Never let it be said that Himself and I shy away from a challenge. A little bruised and battered from 2025, we took stock and reasoned there was one more trip in the motorhome – a grand tour of Europe’s ‘greatest hits’ you might say, following which we’d put her out to pasture. A bitter sweet decision that wasn’t landed on easily. I am, for one, sadly nowhere near done.
We’d start in the UK of course to pick up the motorhome, ferry to Belgium to see Bruges and Ghent, skirt through Alsace’s wine regions, cruise the Swiss Alps, see a bit a Germany and Austria, pop into Slovenia to kiss a squirrel or 10, landing in east northern Italy, our key destination. Here we’d cruise westward through Treviso, Bologna, Parma, Modena, the lakes and the Dolomites. back to the UK through France. Sounds blissful, yes?
And with plans thus struck and hope in our hearts (with perhaps a small side order of trepidation) we commenced the long haul across the pond.
Exeter is the first stop – overnight in City Gate provides a welcome rest complete with roast dinner. Himself is in his element. Hidden from his cardiologist, this is his idea of good food. let’s not mention the full English breakfast that followed either….
It’s a well located spot, set into the ancient city walls, walking distance to everything.
In a topsy turvy reversal of fortune, we left South Australia a rare lush green only to find England looking decidedly crisp following recent heatwaves.
The following day we set off to Headon Farm to collect the motorhome. In doing so, we give up our storage facility, saying goodbye to Linda and Richard who’ve faithfully cared for it in between travels. They’ve been been truly wonderful – it’s sad to think it’s the last time we’ll see them, but the die is now cast. The motorhome will be sold – it has no home to return to.
A glorious sunset ends the day. And a bit of a cry. There’ll be a few of those on this trip I suspect. 😭😭😭
Day 3 passes in a whirl of shopping and errands, crisscrossing Devon and Cornwall to stock up on summer produce and attend to a few minor repairs. Having farewelled summer at home months ago, it’s a delight to find flowers everywhere and grocers stocked with berries, stone fruits, sun kissed tomatoes and basil. It’s a pretty neat trick the last decade has delivered – two summers every year, nary a winter in sight.
Himself even finds a woodland friend on an inaugural ramble. But as lovely as it all is, our focus is on tomorrow. We’re due for a long held appointment to assess and hopefully fix our reluctant ignition at a specialist Fiat workshop in Exeter. Hopes are high for a quick fix, releasing us for an early start on Europe, stopping only to broker a deal for the sale of the motorhome enroute to the ferry.
Day 4 sees us armed and ready – I’ve pack for an overnight stay or two, in case the workshop needs time. Plans are to return the hire car and spend the day in Exeter waiting for the verdict.
A very pleasant Vietnamese meal distracts us for a while.
As do drinks in Sir Francis Drake’s favourite pub, stood here since the 1500s.
But the call inevitably comes – the motorhome’s been assessed. We’re to rise and stand in the dock for a verdict.
My friends, it wasn’t good.
Himself sits quietly as a lengthy scroll is unrolled and detailed. I’ll confess to blocking out most of it. I hear the price (jaw dropping). I hear parts need to ordered. I hear that two daysv are needed to do the work AND that we need to wait to get back into the workshop. 1 September is the earliest. It’s at this point I take my leave, lest my disappointment manifests in ways unbecoming.
It’s clear that Europe is off the table.
Disappointed doesn’t begin to cover it.
Miss Baci Travels 