially heading north and home, albeit it slowly, we would most certainly be back!

There are a few ACSI sites on the peninsula and with rising temperatures (a sizzling 34 degrees) we opted for one that is in the narrow channel between the peninsula and the neighbouring island of Korčula. Famed as one of the best wind and kitesurfing locations in Croatia, we were looking forward to a bit of a breeze to keep us cool.

Camping Nevio near Orebič was a real treat – with plenty of shade and fabulous views across the bay – as well as our first experience ever of an automated chemical toilet-cleaning machine – we never even knew they existed.

Unfortunately, ours is of a vintage persuasion and didn’t fit – so we’re unable to report on the efficacy of such a great invention!

And alas, the famous winds eluded us for most of our stay, but we liked it enough to stay for a week, and there was plenty to keep us occupied between sunbathing and cooling off in the sea. The site was a great base from which to walk to the pretty little port town of Orebič, where, in common with many other Adriatic ports, the shore is peppered with what were once the houses of prosperous sea captains, as well as a fabulous new ‘wine hotel’, Korta Katerina, just nearing completion.

The walk to Orebič was also to scout some eateries, and we returned for a lovely evening meal (an aptly named ‘seafood fantasia’!) at a beachside konoba called Andiamo, attracted partly by its Van Gogh style mural – and the views across the bay, as well as a good selection of non-farmed fish!

Towards the end of the week we caught a ferry across to the nearby town of Korčula, a picturesque mediaeval port on the island of the same name, party as a bit of forward planning for taking the camper over on a future trip.

The walled town is apparently one of the best preserved in the region and we loved the way the Venetians had planned the grid network of streets so that cooling summer breezes could circulate, whilst colder winter ones were blocked and weakened. And as the temperature rose as we wandered round, we found ourselves concentrating on those that allowed the cooling breeze to keep us going.

We’d decided to have lunch as part of our day on the island, and after enjoying seafood with hand-rolled pasta – and our first glass of Pošip – a fabulous white, local to the island, at a spot overlooking the old walls, we explored some of the town outside the old walls. This gave us some splendid views back to the old town – as well as to an enormous catamaran that had just moored up – all the way from Poole and looked after by a team of young, uniformed Croatian staff. We wouldn’t swap the camper though  . . .

We had plenty of time to admire the cat, since we’d not paid enough attention to the ferry timetable (again) and had an hour to kill, dabbling our toes in the clear harbourside waters to keep cool whilst we waited.

We loved our time at Nevio, camping amongst such an international community, with our immediate neighbours coming from Poland, Slovenia, Germany, Swizerland, Holland and Hungary. Looking at the registration plates of holidaymakers in the area, it seemed that just about every country in the EU/EEA (plus Russia and the Ukraine!) liked to visit here.

A special mention here to our lovely Polish campsite neighbours, Darek and Agata and their two kids Zuzia and Janek. With our Polish limited to 'hello', 'goodbye' and 'thankyou' we were lucky that Darek and family spoke such good English and we were able to enjoy a few conversations from the everyday to the political. Leaving the site just before us, Darek very kindly introduced us to the delights of Żoładkowa, a fabulous vodka based liqueur that has become a regular nightcap ever since form the bottle (and shot glass) he kindly gave us as a memento of Polish culture! We very much hope that we will be able to catch up with them, in Poland or the UK, so we can share some UK south coast Fizzy with them!

 

Our final night at Nevio enabled us to experience another of Croatia’s gastronomic delights – a ‘peka’ or ‘under the bell’ as it’s intriguingly translated. Although, as we’d found earlier on the trip, it needs ordering a day ahead, as we were on the campsite and the restaurant that overlooked the bay happened to do them, (and would do them for just two and not four people as we’d previously seen). The view from the restaurant was quite something…

 

What’s not to love about a slow, charcoal baked meat dish when you’ve had a hard day at the beach? When the peka arrived, we could see why they had been advertised elsewhere for four people, as we were facing what must have been at least a kilo of ‘young beef’ on the bone, nestled in a bed of potatoes and veg and oozing olive oil. With a litre of the house red to help us on our way (the same grape that’s used to make the amazing local Dingač that we’d also come to love) we did the Peka pan justice and it went back to the kitchen gleaming. Having learned the Hrvatski for ‘delicious’ just in case (‘izvrsno’ – not the easiest word after a few glasses) our compliments were sent back to the chef – who then popped out to see us to hear it all again – and offer us the pudding menu. Of course, being completely stuffed we couldn’t say no to a dish of hot cherries and ice cream…

Needless to say, the day of our departure saw us leave still full enough to manage a transit north without much need for food! Having driven up the peninsula from the south, (and saving the delights of the vineyards that cling to the hillside and their tasting sessions, the famous oyster beds and eateries in Mali Ston, and the longest fortified wall in Europe at Ston for a subsequent visit to the peninsula) we chose to leave it by ferry in the north.  By early afternoon we were aboard our third and longest Jadrolinja ferry of the trip, from Trapanj to Ploče on the ‘mainland’. Trapanj has to be the prettiest port we have sailed from yet…

With time still on our side, and digestive tracts still working overtime, we decided to make a short day of it and pay a return visit to Zaostrog and the lovely Monika and Katja at Camp Viter…

S&J.