D-Day +4 The Eagles Nest

I'm a bit tuckered out by all this blogging business, so I'm going to make this a shorter, final post for this trip and this blog. 

The Munich Beerfest is something to behold I can tell you. Thousands of six foot blonde Bavarians, dressed up in lederhosen and as drunk as skunks. This was where we ended up for medals evening. We were delighted to get a honourable mention in dispatches for our efforts although the Pirates rather predictably won the best dressed car prize. 

And yes, the steins did flow and yes, it was all fairly boozy. But if you can't have a few at this do, then when can you? 

A rare example of Munchener out of costume but fairly typically the worse for wear

Rally oompah band and competitors enjoying the festival

Us with finishers medals! 

So as the title of this blog suggests, we took a trip out to the Eagles Nest near Berchtesgaden today (Google). There is nothing left of the original building but the brass lined lift still exists and you can get a great sense of why, if one was a megalomaniac dictator, you'd want a country residence in such a fine location. 

The route in took us onto about 5km of Austrian motorway before returning into German territory. I said that given the short distance, we ought not to bother with an Austrian vignette. After about 4km, we got stopped by the Ausrian police and were issued a €120 on the spot fine. There wasn't much conversation in the car from that point on. Just a lot of stony stares. 

Hitlers gaff. Now a restaurant. 

Our final trip out included burning the brakes to the point where smoke was pouring from both front wheels and some anxiety filled soothing words were offered to our poor knackered car along with inspection stops to ensure she limped home one final time. Which she did. Bless her destroyed old joints, worn out clutch and shredded brake pads. 

RIP VW polo. You can sleep now. 

D-Day +3 (Prague - Munich)

So a Saturday night in Prague promises much. All night beer fuelled anarchy with pickpockets, prostitutes and kebabs or vomiting for dessert depending on the constitution of the individual party goer. 

We on the other hand were a bit pooped,  so decided to forego the fleshpots of the stag weekend city. In bed by 10pm after some light socialising and a spot of dinner. To be honest, I don't think anyone felt they missed out on a great deal and the extra sleep was most welcome. 

At check-in this morning, we joined the rally throng as usual and two of us tried out our tunnel trolley (made most expertly by Gary but somewhat worryingly he declined the invitation to actually use it). It turned out to be a minor hit and great fun  /only mildly perilous in my experience. 

Final day with a minority of cars on show. Several rallyists took advantage of Prague more fully than ourselves it seems. 

Jerry adopting a low profile on the tunnel trolley

People

I think we're all feeling the strain of our mobile incarceration but any frayed nerves have been kept to the occasional tut and rolling of eyes at a missed gear change or stereo operation incompetence. Prodigious quantities of chocolate and crisps have provided a sufficient buffer between cordiality and unbridled rage, as predicted. 

We'll see how we all feel in the morning after prize giving this evening followed by Munich Beerfest drowning of sorrows at inevitable lack of prizes. 

Vehicle

So quite remarkably, and after about 1400 miles on German autobahns, Polish dirt tracks, the cobbled streets of the Czech capital, French, Belgian, Dutch, and UK traffic jams, our 21 year old VW 

Polo made it to Munich. Well done old girl! I personally feel very sorry to be taking it to the car vet to have her put down. It seems like a very poor reward for outstanding service. If she starts tomorrow, we might arrange a last trip out before she's crushed into a tiny cube and turned into a bridge pylon or something. What a brilliant brilliant little car. 

I'm getting all emotional about it! 

Lovely Bavarian vista

Conditions

Dry and cloudy. Nice for driving, less well suited for sunbathing. Good job we're driving then. 

Culture

Prague does in fact have plenty to offer but we didn't get to see any of it which was a shame. Travelling into Bavaria provided some great great countryside to look out on but the planned diversion to Berchtesgaden (Google it) was just too much for our plodding pony today. Another shame but we've got a plan B for that if the old girl lasts an extra day.

Good King Wenceslas in his very own square

 

Car Interior Smell Rating - Like the inside of a packet of dry roasted peanuts. The dam has burst and costumes are beginning to develop personalities of their own. Everyone is being too polite to make a big deal of it but the perma-wrinkled noses tell their own story. 

D-Day +2 (Dresden - Prague)

I'm afraid I made a bit of a mistake last night. Instead of having a nice sociable beer or two with fellow competitors, I became the ringleader in a major first night boozathon. I got a bit excited to be frank. The joy of having made it through the first day without death or destruction went to my head a bit. Literally. The mistake being that I was first behind the wheel this morning and it hurt quite a lot. 

The beers in Dresden were quite moorish and came in 1.5L pitchers, served at ones table. No gap between drinks required, just solid Pilsner quaffing all night long. 

Between the four of us, we've managed to stitch together a reasonable proportion of the evening from our combined memory fragments. We did indeed talk to fellow drivers and apparently had a great night. The late night trip to McDonalds was revealed as an extra special forgotten treat this morning. 

I'll dwell for a moment on the Ibis hotel booking us into twin rooms which was in fact two doubles. When queried, we were advised we could either spoon in the double provided, sleep on the sofa which in their view was pretty much the same as a bed, or go and find ourselves another hotel. Except that they then advised Dresden was fully booked and we had absolutely no chance of finding another hotel. So I decided to have a personal word and a 50% discount was duly negotiated and refunded on the spot. 

While checking in this morning, we were treated to a German oompah band doing The Great Escape theme tune. Very funny and a great touch from the organisers. 

People

All is well in the car. Teams are getting to know each other a bit better and starting to swap stories. A FTO that flew past us yesterday at about 3 million mph apparently died of cambelt failure a few hours into the rally. Well if you're going to go, you might as well do it trying to break light speed huh? 

Vehicle

Well the old girl seems to be just warming up to this rally lark! We're still losing horses from under the bonnet and the clutch is riding very high and frequently aromatic but the run from Dresden to Stalag Luft III was clear and stress free. No hiccups, grinding, whining etc. above the now familiar set of noises. She's done about 1100m in three days and seems to be loving her last hurrah! 

Conditions

Beautiful driving weather. Cracking weather for anything really. Well except skiing perhaps. Warm, bright, dry. Lovely late summers day. 

Culture

Flippin loads! Dresden is a really nice city. Unexpectedly so. Great evening culture and there the history of course (Google it). 

Dresden at sundown

The first stop of the day was Stalag Luft III in Poland. Small museum blah blah blah. If you're into that sort of thing (and I am) it was an interesting place to visit. If you're not into demolished POW camps,
it's probably not worth your time to be honest. 

Harry

Billy, Jerry, Gary

Arrived in Prague about 6pm with every intention of having a quite one. We'll see. Personally, I'm well up for a mug of cocoa and an early night. 

Car Interior Smell Rating - Feet. Definitely feet, no question about it.  

....for the avoidance of doubt, the sofa was employed last night in our room in order to avoid any, you know, unpleasantness. I mean we're mates and all, but come on. 

I am unable to confirm or deny the same was true of the other two. Given the state we were all in, I'm quite frankly reluctant to ask. 

D-Day +1 (Koblenz- Dresden)

Upon arriving in Koblenz yesterday evening, we popped to a local bar as advised, to register our safe arrival. Duly done, we left the bar in question for another bar, for two reasons. Firstly, the bar where we registered didn't serve Guinness. One member of the team only drinks this vile liquid Tarmac, so we have a habit of seeking out the nearest Irish pub in order that he can coat his innards in the stuff. Secondly, it became clear to some less sociable members of the group that other rally competitors might also turn up wanting to register. This inevitably placed us at risk of being introduced to complete strangers or worst case scenario, a full-on social interaction. It was decided by a minority vote that such an outcome was too bitter to contemplate and a remote bar serving pints of Celtic gravy should be sought out immediately. 

The remainder of last night was mostly spent drinking beer and arguing what time we ought to get up to arrive at the rally start point. Two of us (including me) decided 'on time' would be appropriate. The other two decided a nice lie-in would be a better idea. Partly from sheer laziness, and partly to mitigate against meeting 'other people'. This debate lasted approximately three hours with no firm conclusion. In the end, I set the alarm for a time of my choosing and we managed to bundle the sleepy twins into the car a mere fifteen minutes behind plan. 

People

Still all fine. We've been cooped up together inside a large washing machine for two days solid now and any harsh words have been reserved for the new leader of the Labour Party, the Right Honourable Jeremy Corbyn, Adolf Hitler (both in separate conversations by the way) and the current lead designer at Alfa Romeo for turning such a coverted and distinctive marque into a Fiat 'me too'.

The suggestion has been put forward that we might be a bit more sociable this evening and say hi to the odd fellow rallyist. This proposed initiative received a frosty reception from our resident hermit but we'll see. In fairness, the mob that confronted us this morning at take off was Bob-on what you'd expect from this kind of affair, lots of beards and ample paunches. ...And the men weren't that much.... No, too obvious. Besides, there's something about pots and kettles in all of this. 

Most cars and competitors were in costume. Some a little obvious, some highly creative. I'm glad we joined in. The two (yes two!) U-boats were controversial and fun. The Dutch monkeys confused but appeared to be enjoying themselves. The Henry Hoover was simple but effective. The Red Baron was an interesting idea. And the hearse almost stole the show with its classy interior. I have to admit though that the pirate ship, for all of its obvious flouting of the £200 spend rule, took some well earned plaudits for design and execution. Complete with sail, Jolly Roger and water balloon broadsides, its slightly delayed entrance was magnificent. The A-Team, with theme music Dopplering comically as they cruised around the start point clearly had a similar 'big bang' arrival in mind which sadly for them fell a little flat after the drama provided by the buccaneers. 

First pic of us in full effect. 

Conning tower and propeller were nice additions. 

About £3000 worth of effort perhaps? Worth it though. 

Vehicle

Well we made it. Power is down and the clutch is taking a hammering that is slowly eating away at our ability to pull away from a standstill. 

Conditions

Not bad today! Cloudy but nice driving weather. 

Culture

There was meant to be a stop off at Castle Colditz (Google it) on the way to Dresden but we've all been there before. So instead we stopped at Weimar, birthplace of the Weimar Republic (Google it) for a lovely posh lunch. Nice place!

Previous trip to Colditz (don't want anyone to think I'm a fibber)

Car Interior Smell Rating - Musty with a touch of feet. 

D-Day (Bracknell - Koblenz)

Well I guess it has to be an age thing. There was a time when a road trip with your mates in a banger required nothing more than a bottle of tequila, a south coast resort with a reputation for lax policing and the last two quid that the four of you can pool together for a late night bag of chips each. 

Now it seems, the very prospect of departing without an 8" satnav (bought especially), a new radio with iPhone comparability (bought especially) and a large Bakewell tart (home baked especially) is too terrible to contemplate and all these essential ingredients were found an appropriate nook in the car, alongside bags, jackets, currency of several flavours and denominations (plus cards in imposing platinum, black and graphite for hostage ransom purposes) Hi-Vi vests and several air fresheners. With all of this unnecessary luggage, there was sadly no room for a bottle of tequila. No-one seemed to mind in the end and the Bakewell tart was delicious. As I say, I think it must be an age thing.

I'll do this as a short summary of the component parts I think;

People

All fine actually. A little grumbling about the early start from certain quarters but all really looking forward to the trip and generally catching up as blokes do. Courteously asking how the missus is, then spending eight hours debating the European crisis and why you can no longer ask your mate to pass you a black Jelly Baby. Racist apparently. 

Vehicle 

Awfully rattly really. I honestly don't think we're going to get there at this rate. Five hundred miles in a single day is quite unprecedented and seems to have aged the old girl rather. 

The clutch started to smell around Charleroi and has in truth suffered from some rough handling for most of the day. This I think, is the biggest concern at present. There is a nasty grumbling between driver and passenger (insert gag of choice) and the temperature gauge flicks from left to right doing a worrying impression of a Geiger counter in a Chernobyl fairground. It pulls the left somewhat noticeably, the lights have been entirely obscured by the deflectors we added because Europe still refuses to drive on the correct side of the road. Finally, any attempt to drive above 60mph produces a strained wail from the engine like a constipated woman sat on the toilet having just suffered a prolapse. 

Still, provided the pace remains modest, overall you could say, she gets hot and flustered in traffic but still offers a quality ride after feeling the benefit of a cool breeze under her skirt after a few minutes on the open road. ...Well we're still going at least. 

Conditions 

Appalling. It's been hooning it down all day. Miserable conditions for driving really. 

Culture

Somewhere between nothing and minus several hundred. Northern French, Belgian and German motorways have little to recommend themselves culturally. The closest we've got to true culture was breaking open a bucket of Waitrose chocolate mini rolls. 

Car Interior Smell Rating - Wet dog  

Someone bought a selfie stick much to the disgust of some others. It has thus far been adopted under sufferance. 

D-Day -1 Month - The Transformation

Ok, so there's nothing particularly funny about the reconstruction work that was carried out on the car last weekend. Plus, I don't want to spoil the surprise and reveal what happened to the ugly ducking to turn it into the swan that it is today.
Suffice to say, it was a day of waiting for late arrivals (you know who you are), shopping in DIY stores, cups of tea, mulling, pointing, arguing, and finally, getting on with a bit of work. After splitting into teams of two, there was a good deal of Team A critique-ing the work of Team B. Then a good deal of Team B biting their tongues for as long a could be endured before breaking cover and criticising the work of Team A in return. This was repeated pretty much throughout the afternoon until it was time for the pub. ...Where the process was repeated until closing time.

High security being employed at the top secret design centre in Bracknell

D-Day -2 Months - The Car

At last! The actual vehicle of our inevitable roadside breakdown has coughed into view and is currently sitting in the communal car park where I live, much to the annoyance of other residents presumably.

Lets remind ourselves of what we have to deal with here shall we? 1200+ miles of European roads without back-up or AA support, mechanical expertise that pretty much runs dry after 'change tyre', four ever expanding specimens of alpha male flesh and bone, one dodgy back, a perennial dicky tum,  luggage for all, and combined personal habits that would make a troop of monkeys blush.

With such a heady cocktail, one might expect a sensible estate car (that could be 'station wagon' to some readers) of reasonable vintage from a reliable marque to make the short list of suitable transportation. Perhaps a boring but spacious SUV or people carrier, 'comfort over class' I hear you murmur and nod with approval. Maybe a big ole' ponderous Merc with masses of pedigree and volumous trunk? 'The very thing!' you opine. Even a cheeky Japanese hatchback jobbie would do, oozing everlasting reliability and practicality. 'Nooo way!' you declare. 'Haven't you ever seen 'Bridge on the River Kwai? They're still not forgiven for sending Alec Guinness doo-lally'.

Sadly the £200 budget somewhat crimped our style so something a little more compact and modest and mature had to be settled for. In the end, I parted company with £80 and saved a 21 year old Volkswagen Polo from the scrap heap.
For those unfamiliar, it fits the 'urban runaround' moniker perfectly and carries two up front with a passable degree of comfort. And...... no, that's it. It fits two fairly comfortably. The two that get dumped in the rear are likely to suffer from deep vein thrombosis about 50 miles into the trip. I don't think there will be a shortage of volunteers for the roles of navigator or driver.
The VW Polo scampers to 60mph with ease on open roads after 10.2 seconds of patient waiting, or did so when factory fresh (and this one isn't) and then sits there with relative gay abandon until the brakes are applied, whereupon, it slows calmly but firmly to a halt well short of the toddler who's just run out into the road in front of you without looking (this example does none of the above). It will carry its load at a top speed of 117mph (Yeah! Right!) if one is feeling a bit 'F1' on any given day. It has some windows, two of which used to be electric, a steering wheel which broadly moves the car left when you pull down on it with the left hand and right-ish when you pull down with the right hand. Those are the main features. It is a perfect example of function over unnecessary frippery and not exactly awash with gadgets.

Sure, the shocks have collapsed. I'll admit, one of the tyres has lost 80% of the rubber it was originally sold with. The bodywork rust has in actuality become the dominant exterior colour, overtaking the factory paint job. The fact that the radio can't be heard above the knocking and clonking from under the bonnet hasn't escaped my notice, but it does at least HAVE a radio. All in all, I was mildly surprised (perhaps 'shocked to the very core' might cover the ground more adequately) that it passed its MOT without more than a few minor advisory complaints. But here it is, all legal and above board.
I should finish by offering mighty big congratulations to Volkswagen for producing such a stalwart example of 1990's mechanical engineering. Refreshingly minimalist, and unexpectedly still sailing under its own steam. A bit more legroom wouldn't have gone amiss, but you can't have everything can you?