Viking Country

Well a few of us managed to stay up until the end of the football. Alas the breast feeding restaurant was shut so we made do with Robins tv at the van. Robin joined us for the first half, snoring loudly. Like having Darth Vader in amongst us. We packed him off to bed at half time. 

I was on loan to Team Mobile Brothel for the day as we had a slightly concerning 418 mile trip ahead of us. I breathalysed myself. Clear ! I think I had been too tired to drink much beer the previous night.

Northern Germany, if I'm going to be honest, on the whole is a little dull. Well, if you stick to the Autobahns it is. We found ourselves in Neumunster for lunch. The Pratt nav found us a pretty little restaurant. Ok, it found us a pizza and kebab shop in a housing estate. We were joined by teams 7 and 8. 

Our inferno pizza arrived and I shared it out and started eating. Marc burst in to tears. I couldn't work out what was wrong with him, the pizza seemed fine..... Then it hit me like a brick wrapped in stinging nettles. Jesus, that was evil. I snivelled my way to the toilets with my nose leaking like Jezebel's sump. 

Back at the table, Clare was being the guinea pig to work out which part of the pizza topping was the offending one. She found it eventually. Her skin changed colour, her face crumpled and she spoke like she had just had some root canal work. 

50km from the Danish border, Marc spotted two uniforms in an unmarked BMW. Apparently they pulled out on to the road as soon as we had gone past. The Feds were on our tail. Marc tried his best to be anonymous, to blend in with the local traffic. In a luminous pink 30 year old van, it's an art. Somehow the uniforms tracked us down and we were pulled over in a service area. They spoke English, that was a relief. They asked some difficult questions though. "Where are you going ?". Marc and Clare didn't really know. I knew, but couldn't tell them as it's a secret. 

"Two beds. There are three of you ?"  Oh God...that's a tough one to explain in pidgin English. I nearly told him that I intended to sleep with my son in a different van but stopped myself as I didn't want to sound like a pervert. 

The two customs officers (as we had now discovered) checked around the interior of the Brothel. They tactfully didn't mention the blacked out curtains, the dodgy looking black bed linen or the bottle of warm urine that Marc had left after being caught short in a traffic jam. They left hurriedly without shaking our hands. 

Onward to Hobro. The Brothel sauntered in last, as expected. Team Olly had made full use of the pool already. 

Hobro lies on the banks of a fjord. A field of calves were in the neighbouring field with chains around their necks. I'm led to believe their bells grow as they get older. All very picturesque after mile upon mile of monotonous Autobahns. 

The secret of the mysterious ferry had been guessed. I think the paperwork about Norwegian customs regulations I dished out might have been a clue. 

So, Valle in Norway is the next destination. An early start to make the 9-30 ferry. Have to be there 90 minutes before and it's a 70 mile drive to get there. 

The trip at the other end looks interesting. 130 miles but expected to take 3 1/2 hours. That's not a motorway then.  

Onward ! 

Munster Breakfast Club

After a long hard night, there is nothing better than falling in to bed. However, if a bed isn't immediately available, if it's rolled up in a bag and your mattress is covered in other peoples baggage then sometimes a beer is a good short term alternative. Alas, one beer can frequently lead to another beer. Thus I found myself the only member of Team Jezebel still awake, gassing with the other teams and nursing my 5th beer following the overnight drive.

 

We had our own camping field. Not huge, probably big enough for about 10 teams, which was about right.

As more teams drifted in, having stopped along the way for various reasons, the excuses for staying up and having another beer got stronger. Thus I found myself the only member of Team Jezebel still up, nursing my 8th beer and socialising, despite really needing to sleep. 

I buckled in the end, but not enough to move the luggage off my bed or unwrap my sleeping bag. Another half an hours doze was enough.

 

Luckily, before the beer kicked in, I was able to fulfill my main duty of the day. Team Olly, after last years Windy experience, were keen not to spend another night in Germany. Following high level negotiations, we were able to annex an area of Munster and declare it as an in dependant state. The birth of Banburyberg was celebrated by the entire population (of 4) and the joyous, slightly merry onlookers from the Munster Breakfast Club.  

The last team to roll in was the Mobile Brothel. Marc, the solo driver, (I'm insured, I had offered to share it) had been struggling with starvation and sleep deprevation, so had taken his time, arriving mid afternoon after my nap. 

Munster turned out to be a pleasant looking city with an elaborate looking cathedral and plenty of gable ended buildings. Plenty of South American buskers too bizarrely.

 

With the excitement of the fast approaching England v Italy World Cup match mounting, we wandered back to check out some potential venues. The campsite restaurant which offers large meals, snacks and breast feeding as well as German beer and football appears to be the winner. I'm intrigued. I'll update you tomorrow with how the combination works out. 

Oil Slick

If you were to ask a Texan if it is possible to have too much oil, I'm sure he would say no. I would disagree after the last 6 hours. 

My son Sean has just recently completed a year training as a mechanic, of sorts. It would appear that the course does not include a maths element. Thinking about it, are there any blonde mechanics ? It's a poor choice of complexion for a job like that. Anyway, I digress. 

My day had started early. 4am to be precise. I guess I had a few things on my mind. The 20 items on my 'to do' list for a start. The dishwasher was knackered too, adding to the stress of the day. 

With so much to do and a mechanically trained son, it made sense to leave him in charge of the mechanical issues, like the oil change, whilst I cracked on with printing stuff, logistical issues and other high powered stuff. Surely a simple oil change would be no problem at all for a mechanical engineer like Sean. 

Anyway, having removed 4 litres of oil from the sump and replacing it with 7 litres of fresh oil he reported back that Jezebel had taken on board all the oil we had bought. 

Alarm bells should have rung. I can only think that I was frantically busy with other issues. The car had broken down as well. I had added the purchase of a new dishwasher to the things to do list. Surely a simple oil change....

Time rushed by, as it does when you are in headless chicken mode. The list was fast disappearing, we were well ahead of schedule. 

5-30 arrived and we set off for the start line at the Bob Lucas Stadium. Everything was under control, running smoothly. Friday 13th ? Well, apart from the dishwasher going wrong and the car breaking down, nothing else had gone wrong. 

200 metres down the road, Jezebel spluttered, then coughed, then slowed down, backfired and sounded like she was gasping for air. I put my foot on the clutch and the engine died. This wasn't good. We were due to set off on an epic trip of several thousand miles, we had Echo reporters and all sorts of people due to see us off and Jezebel had broken down on her way to the start line. Underneath there was oil leaking out of the sump. Oh bloody hell ! 

Many thoughts flashed through my head. None of them good. Some brief snatches of conversation stuck though. "I've put all of it in and she's still not full...." Ah. That will be the problem then. She's drowning. 

The boot was full. I still think it's a design fault, having the engine hidden under your bed and the luggage storage area in the back. This was going to get messy. The Weymourh shirt was thrown meaningfully to one side and the luggage scattered across the pavement as I fought to locate the engine. Oil was oozing from the carburettor. Baby wipes were demanded and Sean got his first distainful glare of the day. 

Spark plugs were removed and cleaned. Swear words were muttered. The watch was glanced at frequently. Panic mode engaged. Finally, after the removal of a litre of dirty oil in to a bowl, the poor abused girl burst in to life again with a puff of oily smoke. 

We limped in to the car park with most of the teams already there. So much for the organised, early arrival. Interviews, group photos, people asking me questions as I jumped from job to job. Time passing too quickly, we all had ferries to catch. 

I dished out the first of the daily information sheets, telling the teams that we were meeting in Munster, then waved them all off to much cheering, waving and photos. I leapt on to Jezebel as she passed at the back of the line.

After stopping for fuel and air, I took over the driving as Jezebel was not running particularly well for Eileen. I found that as we were leaving Weymouth, her top speed was 28 mph and even this speed encouraged people to wave frantically at us to point out the cloud of oily white smoke following us. 

We got to Upwey. 3 miles from home. In a layby, poor Jezebel wheezed and died again. As I scalded myself on the hot black oil from the sump, I cursed my dear son. As I wiped the excessive oil from inside the carburettor, I gritted my teeth. As I twisted a red hot, oily spark plug from its home in the engine block, I plotted the next orifice I would be inserting it in to.

 

The hours delay showed me the true Windy spirit in two former Wjndy participants. Ralph stopped and came back to check on us. Mark shot past in an ambulance, waving cheerfully. Emergency service ? What about my bloody emergency ? 

Sean was fairly quiet once we finally got going again. Not sure if he was plotting another act of van related terrorism or just admiring his gormless act of destruction. 

Parents of 17 year olds. Do not let your children close to your vehicle. Driving it or maintaining it, it is not worth the stress. Trust me, I know.  

Down to the Bone

The traditional 'Hun Haircut', as worn around the 5th century by the all conquering tribe, led by their enigmatic leader Attila, involved having the hair cut back to the temples, leaving the part behind to hang untidily down to a great length. The Huns, of course, rampaged across much of Europe, demonstrating huge brutality as well as a keen sense of travel. Soon after the death of Attila in 453AD, the tribes of the Huns broke up. It does make you wonder though, doesn't it ? All of those rampaging Huns, just vanishing without trace. Surely they must have left some evidence of their far reaching expansion ? Some genetic link perhaps ?
Step forward Marc. Your secret is about to be revealed.

It's obvious when you think about it. The hairstyle is the main giveaway. Cut back to the temples, long and straggly at the back. But, there are other clues. His liking of power tools and rock music seems to suggest a suppressed, violent character and his longing to rampage once more across the European continent (let's just hope that he can behave a little better than his ancestors).

Marc chose last Friday to have his head shaved. He may claim this was for charity, but I have my doubts. Perhaps there was a more sinister reason for the drastic change of appearance. You aren't fooling me Marc. You and your genetics have been sussed.

Marc's travelling partner Clare is up next, choosing to throw herself out of a perfectly good plane somewhere over Salisbury on Saturday. Clare doesn't like heights apparently. Strange. After all, it's not the height that causes you problems, it's the ground.

Team George have also been cracking on with their fundraising too. The Lazy Lizard was swinging on Sunday and the dubious pink Swedish cider was flowing. A whole host of performers gave their services for nothing, all in aid of Julia's House. Outside, burgers and sausages were on offer, cooked an a barbecue big enough to roast a whole elephant on. Dave cheerfully informed me that they were planning on taking it on the Windy. Why ???? Are they expecting us to visit Africa ? What the hell are they hoping to kill that would warrant a barbecue of this size ? I guess if they put it on a low heat they could use it as a sun bed.
 Young Lucas is keen on going back to the Lazy Lizard. Not really for the music or for the drinks. No, he just liked the blue lizard shaped stamps on his hands (and later arms and chest), like kids tattoos.

Talking of tattoos, Eileen and I won a prize in the raffle. Strangely, when he went up to choose a prize, he ignored all of the alcoholic prizes on offer and selected a £50 voucher from a local tattoo parlour. Luckily it was shut as we considered what silly tattoos we should have and where we should have them. I've fallen for the alcohol and tattoo parlour combination before in my past. I'm running out of blank buttocks.

Just one last thought before I sign off. Apparently, the Huns went in for 'Artificial Cranial Deformation'.....
 

 

Final Approach

Blimey, has it really been that long since my last blog update ? So much going on, not all Windy 500 related. But here I am again, counting down the days (22 !) until we are off again.

Team Jezebel is taking shape. Last time, the team numbered 6. Never all at once of course, Jezebel only had 4 seats. We started with 4, sent 2 home after a few days, gained a rogue Team 12 and gained and lost another team member every week. Well, we have an extra seat this time. No ordinary seat either, more like an interrogation chair. A sinister black leather seat. I just need a spotlight to shine in to the occupants eyes. There's still 3 weeks, you never know....

So, 8 team members. 5 of whom came last time for all or part of the trip. The numbers include my wife, two offspring, mother-in-law and my future son in law. A real novice camper who has been bullied in to it by his mate Pete. All part of Pete's stag do apparently. Number 1 son, who is at that annoying age where he likes drinking beer but isn't quite old enough or affluent enough to buy his own or buy his long suffering father one yet. He will almost certainly be in for the long haul, draining the alcohol supplies in the process. Number 2 son is flying out with his grandma for the last 5 days to add to his impressive list of countries visited. He'll be ousting his cuckoo of a big brother from the nest, but there is apparently a space in the back seat with Team Milly. Better food and a fresh beer supply I expect.

Team George and Dave's work van

We have some fresh teams joining us this time around too. Team 007, the Lotus has now morphed in to two teams. John is still taking the Lotus, but Steve, his passenger for the last week of last year's is bringing a van. Sarah, formerly of Team 12 has defected to join John, whilst Raquel, who nearly came last time, has linked up with Steve to form Team 8. Team 33, or Team George, are another new team.
Gary and Dave are travelling in Dave's work van. Hopefully they will have removed the tools and will be bringing barbecue and tents.

Limo wars. Olly has competition this time.

So, together with the new limo of Team Just-Ice Cool, that makes 3 new teams. Team 12, the Mobile Brothel, has a new look with Clare joining Marc. New faces, nice to see. I'm sure they'll get in to the swing of things pretty quickly.

Of course the down side is that we are losing a few teams from last time. Team Red 5 have family and 50th birthday commitments. Team Chameleon also cited family issues, delighted to have done it once, but can't commit again. Team Nightmare have gone their separate ways, selling LaDiva and finding other ways to spend June. Team Swannie were hoping to come along, but work got in the way. Team Wessex likewise, just ran out of time to organise anything. Team Trauma ummed and ahhed about it for many months, but finally pulled out. Team Swanners want to join up again next time. Hopefully we'll see several of these pioneers back for another go next time.

But, only 22 days until we are off, so sights firmly on June 13th and the departure. Still a fair bit to sort out, a few van related issues to resolve. The under vehicle lighting has a dodgy connection and she seems to have a money spider infestation around the cab. Got to get my spotlight sorted for the interrogation seat too. See, told you I was busy....

Off Road

You may recall our exploits in Albania last summer. Whilst following the instructions of that damned Pratt Nav, poor Jezebel was taken up an Albanian goat track up the side of a mountain, miles from civilization. Off roading at it's most serious. Well, most serious that you would want to take an elderly camper van on anyway.
Well, she's been off road again. Not in the Albanian sense, more like just not able to get her on the road for any length of time. Firstly it was the MOT. The grim faced mechanic presented me with a list of requirements running to several pages. He even likened my van to Bambi as he pointed out that the rear wheels were pushed out at the bottom and it would need hundreds of pounds worth of welding. So, a few weeks parked up at Hairyman's before he was able to rectify the welding issues and get her road legal once more.
"She's running well" were his parting words as I pulled away, gleefully clutching the new MOT certificate. Two miles further on I was cursing him. Jezebel slowly ground to a halt at the side of the road and refused to start again. Fortunately, my discrete van had been noticed by Speccy Dave, barely 3 vehicles behind me. With some minor tinkering and a short tow, she was running smoothly once more. She got home and most of the way to work later on. Not the smoothest of rides though as we limped in to the police station on 3 cylinders, coughing, spluttering and back firing. At the end of the shift, at 7am I was in no mood for fighting with a misbehaving van. I abandoned her in the car park with her flat battery and got a lift home.
So, there she stayed for much of January. I made a few attempts to work out what her problems were. There are only so many times you can fiddle with the HT leads though. I even tried putting fuel in her.
Finally, after a month or so, we had success. Using the car to jump start her, bizarrely, she burst in to life. I headed for home as fast as I possibly could. About 5 mph as it turned out, as she seemed to be running on 2 cylinders.
Two hundred metres down the road, I pulled over, overcome with the embarrassment of having a line of cars, including a Smart car held up behind me. Once she had pulled over and stalled, she wouldn't start again. Nothing for it but to call out Green Flag and Mike the recovery driver for yet another drive of shame.
So, there she sits at present, on the driveway. I have made some improvements, she goes now, but still isn't quite right. The slightest hill has her spluttering and backfiring, but I think I know what the issue is. Some more inlet manifold gaskets ordered and will be fitted as soon as it stops raining. She will run properly again....one day.
In the mean time, my article that I wrote for the VW Camper and Commercial magazine has hit the press at last. A four page spread no less, mainly showing Jezebel off roading a couple of thousand miles across Europe. Oh to have a healthy van once more.....

Bling...Innit !

Just to add to the Royal Mail's current Christmas rush, I've been busy on Ebay this last week. Having seen some of the marvelous additions that some teams had adorned their vehicles with last time, I firmly believe that vehicle bling is going to be the way forward next time. After all, we all need our creature comforts, whether they are illuminated spice racks, under vehicle lighting, car horns that sound like cockerels or revolving cocktail cabinets. I have some new additions for Jezebel and a few more ideas up my sleeves too.

Single colour under vehicle lighting

The under vehicle lighting on Jezebel is good, but it is currently only available in blue. I'm thinking that this needs to be remedied before we set off in June. There is certainly a lot of scope for illuminating all manner of things with the relatively cheap lengths of LED lighting currently available.  The dull monotone horn is also due an overhaul I believe. The sound system, with the 'oh so yesterday' CD changer was frequently jumping. In fact it jumped somewhere in Albania and has still not restarted. A new music system with more speakers than Glastonbury festival is what is needed, however space, as always, will be the issue.

I've been looking at wiring and power points too. Previously, I had 3 functioning cigarette lighter points in the back and a non working one in the front. Good old Marc corrected (bodged?) this by installing two rough looking sockets coated in insulating tape and cable tied (oh God, how Neanderthal...) them to my new little bench seat, to allow us to use that bloody Pratt Nav gadget up front. Sorry Marc, your handiwork has been consigned to the bin, in favour of 3 brand new cigarette lighter points in the front. I've even got the original one working again too. So, I can now satisfy the lighting up requirements of 7 smokers simultaneously should I desire.

Team Milly posing with functioning hairdryer

I also now have an inverter. This will convert the 12v DC to 240v AC, allowing me to run a hair dryer, lap top, or whatever else springs to mind. The World is my oyster it would seem (and it means that I won't have to rely on the Mothership Milly and suffer the scorn of the old folk.)

The Mowlam's fund raiser last month went very well, several hundred pounds heading towards Julia's House, some acquaintances remade as well as some new faces. We have, it seems, a second limousine joining our ranks with Team Just Ice Cool. A fine choice of inappropriate vehicle and I'm sure they will fit in well. Chris and Marion have elected to take the famous number 14, formerly the number of Team Nightmare.

So, with Christmas fast approaching, Marc has organised a Christmas meal for the Windy teams on Sunday. We have by all accounts got a fair few of the 2013 teams turning up. An opportunity to find out if a few more of them are joining us again in 2014. Looking forward to it. Might also find out other team's bling ideas too....