2005 Summer of Love European Van Tour (01.08.05 - 16.08.05)

editor's note:
sometime in early august i answered an email call from "simple guy" little and togs to join them on their 2005 summer of love european van tour. i didn't feel like working, so i thought, "what the hell". i cruised with them in helga from barcelona in spain, through the french riviera, and down to naples in southern italy. this is an account of our travels...



Togs & Steve´s (and now Dave's) European Van Tour - Phase 3

kindly contributed by "simple guy" little

Phase 3

Our pleas for mates were answered with a one line text message from the nortorious Butcher (ed's note: have no idea why i got that nickname... steve???), who asked to be picked up at the airport in barca at 2 30 one monday.

It was clear that we were going to have to up our performance after the run of bad luck we had experienced so in London we scrounged around for some self help books and stumbled across a gem, how to change your life in 7 days.

The book was all about imagining things are going well so I decided we were now the luckiest van tour in the world ever, and touch wood things have gone well so far. Ok it had large writing and the seven chapters only took 15 minutes to read each, and I definately don't agree the key to living happily ever after is to spend every morning imagining little dolphins swimming through your blood stream....

The south of France

Another little gem of a book on this tour highlights all the best places to see in the world (togs religeously wants to tick every one, even if it means taking a photo from a moving car) but it has been invaluable. We therefore saw some cunning little medieval towns and wine regions tucked away just out of sight in Langue d'Oc and provence. Tick.

Our real goal was the French Riviera, St Tropez was where sun tanning was invented, Nice and Antibes proved to be good fun.

Antibes

Amongst the vans again we camped on the train line between Cannes and Nice, quite close to the resort Antibes. The messiest two nights that week happened there, as we discovered a 12 sleeper van inhabited by ozzies known as the Minge Eater (all vans have to have a name) and some others parked at the beach. There were already 12 of us in our camp site so trouble was seen brewing on the horizon from early on.

To cut it short, I have a whole memory stick of video footage of togs joining in a line dance (ed's note: togs... wwwwhhhhhyyyyy???), later on the Minge Eater packed us all in, turned the music up (they have a full cupboard of dj quality equipment) and drove to Nice. The next day you could see flattened hedges all over town, and one of our kiwi friends apparently only woke up on a pavment the next day.

France up to now had made an initial rush from within the pelaton for the leaders (Spain, Norway, Holland) but had faltered and dropped off the pace when a grumpy old camsite receptionist tried top scream me out of his shop for being english (rule #1 in france, don't speak english). However one night in Antibes while at a live performance by the Mullits (a very good cover band) some french girls invited us back to a private bar for the U2 after party, let us spend the night and drove us back to our camp site in the morning.

Dave 2

This would be a good point to explain why we think we will need a sub for Dave in the near future. Now in the day time Dave 1 is the most placid, friendly and well tempered hey-bru (durban surfer) you could ever meet. But unfortunately he is quite shy and so at night he likes to have a few drinks before going out and meeting people. I won't skip ahead to Italy just yet, but already in France he nearly ruined our international relationship by demanding sex from our female driver (ed's note: mom... this is so not true... honest!!!) all the way to our private party mentioned above. Togs: "I was wondering if I opened the door and rolled out if any one would notice".

Her english was not very good and we kept him quiet, france and SA are still mates.

Monaco

In true grand prix style, we drove through the little town quite rapidly. This was because Helga felt very inadequate alongside an array of all the world's most expensive cars, and to keep phase 3 rolling we are all into treating her like our little princess.

Italy

We made it into Italy at last but Italy is a strange creature, keeping her back to us as we entered. The first coastline was quite tacky compared to France and our compulsory pizza stop resulted in much confusion due to the language barrier. We had to eat it in the car, and though it was good, it was created by a albino pastry dish of a man who struck gold when 3 tourists walked in.

Cinqu Terre

After a failed attempt to reach "the world's most photographed village" of portofino by car we headed for Cinque Terre, one of the unspoilt ancient coastlines of Italy. It comprises 5 little fishing villages accessible only by boat, rail or 17 million windy little lanes in the mountains. However it lived up to its famous name and Italy showed her true colours.

Pisa

Our real sightseeing began one morning with the skew village of Pisa, which slopes away from its central tower.


From there we began the grind of the last two weeks, ticking off two thirds of the worlds most valuable cultural sights.

Florence

The cultural capital of the renaissance, we rolled into town looking for the 4 ninja turtles and a few vans. We actually did find the gallery hosting good old Michaelangelo, Leonardo, Raphael and Donatello, but not before walking the length of the city for two days in the stifling heat and spending time in various queues.

far more impressive was the camp site on the hill above town, which sold cheap bottles of wine and had a live band (i think) at the bar. Dave 2, 2b and 3 were all present, to the point where after telling some americans how much he hated their country they started to cry. That took me a good two hours to fix, but SA and USA are not best friends. Togs in the mean time tried to wrestle one or two poms into submission, taking out half the tables but luckily the wrestling stopped when he was asked by his opponent what her name was.

I just settled for pitching a tent and taking things slowly.

Rome

With all this hard work going on in the day time in Tuscany, Umbria and Rome we had to reduce ourselves to the night on - night off policy (barring one or two triple headers) and these have been some of our biggest nights out.

Which was the best doesn't matter, but 2 euro bottles of wine have been the root of most of our evils (3rd phase mascott Dave felt so guilty in the end he committed tour suicide and flew home). From nights in the pub with other vans (most commonly Helga's boyfriend Gary) especially a 40 strong pub crawl across Rome (the organisers said the worst in their company's history, and Kiwis have been banned from all camp sites in Florence and Rome, and all organised social events as far as I know. Quite a few of them have spent time behind bars already as they quietly destroy 400 year old monuments across the country) Or meeting fellow campers from other countries, who don't drink as much but nevertheless provide plenty of entertainment.

I would like to describe some of what my innocent young eyes have witnessed but it would only encourage bad behaviour. And I know those that would enjoy it won't read this far in the mail.

Steve (and inadvertently Togs and Dave).

editor's note:
this sure was a strange time for me - i was a revolutionary anti-capitalist trying to find my way back into western society... in other words i was sad and confused and angry. i therefore sought clarity in sun and sand and booze and haphazard meanderings... and a strange book where some arb dude lives his life by the throw of a dice. i don't really know what i am trying to say here... i'm rambling... but i guess i must have come across as weirdly vague to the people who met me at around that time... hmmm... anyway... yeah... good times.

you're beautiful
it's true
but it's time to face the truth
i will never be with you