LOOKING OUT 2017!

Occasional Comments on the Passing Scene in 2017

Barry and Margaret Williamson

See also: Looking Out 2018,  Looking Out 2016,  Looking Out 2013, 
                    Looking Out 2012,  Looking Out 2011

December 2017 (Greece)

At the Olive Mill. We spent yesterday evening at a local olive mill (every villages has one), watching sackloads of olives (each about 50 kg with leaves, twigs, whatever, mixed in) turn into top class extra virgin oil. 20 sacks (a typical batch) weigh about one ton, and it takes about 90 minutes to produce about 150 litres of oil. This is a low figure because it's been a dry year; in a better year the yield could be over 200 kg. The price at the mill is €3.50 per kilo (say £3) and the mill keep 9% of the oil - or its equivalent price - for the processing.
 
What a wonderful ending to all the hard work of getting the olives off the trees, into the sacks and down to the mill in the first place! Then you just hang about and wait to see how much oil you get! This isn't the sort of oil that is ever going to find itself on sale in a supermarket.

The Village of Finikounda in the far southwest of the Peloponnese has a small harbour for fishing boats, and seven roads leading up into a network of lanes linking numerous tiny villages among the surrounding hills and valleys. We were married in Methoni, in sight of its Venetian Castle, 6 miles along the coast. This is where we enjoy traffic-free cycling and walking, regaining fitness simply as a consequence rather than an aim, just being here.

Winter Weather. The weather remains good; rather too dry for some orchardists whose olives, oranges, lemons and grapefruit are slow to come to fruition. There was a recent period of spectacular thunderstorms, with lightning shows out over the sea, but this soon passed and the earth quickly dries under the Mediterranean sun.

Winter Quarters. We moved into our 2-room, en-suite, sea-view apartment at the end of a 6,215-mile (9,950-km), 15-country, 4-month motorhome journey from the UK. It was arranged on a handshake with local fisherman Kostas and we pay him the required cash whenever we decide to leave. He lives here with his German partner, Iris, and their seven cats. Free cake for us last week, as it was Kostas's father's 97th birthday! 1.5 litres of free olive oil have also come our way, fresh from the family grove and the local mill! For more, we have to empty another plastic water bottle.

Car Hire in Greece. The £10 a day hire car, a newish Nissan Pulsar (we ordered a Ford Focus), arrived after free delivery from Pylos about 14 miles away. It was driven by the head of the family business (Adonis Kassimiotis) and the deal was sealed by his daughter Aleftheria (= 'Freedom') with a gentle handshake, in contrast with that from the grizzled Kostas. The Greek rental form required only one signature and that resting on the car's bonnet out in the road. Again, we will pay cash when we decide to return the car.

This is Where We Belong. This is a country where the strictures and the competitiveness of capitalism just don't work because the people have knowingly rejected all the commensurate stress and lack of trust. They put their faith in their family and its network of contacts. People in the UK are trapped in systems designed not for them, but by and for capitalism. They live in a simulation of reality with false hopes, exploited ambitions and the delusions of choice. Brexit is happening only because capitalism of its nature rejects its own regulation and demands limitless expansion.

Brexit. The 'democratic will' of the 65 million 'British People' to leave the EU has been 'expressed' in a fixed referendum by 17 million (26%) of their least qualified and least well-informed members. So, the other 48 million had better get used to it. Or do something about it before it is too late ...

On Christmas Day we cycled to Methoni and sat outside the café by the Venetian Castle, drinking hot chocolate with nibbles and listening to the festive music from the bar ('Let it Snow, Let it Snow, Let it Snow') - in bright sunshine, wearing shorts! After cycling back through the hill village of Evangelismos we lunched on delicious cream of reindeer soup (bought in Finland - how could we?!) and Margaret's Christmas cake.

The Greek Christmas is very low key, which suits us well. Can't think of anywhere we'd rather be. No cards or presents - apart from gifts of oranges, mandarins, lemons and grapefruit, and olive oil from Iris and Kostas (the apartment  owners) from their orchards, and a calendar from Zoe, Margaret's Dentist in Methoni. All three are involved with the local animal welfare society, caring for stray cats. We have our own black kitten to care for (Sooty) and will eventually leave him in good hands. The fruit supplies us with fresh juice every morning - and plenty over to make a year's supply of marmalade.

Governing the USA. Comparatively, the US is in a better place than the UK. They have checks and balances in their legal system, in the effectiveness of their senators and members of congress (only one real success for Trump in a year), in their devolution of power to States, in a written constitution, in a free press and a real freedom of speech, etc. In the UK we have almost none of that, allowing a small group of right-wingers to seize power and wield it entirely to their own ends. There is almost no opposition, despite the utter absurdity of what is happening.
 
Governing the UK. However long the Tories last in the UK, the damage they are doing will last for generations. It will be a permanent imprint on almost every aspect of life in the UK. And yet their only achievement so far is to propose changing back the colour of the British Passport to blue! This is so that immigration and customs officers in other countries (starting with France) can pick us out at once for special treatment as foreigners!
 
Governing the Greeks. Since the glorious days of Ancient Greece, the country has been successively occupied for over 2,000 years by the Romans, the Vandals, the Slavs, the Crusaders, the Venetians, the Turks, the Germans (along with the Italians and the Bulgarians). The people still behave as if they were occupied: despising the government (ignoring most of their laws), despising the police (who they rightly don't trust), avoiding all forms of taxation (since they appear to get nothing for it), actively supporting strong trade unions, etc. The government tries to exert its ineffective authority through a corrupt bureaucracy staffed entirely by nepotism.
 
Life Goes On. The Greeks get on with life as they define it, focused on the family and the traditions and rituals of the Orthodox Church (to whom Christmas is of little account). The so-called financial crisis was caused by over-lending to Greeks from French and German banks at the time of the 2004 Athens Olympics. It is these same banks who are pushing the hardest through the ECB to get their money back, making it quite natural to resist.
 
Where are We? We think of Greece as being outside Europe and about a third of the way to India, distinct from Western Europe in almost every way. And we love India even more!

Cycling in Israel and the Palestinian Territory. In the year 2000 (can it really be so long ago?) we cycled from Haifa round Israel and Palestine. We especially remember the Burger King which saved our lives in Nazareth (where everything else was closed); the Youth Hostel on the Sea of Galilee; riding right round the Sea of Galilee on Margaret's birthday, the hotel in Jericho with a portrait of Yasser Arafat who had stayed there; the Jordan Valley and Dead Sea; Bethlehem and the Church of the Nativity; and of course Jerusalem and its many religious sites. Sadly that city still remains a focus for war and dispute, when it should symbolise the co-existence of different faiths.

Timing Solstices. Have a nice Winter Solstice: it looks like it will happen in Huddersfield tomorrow at 16.27 GMT when you will have a minimum day length of 7 hours, 26 minutes and 33 seconds. This will have grown to a maximum of 17 hours and 4 minutes by 21 June 2018. For us, here in southern Greece, the minimum length of day tomorrow is 9 hours 37 minutes and 4 seconds, growing to only 14 hours 42 minutes and 27 seconds by 21 June 2018. For more of this, click here.

An Aware Sun. Our good friend Lisi believes that the sun has consciousness (or personal awareness) and can decide for itself when it stops travelling south and starts to come back our way.

Ionion Beach is certainly the most spacious Greek campsite we know, and a firm favourite of ours for over 20 years. As you have found (for example, at Corinth) there are not many sites here that can accommodate a 34-footer! Apart from Triton II, and perhaps Gythion Bay, there isn't much choice.

Getting to Greece. We have taken many different routes to and from Greece, both overland and via ferries to Italy. Our recent journey, following a summer in Scandinavia, was through the Baltic Republics, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania, Serbia and Bulgaria. We have also motorhomed through Albania in both directions in the past, and we may well return that way in the spring. You need to be aware that the roads are not always good through countries like Albania and that there are very few campsites, perhaps making it more suitable for motorhomes than for towing a caravan. You will need to buy some 3rd party vehicle insurance at the borders of those countries not covered by your existing insurance (eg Montenegro, Albania and Macedonia). Extra insurance is no longer necessary in Serbia, which also has an excellent new motorway running right through Belgrade.  

The Life of the Nomad. (Note to a person on an extended guided tour of South America) We are sure that the appellation 'Nomad' does not apply when you are travelling with a self-selected group of equally affluent strangers in the back of a luxury truck, staring out at the passing human zoo of some of the poorest and most oppressed people on the planet. True nomads travel in family or tribal groups in search of food for themselves and their animals, often moving backwards and forwards with the seasons. Nomads don't sell their home to travel for the fun of it during expensive holidays, neither do they pass the responsibility for their movements to other strangers who do it for the money. Have you measured the size of your carbon footprint recently?

Oases. We continue much as we chose to do 23 years ago when we first began full-time travel. The motorhome runs well, the bikes run well and we live, walk and pedal well. Along the way, we have formed good relationships in numerous 'oases', places throughout Europe (and Australia, New Zealand and the USA) where we have paused for a while, as now. One such oasis was created for us on the Isle of Skye where, this year, a couple we first met in the far north of Queensland have just bought a cottage and a double croft on the north-east shore of Loch Dunvegan. To the north one can see the Outer Isles, to the south the Cuillins and across the loch the Castle. A wonderful place just to be.

Memories of Hong Kong. Whilst in Thailand, we made a short trip to Hong Kong thanks to Gulf Airways and the Panda Hotel in Kowloon. The plane circled for half an hour over the airport out on Lantou Island, waiting for fog to clear, the passengers comforted with readings from the Koran over the loudspeakers. Hong Kong was pure nostalgia for Barry, looking (largely in vain) for traces of his RAF National Service life there as a raw 18-year-old. Sadly, out at Kai Tak on the edge of Kowloon City, under Lion Mountain, the RAF runway and all the buildings had disappeared under high-rise apartments! The RAF's 7-day flight out to Hong Kong was a great experience; the return to the UK was a 2-week cruise in a troop ship. So, be grateful for your 12-hours or less in the air and enjoy the jet lag.

November 2017 (Serbia, Bulgaria, Greece)

Dear Mr Themis Vasilopoulos: “Thank you very much for the excellent work yesterday on our Ford Transit Campervan. We are very grateful to you and to your staff for the skill and the speed with which you all work. We are particularly impressed by the way in which they repaired the awning (tente) on the motorhome, which was damaged as we were entering Serbia from Romania. We first met you in July 2004 when you repaired a transmission fluid pipe on our Ford E350 American motorhome. You have also serviced our present motorhome three times: November 2014, February 2016 and now.
 
We thank you again, we congratulate you on the achievement of your business and, as a father, you must be very proud of your daughters growing into successful professionals.”

The Family Fligos. We're now at Camping Ionion Beach (on the mainland opposite Zakynthos), an old haunt of ours going back 20 years and more. Family Fligos still own and run it, but the two brothers have fallen out and the site is now divided into two unequal parts by what is known to the Germans as the Berlin Wall. But what an amazing amount of good investment there has been on both sides!

All the Senses. We are settled in the southern Peloponnese, smelling, tasting, touching, seeing and hearing the Mediterranean sun, sea and culture.

The Wonders of the EU. We arrived here in northern Greece yesterday, having passed through Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania, Serbia and Bulgaria. Admiring along the way all the many ways in which they continue to throw off their dreadful 50-year histories of occupation, oppression and exploitation by successive Fascist and Communist regimes. While the English Brexiteers look smugly on from a safe distance, concerned only with maintaining their own privileges.

Kromidovo Reviewed. Camping Kromidovo (aka Krummy Dovo) in Bulgaria is very near the border with Greece. John and Sara run the place, currently helped by a young couple from the Netherlands/Canada, although what there is to do here (apart from being pretentious) defeats us. There is the usual Bulgarian house turned into a Manchester Suburban Villa (that's where John comes from, with a leaning towards Liverpool), with a small scruffy garden pretending to be a campsite.

What makes this place amusing/get-us-out-of-here is their pretension towards eco-friendliness (if that is the right hyphenated phrase). This adds up to camper-unfriendliness (that is the right hyphenated phrase). The toilet is so eco-friendly that it can't be used by mere mortals like us with our most useful accessory – the toilet cassette. Grey water is re-cycled and therefore to be minimised, and rubbish must be sorted into categories for the Bulgarian dustmen to mix up again. Their 5 dogs (plus one tied up next door) make bull mastiffs seem quite cuddly, but they are quite naturally eco-fertilising the ground.

The 5 km to get to the site/sight from the main (Sofia to Thessaloniki) road is a nightmare, on a par with the worst we have seen anywhere. We were advised to ignore our satnav through this and two preceding villages. Instead, we were to follow the vague signs (two triangles drawn on a bit of wood) nailed up at crucial turns that we wouldn't otherwise have dreamt of taking with our until-then-cared-for motorhome! More hyphens. This is the place for hyphenations. We only visited out of curiosity which, as you know, killed the cat.

Camping Sakar Hills. (Note to Martin, its owner-manager-creator). “It is very strange to be in Bulgaria and not be in the far south-eastern corner, on our way to/from Greece and/or Turkey. What a lot of memories we have of people and places we met through you and through being there. We wonder what has happened to the Weavers, the Wilsons, the Kiwis, Matt's various and varying girl/women friends, Bob, Derek and Babs, Mervyn and your neighbour, Stefka, to mention but a few.”

October 2017 (Estonia, Latvia, Lithusnia, Poland, Slovakia, Hungary, Romania)

Reassurance. Reply to a query: “Many thanks for writing and may we reassure you at once that we are fine and still on the road and fully engaged with the same old lifestyle, motorhoming and cycling. This year (2017) we have travelled in France, Spain, Portugal, Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland, England, The Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Estonia, Latvia, Lithuania and now Poland. Tomorrow we cross the Tatra Mountains into Slovakia and then Hungary and so through the Balkans into Greece for the winter. All in that order.”

Break In and Break Down. Reply to a query: “We are very sad and concerned to learn of your problems, which you seem to have ridden with some aplomb. As you would. So far (looks for some wood to rouch) we have never had any attempts at a break-in, although we did have two rides on the back of a breakdown truck with a Sprinter van we once had pulling a caravan. Once in Bellinzona at Christmas in the Swiss-Italian Alps and once in Slovenia when we were also repaired in Ljubljana. We hope that you are well and not deterred from further travel. Have a look at our Pictures and Articles on the subject of security.”

Excuse for not Replying. Reply to an email: “As for your Australian friends, we copy their email below. To be honest (as we try to be) we thought that it was just silly. All the stuff they asked for and much more is on the website, which is why we had a website to put stuff on. Particularly the places in Greece open in the winter, etc. Nowhere on the website do we offer to answer queries, although we do if they are sensible and within reason. On the whole, we have other things to do.”

Old Friends and Fellow Travellers. Reply to and email: “So, again, thanks for writing. We have lots of lovely memories of time spent with you and with our exchange of emails, which were very worthwhile and you reciprocated with 5 articles which are still there for all to read. That's what the website is all about - sharing.”

Restricting Numbers Entering the Isle of Skye. Good news that the tourist tide is ebbing. We read of a proposal to tax motorhomes coming on to the island: we would go further and ban all non-commercial vehicles over 3.5 tons and tax motorhomes up to 3.5 tons. We would also make it compulsory that motorhomes stayed in designated areas and paid (say) £20 a night for the privilege. This way they would be (a) deterred from coming and (b) bring some money into the local economy. Another idea is to make the motorhomes use the ferry at a hefty charge and have only two sailings a day. In other words, motorhomes are becoming a pestilence with little value to the islanders, rather like the plagues that affect Australia now and then.
 
Here are three Guardian articles directly on this subject: One, Two, Three.
 
In Southern Poland. Here we are at 2,500 ft (750 metres) in Poland's ski centre of Zakopane. We abut the Tatra Mountains to the south, which also form the border with Slovakia: a border we will cross in a day or two. The Tatras rise to 2655 m (8,761 ft) and it's already snowing up there. They are an extension of the Carpathian Mountains, which stretch east and then south through Romania. Wonderful country! Crossing borders and crossing mountain passes are at the heart of travel and it is very special when they are combined as here (and throughout the Alps and Pyrenees).
 
Halfway to Greece. Southern Poland is perhaps half way from the top of Finland to the bottom of Greece and, so far, the journey has gone well and in no little way thanks to our trusty (don't lose the 't' at the beginning of that word) Ford Transit. Our old friend Glaswegian Dan is now settled into his regular spot on the south coast of Sicily, having got down there yet again with one usable arm and one usable leg and a regular supply of Vodka and Fizzy Lemonade. We may even meet him next year, after Greece.

Marquis Motorhomes Strike Again. Writing to an angry customer: "What a shocking story that just goes on and on . . . and still it continues. We will certainly put your story on our website and make it a separate feature, but linked to all the other Marquis horror stories. Your chronological sequence is very effective and fully speaks for itself."

Primeval Forest. We are in that corner of northeast Poland, near the Belarus border, where the primeval forest is home to bison, elk, deer, lynx and wild boar. Formerly a hunting zone for Tsars (the bison were hunted to extinction by 1919 and had to be re-introduced), it was attacked and occupied alternately by the Russians, the Germans and the Russians again between 1939 and 1944. Thousands of Poles were killed and whole villages burned.
 
At peace and peaceful (thank you NATO and the EU), it is now the Białowieża National Park and World Heritage Site, with bicycle-friendly trails through the forest. As well as running wild, the animals can also be safely seen in an enclosed reserve.

Who Were the Leavers? This area has been well researched since the referendum, as many people (grown-ups) have been intrigued to know why anyone would vote to leave the EU! It is now clear and obvious that the 'leave' voters in the EU referendum did not represent the great British Public. Rather they came from a very specific (and predictable) sector: older, retired, white, male, in the lowest socio-economic categories, unemployed or not in work, living in areas of industrial decay, unqualified or with lower qualifications, living in rented social housing, readers of the tabloid press, Tory rather than Labour – you get the picture.

Other factors include the lies told to (and believed by) the above sector (fear of immigrants, lots more money for the NHS, a great future global trading nation, freedom from control by the bureaucrats of Brussels, etc). It didn't help that the question asked in the referendum was a simple yes/no when the matter was of enormous complexity with far-reaching implications and consequences, as we are now discovering. It tempted the nihilist to reject the EU without having to consider any alternative, since none was offered and none is still evident.

Further, no prior controls were specified for the required size of the 'majority' in the referendum. In other countries it can be 60%, and this can be a percentage of those entitled to vote, whether they did or not. Only 62% of those eligible to vote did so, and so the leave vote of 17.1 million represents only 32% of those who were eligible to vote.

Finally, the Tories keep quoting 'the democratic will of the British People' as expressed in the referendum to justify persisting in leaving the EU. They do this because their real reason for wanting to leave would be very much against the (as yet unexpressed) will of the British People: the establishment of a Singapore-type, low-tax, low-pay, free-trading economy. Forcing the further privatisation of state-owned assets (like the NHS), opening up British industry and agriculture to uncontrolled foreign competition and creating a large pool of the unemployed, keen to work under any circumstances. Undiluted Capitalism.

There is still time for leavers to change their minds, undo the harm they have done and put pressure on parliament to vote to stay in the EU. They have until March 2019 to do so! The UK is or was the 5th largest economy in the world after more than 40 years of EU membership – what more do they want? At the moment, after the referendum, our GDP rate of growth is the lowest in the G7 and the value of the pound has fallen by a sixth.

Camping at the Manor House. This camping is in a field behind a hotel which was once a manor house, one of many in this part of Estonia. They date from the days of German occupation in the 18th and 19th centuries. Rather like the Normans in England, the Germans took large estates, built country houses, set up farms so that the peasants could work the land and gave themselves titles like Baron or Lord. We still have our aristocracy and their estates; the Russians, who occupied the Baltic Republics after the Germans, used the estates as places for party officials. Now the manor houses are mainly in state ownership or turned into hotels. The land has been divided up and is being worked by independent farmers.

In Estonia. Today, we have moved about 50 miles east along the north coast of Estonia and are now only about 35 miles short of the Russian Border. The road we used, Highway 1, is the main route to St Petersburg and it's sad that we can't easily make that visit! So it's south we go.

An Estonian Idyll. Driving another but very different 50 miles east along Estonia's northern coast (towards the Russian border) we have arrived at one of our favourite oases: the Kohvikann (or coffee pot) Restaurant in a vanishingly small village called Palmse. This is our third visit to meet Dieter and Julia: he is a German master-chef with international experience; she is Russian from St Petersburg (not too far away) and a trained interpreter. They met in St Petersburg at the hotel where they both worked, came on holiday to this coastal National Park and decided to build an exceptional restaurant in this remote place about 10 years ago. They included a few places with electricity supply, to park a motorhome or a caravan, one of which we first used in 2009. The restaurant is cosy and the menu a real treat. Two years ago they added a small building with first class toilet and shower facilities in two private rooms – all for €15 a night. The last place we stayed in Finland, in Lahti about 60 miles north of Helsinki, charged €31 for a night on a crowded and scruffy site, with limited facilities and no WiFi. We didn't linger there!

Ferry from Finland to Estonia. Last Sunday we crossed the Baltic from Helsinki to Tallinn, 50 miles in 2 hours, on a ferry built around shops and a supermarket largely selling chocolate, perfume and alcohol in all their many manifestations. Most of the passengers were travelling by bus between the two capital cities and obviously enjoying the chance to buy things that were either in short supply or expensive or both in their respective countries. So much so that there were few places to actually sit down except in the bar, with live loud entertainment.  In the old days, we used to see Finns using wheelbarrows to carry their duty-free alcohol onto the ferry back to Helsinki! Now they sell trolleys for the purpose in the ship's supermarket!

Autumn in Finland. Sadly the weather is now turning cold and wet, so it's time to follow the skeins of geese and cranes that are flying south overhead. Talking of birds, in which we've become very interested, we were intrigued to see a Crested Tit on the trunk of a fir tree outside our motorhome window in northern Finland. The European Birds book says they hide seeds in the bark of trees to provide winter food. But how do they find the seeds again, given the millions of trees in the pine forests? And how to store enough for months of snow cover? Amazing!

Marquis Motorhome Complaints by the Hundred. We have also just published the survey we did last February into complaints about Marquis that have appeared in motorhome forums and elsewhere. It comes to about 13,500 words and makes painful reading: it is amazing that Marquis are still in business! A comment we made about them on Caravan Times was removed by the editor, who told us it was libel. We replied that to be a libel you had to prove that it was based on a lie. So he was being libellous in accusing us of libel!

Hessle Road in Hull Remembered in Song. Last week Radio 4 broadcast a 30-minute programme based on memories of Hessle Road in Hull, entirely from the words and songs of people who remembered the days of the major fishing industry based on the docks of west Hull. This is an area where Barry's mother, Doris, grew up, and although her family were not involved in fish, they lived in the densely packed terraced housing off the Hessle Road. The songs in the programme are new to Barry but reminded Margaret of songs among the steel workers of Sheffield. Perhaps all the large groups of manual workers (ship-builders, mill workers, railwaymen, dockers, miners, etc) had songs like these, which disappeared along with their industries post-Thatcher.

It is also interesting to hear the Hull accent, which is a bit Yorkshire but also strongly influenced by Hull's contact with the sea and centuries of trade with the low countries: Belgium and Holland. The city was once quite isolated, cut off by water to the east and the south and with 60 miles to the nearest large cities – Leeds to the west and Middlesbrough to the north.

September 2017 (Sweden, Finland)

Easternmost in the EU. Two days past the Autumn Equinox and we are still in the northeast of Finland, lost in the country's limitless coniferous forest, travelling among its 187,888 lakes. Tomorrow we aim to revisit the easternmost point of the mainland EU, in a Finnish salient which pushes out into Russia.

As Far Away as Possible. Hattuvaara: in Finland further east than Istanbul or Cairo, there we hope to be as far away as possible from the machinations of the deluded right wing of the Tory party, negotiating only within itself. As few as 17.1 million of Britain's 65 million people may have been tricked into voting against membership of the EU in June last year. They sure as Hell didn't know what they were voting for. Now, 459 days later, even Mrs May doesn't know what the future holds for our country.

The Reaction of Foreigners. Fortunately, people we have met this summer in the Netherlands, Germany, Denmark, Sweden and now Finland, have lost interest in 'Brexit'. The initial shock and the amazement have turned into disgust and derision. The subject doesn't rate a mention in conversation or on their TV screens, but we notice that other motorhomers and caravanners do give us more space when we park up for the night! Perhaps they don't want us to see them laughing at our misfortune.

On the Road Again. We are doubly pleased to be back on the road after spending four weeks in England, through June and into July. Our overall intention now is to follow the retreating sun, as Autumn progresses down to Helsinki, across the Baltic to Tallinn, through Estonia, Latvia and Lithuania into Poland, remorselessly south through Slovakia, Hungary and the Balkans and so into Greece. You could say that we are exercising our European right to freedom of movement, while we may (oh, not that word again).

Out of the Arctic. We crossed the Arctic Circle coming south yesterday, into the realm occupied by larger trees and more but lesser mortals. What a vast empty magical world it is up there, beyond the Wall. How splendid to have the SatNav inform 'destination 160 km' and 'next turn 159 km' and all on traffic-free roads, just dodging the occasional reindeer or two. We can begin to think that we really belong, that this world of trees and lakes is all ours.

Heading South. Writing of 'up here', we have just calculated that we are still about 3,000 miles by road from Finikounda, but we should make it by Christmas. We will regret leaving the fascination of Europe's Arctic Regions. They draw us in the summer (away from the madding crowds), as strongly as Greece does in the winter. If the seasons didn't change, we would probably remain in one or the other!
 
Meeting in Ireland. Hopefully, and being aware of the laps of the gods (or should that be 'lapse'?), we will meet again on our return to England via Ireland next spring, keeping up another tradition that has become an integral part of our yearly cycle of life. Unless, and in contravention of the will of the gods, coincidence might intervene, which means we might meet anywhere and at any time.

Over the Top. Margaret had a novel campsite washing machine experience yesterday: it got stuck part way through the 40 degree wash cycle and the temperature just kept going up and up and up. When Margaret returned to see how things were going, the water was boiling and the building was full of steam! It's an old machine seemingly from a laundrette which was bankrupted in the early 1960's, but plucky Margaret managed to turn it off. But then the machine door wouldn't open. And Reception didn't open until 8 pm (yes, that's 2000 hours). However, theoretical physicist Barry managed to edge a broken switch (with a broken nail) round to what hopefully translated from Finnish as 'rinse' and it was started again with another euro coin.
 
Compensation. There was yet another skill to be deployed: at 2025 hours Margaret negotiated a free night in compensation, something worth 20 euros. This was a net profit of 19 euros on the day, at the cost of crumpled laundry and two grey items (dressing gown and shirt) which had started out cream (blame the dye in the duvet covers).

On a Finnish River. We are currently in the village of Muonio, camped by the broad River Muonio which forms the long border between Finland and Sweden. We are in Finland but can see Sweden across the river, easily and freely accessed over a bridge about a mile away. We've driven some 250 miles north and east since we crossed the Arctic Circle near Jokkmokk, the Sami capital of Swedish Lapland. The Sami are the indigenous people of the region, about a third of whom still herd reindeer.
 
The Moving Circle. Today we arrived on the Arctic Circle, about 5 km before the Sami town of Jokkmokk. There's just a café by the road with paid overnight parking including a hook-up, supposedly right on the Arctic Circle. Unfortunately, it's moved about 1 km north (the Earth has wobbled a bit). Tourist objects aren't supposed to move; it makes it too awkward for people trying to run a café! But wouldn't it be good if a popular lighthouse moved a few miles away, perhaps well out to sea. Followed by all the tourists.

Camp Route 45, Hammerdal, in the Centre of Sweden. Email to James and Julie: “Thanks so much for another great stay on your campsite and a memorable last night and send-off this morning. We enjoyed the fruits of your forest - the Chanterelles (aka Pfifferling in German!) went very well with bacon & eggs, and we've made 4 jars of lingonberry/blueberry jam this morning with berries gleaned behind your campsite.”

Kolgardens Camping in Vilhelmina. By early evening a sign went up at the campsite entrance 'Stugorna Fullsatta' - but there are only 9 of them, all de-luxe with en-suite, kitchen, TV etc. Doubtless very expensive. Also 22 camper places at SEK 250, which includes good WiFi (continuous with no password), electricity, access to a tipi and use of the services building. This contains a sitting room, a dining room with log fire and TV, and a large fully equipped kitchen. There are 3 amply-sized self-contained bathrooms, each with shower, WC and basin, and 3 more separate toilets, each with hand basin - all unisex and very clean and warm.

Happiness. The downside is the morose owner (of Kolgardens Camping in Vilhelmina), who only appears to collect the money! There is no Reception, just a telephone outside the services building to ring on arrival. You are told to find a place and he will be round later for the cash (his card machine is not working!) There is an honesty box in the laundry (SEK 25 for wash and SEK 25 for dry) and another by the fridge and freezer with ice creams and drinks. When we came previously at a busier time of year, he was around organising where and how we should park, none too politely.

Dead Capercaillie. Some of the occupied Stugas sport a game bag hanging on their verandah with the head of a capercaillie sticking out of the top. Makes us angry - a bird of the forest that can survive on pine needles in winter. They have been reintroduced to Scotland after being hunted to extinction there. If only they could shoot back!

August 2017 (Germany, Denmark, Sweden)

What Time is It? Hur mycket är klockan? as they say round here in Sweden when they want to know the time.

Dutch in Sweden. We are now tempted to stay at Ange en route – this would be our third Dutch-owned campsite in a row, something of a record since we left the Netherlands!

July 2017 (England, Netherlands)

Change of Nationality. Margaret, who hopes that her roots are emerald green, is still seeking proof of being at least a quarter Irish and therefore a dual passport holder. Although, somehow, we feel that the nightmare of Brexit is slowly fading as the first dawning of the cold light of reason begins to illuminate that which has been obfuscated for the dim-witted and ill-educated! That is, the Great British People are waking up to the con, and they are learning to say 'enough'. This way, they may also detect that there are many other cons about, many deriving from the word 'cons-ervative'!

Finding the Escape Route. Any longer in England and we were in danger of joining the great lumpen masses, sunk into their own self-satisfied fa(s)tness, with all the reactions to external stimuli of road kill! The very definition of 'insensate'. However, July has seen us on the road again, aiming for a big arc across northern Europe towards the Baltic Republics, south along the EU's eastern borders and through the Balkans and so back into . . . Greece!

In Cyclist's Heaven. We are now staying for a while on our third visit to this Dutch campsite in recent years, aiming to retrieve some of our lost cycling fitness with a leisurely re-introduction to the network of cycle paths in the surrounding De Hoge Veluwe National Park. This is a large area of gentle hills and extensive forest, unusual in a country known for its lowness and flatness. Like the rest of the Netherlands, where cycle paths exceed roads in length and greenness, dedicated cafés along the way serve deserving riders with Appelkoeken met Slagroom (apple tart with whipped cream) along with strong coffee and a biscuit. Just to be among so many other cyclists is miracle enough: our bicycle bells have never stopped ringing.

Excellent Service. The motorhome continues to run very well indeed, with a brand-new service and MOT from Dick Lane in Bradford, 365-day EU-wide insurance from Safeguard and a road fund licence from the government. The bikes were little used in the UK, too frightened to go out onto overcrowded roads among uncaring drivers, although their maker, Paul Hewitt in Leyland, has given them his usual service, ready for more welcoming countries. Let us hope that we are worthy of all this munificence.

Changing Romania. We first visited Arad in the late 1980's during the Ceausescu days, cycling from the UK to Istanbul. The few shops were literally empty and people were begging from us; what a change to today with vineyards and supermarkets and campsites. How wonderful is the EU, of which we should be proud to be a member!

Looking Ahead. As to the future we stumble on, increasingly aware that age brings a reduction in energy and commitment, but not in ambition. Although we talk about it fully and frankly, and although we looked at buying a 'holiday home' (36 ft by 12 ft) on a campsite near Pocklington on the Yorkshire Wolds, we still await the 'end of days' without a plan but hopefully with capability. Ironically, we own both a house and an inherited flat but it takes months to remove tenants should we need a home.

Escape. We have finally escaped from England on the Stena ferry from Harwich to the Hook of Holland. What a relief! Re-energised, we have turned our attention back to writing and adding new material to MagBazTravels and MagBazPictures.

Iceland Polluted. Email to Paul & Sheila Barker: “Thank you for sharing with us what Iceland has meant to you, so far into your journey. The mixture of unsullied splendour with that vandalised by mass tourism is far too common, and spreading like a cancer.”

Losing Oneself. Independent travellers by motorhome and/or bicycle, perhaps alone, have the ability (often unused) to seek out places as yet undiscovered by the hordes. The ability to get lost in a creative way:

      Only when you are lost
      can you find yourself
       . . . in unknown places

News from Koroni. The Koroni News is written and published by Kostas, the retired sea captain who runs a souvenir shop in Koroni and also organises the annual Koroni Art Festival. The town has a fishing harbour, castle and a nunnery. The snippets in English within the News give a wonderful view of the Greek way of life and Kostas's sardonic view of it. He has much to complain about – his pension had been reduced 9 times when we met him, and the flat he had bought to bring in some money from rent was making a loss. It turned out that he had to pay tax on the rent, even when there wasn't a tenant! We think that his souvenir shop is just a front; it is really a meeting ground for all his mates, fellow conspirators and artists. We certainly enjoyed the coffee on our visits.

Dear old Greece. Like a slightly worn old friend.
 
Gardening. Writing to a friend: “The garden has become your world, to make of as you will. How few have that privilege. On the other hand, we make the world our garden!”

Memories of Camping Thines. Writing to its owner: Many thanks for your email. It is really good to hear from you and how nice that you remember us from so many years ago. We first stayed at Camping Thines at Easter in 2003, and several times after that. We have many happy memories of being there, of getting to know Despina, Yanni and Takis. And all those great cycle rides we did, including round the Mani and out to Leonidas and back via Kosmas.

Freedom to Roam in Scotland. Answer to an emails: “Thanks you for your email and your useful correction to our interpretation of Scotland's Right to Roam. The offending line has been removed: it was a much too optimistic extension of the increased freedom for motorhomes to park overnight in laybys!”

Going to Leyland. Our 'plans' are to move to Ribchester tomorrow (Sunday) for a couple of nights, thus enabling us to take the bikes to Paul Hewitt in Leyland on Monday morning when he has to fit two new middle chain rings, each of 32 teeth. Since the Morrisons shop in Leyland has a very large car park, we can also take the opportunity to reload the larder, a feat not attempted since Bridlington, after what will be nineteen days. In practice, the only thing we have actually run out of is bedtime drinking chocolate – just one weak mugful each is left.

June 2017 (Scotland, England)

To the Camping and Caravan Club. “I am afraid the experience will deter me from using Club sites in the future. A price of £27.25 per night for the Senior Concession Rate is ridiculous – including useless WiFi. I understand that wardens are paid only a basic wage, for the limited hours they are available, so I do wonder where the profit goes?
 
I am currently on an excellent privately-owned site at Pocklington, with brand new toilet/shower block, charging tourers £16 for the first night and £14.40 for subsequent nights, including hard standing, showers and hook-up. No annual club fee either. Admittedly, there is no WiFi - because they can't guarantee a reliable signal, they don't offer it (a more sensible approach). Either the owner or one of the four assistant wardens is available at any time. How is it that your Club charges Senior members almost twice as much per night, yet claims to be non-profit making?
 
A lot needs to change before you can claim to be The Friendly Club.”

On the Front. We did manage to travel the full length (7 miles) of Blackpool's Golden Beaches, Pleasure Gardens and the ironically-named Amusements. Behind all this is one of the poorest towns in the realm with unemployment, drugs and premature deaths. No wonder they voted to leave – not that they understood what they were leaving, they just wanted to leave. And so we left.

Advice to a Scotsman. Please stop electing Tories! Without you bloody-minded Scots, wreaking your revenge, the Tories would be out on their ears by now, rather than next week or so ...

Another Letter to America. Thank you for your emails and keeping us in touch with developments in the US of A. We sincerely wish that we had a resistance movement in this country as active as yours. And as likely of success as you are. With your constitution, balanced politics, legal system and highly-educated population, you will win. We have none of those and we feel that all is lost. The lunatics have taken over the parliamentary asylum and are likely to be voted back in again this coming week, such is the power of the right-wing propaganda machine.
 
Return to Blighty. We have returned to England from Portugal via Spain, France, Ireland (South and North) and Scotland. The latter gave us an idyllic 8 days on the Isle of Skye (always a centre of resistance to English occupation of their country) with 2 friends we used to visit in Australia's Queensland.

Greek Law Banning Free Camping. There are such laws but we have never heard of them being used, not even as a threat. Judging by the quality of the English in the sign (quite good) we guess that it is not official. It may well have come from the guy who owns the nearby campsite on the beach (Camping Methoni). It used to be a run-down municipal site, but was bought by Kostas (who else?) who owns the supermarket on the high street. It could be an empty threat to make people use his campsite. If it has been duplicated (so he can use it regularly) that would also point to him. It is also likely that Kostas would know the law, having had to use it to register his campsite.
 
Over the Sea to Skye. Here we are after arriving from Cairnryan (on a ferry from Ireland) via Loch Lomond, Glencoe and Fort William. Our friends from Australia have a cottage, 12 acres of croft and magnificent views across Loch Dunvegan. And enough space to park a motorhome with a connection to the National Grid. If we didn't have to get back to Huddersfield to sort out house and other problems, we would happily settle here awhile. Cycling is limited to local single-track roads, but there is ample scope for walking in the peninsula. A 7-mile return walk or ride over the hill leads to the nearest shop in Glendale.

Democracy at Work. We do not live in a society that can countenance proportional representation, and so most votes are just wasted and do not count towards the final result. The Tories will be returned, based on a minority of the total vote (36.9% in 2015) and they rely on the results in only about 100 marginal constituencies out of the total of 650. In the last election, the SNP returned 56 MPs from 1.5 million votes while UKIP and the Greens together returned only 2 MPs from about 5 million votes in total!

May 2017 (Ireland, Northern Ireland, Scotland)

The View from Scotland. Here we are in Bonnie Scotland after a quiet crossing from Belfast on Wednesday. Good to be back on the largest of the British Isles, if only because it means that our next ferry will take us off it! But enough of that. Best leave what is happening in England as simply 'unbelievable'. And not least because we have had a taste of how it looks from the Republic of Ireland, Northern Ireland and now here in Scotland. Their word for the play would be 'loony' along with all its main actors.

Borderless Zone. We crossed from the Republic of Ireland into Northern Ireland without even knowing it, so open is the border. There were signs, in that the speed limit dropped from 50 to 30, distances decreased by a factor of 5 divided by 8 and the pound replaced the euro (with a falling and failing exchange rate).

Fair Exchange. The Scots are reluctant to take Northern Irish £20 notes, while giving us the Scottish fivers in change? This existential crisis got the Manager out of her office at Asda in Dumbarton!

Finding a Place. The world spins on regardless and we petty mortals must seek our own place among its heaving billions!

May Flies. A photograph we took showed a swarm of mayflies directly above our motorhome on the shore of Ulster's Lough Neagh (the largest lake in the British Isles). As flies, they have up to two days in which to live; dancing, meeting and mating in the air and dying soon afterwards, the females pausing only to lay up to 3,000 eggs. Our Mrs May has not quite reached this stage in her evolution, but wait until after the election. Strong and stable in headlong flight!

We have much to learn from nature: for example the mayfly, by its very name, knows that June brings the end of May and if only it were so for us . . . . .

From the Back of a Van. Given our admittedly self-imposed way of life, we regularly find ourselves writing stuff in the back of a Ford Transit van in a corner of some foreign field and sending it out into the ether to see what happens next! It is very nice indeed to learn that someone whose knowledge, experience and intelligence we greatly respect does read it and even writes to thank us for it!
 
A Winter's Tale. We have been in central Spain (mainly in the Royal city of Aranjuez, just south of Madrid) and then in the mountains of Portugal, along its border with Spain. Then in April we travelled north, over the Pyrenees and through France to Cherbourg for an overnight ferry to the southeast corner of the Republic of Ireland. Here we are now in the far southwest of this lovely country.
 
Life on the Road. This is how we live and this is how we travel, with many a surprise and many an interaction and new learning along the way.

April 2017 (Portugal, Spain, France, Ireland)

Unsettled Home. Our Carado motorhome was built in Eastern Germany, near Leipzig, and although it is married to a right hand drive British-registered Ford Transit, it no longer feels comfortable in Britain and so wants to leave. It had thought of applying for Permanent Residency Status, but that would be a lot paperwork and cost. On the other hand, the Carado is now worried that if it does leave Britain, it may not be allowed in again!

The Craic. On the campsite and walking into Kilkenny, we interacted at some length with six people, including a Black Friar at the Dominican Abbey and Priory in the town, and the woman who sold Barry a Donegal Tweed cap. What lovely openness, with well-informed opinions coupled with a willingness to listen and respond. Almost ideal conditions for meeting fellow human beings, but rare in our experience. Kilkenny, the medieval capital of Ireland until Cromwell came to destroy it, is a town of character and characters.

Across the Channel. Email to a friend in County Cork: We arrived on your island of Ireland yesterday afternoon after a very smooth crossing from Cherbourg, having been upgraded to a cabin at the front of the ship, seeing the way forward. An unusual experience for us! The antithesis of the clew you once described leaving Greece.
 
At Home in Ireland. We are now settled nicely on the edge of Kilkenny ready to cycle in, on a warm and sunny morning after a little rain in the night. We move to Cashel tomorrow, probably via Kells, and then down to Skibbereen on Monday. How refreshing it is to chat; how fluent are the Irish!

Advice to a Caravanner. As to packing the caravan, you really don't need more than you would take for a 2-week holiday, as they do have shops on the mainland! In most countries you will find Lidl, Aldi, local markets and supermarkets, pharmacies, etc. It may be a good idea to buy maps before leaving, and stock up on any prescription medicaments you need.

Your main problem could be not what to take, but how to carry the bicycles and all the accompanying panniers, helmets, clothes, shoes, tent, etc etc in a caravan, if you tow with a car. That is why we towed with a small van that housed the bikes and cycling gear - though that brought its own problems with insurance, ferry fares, etc. So we have gone back to a motorhome, finding a model with a 'garage' ideal for the purpose, with the bikes safely stowed out of harm's way.

Looking Ahead while Sleeping on the Sea. We will be spending this Wednesday night sleeping on the ferry from Cherbourg to Rosslare in the southeast corner of the Republic of Ireland. We are going to spend some days with a friend near Skibbereen in County Cork and then take another ferry from Larne in Northern Ireland to Cairnryan in southwest Scotland. And then north to Skye and then south to Yorkshire to check on our house in Huddersfield and get an MOT and a service in Bradford. And then, by early June, another ferry to Rotterdam or thereabouts and a journey north into Scandinavia. But then, the best laid schemes o' mice an' men gang aft agley . . . . .

Lost in Delusion. Too many people we come across (we don't really 'meet') are distracted by the material values of life - money and commodities and the social media. Lost in the simulation of living that has been given to them, rather living a life in touch with its physical realities. Missing completely the simple but powerful importance of travelling under your own steam, your own body's movement and energy, on foot or by bicycle.

Democracy in the UK? The UK is the least democratic of any developed country we know. A political party can get a completely dominating majority in the House of Commons on less than 40% of the votes cast. Since perhaps less than 70% of those eligible do actually vote, that means that under 30% of the electorate support a government which nevertheless have a large parliamentary majority! Then there is the House of Lords, the establishment, the dominance of the capitalist economy, the role of the Monarchy and the Royal Prerogative from the days of Henry VIII, the absence of a written constitution, the reliance on common law, the influence of a powerful right wing press, the dominance of unelected ex-public school boys in all the major professions, the state-sponsored religion of which the Queen is the head, the weakness of local and regional government, the unrestrained activities of global organisations and USA-controlled social media, the ownership of most of our industry and utilities by foreign businesses and governments, etc, etc. Over half our railway companies are now owned by foreign governments, and the Chinese, French and Americans are building our nuclear power stations!

Democracy in Mainland Europe. Countries in the remainder of the EU use proportional representation at national, regional and local level, leading to governments that exactly reflect what the people are saying. This means that coalitions have to be formed and compromises made. EU commissioners are appointed by 28 elected governments and all new EU laws and regulations are negotiated and agreed by ministers from those 28 governments. There is also an elected European parliament which will have a crucial role to play in negotiating and agreeing Brexit.

The Writing of WG Sebald. What munificence from WG Sebald, an Aladdin's cave, a cornucopia of ideas and challenge. I have 'Rings of Saturn', 'A Place in the Country' and 'The Emergence of Memory' on my Kindle and I will move on to the Rings after Austerlitz. I'm fascinated by the effect the Rings has on you, an inveterate reader.

Sanity from Belgium. If you are in danger of becoming lost in the fog of false news, alternative facts, right wing propaganda and downright lies currently being propagated by the UK's (offshore-multi-billionaire-owned) media and their running dogs, the Tory Brexiteers, please read the sober reflections from a senior European politician at the heart of the EU's response to the madness of May. Published today in the Guardian/Observer, the former Belgian prime minister, Guy Verhofstadt, now the European parliament's Brexit co-ordinator, pulls no punches. He describes the decision to call a British election 'nonsensical', a 'Tory cat-fight', an 'attempted power grab', the 'internal machinations of the Tory party', led by an 'hysterical right wing press' unable to face the 'bitter realities of Brexit'.

“As a Belgian, I have a long-standing appreciation of surrealism. My colleague, the European council president Donald Tusk, suggested last week that the script could have been written by Alfred Hitchcock. For me, it is more akin to the unworldly art of Magritte.
 
“Come the summer of 2019, unless the (UK) government requests transitional arrangements to the contrary and these requests are agreed by all EU countries, UK citizens will have no more of a right to holiday, travel and study in EU countries than tourists from Moscow or students from Mumbai.”

The Propaganda of Brexit. Unfortunately, we know people who will not be influenced in any way by the factual, sensible and rational voices speaking to us from within the EU (that is from 27 countries in the rest of Europe). From where we are, people in England appear locked in a miasma of self-pity, nationalism and nostalgia for days that never were and therefore can never be again. Blaming 'Brussels' and 'Europe' for all their self-imposed ills, they are about to vote to turn a malady into a permanent disability.

The facts and the complexities of the situation are lost behind slogans ('Take Back Control', 'Sovereignty', 'Global Britain', 'The Will of the British People', 'Strong and Stable Leadership'), simply constructed, simply shouted and often repeated to and by simple people! For more information on this phenomenon, read Professor Richard J Evans on the techniques that destroyed democracy (the Weimar Republic) and enabled the rise of fascism in Germany in the period 1919 to 1932.

Over the Top. We crossed the Pyrenees yesterday, happy to escape the Catholic Easter frenzy of the Spanish. We used a route new to us, through the short (3 km) Biesca Tunnel after a climb to 1820 m (6,000 ft). We don't know on which side our overweight Ford Transit Carado performed the more impressively: the prolonged climb or the steep descent. Overheated engine or hot brakes? With a cool driver and passenger/navigator.

Cycling in the UK is promoted with images of multi-millionaire doped athletes winning medals against competition from third-world countries. The emphasis on speed, lycra, crash helmets and racing on overcrowded roads just leads to more deaths and injuries.  In mainland Europe, cycling is promoted by building cycling paths for everyone to ride on simple reliable bikes.

The End of the Weimar Republic. These are days much like the ones before the Third Reich was established in Germany. We are not drawing comparisons with Hitler here, that's far too much, but with the mechanisms that brought down the democratic Weimar constitution which operated in Germany between 1919 and 1932/3. The undermining of the free press, of law and the judiciary, the scapegoating of foreigners, liberals, intellectuals, socialists, giving free reign to capitalists, rearmament, constant repetition of lies, facts ignored, appealing to the ill-educated masses, etc, etc.

Portuguese Gratitude. A baker who brought bread and cakes in his van each morning to the campsite said that we English say 'thank you' too often. He said we should wait until the end like the Portuguese do and just say it once, and that way we would save a lot of time. This is obviously silly - we say 'thank you' every time it is needed which in your case is a lot!

Portuguese Idyll. Over the weekend, we started to move north through Portugal, hugging the Spanish border where the hills and the quiet lanes, the fields full of wild flowers, the olive groves, vineyards, the networks of villages, the cafes and tavernas, the friendly people, etc, etc all remind us of the Peloponnese. There are Roman sites here, and many megalithic dolmens, menhirs, necropoli and sarcophagi, redolent of early man, as well as magnificent medieval cities, castles and cathedrals from the days of Portugal's maritime power and empire. We just like quiet country lanes with a café/bar now and again, with a cup of coffee and a slice of cake. We also like the idea of 'now' and even more 'again'. Long may that be so.

Brexit as Seen from Portugal. There's been big coverage of Brexit on the TV here, taking over the news programmes on all the main channels. The note is one of sadness because Portugal has always felt close to Britain, and English has become the second language here, replacing French and Spanish. Several people we have met are self-taught in English from watching TV films and documentaries which are often in English with Portuguese subtitles. In Greece, these autodidacts have American accents; here they don't!

March 2017 (Spain, Portugal)

The Orange Troll. Sally Seymour, a friend in San Rafael just north of San Francisco, is a Californian of our generation who claims descent from Thomas Seymour, brother of Henry VIII's Jane. She is seriously shocked, as are many of her ilk, by a President she calls the 'Orange Troll'. She sympathises with our equivalent in the 'Brexiteers' and we sympathise with her. What more can we do?

Propaganda. A standard and by now familiar technique of all fascists with dictatorial ambitions (Stalin, Mao, Hitler, Mussolini, Trump, Farage) is to answer rationality, facts, reason and understanding of complexity with jibes, slogans, banners, lies and absurd calls for nationalism and patriotism. Along with this comes the vilification of foreigners or even compatriots with foreign ideas.

Letter to America. “Our hearts reach out to you and to all the very many Americans of your ilk. What a shock it must be for you. Unimaginable. Very much like the days before the Third Reich was established in Germany. We are not drawing comparisons with Hitler here, that's far too much, but with the mechanisms that brought down the democratic Weimar constitution which in operated in Germany between 1919 and 1932/3. The undermining of the free press, of law and the judiciary, the scapegoating of foreigners, liberals, intellectuals, socialists, giving free reign to capitalists, rearmament, constant repetition of lies, facts ignored, appealing to the ill-educated masses, etc, etc.”
 
Outside Looking In. What a pleasure it is to be outside of the UK in almost any of the other 27 members of the EU. Out here there is sanity, rationality, warmth, friendliness and, above all, a removal of an unremitting emphasis on nationalism, class, achievement and success.
 
Behind the Scenes. Brexit day is tomorrow and we go into mourning. There will be no end to it, just years of humiliation and retreat. There is hope for the USA in its strong constitution, laws, media. Clearly many people must be working behind the scenes hoping to set up an impeachment of the Orange Troll. With the man and his coterie gone, perhaps the menace will evaporate.

On the Border. Given what Mrs May is going to do singlehandedly on Wednesday, we thought we might celebrate Europe's open borders by taking a picture of Margaret in the village of La Fontañera, on the once closely-guarded frontier between Portugal and Spain. Margaret is resting (it's on the top of a hill) on a stone which is the only indication that there is a border. She is in two countries at once, with 'P' on the front, 'E' (España) on the back of the stone! This is truly the free movement of people, just a shuffle will do.

Free Camping? An Australian couple had already hired a motorhome for 4 months to tour the UK and Ireland, when they discovered that free camping, overnight parking, even inexpensive camping just wasn't available. Perhaps they had been reading about France, Germany, Spain, Italy, Greece, most of the rest of Europe. We pointed them at Scotland and CL's. They knew of Brit Stops but there is a membership fee (£27), stays are only for one night and there is an obligation to buy a meal or a drink or something.
 
Dick Lane Motors and Brit Stops. We got the Brit Stops book and sticker free in 2013 in its early days after we had given it a mention. One of the few unsolicited perks we have had, or even fewer solicited ones, since we don't solicit. We didn't renew it but have used the book once or twice since; once after getting off the ferry at Cairnryan. One very good unintended consequence of using it was finding that Dick Lane Motorhomes in Bradford offered a free overnight with hook-up and internet. So we spent one night there, en passant. Impressed by the service foreman, Kevin, and the owner, Stephen, we arranged to return for a service and MOT and, in more visits, they fitted twin rear-view cameras, a directional TV aerial (a great boon out of the UK), 120-watts of photo-voltaic cells on the roof and daytime running lights. The net result has been a safer and more enjoyable vehicle, all with absolute reliability.

In the High Alentejo. For a while we are staying in this remote Portuguese mountain village in the High Alentejo, 5 miles from the Spanish border, camped in an olive grove surrounded by cork oak and chestnut trees - the nearest thing we've found to the peace of Greece. But soon we will be on the road again, travelling back to the UK in May/June to get an MOT and service and check on our hopefully refurbished and re-let house (more of which anon) - probably on our favourite route using the Cherbourg/Rosslare ferry.
 
Recommended Reading. We remember your past recommendation of W G Sebald's book and, having just got it onto the Kindle, look forward to attempting to decrypt it and discovering Ramuz. Didn't know of Iain Sinclair, but we soon will.
 
Walking. Reading Sinclair's article in the LRB, The Last London, and now having a copy of 'The Rings of Saturn', I'm getting, perhaps for the first time, a glimpse of the complexities and yet the wholeness of John's walks and his walking. I hope that makes sense. It will take some time. I have always welcomed and enjoyed a new way of looking, a novel understanding, a change of perspective, a different paradigm, and now that is happening to my idea of walking. It becomes much more than just an exercise, just going somewhere and back again, something to do when cycling isn't possible, a basis for tourism or background to a hobby such as photography. I can see, I think, that walking can become a way of becoming part of that which is walked. Enough. I/we must read more and walk more and connect the two!

Border: A Journey to the Edge of Europe. What excellent writing from Kapka Kassabova, a Bulgarian woman now living in Scotland. Splendid. And we have learned so much more about that little corner of Europe where three countries (Bulgaria, Greece, Turkey) and countless cultures meet and have met over the centuries. We discovered that land and travelled there for a while and came to know it, to appreciate it and value it and to also call it ours.

Memories of War. I vividly remember the protracted bombing of Hull, weeks sleeping in an Anderson air raid shelter in the back garden, collecting shrapnel as a hobby on the way to school, being evacuated, dad Joe in Air Raid Warden uniform, the sirens, the bombers coming and going, the sound of anti-aircraft guns, houses split open like a doll's house, a V1 missile hitting the ground nearby without exploding, our bath left full of water with a stirrup pump handy to deal with incendiary bombs, rationing, gas mask drill and air raid shelters at school, warnings about exploding toys being dropped (don't pick them up!), the radio full of nothing but news of battles, going to the pictures with mother Doris for the big attraction - the Battle of El Alamein, American tanks lined up in the street waiting to be shipped out after D-Day, the GI's throwing food to a little boy they had been told was starving, the celebrations on VE day, Uncles Charlie and Cyril returning shell-shocked (now called post-traumatic stress disorder) from fighting on the front line in Europe and in Burma, etc, etc.

The View from Portugal. Here the evening news on all the main channels was taken up with reports and pictures from Westminster, with many expressions of genuine sympathy and concern. But this was also mixed up with mentions of Brexit. Why leave a Europe where we belong, now at peace and showing clear solidarity with us against what is a foreign threat to the whole of the continent?

En Passant. The niceties and politeness of settled living cannot apply – for example, we do not receive or send any Christmas cards! Our website, MagBazTravels was initially programmed to our design by a young Australian couple we met for only one night on a campsite in Alexandroupolis on the Greek/Turkish border. They were in the archetypal VW camper, just in from nearby Bulgaria; we were on our way into Turkey. From that intense meeting arose a website now 11 years old and still growing!

Travels Down Under. We have been to Australia 3 times in retirement. The first time we rode our bicycles from Perth to Brisbane via Broken Hill, 3,050 miles in 55 days. The next time we stayed 6 months, bought an old campervan in Brisbane and drove right round the country 16,000 miles clockwise, selling it again in Brisbane. The third time we hired a campervan in Perth and drove to Melbourne for the ferry to Tasmania, and then up country to Cairns, eventually leaving the camper in Brisbane after 3 months.

Long-Term Travel. Sounds expensive? Not if you travel independently and self-sufficiently in a motorhome or on a bicycle with a tent.

Dylan and Sicily. Email to a friend in Sicily: “Brilliant. You dipped down into your profound knowledge of the life and works of Nobel-Prize-for-Literature-Laureate Bob, and found exactly the right words to match the situation in Sicily as highlighted by the Guardian. What a combination you have achieved. Putting ideas together is what makes for a sense of achievement, of getting somewhere. Creating a whole from its parts. Like making a journey out of many varied experiences, skills and items of equipment.”

Walking the Edge. I remember the day, returning from Skye, two of us got dropped off at the top of the Glen and then walked the Aonach Eagach Ridge. Fit as a lop in those days, with more confidence than sense. Willing to go and have a look, rather than wait until they published the guide book!

Iberian Shelter from the Storm. We kept away from the coastal storms, retreating to Aranjuez where we took a campsite 'bungalow' for a month, with the advantage of a parking space for the motorhome at the door and use of the site laundry, restaurant and WiFi.

Cycling in Spain. The weather is mixed now: last week cycling along the Jerte Valley from Plasencia in brilliant sunshine wearing shorts, while today is cool and drizzly. Enjoying the bird life especially, as we've seen the Cranes leaving (hundreds of them flying north in V-formation), the Storks arriving, the Vultures and Eagles circling in the Monfrague National Park, and this morning four Azure-winged Magpies at our door (found only in Spain and in Asia).

February 2017 (Spain)

The Silver Route. Early Plasencia lay on the almost 1,000 km-long Roman road built in the first century AD to link the Bay of Biscay in the north with Seville in the south. It came down through Salamanca, Caceres, and the capital of the Roman Province of Lusitania at Augusta Emerita (modern Merida). The route became known as the Silver Route (Via de la Plata) in the Middle Ages in the struggle against the Moors, south of the Tajo River. Now the road is the A66, popular as a tourist route.
 
Storks. Before we left Aranjuez, we saw the first Storks arrive from Africa and start refurbishing their nests (reminds us of our house in Huddersfield). They were settling in the centre of Plasencia as we had lunch at the Café El Parking! The river cycle path gave us a 40-km ride and a good appetite.

Cranes were heading north for Scandinavia after a winter in southwest Spain; perhaps as many as 130,000 in total. They flew in a series of perfect V-formations and we could hear them coming well before they came in sight, chattering away to each other
 
The Human Condition. We are all human with intelligence, consciousness, humour, language, culture, empathy, altruism, all trapped inside the infinite complexity of an animal's body, which is bound to decline and ultimately fail. A body with a built-in mechanism of self-destruction. We all know this simple truth but then live lives in its denial, until it can't be denied in the death of those we love and in the contemplation of our own ending.
 
Out of Control. How can so many of us share these views, this reaction, this shock at what is happening in England, and yet be so powerless? Why have we found all the ways there used to be for influencing events suddenly cut off? Not just the decline of the Labour party and with it the decline in politics, but the subverting of the media, the gagging of the BBC, handing an uncontrolled internet over to trolls and liars, the creeping privatisation of the education system, the dismemberment of trade unionism, even the undermining of the legal system, etc.
 
Shattered Delusions. With Brexit, like Trumpism, it seems we have to wait until it collapses dramatically before the delusions they foster are shattered. But what a price to pay, something the Germans discovered in 1945.

Satire vs Reality. We read recently that there is a need for a new kind of satire. The old kind has been overtaken in reality by the things that should be the subject of satire. If we are not careful this new reality will go beyond the reach of satire.

Queues at the Border. This is a border area we first passed through in 1989, cycling from the UK to Istanbul. At the Turkish border were long queues of what were called 'Bulgarian Turks' pushing their possessions in carts, being expelled into Turkey. There was another long queue of Mercedes and BMW cars in the opposite direction: Turkish Gastarbeiter returning to work in Germany! We have been back into that intriguing corner of Europe many times since, not least exploring its Thracian history.
 
Comment on a Guardian Photograph. The Pomak Ceremony mentioned in the photograph's caption would be the circumcision of the little boy with the crown - a prince for the day.

Practice for the Real Thing? We are keeping away from the Spanish coast, with its crowds and storms, and having a break in a nice little campsite bungalow, with the motorhome parked right outside. Enjoying the space, the en-suite, the endless hot water, good internet, Spanish TV, etc. Perhaps this is practice for a real bungalow?

Years Roll By. It's too late for this to be an end-of-year letter in the usual mould, and so many subjects on which we reflect continue to unfold that there is no natural end point. Perhaps, after all, life should be a continuous process rather than being chopped into pieces called 'years', personal 584 million-mile (940 million-km) journeys round our sun, each rotation counted with alarm, disbelief, increasing regret and foreboding.
 
Eulogy. We all come to an age in life when we have to think of what we have contributed to this world. As a teacher, as a trainer of other teachers, as a husband, as a father (and perhaps a grandfather). We exist inside ourselves, sometimes feeling restricted or even trapped within the limitations of our own minds and bodies; but we also exist in other people who carry our genes and other people who we have influenced and who carry memories of us. People whose lives were made better because of us.

A Plague of Motorhomes. We also agree that Europe is now set up for motorhomes, sometimes to the extent that in summer there are can be too many of them. We used to have the far north of Scandinavia to ourselves in the summer, but no longer. Many campsites in France (there are 11,000 in total) and Germany are suffering from a lack of motorhome customers, who prefer free or inexpensive informal camping places. Campsites are changing over to providing cheap seasonal accommodation in huts, and permanent sites for caravans with elaborate awnings.

Irony. It is somewhat ironic that our parliament is so agitated by the USA restricting access to people of 7 countries on the grounds of ethnicity. Is this not the same parliament that is voting to put the whole economy of the United Kingdom at risk in order to restrict access to the country by people of 27 countries of the European Union on the grounds of their ethnicity?

Greece vs Spain. As far as the motorhome was concerned, Greece was a Terra Nullius when we first went there about 30 years ago. Then came the discovery of Greece by a few motorhome pioneers. Then its exploration. And now we are still in the process of mapping the country to make it more accessible to motorhomes. We have played a part of this contemporary process. One blessing is that Greece will never become a coastal Spain.

Taking over the Asylum. Let us not give up on America; it's still there. We've cycled across it twice, coast to coast, from sea to shining sea, and we have every faith in it. Clearly the lunatics have temporarily taken over the American asylum, ousting all other asylum seekers, just as they have in the UK and might yet in the Netherlands, France, Italy, etc. But in the US of A, unlike the UK and the rest of the EU, there are many checks and balances and we should give them time to work.
 
English Civil War Fought on American Soil. Americans are the people whose founding fathers should have stayed in Britain and overthrown the British aristocracy and the establishment from within, as the people did in France and throughout Europe in the revolutions of the 18th and 19th centuries. Instead they went to America and created their ideal system of government there. They still have a magnificent constitution (compare the UK without one), complete freedom of speech, independent laws and governments in each state (compare the UK) and a legal system which can intervene and act at once (compare the UK) – and many other freedoms.

January 2017 (France, Spain)

In Need of a Visa. We Brits may soon have the same restrictions as Aussies in travelling in the mainland of Europe thanks to the madness of Brexit and the antics of the lunatics who have taken over the parliamentary asylum. Perhaps we will have to seek Greek citizenship - but the Republic of Ireland might be easier.

Far from the Madding Crowd. Months go by when we meet no native English speakers; indeed we find that we prefer to be struggling with a tongue that is new to us. We also prefer, seek out and value empty campsites, empty roads, empty restaurants. Returning to the UK only when we have to, we are quite out of our depth among the crowds, the traffic, the queues, the rat race, the overall tension and pressure. Our whole life is based on moving on, leaving behind.

Limitations of the Caravan for a Traveller. With a caravan you are very dependent on campsites being open in the area you want. With a caravan, you can't really free-camp or use the many 'aires' available to motorhomes throughout Europe. You can't as easily stop and park en route, or go shopping with the caravan. It's not as easy to stop for lunch while on the road with a caravan. Caravans have a limited supply of water – usually in a 40 litre container that needs taking to a tap to refill. Caravans aren't as secure as motorhomes. Not suitable for narrow or steep mountain roads. Not easy to turn round. Not easy to locate on most campsite pitches without remote-controlled movers. And the total length (12 metres on our last set up) is too long and more expensive for ferries and European motorway tolls. Unless bicycles can live inside a tow-van (as ours did), they have to hang outside on top of the car, on the back of the caravan or between the car and the caravan.
 
Changing back to a Motorhome. Our change back to a motorhome illustrates the dilemma. We had been in Greece for the winter with our Crafter van and a very nice Lunar caravan. It had worked well, often leaving the caravan on a campsite and using the van to enable local walks and (importantly) cycling. We reached Corinth, thinking that we would return to the UK overland through Macedonia, Albania, Montenegro, Bosnia, Croatia, etc. But then realised that wasn't possible with a caravan. Much too unwieldy, very few campsites, poor roads, not secure, etc. So we returned to the UK via a ferry from Patras to Ancona in Italy and on main roads thereafter. Eventually we exchanged the van and caravan for our present 7-metre, 3.5-ton German-made Carado.
 
Advantages of the Motorhome. This is great for long journeys with all the advantages the caravan doesn't have. We have everything with us all the time and we can stop and stay more or less anywhere that it is safe to do so. We can also carry a greater load safely, including the bicycles inside the 'garage'. The only disadvantage is that we lack mobility when staying on a campsite or 'aire' for some time. We get round this by occasionally hiring a car locally (as we did over Christmas in the Basque Pyrenees), or finding a campsite or 'aire' near a place of interest (eg a historic town like here in Aranjuez) or somewhere good for cycling.

The Real Spain. After Christmas and New Year on a quiet little site in the French Pyrenees, exploring the local Basque-speaking villages, we have crossed the mountains into the Real Spain, since Real is Spanish for Royal. There is an over-the-top palace here in Aranjuez, the Palacio Real, dating from 1561. It is now the royal family's place for their summer holidays and is known as the Spanish Versailles (by people who haven't seen the real thing).
 
Arresting Experience. It was here a few years back that we were nearly arrested for riding our bikes in the Park Real in Aranjuez. But we retaliated with a Hoja de Re­clam­ciones – the official complaint form in triplicate. This is a great idea. Every business in Spain has to have some Hojas handy, even a small café. It does wonders if you get poor service – you just threaten to fill in a Hoja, copies of which go the local government, etc.

Being Spanish. Spain is not one of the countries where one feels an immediate sense of belonging. People seem fully engaged in just being Spanish with little interest or attention for anything else. They are polite and good at what they do, but they seem bemused by the idea that they might speak a language other than Spanish and perhaps one of the many local languages (eg Basque or Catalan). Where the holiday-makers go on the Sunny Costas, the Spanish have learned to provide a version of Spain to suit each nationality (an English Spain, a German Spain, etc) with appropriate food in the restaurant and the right football teams on the television.

Don't Forget to:

Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old time is still a-flying;
And this same flower that smiles today
Tomorrow will be dying.
(Robert Herrick)

The Camping Car-infos Site. We don't know how we missed it; this campsite guide is really good in both its content and its mechanics. On the other hand, Margaret is fluent in French which makes it easily usable. Others might struggle.

Dick Lane replace Motorhome Medics. Sadly, we no longer visit Cheltenham and Motorhome Medics now that we have a downsized German motorhome on a Ford Transit Chassis, a combination that did not suit the Dynamic Duo in the Golden Valley. Instead, we have found a very good motorhome specialist on Dick Lane in Bradford, a place where one can spend a free night with a hook up and WiFi. There's competition for you - but too far away to compete!

Winter Weather in Pamplona. We are now in Pamplona in northern Spain, having crossed the Pyrenees where there was little sign of snow except on the highest mountains. In fact, we have had only one day with a little rain in the last four weeks. And long periods of still air – we seem to be well away from any weather systems! It's cold at night with clear skies full of stars, but no frost so far. The sun by mid-morning has some real heat in it.

Carrying a Motorbike. Our Carado is typical of many motorhomes more than 6 metres long, in that the garage is built out from the chassis and sits on a fairly basic metal framework. The total payload for the motorhome is said to be 800kg, of which up to 200kg could be in the garage. However, we found that with just two bicycles, a spare wheel and a couple of crates of stuff in the garage (plus the gas heating boiler and 2 x 11kg refillable LPG cylinders), the rear suspension was nearly on its stops. So we had Goldschmitt variable air bags fitted in Greece to support the rear springs and that has worked very well.

Towing. It is unlikely that a tow ball could be fitted to the framework which supports a motorhome's rear garage. It would mean building a stronger frame to the chassis to take the extra load.

Over the Top. Onward and upward for us too tomorrow, as we motorhome over the Pyrenean pass from St-Jean-Pied-de-Port to Roncesvalles in Spain, and on to Pamplona. Coincidentally, this is also one of the main pilgrim routes on the way to Santiago de Compostela.

Basque Country. We've paused on a lovely quiet campsite in the heart of the French Basque country. It has mountain views, free WiFi, hot water and heated facilities and an enjoyable walk from the village of Itsasu with its basic shops. Yet it is far enough off the beaten track to Spain to be free of Brits on their way to the Costa del Whatever. The Basques within France, as with cultural and ethnic minorities everywhere, are putting a lot of effort into defining and expressing their separate identity, though sadly we cannot understand a word they say or write! One advantage is that Basques, like us, speak French as a second language making it slow enough to comprehend.
 
Over the Pyrenees for Christmas. During the long Christmas weekend, we used a hire car out of Biarritz to travel about 650 miles (1050 km) into and around northern Spain and back again. To misquote Bob Geldof, we asked the question: 'Do they know it's Christmas?' There were no signs of it on either side of the Pyrenees apart from completely empty streets and roads on Christmas Day and simple cribs in the Basque Catholic churches. Wonderful!
 
Cast of Brexit Characters. We are certain that more intelligent and rational voices among the EU's elite will calm the lunatics who have taken over the parliamentary asylum, and show them how to back out of the one-way cul-de-sac they are blundering down. What delusions! Mrs May as Henry VIII with the Royal Prerogative, Davies as Cromwell and Boris as the Court Jester. We are all becoming the laughing stock of mainland Europe, although none of it is funny!

Basque Churches. We visited three 17th C Basque Catholic churches with their triple wooden balconies, which were added after the churches were built and as village populations increased. It became customary for the men to sit on the balconies and for women and children to fill the body of the church. The very elaborate reredos contrasts with the simplicity of the remainder of the church, although all the walls hold pictures and statues. The churches are unsupervised and freely open to the public, with large candles for sale at €1 each in an honesty box. The churches are surrounded by graves, usually occupied by successive members of a family, all beautifully tended and covered in ornaments, flowers and messages of love and loss.