We are finding that life travelling in a Sprinter van is very different from living in a motorhome, or being out there on the road with our bicycles. Perhaps it's somewhere between the two. Something of the freedom and flexibility of the bicycle, whilst having the payload of a commercial vehicle! But we miss the comfort of our own bed every night, as well as the intimacy, exercise and contact of travelling by bicycle.

Perhaps when the weather improves, as we slowly drift south, the bicycles we carry will come more into their own and carry us - then we may, as travellers, have the best of both worlds! Meanwhile, the motorhome, having been released from Motorhome Medics' intensive care unit, now waits for us in their rest home in the spa town of Cheltenham.

We left the UK just before Christmas at the height of the confusion in and around Dover, occasioned by a light snowfall on both sides of the Channel, a surprisingly unprepared Eurostar train service through the Tunnel and the temporary closure of the port of Calais! Eschewing that chaos, we found a cheaper and emptier Transeuropa ferry, crossing from Ramsgate to Ostend. Progress thereafter was rapid until, after 600 miles via Brussels, Luxembourg, Metz, Strasbourg, Basel and Luzern, we climbed to 1060 m (3,500 ft) to join the back of a long queue at Switzerland's St Gotthard Tunnel.

At 17 km (nearly 11 miles) the St Gotthard is the longest of the many alpine tunnels. It is also amongst the oldest, containing only a single carriageway in each direction. To keep vehicles (and their drivers) well spaced out, and to reduce the chance of head-on collisions, traffic lights control the entrance to the tunnel so queues are not uncommon.

However, on this occasion, we were stationary for hours as night set in and the temperature fell. We eventually learnt, from a boisterous bus full of young male Italians returning to Sicily (with all that the stereotype would predict), that the tunnel had been closed following an oil spillage from a truck.

Finally we edged slowly forward, entering the tomb-like tunnel with some trepidation. Emerging with relief into Italian-Switzerland, we were confronted with heavy snowfall and backed-up traffic. At the crowded Bellinzona North Service Area, the news was of more than the usual chaos around Milan, with some motorways closed. So we turned off the autostrada, into the three-castle turreted town of Bellinzona, ancient gateway to Lombardy, found a good hotel, did a very good deal for a stay over Christmas, and here we are!

Christmas here, as throughout much of mainland Europe, is very much lower key than the commercial version that stirs up a frenzy of consumption in the UK. Here all the shops (and we do mean all) closed on Thursday (Christmas Eve) and won't open again until Monday morning. The hotel itself closed on Christmas Day, although we were allowed to stay here alone, with a key to the front door! No internet, only one Christmas tree in sight and not a single shop giving notice of a forthcoming Sale. How relaxing!

That's our story so far, and the year isn't over yet. But we do wish you well for your New Year, and may there always be a light at the end of your tunnel, perhaps presaging entry into a new and very different world!