Tent trauma

The Tent. So far the tent has been a source not of sanctuary but of torment. Those who follow the Facebook page (and I have no idea why you wouldn’t cos all the brilliant people do) know of my joy at discovering that my expensive Northface Tent is less than water tight.

So I thought  I would do a quick blog on that adventure alone.

the Tent Nappy

As you all know, as soon as we encountered anything heavier than a slight mist the rain began to pour in through the roof and everything that had to stay drive had to be moved back into the car. The first night saw the design and testing of the Tent Nappy.

However, further field test proved that while it was successful in a small area the rain was able to get in around the sides of the Tent Nappy so in a bit of paniced desiging and improvision we have the Tent Toupee, courtesy of the folks at Newquay.

The Tent Toupee

There are design faults, and there are many I’m sure you could point out, but the main one is that while defending from the rain the Tent Toupee is powerless against that partner in crime of thunderstorms-wind. And just like its namesake in a slight breeze it will stand up and then float away.

The Tent-a-grad

Next we have the Tent-a-grad (the Tent Castle) inspired by the castle towering over Lake Bled in Slovenia and supplied up the Dutch. However, it lacks a certain style elelment don’t you think? To be honest it shares more with a drying wood pile than either a castle or a tent.

And that folks is how the situation stands. Northface have not bothered to reply to my email and therefore i have no choice but to never risk buying their stuff again.

Thankfully we've had some blue skies since then, but there's still the journey back....

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Have a good week folks
Cheers Matt

Croatia, Serbia and Macedonia

One of the wonderful things about traveling is the unpredictability of the whole affair. I remember returning from Papua New Guinea saying that ‘I did nothing I planned and planned nothing I did’ a bit pretentious I’ll grant you but you get the idea. It's the serendipity of each trip.

Car park camping

So I found myself putting up my tent in the car park of a famous mountain restaurant, known for decades for its meat dishes, high in the mountains of Serbia about 100 miles from the border with Macedonia. Not strange enough for you? Okay as I’m doing it I’m chatting to a pair of Macedonian bikers who pulled up next to me for a break. Their English is flawless and they are on their way to a music festival for the weekend somewhere in Serbia. As we chat they buy me a beer and share their burger. I kid you not, it may have looked pretty pasty and uninspiring but it was by far the best tasting burger I have ever had, by a very long way.

I had to make a dash across the three countries a) because of time and b) because that’s what Mum, Dad and Jimmy did. So in a manner of days I put the pedal to the metal Austin style and crossed Croatia, Serbia and finally Macedonia.

Croatia in five lines.

I know all the cool cats dig jazz but Miles Davies had been getting right up my nose from the moment I got lost in Zagreb. Had it been an old cassette Miles and his trumpet would have spent the last of his days in a bush on the Croatian highway. That was the first time I got lost; the second time saw me heading west towards the coast rather than east to the Serb border. And I got to pay a toll for the pleasure.

Serbia in Five lines

Crossing the border just after dawn Austin and I entered Serbia. It was to be the briefest of meetings. We had only a little time and most of that was spent driving. The countryside of sunflowers, corn cobs and cloudless skies changed little from those in Croatia, in fact with the exception of a few extra donkey carts it would have been difficult to tell you had crossed the boreder until the fields gave way to mountains nearer Macedonia.

Icons and knives

Macedonia in fives lines.

Sadly Macedonia, a fascinating little country with a wealth of historiacal and cultural riches, got the shortest straw of all so far this trip. Like the others when Mum, Dad and came this way didn't exist except as a small region of the greater Yugoslavia. The drive through the high passes along roads that needed a little TLC was a lot like a real life Mario Cart, except there were no extra lives.

Hidden Churches in mountian valleys

There is so much to writre here about these great little countries but not enough time to do it justice. Hopeful I'll be able to give them a little more time in the final book.

Don’t forget there are loads of Galleries over at the Facebook page, just click like.

Have a good week folks
And again soz if there are any typos.
Cheers Matt