The Petrolhead’s European Roadtrip Report
Discussion
This is the record and diary of the road trip around Europe which took over 6 months to plan. The text is only lightly edited from the blog entries I wrote at the end of each day.
The moment has finally arrived
I'm writing this just before I go to bed on the eve of my departure. Full of nervous excitement and I can't wait to get started - I doubt I'll sleep much tonight. Tomorrow morning I set off in my MX-5, for a 3000 mile car themed adventure around Europe, driving the best roads and visiting the most iconic automotive places in Europe. I'll try and keep this blog updated with my progress. Fingers crossed the car makes it!
Day 1
And so it begins
Up early and left the house at 05:45. With butterflies in my stomach, I begged the car to start and it obliged, coughing into life oblivious to the journey I am about to put it through. Now sitting on the Eurotunnel as I write this. The journey here was fine although I'm wondering if I'll regret my quick wheel wobble fix of moving the dodgy wheel to the back. At sustained motorway speeds it can sometimes feel like sitting on one of those massage beds you see in cheap American motels. Hopefully I'll learn to drive round it or ignore it but for now it's shaking up my nervous bowels which is rather unpleasant.
Hot Pursuit
I got off the train, flung the roof back and dropped the hammer. I was near Reims before midday where I promptly took a wrong turn, followed by two more in quick succession as my sat nav tried desperately to keep up with French autoroute construction and failed miserably. Nothing more frustrating than being told you are driving through a field and to hang a right onto some minor road when all you can see is armco and yet another toll booth for a road you didn't want to be on in the first place!
I'd heard about the old Reims GP track pit buildings and grandstands and wanted to see them, I also guessed it would present a great photo opportunity. As you approach down the arrow straight road, the buildings seem to rise out of the landscape, there's no signs or warning and it's quite an eery experience.
I hung around for a while, getting some photos and saying hello to a few people who turned up for a look including a young couple from Belgium in an old MGB. Sitting on the pit wall eating a snack I could imagine those old 50s cars thundering down the straight, it must have been an incredible sight.
I gave the circuit a fitting tribute with my best impression of a race start out of the pitlane and raced my own way back up the old track to rejoin the motorway. Where I took another wrong turn. It was getting really hot by this point, I think I saw 31 degrees at one point this afternoon and I started to get a bit irritated. After stopping for fuel I decided to tell the sat nav to avoid toll roads, I'd given them enough money and wasn't having much luck so took the back roads out of Reims and hooked up with the original planned route about 10 minutes later.
Cross Country
The D994 to Bar le Duc is like nothing I've ever driven before. It spears straight through the countryside between flat green and yellow fields and today under a picturesque blue sky with a few fluffy white clouds. As I followed its undulating way south I barely saw another car, sometimes it was like having a private road all to myself. The temptation to mash the throttle to the carpet at any point was only overcome by the sheer pleasure of enjoying the journey at a more legal pace.
I passed through sleepy villages with barely a soul in sight before trying to wake them up as I left with a blast of exhaust and a few whooshes and sneezes from the turbo. At one point I stopped in one of these places to get an ice cream from the local boulangerie to try and cool down but everything was shut. Although I did snap this picture on my phone of the car in front of a nice looking church as I stretched my legs.
Rejoining the motorway network after Bar le Duc (which looked horrible) I began the final leg to the place I'd booked a room for the night. At about 4 I was knackered and had to stop at some services, finally getting the ice cream I'd been craving (magnum classic, of course), a bottle of coke and a panini. After a little sit down in the shade to cool off and thus fuelled on sugar and cheese the final two hours passed in a flash.
Actually the last 15 minutes was memorable when I got my first taste of what's to come as I wound up into the hills near St-Marie-aux-Mines through some switch backs and alongside the rock face. Slightly ruined by the Toyota Auris I got stuck behind but enjoyable none the less.
Pulled up at the hotel (www.petit-haut.com) and snapped this picture as the car cooled down. Ate a delicious green salad for dinner, they even wrote the hotel name round the plate in balsamic vinegar (no picture, my phone battery ran out writing the blog) and the first beer went down with ease. I did manage to get the waitress to impersonate farm yard animals to help translate the menu though!
I finished my drink on the terrace watching the sun sink behind the hill, listening to the crickets and evening birdsong. However, I'm 470 miles into the trip and I can already see a problem on the horizon. I think I'm going to want to do this again...
The moment has finally arrived
I'm writing this just before I go to bed on the eve of my departure. Full of nervous excitement and I can't wait to get started - I doubt I'll sleep much tonight. Tomorrow morning I set off in my MX-5, for a 3000 mile car themed adventure around Europe, driving the best roads and visiting the most iconic automotive places in Europe. I'll try and keep this blog updated with my progress. Fingers crossed the car makes it!
Day 1
And so it begins
Up early and left the house at 05:45. With butterflies in my stomach, I begged the car to start and it obliged, coughing into life oblivious to the journey I am about to put it through. Now sitting on the Eurotunnel as I write this. The journey here was fine although I'm wondering if I'll regret my quick wheel wobble fix of moving the dodgy wheel to the back. At sustained motorway speeds it can sometimes feel like sitting on one of those massage beds you see in cheap American motels. Hopefully I'll learn to drive round it or ignore it but for now it's shaking up my nervous bowels which is rather unpleasant.
Hot Pursuit
I got off the train, flung the roof back and dropped the hammer. I was near Reims before midday where I promptly took a wrong turn, followed by two more in quick succession as my sat nav tried desperately to keep up with French autoroute construction and failed miserably. Nothing more frustrating than being told you are driving through a field and to hang a right onto some minor road when all you can see is armco and yet another toll booth for a road you didn't want to be on in the first place!
I'd heard about the old Reims GP track pit buildings and grandstands and wanted to see them, I also guessed it would present a great photo opportunity. As you approach down the arrow straight road, the buildings seem to rise out of the landscape, there's no signs or warning and it's quite an eery experience.
I hung around for a while, getting some photos and saying hello to a few people who turned up for a look including a young couple from Belgium in an old MGB. Sitting on the pit wall eating a snack I could imagine those old 50s cars thundering down the straight, it must have been an incredible sight.
I gave the circuit a fitting tribute with my best impression of a race start out of the pitlane and raced my own way back up the old track to rejoin the motorway. Where I took another wrong turn. It was getting really hot by this point, I think I saw 31 degrees at one point this afternoon and I started to get a bit irritated. After stopping for fuel I decided to tell the sat nav to avoid toll roads, I'd given them enough money and wasn't having much luck so took the back roads out of Reims and hooked up with the original planned route about 10 minutes later.
Cross Country
The D994 to Bar le Duc is like nothing I've ever driven before. It spears straight through the countryside between flat green and yellow fields and today under a picturesque blue sky with a few fluffy white clouds. As I followed its undulating way south I barely saw another car, sometimes it was like having a private road all to myself. The temptation to mash the throttle to the carpet at any point was only overcome by the sheer pleasure of enjoying the journey at a more legal pace.
I passed through sleepy villages with barely a soul in sight before trying to wake them up as I left with a blast of exhaust and a few whooshes and sneezes from the turbo. At one point I stopped in one of these places to get an ice cream from the local boulangerie to try and cool down but everything was shut. Although I did snap this picture on my phone of the car in front of a nice looking church as I stretched my legs.
Rejoining the motorway network after Bar le Duc (which looked horrible) I began the final leg to the place I'd booked a room for the night. At about 4 I was knackered and had to stop at some services, finally getting the ice cream I'd been craving (magnum classic, of course), a bottle of coke and a panini. After a little sit down in the shade to cool off and thus fuelled on sugar and cheese the final two hours passed in a flash.
Actually the last 15 minutes was memorable when I got my first taste of what's to come as I wound up into the hills near St-Marie-aux-Mines through some switch backs and alongside the rock face. Slightly ruined by the Toyota Auris I got stuck behind but enjoyable none the less.
Pulled up at the hotel (www.petit-haut.com) and snapped this picture as the car cooled down. Ate a delicious green salad for dinner, they even wrote the hotel name round the plate in balsamic vinegar (no picture, my phone battery ran out writing the blog) and the first beer went down with ease. I did manage to get the waitress to impersonate farm yard animals to help translate the menu though!
I finished my drink on the terrace watching the sun sink behind the hill, listening to the crickets and evening birdsong. However, I'm 470 miles into the trip and I can already see a problem on the horizon. I think I'm going to want to do this again...
Day 2
Bugatti Galore
Woke up feeling really refreshed and had a lovely breakfast. Left a little bit later than planned but headed back down the hill into town. I had less than half a tank of fuel but the queue at the petrol station was so long I couldn't be bothered. I headed for the Route des Cretes but the fuel situation was nagging me. I took what turned out to be a 25 minute detour in search of fuel but couldn't find any. Decided to push on or I'd not have long at the Sclumpf collection museum in Mulhouse which was the main attraction today. Big mistake. The road was fantastic - fast, flowing corners with some great views down into the valley.
Unfortunately it encouraged me to exercise the right foot and about half way over I started to get properly worried about running out of go juice. Originally I was meant to be going over Grand Ballon but it was closed for a cycle race and that alone might have saved me. I made two, small but fruitless diversions in search of an open petrol station and by the time I reached the first big town where I found one I must have been running on fumes.
Brimmed the tank and made a promise to not let it go below half for the rest of the trip if I can help it. I got to the museum eventually at about 12:30 but boy, it was worth it. The place is incredible and the pictures don't do justice to the scale of the achievement here. I think it's the largest collection of Bugattis in the world but that's not all. Cars right from the start of automobile production in the late 1800s all the way through to French themed 90s F1 cars, Rolls Royce, Bentley, Packard, Ferrari, pre war Alfas, loads you won't even have heard of. Half the time I didn't know what I was looking at unless I read the plaque and I consider myself a car geek. As you can imagine, many of these had a great history and story, were driven or owned by legends from the history books and won prestigious races, rewards or broke records. And the smell in there, old engine oil mixed with century aged leather, I loved it. Plus one of my favourite cars of all time, the Ferrari 250 LM. I might have got a bit school boy excited at that point. I spent over two hours wondering around in awe before setting off on the next leg of the journey.
Cosy in Chamonix
After leaving Mulhouse I was meant to head down through Switzerland and over the Grand St Bernard Pass into Italy but it's been a long, cold winter and the pass isn't open yet. Neither are the Petit St Bernard Pass, the Col de l'Iseran or the Col du Galibier, all of which I was meant to go over on my way to Briancon. Instead, I decided to head to Briancon via Chamonix and Grenoble, as recommended by someone on Pistonheads.
The trip down the motorway through Switzerland was just a quick transit route. All going well I'll be back for the fun stuff in about a week's time. The car seems to get the right kind of attention, today alone I've had a "woop" from some Brit mountain bikers at the top of a chair lift and a friendly toot of the horn with an accompanying peace sign wave from the driver of a modified 200sx that passed me on the motorway. Just as the first snow capped peaks came into view at about 4pm I drove through a rain storm and got some funny looks as the roof was down the whole time. As long as I stay above 40mph I can stay dry and with the roof down I really feel like I'm experiencing the areas I pass through. It's just a shame most of that contact is via truly horrible smells. I'm learning to hold a deep breath every time I see a tractor with something spraying out the back but the worst ones creep up on me unexpected just as I breathe in.
Saw a mk1 Golf race car with wide arches on a trailer and a few modern Ferraris, a big out of town place called Shoppyland made me laugh and I was briefly distracted by signs to w
kdorf. The roads aren't as monotonous as motorways at home, snaking their way across the country with some nice views like the one from the flyover as I skirted Lake Geneva late in the afternoon.
Turned right at Martigny and headed to Chamonix via La Forclaz, got some Gopro footage too. I'm staying at the same campsite that we were in 3 months ago during the ski trip. We had spent a week sampling the local cuisine so I knew just where to head for a value for money, slap up meal. One buffalo burger and stupidly large litre of beer later I came back to type this as my phone charges. I'm basically sitting on my comfy chair in the bathroom, using the the tumble dryer plug socket. People take the mick out of my tiny tent (no innuendo intended) but I'll have to turn in for the night soon. First night camping for over 15 years, wish me luck...
Bugatti Galore
Woke up feeling really refreshed and had a lovely breakfast. Left a little bit later than planned but headed back down the hill into town. I had less than half a tank of fuel but the queue at the petrol station was so long I couldn't be bothered. I headed for the Route des Cretes but the fuel situation was nagging me. I took what turned out to be a 25 minute detour in search of fuel but couldn't find any. Decided to push on or I'd not have long at the Sclumpf collection museum in Mulhouse which was the main attraction today. Big mistake. The road was fantastic - fast, flowing corners with some great views down into the valley.
Unfortunately it encouraged me to exercise the right foot and about half way over I started to get properly worried about running out of go juice. Originally I was meant to be going over Grand Ballon but it was closed for a cycle race and that alone might have saved me. I made two, small but fruitless diversions in search of an open petrol station and by the time I reached the first big town where I found one I must have been running on fumes.
Brimmed the tank and made a promise to not let it go below half for the rest of the trip if I can help it. I got to the museum eventually at about 12:30 but boy, it was worth it. The place is incredible and the pictures don't do justice to the scale of the achievement here. I think it's the largest collection of Bugattis in the world but that's not all. Cars right from the start of automobile production in the late 1800s all the way through to French themed 90s F1 cars, Rolls Royce, Bentley, Packard, Ferrari, pre war Alfas, loads you won't even have heard of. Half the time I didn't know what I was looking at unless I read the plaque and I consider myself a car geek. As you can imagine, many of these had a great history and story, were driven or owned by legends from the history books and won prestigious races, rewards or broke records. And the smell in there, old engine oil mixed with century aged leather, I loved it. Plus one of my favourite cars of all time, the Ferrari 250 LM. I might have got a bit school boy excited at that point. I spent over two hours wondering around in awe before setting off on the next leg of the journey.
Cosy in Chamonix
After leaving Mulhouse I was meant to head down through Switzerland and over the Grand St Bernard Pass into Italy but it's been a long, cold winter and the pass isn't open yet. Neither are the Petit St Bernard Pass, the Col de l'Iseran or the Col du Galibier, all of which I was meant to go over on my way to Briancon. Instead, I decided to head to Briancon via Chamonix and Grenoble, as recommended by someone on Pistonheads.
The trip down the motorway through Switzerland was just a quick transit route. All going well I'll be back for the fun stuff in about a week's time. The car seems to get the right kind of attention, today alone I've had a "woop" from some Brit mountain bikers at the top of a chair lift and a friendly toot of the horn with an accompanying peace sign wave from the driver of a modified 200sx that passed me on the motorway. Just as the first snow capped peaks came into view at about 4pm I drove through a rain storm and got some funny looks as the roof was down the whole time. As long as I stay above 40mph I can stay dry and with the roof down I really feel like I'm experiencing the areas I pass through. It's just a shame most of that contact is via truly horrible smells. I'm learning to hold a deep breath every time I see a tractor with something spraying out the back but the worst ones creep up on me unexpected just as I breathe in.
Saw a mk1 Golf race car with wide arches on a trailer and a few modern Ferraris, a big out of town place called Shoppyland made me laugh and I was briefly distracted by signs to w
kdorf. The roads aren't as monotonous as motorways at home, snaking their way across the country with some nice views like the one from the flyover as I skirted Lake Geneva late in the afternoon.Turned right at Martigny and headed to Chamonix via La Forclaz, got some Gopro footage too. I'm staying at the same campsite that we were in 3 months ago during the ski trip. We had spent a week sampling the local cuisine so I knew just where to head for a value for money, slap up meal. One buffalo burger and stupidly large litre of beer later I came back to type this as my phone charges. I'm basically sitting on my comfy chair in the bathroom, using the the tumble dryer plug socket. People take the mick out of my tiny tent (no innuendo intended) but I'll have to turn in for the night soon. First night camping for over 15 years, wish me luck...
Day 3
Rain
Most of my memories from the last 24 hours involve rain. Dreary, misty, torrential, drizzly, I've seen it all. It rained almost all night and I lay in the tent this morning until it stopped just long enough for me to shower, walk to and from the bakery and pack up the tent. After breakfast I said goodbye to the climbers from Bournemouth that I met last night (the two guys had spent over 2 hours philosophically arguing about the existence of God) and drove into Chamonix to try find a phone charger for the car. I couldn't find one anywhere so I started the drive. I wanted to get to Briancon today so I'd be back on track tomorrow. There was a diversion and for the first time, in trying to re-route me the sat nav did something useful and took me right past a massive hypermarket. I dashed inside before they closed and bought the charger I needed, now I don't have to worry about charging the phone each night..
I only had about 3 or 4 hours to Briancon so I could take it easy, stop as often as I liked and still find a campsite when I got to my destination. What followed was a great bit of twisty road through a rocky valley, past Megeve/Flumet/Ugine to Albertville. It wasn't high speed but I had a lot of fun. After a blast down the motorway to Grenoble, through the rain, I turned off towards Briancon, a quick fuel and waste disposal stop before heading into the mountains again over Col de Lauteret, a route which road signs warned me was very dangereux. Challenge accepted.
Of course it rained, it rained so much that at one point I thought I'd have to give up my aim of completing the whole trip with the roof down on just day 3. Man logic kicked in, I'd get more wet stopping to put the roof up so I might as well keep going. My plan was to pull over once I cleared the storm, somewhere with a nice view that I could eat lunch. It kept raining so I kept driving. Obviously at quite a reduced pace, even the tunnels were slippery as I discovered in the middle of a long straight one while I enjoyed the sound my car was making!
It got to about 2:30, I was ready to give up when I got stuck behind a campervan convoy just as a layby with a good view emerged so I pulled over. Up went the roof and out came my sandwich (now rather warm and melted, I shan't put it next to the transmission tunnel again). I sat eating lunch and watched the mist and clouds roll through the valley around me. By the time I was finished the rain had stopped. Feeling victorious I put the roof back down and enjoyed the road which dried out really quickly.
In Briancon I followed signs to a campsite (the longest 1.5km ever, about 3km according to the odometer) and pitched camp. Sitting here with the tent on one side, my car on the other and a beer in my hand I had one of those moments when you realise just how lucky you are. Bliss.
P.S. It's much colder here than in Chamonix, at only 7pm I'm thinking about getting into bed so I can stay warm!
Rain
Most of my memories from the last 24 hours involve rain. Dreary, misty, torrential, drizzly, I've seen it all. It rained almost all night and I lay in the tent this morning until it stopped just long enough for me to shower, walk to and from the bakery and pack up the tent. After breakfast I said goodbye to the climbers from Bournemouth that I met last night (the two guys had spent over 2 hours philosophically arguing about the existence of God) and drove into Chamonix to try find a phone charger for the car. I couldn't find one anywhere so I started the drive. I wanted to get to Briancon today so I'd be back on track tomorrow. There was a diversion and for the first time, in trying to re-route me the sat nav did something useful and took me right past a massive hypermarket. I dashed inside before they closed and bought the charger I needed, now I don't have to worry about charging the phone each night..
I only had about 3 or 4 hours to Briancon so I could take it easy, stop as often as I liked and still find a campsite when I got to my destination. What followed was a great bit of twisty road through a rocky valley, past Megeve/Flumet/Ugine to Albertville. It wasn't high speed but I had a lot of fun. After a blast down the motorway to Grenoble, through the rain, I turned off towards Briancon, a quick fuel and waste disposal stop before heading into the mountains again over Col de Lauteret, a route which road signs warned me was very dangereux. Challenge accepted.
Of course it rained, it rained so much that at one point I thought I'd have to give up my aim of completing the whole trip with the roof down on just day 3. Man logic kicked in, I'd get more wet stopping to put the roof up so I might as well keep going. My plan was to pull over once I cleared the storm, somewhere with a nice view that I could eat lunch. It kept raining so I kept driving. Obviously at quite a reduced pace, even the tunnels were slippery as I discovered in the middle of a long straight one while I enjoyed the sound my car was making!
It got to about 2:30, I was ready to give up when I got stuck behind a campervan convoy just as a layby with a good view emerged so I pulled over. Up went the roof and out came my sandwich (now rather warm and melted, I shan't put it next to the transmission tunnel again). I sat eating lunch and watched the mist and clouds roll through the valley around me. By the time I was finished the rain had stopped. Feeling victorious I put the roof back down and enjoyed the road which dried out really quickly.
In Briancon I followed signs to a campsite (the longest 1.5km ever, about 3km according to the odometer) and pitched camp. Sitting here with the tent on one side, my car on the other and a beer in my hand I had one of those moments when you realise just how lucky you are. Bliss.
P.S. It's much colder here than in Chamonix, at only 7pm I'm thinking about getting into bed so I can stay warm!
Day 4
Thou shall not pass
I'm not sure where to start today, I feel zombie levels of tiredness which isn't helping. It was really cold last night, just above 0 when I checked on the phone at one point so I had a lie in until I'd warmed up. The campsite toilets were pretty grim so I went to McDonald's for breakfast and to use the facilities.
Back on the Route des Grandes Alpes I started going over Col d’Izoard. That was the most spectacular road so far, starting down in a green valley and climbing for mile after twisty mile, most of it 3rd and 4th gear apart from the switchbacks which needed a drop to 2nd, sometimes with a heavy right foot on the exit of course. I stopped to take a shot at one point but just before I could get the camera out a masked up BMW coupe hybrid prototype whizzed past and scurried off up the hill.
As I climbed higher the grass morphed into snow and I found myself in a completely different type of landscape, it's still winter up there! After stopping for lunch and grabbing a photo from the picnic table I went over the Col du Vars and through Barcelonette. Next was Col de la Cayolle and that's where it all went wrong.
The road was blocked for roadworks, the detour I worked out with the atlas over Col de Allos was so crazy, so stupid and so long that after 45 minutes of telling me to turn round, Cathy sat nav gave up completely. I think there's some gopro footage of me arguing with her - travelling alone, what you gonna do?!
I survived, though at points I felt really uncomfortable but sure it was the only reasonable alternative I carried on. It set me back massively and I determined to start to find a campsite at 4pm, wherever I was. At 5pm I escaped from what looked like gypsy caravan hell, sure I could do better I turned towards Guillaumes. This road carved into the cliff edge of a valley including 8 tunnels in quick succession. I was in a hurry, at one point sensing my urgency a Ford Kuga dived out the way to let me pass. The road was epic, the car was outstanding and riding a wave of turbo torque out of each corner, I huffed and chuffed my way up that 20km. I think it'll be etched in my memory forever.
1.5 hours later, following campsite signs up one side of a mountain, down the other and back to where I began I gave up and booked a room for the night in Valberg, back up the road I'd just come down. It's a ghost town, a dead ski resort out of season. I fancied pizza and the one restaurant open in town is a pizzeria.
You win some, you lose some.
Thou shall not pass
I'm not sure where to start today, I feel zombie levels of tiredness which isn't helping. It was really cold last night, just above 0 when I checked on the phone at one point so I had a lie in until I'd warmed up. The campsite toilets were pretty grim so I went to McDonald's for breakfast and to use the facilities.
Back on the Route des Grandes Alpes I started going over Col d’Izoard. That was the most spectacular road so far, starting down in a green valley and climbing for mile after twisty mile, most of it 3rd and 4th gear apart from the switchbacks which needed a drop to 2nd, sometimes with a heavy right foot on the exit of course. I stopped to take a shot at one point but just before I could get the camera out a masked up BMW coupe hybrid prototype whizzed past and scurried off up the hill.
As I climbed higher the grass morphed into snow and I found myself in a completely different type of landscape, it's still winter up there! After stopping for lunch and grabbing a photo from the picnic table I went over the Col du Vars and through Barcelonette. Next was Col de la Cayolle and that's where it all went wrong.
The road was blocked for roadworks, the detour I worked out with the atlas over Col de Allos was so crazy, so stupid and so long that after 45 minutes of telling me to turn round, Cathy sat nav gave up completely. I think there's some gopro footage of me arguing with her - travelling alone, what you gonna do?!
I survived, though at points I felt really uncomfortable but sure it was the only reasonable alternative I carried on. It set me back massively and I determined to start to find a campsite at 4pm, wherever I was. At 5pm I escaped from what looked like gypsy caravan hell, sure I could do better I turned towards Guillaumes. This road carved into the cliff edge of a valley including 8 tunnels in quick succession. I was in a hurry, at one point sensing my urgency a Ford Kuga dived out the way to let me pass. The road was epic, the car was outstanding and riding a wave of turbo torque out of each corner, I huffed and chuffed my way up that 20km. I think it'll be etched in my memory forever.
1.5 hours later, following campsite signs up one side of a mountain, down the other and back to where I began I gave up and booked a room for the night in Valberg, back up the road I'd just come down. It's a ghost town, a dead ski resort out of season. I fancied pizza and the one restaurant open in town is a pizzeria.
You win some, you lose some.
Day 5
Coast to the Coast
Another day on the road started as normal with the struggle to squeeze everything back in the car. Cathy Satnav was woken up and given her orders, cameras turned on and in place ready, suncream applied, first gear engaged and off I went. Drive on the right or you'll have a big fright I remind myself each time.
Within minutes I was heading over Col de la Couillole. One thing that struck me today was that on this Route des Grandes Alpes I'm following, even the roads linking the mountain passes are fantastic. It's just non-stop, jaw dropping sequences of corners with pretty towns (I don't have enough pictures of these, after a while they all look the same though) and stunning views. Some of them, clinging to the mountainside, must feel very remote and cut off in the depths of winter.
I took time to explore the Ouvrage Rimplas bunkers, a large artillery and heavy weapons fortification in a prominent defensive position above the Tinée and Valdeblore valleys. Couldn't get inside but great views.
Now, almost within sight of the sea I went up the north side to col de Turini, had lunch at the top and coasted sedately down the south side. The latter is used in the opposite direction as a stage in the world rally championship. I stopped a few times to soak up the history and imagine what it must have been like to slide 500bhp group B cars up the unforgiving lane on snow and ice. In places you can find reminders of the battles fought here, like the name of the national hero and legend "Loeb" daubed on the wall of one of the hairpins in blue paint.
At the point of writing this blog entry I've covered about 1170 miles over 5 days. I'm a bit drained, the roads require nothing less than your constant full attention so I'm looking forward to my day off tomorrow exploring Monaco. My home for the night is a campsite on the hill above Menton with views out to the sea, campsite cat and plenty of insects to keep me company. I'll just pray it's not only the bed bugs that won't bite.
Coast to the Coast
Another day on the road started as normal with the struggle to squeeze everything back in the car. Cathy Satnav was woken up and given her orders, cameras turned on and in place ready, suncream applied, first gear engaged and off I went. Drive on the right or you'll have a big fright I remind myself each time.
Within minutes I was heading over Col de la Couillole. One thing that struck me today was that on this Route des Grandes Alpes I'm following, even the roads linking the mountain passes are fantastic. It's just non-stop, jaw dropping sequences of corners with pretty towns (I don't have enough pictures of these, after a while they all look the same though) and stunning views. Some of them, clinging to the mountainside, must feel very remote and cut off in the depths of winter.
I took time to explore the Ouvrage Rimplas bunkers, a large artillery and heavy weapons fortification in a prominent defensive position above the Tinée and Valdeblore valleys. Couldn't get inside but great views.
Now, almost within sight of the sea I went up the north side to col de Turini, had lunch at the top and coasted sedately down the south side. The latter is used in the opposite direction as a stage in the world rally championship. I stopped a few times to soak up the history and imagine what it must have been like to slide 500bhp group B cars up the unforgiving lane on snow and ice. In places you can find reminders of the battles fought here, like the name of the national hero and legend "Loeb" daubed on the wall of one of the hairpins in blue paint.
At the point of writing this blog entry I've covered about 1170 miles over 5 days. I'm a bit drained, the roads require nothing less than your constant full attention so I'm looking forward to my day off tomorrow exploring Monaco. My home for the night is a campsite on the hill above Menton with views out to the sea, campsite cat and plenty of insects to keep me company. I'll just pray it's not only the bed bugs that won't bite.
Day 6
It's Monaco Baby!
Today was a day I got to cross another item off my own personal bucket list. I drove round the Monaco F1 track. I also ate an Ainsley Harriott instant lentil dahl cooked in a mess tin. It's really swings and roundabouts with a trip like this!
Anyway, I drove to Monte Carlo and on my way in, twisting through complicated junctions and one way systems I wondered why on earth hadn't I programmed the route of the track into Cathy? I got lost, followed intuition and a sense of direction (head for the water) and really by complete fluke joined the 'track' right on the start finish straight. The schoolboy in me was reignited again and I'm not ashamed to say I let out a little yelp of excitement.
For 11 months of the year this is just a pretty city but the clues to its alter ego are there if you look. Red and white rumble strips denoting the apex and exits of corners, painted grid starting lines lines on the road and as I was there, they were still finishing clearing up from the grand prix two weeks ago so dotted around were piles of armco and tyre barriers.
Using a knowledge of the track layout gained only from TV and computer games I still managed to find my way up the hill, through casino square, down round the most famous hairpin in motor racing, into the tunnel, past tabac and the swimming pool before turning hard right past rascass to rejoin the straight again. It was absolutely brilliant fun, I've got to admit to taking full advantage of riding the kerbs on the apex of corners wherever I could too! In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I did it straight away again. I don't think my 8 minute average laptime will get me a test drive any time soon, but breaking out the excuses rulebook, I was constrained by speed limits and traffic! The biggest surprise for me was discovering that the entire pit building construction is completely temporary, there was no sign of it at all.
After parking up I took a walk, snapping photos at every opportunity and generally explored. The place just stinks of money, you can't help see a pretty lady walking along with some designer label shopping bags and wonder how many millions she's got in the bank. Some lovely supercars too, obviously at the casino where everyone gathers just to gawp at them but every time you cross the road there's a Rolls, Bentley, Ferrari, Maserati or Porsche waiting to pass.
I walked up to the palace and snapped this shot overlooking the city and harbour.
Back to the campsite again and in the peace and quiet it was a totally different world. Campsite cat welcomed me back while I summoned the strength to walk down into town again. I counted the steps today, just over 300! Bed now, Italy tomorrow.
It's Monaco Baby!
Today was a day I got to cross another item off my own personal bucket list. I drove round the Monaco F1 track. I also ate an Ainsley Harriott instant lentil dahl cooked in a mess tin. It's really swings and roundabouts with a trip like this!
Anyway, I drove to Monte Carlo and on my way in, twisting through complicated junctions and one way systems I wondered why on earth hadn't I programmed the route of the track into Cathy? I got lost, followed intuition and a sense of direction (head for the water) and really by complete fluke joined the 'track' right on the start finish straight. The schoolboy in me was reignited again and I'm not ashamed to say I let out a little yelp of excitement.
For 11 months of the year this is just a pretty city but the clues to its alter ego are there if you look. Red and white rumble strips denoting the apex and exits of corners, painted grid starting lines lines on the road and as I was there, they were still finishing clearing up from the grand prix two weeks ago so dotted around were piles of armco and tyre barriers.
Using a knowledge of the track layout gained only from TV and computer games I still managed to find my way up the hill, through casino square, down round the most famous hairpin in motor racing, into the tunnel, past tabac and the swimming pool before turning hard right past rascass to rejoin the straight again. It was absolutely brilliant fun, I've got to admit to taking full advantage of riding the kerbs on the apex of corners wherever I could too! In fact, I enjoyed it so much, I did it straight away again. I don't think my 8 minute average laptime will get me a test drive any time soon, but breaking out the excuses rulebook, I was constrained by speed limits and traffic! The biggest surprise for me was discovering that the entire pit building construction is completely temporary, there was no sign of it at all.
After parking up I took a walk, snapping photos at every opportunity and generally explored. The place just stinks of money, you can't help see a pretty lady walking along with some designer label shopping bags and wonder how many millions she's got in the bank. Some lovely supercars too, obviously at the casino where everyone gathers just to gawp at them but every time you cross the road there's a Rolls, Bentley, Ferrari, Maserati or Porsche waiting to pass.
I walked up to the palace and snapped this shot overlooking the city and harbour.
Back to the campsite again and in the peace and quiet it was a totally different world. Campsite cat welcomed me back while I summoned the strength to walk down into town again. I counted the steps today, just over 300! Bed now, Italy tomorrow.
Day 7
Motorways and Monza
A bit of a mixed bag today. A late start due to sleeping badly, (some nasty insect bites from a couple of days ago are so itchy it kept me awake last night) meant I wasn't ready to leave the campsite until about 10.30.
First and only stop of the day was the Autodromo Nazionale Monza, the historic circuit in a large park on the edge of the city. I'd mistakenly put the back straight of the track as my destination, obviously not a public road so Cathy freaked out until I manually replaced the destination with the correct access road instead. Only I'd forgotten it was a 3.5 hour drive to get there.
Originally I was going to visit on my way to Lake Como on Saturday afternoon, it made more sense in terms of the route but there is some kind of event there this weekend so I had to go today instead. For 5 euros they let me in and it seemed I was free to explore as much as I liked within the boundaries of any locked gates. Checked out the view from the start line grandstands then went in search of what remains of the original track, the old banking.
Past the Ascari chicane I headed towards the centre of the area defined within the new circuit layout and found it with ease. It's so steep I physically couldn't climb all the way to the top, my shoes were not grippy enough! Perched high up on the banking I enjoyed the sunshine and the peace and quiet (it's a lovely park in its own right, lots of locals out getting fresh air and exercise) before taking the long way round back to the car.
Long drive to the hotel in Maranello was made longer by roadworks causing a tailback more than 10 miles long of stop start traffic. Even at 7pm it was sweltering, think I got a bit red despite my best efforts to strategically hop from the shadow of one lorry to the next. That car, with a difficult clutch and no air con was not the place to be. While I was stuck in the queue for over an hour and a half it really made me think. After flying around empty alpine passes for the past 4 days it had me crashing back down to earth. This unfortunately is more likely the future of motoring we'll be used to, sitting staring at the number plates of cars in front while sucking down their exhaust fumes. I'm glad I've seen the alternative before it's not too late.
It was 9pm when I finally pulled up at the hotel, dehydrated and hungry. Plus, my phone overheated in sympathy and now only works when plugged in so I'll need to try find a new battery tomorrow morning!
Motorways and Monza
A bit of a mixed bag today. A late start due to sleeping badly, (some nasty insect bites from a couple of days ago are so itchy it kept me awake last night) meant I wasn't ready to leave the campsite until about 10.30.
First and only stop of the day was the Autodromo Nazionale Monza, the historic circuit in a large park on the edge of the city. I'd mistakenly put the back straight of the track as my destination, obviously not a public road so Cathy freaked out until I manually replaced the destination with the correct access road instead. Only I'd forgotten it was a 3.5 hour drive to get there.
Originally I was going to visit on my way to Lake Como on Saturday afternoon, it made more sense in terms of the route but there is some kind of event there this weekend so I had to go today instead. For 5 euros they let me in and it seemed I was free to explore as much as I liked within the boundaries of any locked gates. Checked out the view from the start line grandstands then went in search of what remains of the original track, the old banking.
Past the Ascari chicane I headed towards the centre of the area defined within the new circuit layout and found it with ease. It's so steep I physically couldn't climb all the way to the top, my shoes were not grippy enough! Perched high up on the banking I enjoyed the sunshine and the peace and quiet (it's a lovely park in its own right, lots of locals out getting fresh air and exercise) before taking the long way round back to the car.
Long drive to the hotel in Maranello was made longer by roadworks causing a tailback more than 10 miles long of stop start traffic. Even at 7pm it was sweltering, think I got a bit red despite my best efforts to strategically hop from the shadow of one lorry to the next. That car, with a difficult clutch and no air con was not the place to be. While I was stuck in the queue for over an hour and a half it really made me think. After flying around empty alpine passes for the past 4 days it had me crashing back down to earth. This unfortunately is more likely the future of motoring we'll be used to, sitting staring at the number plates of cars in front while sucking down their exhaust fumes. I'm glad I've seen the alternative before it's not too late.
It was 9pm when I finally pulled up at the hotel, dehydrated and hungry. Plus, my phone overheated in sympathy and now only works when plugged in so I'll need to try find a new battery tomorrow morning!
Day 8
The birth of a supercar
If any region can lay claim to the birthplace of the supercar surely the area surrounding Modena is it. Home to Ferrari, Lamborghini and more recently Pagani, I am determined to do what any self respecting car mad tourist would and visit each of them over the next couple of days. Today was Lamborghini and Pagani.
I did dash into Modena first thing to try find a replacement phone battery or failing that, a cheap PAYG phone for emergencies but had no luck, the phone is now useless unless mains powered.
Modena looked like a really nice place though, it's a shame I didn't have more time to explore.
Unfortunately, despite trying to book a couple of months in advance there was no space for me on the Lambo factory tour so I went to the adjoining museum instead. It's part of a big modern looking building and with an all glass front wall it makes an excellent showcase for the 25 or so cars that are on display.
Among these are some F1 cars, one off prototype designs or concepts and some lovely examples of early 60s and 70s production models.
It was fascinating to see the lineage of the brand all the way through to the modern day Reventon and soak up all the details that make the brand synonymous with outrageous supercar design.
I had a few hours to kill but it's been another scorchio day here, less than 5 minutes in the car have me soaked through with sweat so I drove into Sant Agata village, found a shaded cafe in a park and had some lunch.
Next was a Pagani factory tour, something I've been looking forward to for months. I looked around the small showroom while waiting for the other visitors to arrive for the tour, got chatting to a lad on holiday from Dubai who shared a real love for the exquisite attention to detail Horatio Pagani puts into his cars.
I can't go into anywhere near enough detail of the tour here to do it justice but suffice to say I've no doubt it'll be one of the top things I'll do and see on this whole trip. Mr Pagani was even there and said hello to me! Quick summary:
- Shown the carbon composites department and the process of creating the carbon fibre components of the cars, incl handling the carbon fibre in its various stages through the life cycle.
- Shown some v. rare customer cars that were in for work/storage
- Assembly process in the new factory building incl what I think is my first look at a Huayra in the metal
- Talking to a father/son from Sweden who had travelled down in their new Ferrari F12 participating in track days in it on the way.
In other news my credit card got stuck in a self service petrol station machine earlier and I was only saved by a kind Italian man in a van who didn't speak a word of English but was able to extricate it with some tweezers he had. Another relaxed day planned for tomorrow, I feel I should be nicely recharged for the second half of the trip.
Some photos of the hotel:
The birth of a supercar
If any region can lay claim to the birthplace of the supercar surely the area surrounding Modena is it. Home to Ferrari, Lamborghini and more recently Pagani, I am determined to do what any self respecting car mad tourist would and visit each of them over the next couple of days. Today was Lamborghini and Pagani.
I did dash into Modena first thing to try find a replacement phone battery or failing that, a cheap PAYG phone for emergencies but had no luck, the phone is now useless unless mains powered.
Modena looked like a really nice place though, it's a shame I didn't have more time to explore.
Unfortunately, despite trying to book a couple of months in advance there was no space for me on the Lambo factory tour so I went to the adjoining museum instead. It's part of a big modern looking building and with an all glass front wall it makes an excellent showcase for the 25 or so cars that are on display.
Among these are some F1 cars, one off prototype designs or concepts and some lovely examples of early 60s and 70s production models.
It was fascinating to see the lineage of the brand all the way through to the modern day Reventon and soak up all the details that make the brand synonymous with outrageous supercar design.
I had a few hours to kill but it's been another scorchio day here, less than 5 minutes in the car have me soaked through with sweat so I drove into Sant Agata village, found a shaded cafe in a park and had some lunch.
Next was a Pagani factory tour, something I've been looking forward to for months. I looked around the small showroom while waiting for the other visitors to arrive for the tour, got chatting to a lad on holiday from Dubai who shared a real love for the exquisite attention to detail Horatio Pagani puts into his cars.
I can't go into anywhere near enough detail of the tour here to do it justice but suffice to say I've no doubt it'll be one of the top things I'll do and see on this whole trip. Mr Pagani was even there and said hello to me! Quick summary:
- Shown the carbon composites department and the process of creating the carbon fibre components of the cars, incl handling the carbon fibre in its various stages through the life cycle.
- Shown some v. rare customer cars that were in for work/storage
- Assembly process in the new factory building incl what I think is my first look at a Huayra in the metal
- Talking to a father/son from Sweden who had travelled down in their new Ferrari F12 participating in track days in it on the way.
In other news my credit card got stuck in a self service petrol station machine earlier and I was only saved by a kind Italian man in a van who didn't speak a word of English but was able to extricate it with some tweezers he had. Another relaxed day planned for tomorrow, I feel I should be nicely recharged for the second half of the trip.
Some photos of the hotel:
Day 9
Itsa Ferrari!
Blog is late, sorry all those kept waiting and wondering but I was camping on the shore of Lake Como last night and due to my phone effectively now being a landline, no power = no phone = no blog.
After checking out of the Maranello Village hotel I went to the official Ferrari museum, just over the road behind the factory. My favourite bits were the old 60s cars and the F1 exhibition, including one of Mansell's 1989 cars, at 5 years old that's the car I remember watching on Sunday afternoons and pulling me into the world of motor racing. I came to realise two things about my opinion of Ferrari, especially formed in the light of my Pagani visit the day before. I love the old cars, don't really like anything they made after the F40 and as a brand now it seems just too commercial, too mainstream these days. Especially considering they produce something like 4000 to 6000 cars a year compared to the exclusivity of Pagani's 20 (that will double with the move to their new factory). However, having said all that I did find myself getting caught up in the passion and excitement of the Ferrari brand, to own one must still be such a special experience.
I also drove back into Modena to the Museo Casa Ferrari, based on the site of the home Enzo grew up in. It provided a good insight into his life and how he grew Ferrari from a small racing team into the giant it is today. At points, it touched on the personal attributes which made him so infamous although I thought it might have been explored further I guess it would be difficult to do so with a positive angle. There was a decent sized exhibition here too, of a variety of grand prix cars and other artifacts from the last 80 years. I loved seeing all the old driver's helmets, how cool it must be to own one of these which were worn by Ascari or Graham Hill during their careers. I know that's quite geeky but I wanted one!
The day ended with the long, hot slog back up the motorway, past Monza and onto Lake Como for the night in a campsite on the shore of the lake. A thoroughly hateful bit of the journey, made almost intolerable by the heat. After 30 seconds in the car I would be sweating. Two minutes later and the seat would already be soaked and there was no respite for the three hours the journey took.
Itsa Ferrari!
Blog is late, sorry all those kept waiting and wondering but I was camping on the shore of Lake Como last night and due to my phone effectively now being a landline, no power = no phone = no blog.
After checking out of the Maranello Village hotel I went to the official Ferrari museum, just over the road behind the factory. My favourite bits were the old 60s cars and the F1 exhibition, including one of Mansell's 1989 cars, at 5 years old that's the car I remember watching on Sunday afternoons and pulling me into the world of motor racing. I came to realise two things about my opinion of Ferrari, especially formed in the light of my Pagani visit the day before. I love the old cars, don't really like anything they made after the F40 and as a brand now it seems just too commercial, too mainstream these days. Especially considering they produce something like 4000 to 6000 cars a year compared to the exclusivity of Pagani's 20 (that will double with the move to their new factory). However, having said all that I did find myself getting caught up in the passion and excitement of the Ferrari brand, to own one must still be such a special experience.
I also drove back into Modena to the Museo Casa Ferrari, based on the site of the home Enzo grew up in. It provided a good insight into his life and how he grew Ferrari from a small racing team into the giant it is today. At points, it touched on the personal attributes which made him so infamous although I thought it might have been explored further I guess it would be difficult to do so with a positive angle. There was a decent sized exhibition here too, of a variety of grand prix cars and other artifacts from the last 80 years. I loved seeing all the old driver's helmets, how cool it must be to own one of these which were worn by Ascari or Graham Hill during their careers. I know that's quite geeky but I wanted one!
The day ended with the long, hot slog back up the motorway, past Monza and onto Lake Como for the night in a campsite on the shore of the lake. A thoroughly hateful bit of the journey, made almost intolerable by the heat. After 30 seconds in the car I would be sweating. Two minutes later and the seat would already be soaked and there was no respite for the three hours the journey took.
Day 10
Goodbye Italy,
Hello Switzerland!
I'd always planned an early start for today so I could get up and over the Stelvio pass before it got busy. That was scuppered the moment some Italians asked me to join them for food at the campsite last night. Ended up a right international hoo hah until about 2am, Italians, Germans, an Austrian, loads of stereotypical behaviour from all involved!
That aside I'm glad to see the back of Italy, leaving in style over the Stelvio at around midday. I'm really glad I went and saw the things I did but from a driving perspective it's been really unpleasant. Too hot, ahole Italian drivers, inexcusably poorly built and maintained roads, and at best, terrible and vague, but at its worst, non existent sign posting (e.g. big road closures with no diversions) made me long for the order and dull monotony of the UK road network.
The Stelvio was ok, another tick off the list but rubbish in comparison to other passes driven so far this trip. I had low expectations anyway so wasn't disappointed. The temperature dropped a little as I got back into the mountains but not as much as I'd like.
I headed towards Chur, my bed for the night in a hostel, over the Ofenpass and Fluelapass. Both were exhilarating and worth the effort to include, the views were breathtaking and the roads flowed and turned through the mountains so that it actually felt graceful to drive.
A little unsure what I'll do tomorrow though, road closures are back to haunt me again so an alternative route will need to be found. A shame because the Andermatt loop, as it's known, is made of legendary stuff and promised some of the best driving and views of the trip.
Goodbye Italy,
Hello Switzerland!
I'd always planned an early start for today so I could get up and over the Stelvio pass before it got busy. That was scuppered the moment some Italians asked me to join them for food at the campsite last night. Ended up a right international hoo hah until about 2am, Italians, Germans, an Austrian, loads of stereotypical behaviour from all involved!
That aside I'm glad to see the back of Italy, leaving in style over the Stelvio at around midday. I'm really glad I went and saw the things I did but from a driving perspective it's been really unpleasant. Too hot, a
hole Italian drivers, inexcusably poorly built and maintained roads, and at best, terrible and vague, but at its worst, non existent sign posting (e.g. big road closures with no diversions) made me long for the order and dull monotony of the UK road network. The Stelvio was ok, another tick off the list but rubbish in comparison to other passes driven so far this trip. I had low expectations anyway so wasn't disappointed. The temperature dropped a little as I got back into the mountains but not as much as I'd like.
I headed towards Chur, my bed for the night in a hostel, over the Ofenpass and Fluelapass. Both were exhilarating and worth the effort to include, the views were breathtaking and the roads flowed and turned through the mountains so that it actually felt graceful to drive.
A little unsure what I'll do tomorrow though, road closures are back to haunt me again so an alternative route will need to be found. A shame because the Andermatt loop, as it's known, is made of legendary stuff and promised some of the best driving and views of the trip.
Day 11
A sad day
So, the hostel was fine, shared an 18 bed dorm with just two Japanese lads who were studying architecture. Today I set out on an attempt to drive about five well known passes, until a couple of days ago at least three of which were still closed. I made it over all but the last, the Sustenpass which was closed about halfway, having taken a risk just in case it was open anyway, I drove back down again and headed to the campsite here on the lake at Lucern.
The rest of the day went as planned, more fabulous driving interspersed with plenty of stops to admire the view. Right now, with the alps behind me and 5 days of motorway drudgery stretching out ahead I'm already starting to feel a profound sense of loss. Arching around the edges of mountains, often without another car in sight, you feel so free. This is what sports cars are made for.
When you get into a rhythm, chasing the throttle out of every hairpin, perfectly blipped heel and toe downshifts slotting neatly into place and accompanied by the odd pop and bang from the exhaust reverberating off the rock face, nothing else exists in that moment except the ribbon of tarmac and the car, weight shifting around beneath you.
Oh alps, I'll miss you dearly!
A sad day
So, the hostel was fine, shared an 18 bed dorm with just two Japanese lads who were studying architecture. Today I set out on an attempt to drive about five well known passes, until a couple of days ago at least three of which were still closed. I made it over all but the last, the Sustenpass which was closed about halfway, having taken a risk just in case it was open anyway, I drove back down again and headed to the campsite here on the lake at Lucern.
The rest of the day went as planned, more fabulous driving interspersed with plenty of stops to admire the view. Right now, with the alps behind me and 5 days of motorway drudgery stretching out ahead I'm already starting to feel a profound sense of loss. Arching around the edges of mountains, often without another car in sight, you feel so free. This is what sports cars are made for.
When you get into a rhythm, chasing the throttle out of every hairpin, perfectly blipped heel and toe downshifts slotting neatly into place and accompanied by the odd pop and bang from the exhaust reverberating off the rock face, nothing else exists in that moment except the ribbon of tarmac and the car, weight shifting around beneath you.
Oh alps, I'll miss you dearly!
Day 12
Melting in Munich
I had left the campsite by 8:30 this morning. Talking to some other brits and fellow MX-5 owners last night they had recommended I pay a visit to a waterfall about 1.5 hours drive north of Lucern. I thought about it for ages, could I realistically fit it in to my plans today? In the end I decided yes, but I'd be in a hurry and any traffic delay could ruin the day so I left it for the next visit.
Straight to Munich then, four hours of motorway driving through another day of sweaty, blazing heat. At one point on the autobahn I decided I'd try to VMax the car and the next 30 seconds almost gave me a heart attack. Pedal to the metal and the car started pulling from the 80mph cruising speed through 100 and beyond. At just over 100 the needle went into uncharted territory, now I just had the GPS verified speed from Cathy to call out the numbers. At 120 the car felt all light, but fully loaded, roof down, full tank of fuel and vibrating for Britain it was still pulling hard through 6500rpm in 5th. With traffic fast approaching ahead, as I overtook a Touran that had blasted by me only moments before, I bottled it and lifted my foot gingerly from the throttle. Pulling into the right lane again I took my first breath and realised my heart was almost pounding straight through my chest. I've been faster in this car before but that was on a track, without other cars or armco quite so nearby. I won't be doing it again in a hurry, whose stupid idea was that anyway...
So BMW museum, full of... Shall we say... BMW drivers.
Very interesting but very German, and by that I mean clinical, factual. None of the passion that exuded from the likes of the Ferrari museum although so proud of their company and cars it was verging on boastful the entire time. I sat in a few current models including the Z4 which felt like a grown up MX-5. Less luggage space with the roof folded down though! Interesting section about production during the war with forced labourers, clearly a dark chapter in the company's history.
After checking into the hostel I took a walk in the city. Heading to the big park, English Garden, I strolled by sunbathers, surfers and slack rope walkers. Looked like everyone under 30 was out enjoying the weather. Tomorrow I'm back on the road to Stuttgart but for now, some cheap hostel beer.
Melting in Munich
I had left the campsite by 8:30 this morning. Talking to some other brits and fellow MX-5 owners last night they had recommended I pay a visit to a waterfall about 1.5 hours drive north of Lucern. I thought about it for ages, could I realistically fit it in to my plans today? In the end I decided yes, but I'd be in a hurry and any traffic delay could ruin the day so I left it for the next visit.
Straight to Munich then, four hours of motorway driving through another day of sweaty, blazing heat. At one point on the autobahn I decided I'd try to VMax the car and the next 30 seconds almost gave me a heart attack. Pedal to the metal and the car started pulling from the 80mph cruising speed through 100 and beyond. At just over 100 the needle went into uncharted territory, now I just had the GPS verified speed from Cathy to call out the numbers. At 120 the car felt all light, but fully loaded, roof down, full tank of fuel and vibrating for Britain it was still pulling hard through 6500rpm in 5th. With traffic fast approaching ahead, as I overtook a Touran that had blasted by me only moments before, I bottled it and lifted my foot gingerly from the throttle. Pulling into the right lane again I took my first breath and realised my heart was almost pounding straight through my chest. I've been faster in this car before but that was on a track, without other cars or armco quite so nearby. I won't be doing it again in a hurry, whose stupid idea was that anyway...
So BMW museum, full of... Shall we say... BMW drivers.
Very interesting but very German, and by that I mean clinical, factual. None of the passion that exuded from the likes of the Ferrari museum although so proud of their company and cars it was verging on boastful the entire time. I sat in a few current models including the Z4 which felt like a grown up MX-5. Less luggage space with the roof folded down though! Interesting section about production during the war with forced labourers, clearly a dark chapter in the company's history.
After checking into the hostel I took a walk in the city. Heading to the big park, English Garden, I strolled by sunbathers, surfers and slack rope walkers. Looked like everyone under 30 was out enjoying the weather. Tomorrow I'm back on the road to Stuttgart but for now, some cheap hostel beer.
Day 13
Sweltering in Stuttgart
So, another day, another city, this time Stuttgart. Disgusting as it is, I want to try and explain how uncomfortable the heat is, three changes of clothes a day isn't fun in anyone's book. It's been hotter than most summers I spent in Croatia and I've had no cooling Adriatic to jump into! No one mentioned this side of a road trip so I was totally unprepared.
Anyway, the drive from Munich to Stuttgart was dispatched with the usual German Autobahn efficiency this morning and by 11:30 I was within the cooling embrace of the Porsche museum.
At the moment they've got a fantastic exhibition celebrating 50 years of the 911. It documents the Porsche story from the beginnings of Ferdinand's career through to the evolution of the 356 into the 911, the development of the successful Le Mans cars and various other impacts they had on the automobile industry. Never a massive Porsche fan before I walked away with a whole new respect and understanding of the company.
A 15 minute drive across town and I was standing in front of the Mercedes museum. This should be a template for other car museums to follow. In its attempt to describe the origins of Mercedes Benz it essentially tells the story of the car, from the first internal combustion engine powered vehicle through to the modern day strive for safety and economy via the troubles and recoveries of a nation racked by two world wars and the associated cultural and social upheaval.
Absolutely flooding with interesting information you could easily spend all day here and still not have heard and seen everything. Mesmerising and awe inspiring, and the kindly ticket lady also admitted me on a half price student ticket completely unprompted so I certainly felt like I got value for money!
After finding the hostel and a side street parking space I took a walk in the search for dinner and stumbled across a lovely bar/cafe where I gobbled down a delicious burger, potatoes and salad and ice cream, probably the best thing I've eaten in over a week.
Sweltering in Stuttgart
So, another day, another city, this time Stuttgart. Disgusting as it is, I want to try and explain how uncomfortable the heat is, three changes of clothes a day isn't fun in anyone's book. It's been hotter than most summers I spent in Croatia and I've had no cooling Adriatic to jump into! No one mentioned this side of a road trip so I was totally unprepared.
Anyway, the drive from Munich to Stuttgart was dispatched with the usual German Autobahn efficiency this morning and by 11:30 I was within the cooling embrace of the Porsche museum.
At the moment they've got a fantastic exhibition celebrating 50 years of the 911. It documents the Porsche story from the beginnings of Ferdinand's career through to the evolution of the 356 into the 911, the development of the successful Le Mans cars and various other impacts they had on the automobile industry. Never a massive Porsche fan before I walked away with a whole new respect and understanding of the company.
A 15 minute drive across town and I was standing in front of the Mercedes museum. This should be a template for other car museums to follow. In its attempt to describe the origins of Mercedes Benz it essentially tells the story of the car, from the first internal combustion engine powered vehicle through to the modern day strive for safety and economy via the troubles and recoveries of a nation racked by two world wars and the associated cultural and social upheaval.
Absolutely flooding with interesting information you could easily spend all day here and still not have heard and seen everything. Mesmerising and awe inspiring, and the kindly ticket lady also admitted me on a half price student ticket completely unprompted so I certainly felt like I got value for money!
After finding the hostel and a side street parking space I took a walk in the search for dinner and stumbled across a lovely bar/cafe where I gobbled down a delicious burger, potatoes and salad and ice cream, probably the best thing I've eaten in over a week.
Day 14
Traversing the Tupolev
What a busy day, although it's got to be the best day I've had on the entire trip. I left Stuttgart at about 9, driving up the autobahn to the Sinsheim Auto & Technik museum. This place is brilliant, completely barmy and rammed full of an eclectic collection of seemingly miscellaneous objects. One second I was drooling over a jaguar d-type, I'd turn around and there'd be an entire wall cabinet of various chainsaws. There's also a large collection of military gear, tanks, guns, cars, motorbikes, push bikes, trains, steam engines, clothing and uniforms, planes.
Ah yes, the planes. This was the best bit for me. Up on the roof are mounted a Concorde and the Russian equivalent, the Tupolev TU-144. You can climb a spiral staircase and get right inside, it's amazing to be able to compare the two machines back to back and up close like this. What a place, I spent several hours wandering the halls before heading back to the car. Where Cathy refused to turn on.
Resorting to the road atlas and some blinding guess work I made a quick pitstop at the Hockenheimring racetrack to get some photos from the grandstand but there was nothing happening on track so I pointed the nose of the car to the northwest and headed to the last stop of this whirlwind tour.
Nurburg Nirvana
Right, the Nurburgring. This place just oozes cars and motorsport. It's dripping out of every pore, it's the life blood of the local economy and you are reminded of it at every turn. Whether it's the pictures and signed letters from F1 teams booking rooms, hung on the wall of the hotels in the village or the frequent buzz of an engine at full throttle hammering down Döttinger Höhe, there's no denying that if you like cars this place is like petrolhead mecca.
I've been before but never in my own car or been round the Nordschleife in anything but abject terror from the passenger seat of another car.
Today I set about righting those wrongs and pop my Nordschleife cherry. I turned up at the Burgstube at about 4pm, after a quick freshen up and tending to the first bit of sunburn picked up in the whole trip I sat down at the bar with a cold glass of coke where I met Roger and Max.
They'd also just arrived and like me were mentally preparing themselves for their first ever laps of the track Jackie Stewart once called the green hell. I've got to admit, I was bricking it. It's been a long time since I've been that nervous about driving my car on a track but as we know, this is no ordinary track. Heading down to the car park for the evening touristenfahrten session I bought my tickets, strapped in and promised myself to take it easy. By 3/4 of the way round the infamous circuit, let's call it 10 miles in, I was beginning to enjoy the roller coaster of a ride. Three of the most incredible laps of my life later and I was back in the bar with Roger, a cold beer in hand, celebrating our conquest and survival in the time honoured tradition.
We all went out, joined by Andrew (an Australian staying at the Burgstube who had been driving over the Alpine passes too), Martin and Heidi took us to a great Italian restaurant and we swapped stories and tales of adventure until the early hours.
Waking up today to the sound of high revving engines, instantly you know why petrolheads love this place and I know I'll find my way back here yet again. Still, I've got another day here, it's raining now but I'll head out and make the most of it anyway.
Traversing the Tupolev
What a busy day, although it's got to be the best day I've had on the entire trip. I left Stuttgart at about 9, driving up the autobahn to the Sinsheim Auto & Technik museum. This place is brilliant, completely barmy and rammed full of an eclectic collection of seemingly miscellaneous objects. One second I was drooling over a jaguar d-type, I'd turn around and there'd be an entire wall cabinet of various chainsaws. There's also a large collection of military gear, tanks, guns, cars, motorbikes, push bikes, trains, steam engines, clothing and uniforms, planes.
Ah yes, the planes. This was the best bit for me. Up on the roof are mounted a Concorde and the Russian equivalent, the Tupolev TU-144. You can climb a spiral staircase and get right inside, it's amazing to be able to compare the two machines back to back and up close like this. What a place, I spent several hours wandering the halls before heading back to the car. Where Cathy refused to turn on.
Resorting to the road atlas and some blinding guess work I made a quick pitstop at the Hockenheimring racetrack to get some photos from the grandstand but there was nothing happening on track so I pointed the nose of the car to the northwest and headed to the last stop of this whirlwind tour.
Nurburg Nirvana
Right, the Nurburgring. This place just oozes cars and motorsport. It's dripping out of every pore, it's the life blood of the local economy and you are reminded of it at every turn. Whether it's the pictures and signed letters from F1 teams booking rooms, hung on the wall of the hotels in the village or the frequent buzz of an engine at full throttle hammering down Döttinger Höhe, there's no denying that if you like cars this place is like petrolhead mecca.
I've been before but never in my own car or been round the Nordschleife in anything but abject terror from the passenger seat of another car.
Today I set about righting those wrongs and pop my Nordschleife cherry. I turned up at the Burgstube at about 4pm, after a quick freshen up and tending to the first bit of sunburn picked up in the whole trip I sat down at the bar with a cold glass of coke where I met Roger and Max.
They'd also just arrived and like me were mentally preparing themselves for their first ever laps of the track Jackie Stewart once called the green hell. I've got to admit, I was bricking it. It's been a long time since I've been that nervous about driving my car on a track but as we know, this is no ordinary track. Heading down to the car park for the evening touristenfahrten session I bought my tickets, strapped in and promised myself to take it easy. By 3/4 of the way round the infamous circuit, let's call it 10 miles in, I was beginning to enjoy the roller coaster of a ride. Three of the most incredible laps of my life later and I was back in the bar with Roger, a cold beer in hand, celebrating our conquest and survival in the time honoured tradition.
We all went out, joined by Andrew (an Australian staying at the Burgstube who had been driving over the Alpine passes too), Martin and Heidi took us to a great Italian restaurant and we swapped stories and tales of adventure until the early hours.
Waking up today to the sound of high revving engines, instantly you know why petrolheads love this place and I know I'll find my way back here yet again. Still, I've got another day here, it's raining now but I'll head out and make the most of it anyway.
Day 15
The last day
Tomorrow I'll pack the car one last time, hitch up the skirt and motor my way back home. Today was very relaxing, actually it was the first day in the whole trip I didn't have anything planned to do! After a long, leisurely breakfast with the other hotel guests we each said goodbye and headed our separate ways. After doing a bit of souvenir shopping (including the obligatory badge of honour for the car) I climbed to the top of the Nurburg castle tower and admired the view. In the distance I could make out the source of the race car engines that had been audible all morning, some activity on the GP circuit.
After descending back to the car I headed for the car park at Brunchen. There had been some industry pool testing in the morning but this was now finished so I walked around the edge of the track 2km to the Karussell, taking photos on the way. Having walked back (the hill up to Wipperman is steep, tough work on foot) I was just in time for the VLN race practice. I watched until the end, moving around to different spots, finding some good photo locations and marvelling at the level of commitment the drivers were showing through the tricky and fast sections.
Back to the bar for dinner (weiner schnitzel) and some delicious beer to end the day while talking cars. I can't think of a better way to have ended this trip. One more day and I'll be back, surrounded by all the familiar trappings of my everyday life. Only now, I've got the memories of this epic journey to join them.
The last day
Tomorrow I'll pack the car one last time, hitch up the skirt and motor my way back home. Today was very relaxing, actually it was the first day in the whole trip I didn't have anything planned to do! After a long, leisurely breakfast with the other hotel guests we each said goodbye and headed our separate ways. After doing a bit of souvenir shopping (including the obligatory badge of honour for the car) I climbed to the top of the Nurburg castle tower and admired the view. In the distance I could make out the source of the race car engines that had been audible all morning, some activity on the GP circuit.
After descending back to the car I headed for the car park at Brunchen. There had been some industry pool testing in the morning but this was now finished so I walked around the edge of the track 2km to the Karussell, taking photos on the way. Having walked back (the hill up to Wipperman is steep, tough work on foot) I was just in time for the VLN race practice. I watched until the end, moving around to different spots, finding some good photo locations and marvelling at the level of commitment the drivers were showing through the tricky and fast sections.
Back to the bar for dinner (weiner schnitzel) and some delicious beer to end the day while talking cars. I can't think of a better way to have ended this trip. One more day and I'll be back, surrounded by all the familiar trappings of my everyday life. Only now, I've got the memories of this epic journey to join them.
Day 16
Drama in Deutschland
The trip and activities completed, all that was left was to pack the car and drive home, only the car had other ideas. Used to stretching out on the open road clearly the thought of spending 95% of the time in the garage again wasn't attractive. Heading down to breakfast I took a few bags to the car on the way. What happened next was something I'd been carefully trying to avoid for the entire trip. The passenger door central locking motor hasn't worked for a few years but I always lock the rest of the car with the alarm fob anyway. I unlocked the passenger door manually to load up and forgot to disarm the alarm, it promptly went off and woke up anyone nearby fortunate enough to still be sleeping.
At this point, in a desperate panic to silence the car, I forgot that I had only turned the siren off, not disarmed the alarm fully. I put the bags in the passenger side, manually locked the door from the interior lock and walked around to get something out the drivers door, which had automatically re-locked itself with the alarm. Patting my pockets frantically it dawned on me. I had locked my keys in the car.
With all my tools in the locked car, it was lucky I chose this point of the trip to be an idiot. Martin was able to help me break into my own car without causing any damage so after breakfast I said goodbye, filled the last remaining space in the car with some crates of cheap German beer and hit the road.
Cathy was dead so road atlas and road signs were deployed again. After about an hour I turned onto the motorway. Twenty-five minutes later, seeing a sign for Koblenz I realised I was driving south instead of north! One wrong turn had now added at least an extra hour to the journey. With no satnav I had no idea if I was still going to make it to Calais in time for the train so I hammered back up the motorway through a huge rainstorm. The car started to get buffeted heavily by the wind but it felt strange. Glancing over at the air/fuel ratio gauge I was startled to see it swinging wildly all over the place. The car was actually misfiring badly. I nursed it through the storm and into a parking layby where I started to wonder what I'd do with no working phone to call for help.
I prodded and waited, eventually restarting the engine, crossing my fingers and everything was fine. I think perhaps one of the fuel injector connectors had come loose or maybe got wet through the rainstorm, causing the misfire. Now I had a mad dash across Germany, Belgium and France. I made it to the EuroTunnel terminal with about 20 minutes to spare.
Rolling onto the driveway at home over 8 hours after I left Nurburg I smiled. I'd done it, the car had made it and that actually surprised me but apart from today's short tantrum it'd been a perfect travelling companion. Absolutely filthy, it deserves a good wash and another service but I know I wouldn't hesitate to turn that key again and head off to the continent, to hear the turbo spool and exhaust echo off the rock faces of the alpine valleys once more.
Drama in Deutschland
The trip and activities completed, all that was left was to pack the car and drive home, only the car had other ideas. Used to stretching out on the open road clearly the thought of spending 95% of the time in the garage again wasn't attractive. Heading down to breakfast I took a few bags to the car on the way. What happened next was something I'd been carefully trying to avoid for the entire trip. The passenger door central locking motor hasn't worked for a few years but I always lock the rest of the car with the alarm fob anyway. I unlocked the passenger door manually to load up and forgot to disarm the alarm, it promptly went off and woke up anyone nearby fortunate enough to still be sleeping.
At this point, in a desperate panic to silence the car, I forgot that I had only turned the siren off, not disarmed the alarm fully. I put the bags in the passenger side, manually locked the door from the interior lock and walked around to get something out the drivers door, which had automatically re-locked itself with the alarm. Patting my pockets frantically it dawned on me. I had locked my keys in the car.
With all my tools in the locked car, it was lucky I chose this point of the trip to be an idiot. Martin was able to help me break into my own car without causing any damage so after breakfast I said goodbye, filled the last remaining space in the car with some crates of cheap German beer and hit the road.
Cathy was dead so road atlas and road signs were deployed again. After about an hour I turned onto the motorway. Twenty-five minutes later, seeing a sign for Koblenz I realised I was driving south instead of north! One wrong turn had now added at least an extra hour to the journey. With no satnav I had no idea if I was still going to make it to Calais in time for the train so I hammered back up the motorway through a huge rainstorm. The car started to get buffeted heavily by the wind but it felt strange. Glancing over at the air/fuel ratio gauge I was startled to see it swinging wildly all over the place. The car was actually misfiring badly. I nursed it through the storm and into a parking layby where I started to wonder what I'd do with no working phone to call for help.
I prodded and waited, eventually restarting the engine, crossing my fingers and everything was fine. I think perhaps one of the fuel injector connectors had come loose or maybe got wet through the rainstorm, causing the misfire. Now I had a mad dash across Germany, Belgium and France. I made it to the EuroTunnel terminal with about 20 minutes to spare.
Rolling onto the driveway at home over 8 hours after I left Nurburg I smiled. I'd done it, the car had made it and that actually surprised me but apart from today's short tantrum it'd been a perfect travelling companion. Absolutely filthy, it deserves a good wash and another service but I know I wouldn't hesitate to turn that key again and head off to the continent, to hear the turbo spool and exhaust echo off the rock faces of the alpine valleys once more.
Two Weeks Later
Looking Back
Two weeks later and I'm still picking through the remains of my adventure. After I returned I drove the car into the garage and put it out of my mind while I tried to settle back into work and a routine again. It took me a full week before I knew where I was when I woke up in the mornings. Every day I'd wake and think I was still abroad, in a hostel or hotel somewhere and be wondering why the bedroom door was open, wouldn't someone walk past and see me?! Spending almost every night for two weeks in a new place had taken its toll on my state of mind.
A week later I pulled the car out and realised I wasn't the only one who had suffered. Every single day when I was away the engine burst into life without so much as a grumble but clearly this poor motor was not happy about returning to a normal life of sitting around for 90% of the time as it spluttered and misfired until settling into an unsteady idle. Now overdue an MOT, I took it to a trusted mechanic and as I write this I haven't seen the car since - I can't wait to have it back!
Here's a summary of the trip in numbers:
Miles driven: 3251
Cost of tolls (including Swiss vignette): £86
Money spent on petrol: £789
Race tracks visited: 5
Car related museums explored: 9
Countries driven through: 7
Number of times I caught the front splitter on a high kerb while parking: 3
Highest altitude: 2757m
Nights spent camping: 6
Fastest speed in mph: 120
Naked old men seen: 4
Books read: 2.5
Highest engine oil temperature (degrees Celsius): 98
Hottest day (degrees Celsius): 36
Average miles driven per day: 203
Electronic technology failures: 2
Photos taken: 1328 (after editing)
Looking Back
Two weeks later and I'm still picking through the remains of my adventure. After I returned I drove the car into the garage and put it out of my mind while I tried to settle back into work and a routine again. It took me a full week before I knew where I was when I woke up in the mornings. Every day I'd wake and think I was still abroad, in a hostel or hotel somewhere and be wondering why the bedroom door was open, wouldn't someone walk past and see me?! Spending almost every night for two weeks in a new place had taken its toll on my state of mind.
A week later I pulled the car out and realised I wasn't the only one who had suffered. Every single day when I was away the engine burst into life without so much as a grumble but clearly this poor motor was not happy about returning to a normal life of sitting around for 90% of the time as it spluttered and misfired until settling into an unsteady idle. Now overdue an MOT, I took it to a trusted mechanic and as I write this I haven't seen the car since - I can't wait to have it back!
Here's a summary of the trip in numbers:
Miles driven: 3251
Cost of tolls (including Swiss vignette): £86
Money spent on petrol: £789
Race tracks visited: 5
Car related museums explored: 9
Countries driven through: 7
Number of times I caught the front splitter on a high kerb while parking: 3
Highest altitude: 2757m
Nights spent camping: 6
Fastest speed in mph: 120
Naked old men seen: 4
Books read: 2.5
Highest engine oil temperature (degrees Celsius): 98
Hottest day (degrees Celsius): 36
Average miles driven per day: 203
Electronic technology failures: 2
Photos taken: 1328 (after editing)
Thanks, it was brilliant. If you are thinking about doing it, stop thinking and just do it!
There were times when it would have been great to be there with friends but having to do it on my own in the end wasn't such a bad thing. I could stop when I wanted, for as long or as short a time as I liked and never had to worry about what someone else thought, needed or wanted to do. For example, if I had to push on through lunch some days to make the next destination then I just went hungry and it didn't matter.
There were times when it would have been great to be there with friends but having to do it on my own in the end wasn't such a bad thing. I could stop when I wanted, for as long or as short a time as I liked and never had to worry about what someone else thought, needed or wanted to do. For example, if I had to push on through lunch some days to make the next destination then I just went hungry and it didn't matter.
Gassing Station | Roads | Top of Page | What's New | My Stuff