Day 3: Tudela, Crossing Spain, Valladolid, Portugal

We woke the next day, relieved to find that the sly plant had not finished us off in our sleep after all. Our breakfast was typically Spanish: fresh orange juice and toast with olive oil. Delicious!
However, as we had announced our visit only a few days before, Natalia and Luis had already made plans to spend the weekend with Natalia’s family.

Before we set off, there was one last issue to resolve. We had arranged to meet somebody in a city in Western Spain – but we had no clue how to pronounce it. Helpful as always, Natalia showed us “Valladolid” on the map and repeated “Bayadolith” until we were able to ask for directions, if necessary. She also presented us with some regional Spanish wine.


The night before Natalia had led the way. That day we were going to follow them until a roundabout, then turn in the direction of Soria while Natalia and Luis continued towards Pamplona. In fact, they actually stopped right in the middle of the roundabout. Natalia left the car and indicated the correct exit. Unbelievable. Last kisses for everyone – and we left with the promise that our favourite Spanish couple would soon return the visit in Germany.

After a quick stop in the nearest Eroski supermarket for water and a pharmacy, we were on the road again.

Driving towards Soria, we enjoyed the beautiful landscape of Navarra. Mountains covered in snow stood proudly against the blue sky, the sort of blue Romy likes to call “azul ibérico” because it seems so much richer than back home.

Even though we had left roughly two hours later than planned, we decided to take the national road. Crossing Spain from East to West, we admired the changes in the landscape. From snowy mountain-ridges we continued to impressive limestone rocks as we continued towards Valladolid.

Warm shades ranging from cream to terracotta marked these sedimentary rocks.

We stopped only briefly to fuel the car. In Spain there are hardly any self-service petrol (gas) stations – unlike in Germany. Therefore Romy eyed the petrol guy suspiciously when he just asked “pleno”. A second stop was made for Danni to photograph some storks. It was only when we saw our photos back in Porto that we found a trace of the missing red strap we had used to secure the camera.
Can you spot it?

By that time we were getting hungry. An expert in travel cuisine, Danni had packed various delicacies made for the road: smoked sausage, Avocado, Pecorino cheese, crackers, grapes, cucumber and loads of dark chocolate. A feast – and only another 55 km to go until we would reach our first destination.


Before setting off, Romy had contacted a hospitality club member in Valladolid. Again due to short notice, Miguel Ángel was away for the weekend. However, he had given us the name and contact of a good friend of his who might be able to show us around the city. Alberto agreed to meet us in a bar in “Bajada de la Libertad”. So we left the car in a car park and asked the guard for directions. Once again, we realised how we complement one another perfectly. While Romy nodded understandingly “vale, gracias”, Danni paid attention to his gestures and directions.

Once we had left the car park, we paused and thought. None of us speaks Spanish. But somehow we had got the idea that the guy had mentioned a globe… or had he? There it was. “La bola del mundo”. A fountain on the “Plaza de España”.


Not only were we on the right track and on time, but actually early, unbelievable as it may seem. So we set out to discover some of the city on our own. A roadmap gave us directions of where to go and what to find.

On our way we passed a “plaza” where a fountain showed the everyday life of the simple people. Romy was absolutely fascinated by the detail of a small boy, cheekily sticking his tongue out at visitors and locals alike.

We strolled on until we came to another statue. Poor guy, pushing so hard, yet he never managed to move his load even a single inch.

Heave-ho! He obviously needed a helping hand and Danni was only too ready to oblige.


Still some time to throw a glance a the Cathedral and some other church before it was time to find “El Penicilino”, the bar where we were going to meet Alberto.

On our way, we passed an old lady selling freshly roasted chestnuts in the street. Did I say passed? Of course we stopped and had a few.
When we entered the bar, it was crowded and smoky. Young people were sitting and standing everywhere, having a laugh and a beer. Finally he came.

After introducing ourselves we sat down for a coffee and a tea. Alberto was very nice, chatting readily about Spain, the Spanish language and, most important of all, Valladolid. Then he gave us a tour of the city.

One of the most amazing things we saw were the storks. Nowadays rare and under environment protection in Germany, we were amazed to see so many of them.


One of the most interesting things Alberto showed us was an old bullfighting arena that had been transformed into housing. On our way back to the city hall we passed another interesting statue: “el eterno viajero”. Hopefully we would not continue forever but reach our final destination the same day.


Later we had some Tapas together, then it was time to say goodbye. But where had we left the car? Romy was saying something Alberto had never heard in his life, Danni was talking about “little ways”. Finally he guessed where we were trying to get to and gave us directions of how to find the car. We said goodbye reluctantly after a very nice afternoon with Alberto.


When we returned to the car park, the guard immediately recognised us and asked if we had found everything all right. We nodded enthusiastically, paid the parking fee and waved him goodbye. At last we were on the final leg on our way to Porto.

Continuing on the national road, we passed Zamora, following one of the good counsels we had received from the Portugal Forum. Another good advice we took was refuelling the car before crossing the border as petrol is much cheaper in Spain. And finally – Portugal!

At the end of our third day we entered the Promised Land. In comparison to what we had already travelled, Porto seemed within spitting distance. Night had fallen a long time ago – as well as our hopes of reaching Porto before midnight. After passing Bragança, Vila Real and Penafiel, it was two o’clock when we stopped the car in front of Romy’s house. But of course we had forgotten to set the clock to Portuguese time. One o’clock, home at last.

Carina, one of Romy’s flatmates, was still awake and welcomed us. But we were too tired for long chats. Barely did we carry all the bags and baskets upstairs before we went to bed. Our German habits as well as our travels through France and Spain had spoilt us – we were freezing to death in a flat without radiators. Danni just wrapped herself snugly in her sleeping bag.

But cold or no cold, we were there. At last.

Day 2: La Chaussée, Bassin d’Arcachon, Pyla Dune, Tudela

Our second day began in La Chaussée with Christophe’s parents, Elizabeth and Didier. We had a long French breakfast with Antoine, another friend of Danni’s who had also stopped by.

Finally we managed to get going again. Antoine took us to Blois to fuel the car and off we went, always staying close to the Loire. Suddenly something came back to our minds: the oil! As the Corsa was using up quite a bit of motor oil, we should have checked it in Luxemburg already, let alone the last time we fuelled the car.
Unfortunately, the engine had already heated up and it was quite impossible to determine the actual level on the measurement stick. After a discussion about how to interpret it, we filled in some more oil and decided that the oil level must be well within or even above the margins (a decision we later confirmed when the engine had cooled down).


Back on the road, it was time to text Romy’s friend Natalia about our arrival. But where was the mobile?! It turned out that it had preferred the cosy atmosphere in the house of Elizabeth and Didier, accordingly deciding to stay in La Chaussée. We had already done quite a few kilometres, no point in turning back then if we still wanted to reach Spain the same day. And what adventure without the unforeseen?! Luckily, Romy still had Natalia’s number somewhere in her laptop and our arrival was announced at last.

If the weather had been grey and snowy when we had left Germany, the air was crisp and clear as we travelled towards the coast. It had been snowing during the night, but the sun had already dried the roads, thus making it a pleasure to drive while watching the snowy landscape. Naturally, watching wasn’t enough. Soon we stopped to feel our first real snow this year.

Of course Danni couldn’t resist the chance to juggle some snow balls


And dropping them in due turn ;)


The whole lay-by area was covered in snow,
only a few spots of colour remained.


To avoid taking all the snow into the car on getting back in, we parked the Corsa in the one dry spot we found where everything else was covered in melting or not quite melting snow.


Soon afterwards we reached the “Bassin d’Arcachon”, the Arcachon bay. As we both love the sea, there was no question about where to go: Straight on, until we reached the water. We didn’t really care about the city because there was already salt in the air. So close to the water, there was nothing to stop us. Neither did we mind the street turning into a mere dirt road nor the fishing huts nor the picturesque boats displayed on trailers in nearly every yard.


Only a dog behind the wheel of a truck slowed us down enough to take a photo. Where was he going to?!


We continued along the road until it ended close to the bay. Colourful houses created a special atmosphere as we parked and left the car.

The landscape looked rather swampy.
Blue and green dominated the image.

Due to low tide, oyster beds and boats were almost on the ground.
Finally we could smell the sea both of us love so much.

On the way back towards the village, we suddenly heard some music. It was the sort of sound you may have expected in the 1950’s – but where did it come from? Precisely at that moment, we noticed a car driving in front of us. An oldtimer with speakers attached to the roof. Driven, of course, by the stereotypical Frenchman in a black coat and beret…

Our next stop was at the harbour. While Romy spent ages there taking photos and dreaming of taking one of the boats out to the sea, Danni had already returned to the car. After all, what was a port against the real sea?!

By that time, the day was coming to an end. The sun was almost setting and we stopped for another break. As we walked towards what must be the Atlantic Ocean, we met a few people coming from the opposite direction. They told us that we would be just in time to see the sunset. So we continued towards the beach.

But where we had expected only beach and the sea, we found an absolutely enormous dune.


“Spielkinder” that we are, both of us immediately started to run around, play with the light, discover the different patterns created by the water, the setting sun and ourselves.



Just as fascinating as taking photos of the dune and the sea was watching the other,
lost in the spectacular beauty, and losing oneself again.

If it hadn’t been for the freezing cold and the fact that there was still a destination to reach, we would have stayed until the sun had set completely.

Running rather late, we just took one last picture of the beautiful scene and set off again.

Once the sun was gone, darkness fell quickly. We were now driving along the national towards the motorway and Spain. Only, there was no way to enter the motorway! Where the map had indicated a slip-road, we found only a diversion. For lack of alternatives, we continued on what we soon called our “private motorway”, a road parallel to the one we were trying to get to. Then, a lay-by. But being in France, everything was laid out for toll. No way of accessing the motorway from where we were. So we continued right until the end of the diversion until we finally reached the next toll station. And what a toll station! You just had to throw the road charge into a basket… Wicked. Awesome.


And then, at long last, we reached Spain. However, instead of leaving the motorway immediately near Irún, we continued towards San Sebastián. Finally, the only toll-free road we could get back in the direction of Pamplona was a national that led us straight through the mountains of the Basque Country. While Danni dozed off, Romy and the Corsa enjoyed climbing the winding roads, the snowy landscape and the thrill of being alone in a deserted area.


Eventually we found our way back to civilization. We were already far too late for dinner, but the prospect of a warm place, let alone meeting a dear friend was enough to keep us going. When we reached Tudela, Natalia came to pick us up in the city as we had no idea of where to go. The brave little Corsa followed her shining Seat until her house where we met her partner, Luis. Together they live in an amazingly homely, very sweet little house on the outskirts of the city. Later we sat down to look at photos and reminisce about the good old times Romy and Natalia had spent in Oxford. Talking about this and that we also ended up on Spanish Christmas customs and Natalia gave us some special Nougat, a traditional gift.

A long day was over. However, there was one last challenge: The plant! Would we survive a night in the same room with a living plant if we closed the door?

Day 1: Germany-Luxemburg-Verdun-Paris-La Chaussée

The beginning of the great adventure was all but adventurous. We set out January 25th early in the morning... at least kind of. Romy was late – who would have thought?! But when she got to Ochtendung, Danni wasn’t ready anyway. After some last minute-packing and desperate music-onto-mp3-copying it was 2 hours later than planned when we finally got going.

From being grey and cloudy, the weather went to dark and even more cloudy. It was snowing by the time we were driving on the Autobahn. Imagine a 2000 km journey like that – highly inconvenient, to say the least.

It was snowing heavily when crossed the Hunsrück, but by the time we reached Luxemburg, all snow had vanished from the air and the sky had miraculously cleared up. Our first highlight: Fueling the car.

Though we couldn’t agree on how to call it,
(British) petrol and (American) gas had never been cheaper.

At the same time, Danni was making herself useful by wiping the windscreen.


Well fed and cleaned, the Corsa rolled on towards France – or so we thought. Suddenly we were back in Germany. Oh well, who hasn’t been dreaming of seeing the “Igeler Säule”?! Declared UNECSCO world heritage, it was still nothing that could keep us. Just an enormous stone column...


At least it was a great chance to take all the pictures of the “Luxemburg” sign at the border we initially hadn’t pictured perfectly. In fact, we decided to document all future crossings between countries in the same way.


But then it was back on the road and off to France. Everybody knows that you have to carefully plan and organise a trip such as ours. It is essential to set off early after a good night’s sleep. And naturally both of us had just slept a mere 2 hours. So we took the chance to swap turns. Danni took over while Romy dozed off. In fact, nothing could wake her until well into France. So much for taking pictures of all border signs...

Our first “proper” stop was in Verdun to see the historic battle fields from World War I.

The whole area is organised in memorial sites such as trenches and bunkers as well as gun emplacements, which you could only enter through a very narrow opening.


In fact, Danni was amazed to find that they had actually named one of the main roads „Avenue of the European Bodies“ – or had they? More likely that the “Avenue du Corps Européen” is a tribute to the "Eurocorps", a force made up of soldiers drawn from the armies of Belgium, France, Germany, Luxemburg and Spain.


Stretching out as far as the eye could see, the whole area was marked by the holes and crates left by bombs and grenades.


Another site was the original location of a completely destroyed village. Where only crates remain, Romy was far more fascinated by the patterns the ice had formed in some of them during the freezing process of various nights.



Talking about ice – it was freezing cold. As a rule, Romy never locks her door, but this time she had actually gone one step further in leaving it gaping wide open - which didn’t really help much with the cold.


Overlooking the battle fields was an impressive cemetary
scattered with thousands of white wooden crosses.

Shaped like an enormous bullet casing, the "Ossuaire" was a huge monument containing the bones of the fallen soldiers.

Though... we couldn’t help but wonder if its phallic shape wasn't much rather a symbol of manhood fallen from grace.

Paris – a city Romy had wanted to visit for a long time. Yet, when we checked our route, it seemed just too complicated to stop by. What a shame. However, things changed just two days before we left: A good friend of Danni’s she hadn’t seen for over two years was in Europe – and even better: Christophe was in Paris. As if that wasn’t enough, it turned out that Vivi, an Italian friend Romy had made in Porto had just arrived the day before.
It looked as if Paris was just meant to be…

We had arranged with Vivi to meet her at a Mc Donald’s near her place. However, once we had left the Périférique, reaching our destination in less than one minute seemed too easy in a city with a reputation for impossible traffic conditions. So we continued towards the centre until we finally realised that we had actually been spot on in the first place. To make up for it, we had to find our way back against a challenging system of tricky one-way roads.
And there she was!

If the meeting point had already been easy to find (in theory), it was nothing against parking. That was when Vivi took over the place behind the wheel. Thanks to her insider knowledge we instantly found a space and if that wasn’t enough, for free!!! Thoroughly pleased with ourselves, the three of us set out to meet Christophe.

Easier said than done. As Danni had problems to understand Christophe’s directions to some “Poeb”on the phone, we tried to find the bar he had mentioned by the little information we had. It was like looking for the famous needle in the haystack in a street where almost every house included at least one bar or café – and many of them had Pub in the name. Or was it maybe our incapability of pronouncing “Pub” with the proper French accent “Poeb”?
Yet eventually we found Margen’s Pub.

However, when we entered Margen’s Pub there was no Christophe in sight. What to do? Luckily, one of the waitresses had overheard his conversation with “someone from Germany”. It turned out that the most important part we had missed was that he was going to collect us at the Metro station… No point in going back now, so the waitress directed us to a table where his friends were still sitting. Just at that moment the door opened and Christophe came in.
Together – at last.

We sat down to a drink and a chat. Finally Christophe and Danni had a chance to catch up on what had happened during the past few years. As with all good friends, it was as if they had never been apart. Yet time was flying as we enjoyed a good time together. Vivi had to leave and we still had to go as far as La Chaussée. Before we continued our trip, however, Christophe took us on a nightwalk through the softly lit streets of Paris.


So beautiful! Walking by all the famous buildings felt like a dream. Then Christophe’s surprise: almost out of nowhere Notre Dame suddenly appeared in front of us.


But the highlight was Le Louvre.
Impressive as it must already be in daylight, at nighttime it is simply spectacular.


For us, it was a special occasion which we will keep in our memories.
But nothing wrong with helping the memory once in a while by sharing it with others…

Completely enchanted, we walked for nearly two hours, hardly noticing the freezing cold. Accordingly, we were running very late... It was well after midnight when we finally arrived at La Chaussée St. Victor. However, Christophe’s parents hadn’t gone to bed yet and gave the two long awaited wanderers a very warm welcome.