Moving to Crete - Nearly The Final Episode.

I promise this will be the final part.......At least of the moving saga.........



OK, we have a buyer, we have a moving date, and we have a leaving date for Crete. We even have started the process of buying somewhere on Crete.



What can possibly go wrong?



Nothing so far...As the day approaches for leaving the house in Brighton we continue to de-clutter, at least we now know what is in the boxes that came from my mother's house 9 years before, Ebay and car boot sales have done us well, we gradually pack boxes until our existence becomes a pile of cardboard boxes in the lounge. Removals and storage are arranged, and so is transit of our stuff to Crete, by Phil, The White Van Man, yes, we were his first trip out, his trial run, it's all our fault!



We leave the house, and I go back to work in the afternoon. No regrets about leaving the house, we had some difficult times while we lived there and good ones of course.



The removers take everything except the brand new stainless steel pedal bin, which just happened to have somehting packed in it, which I didn't miss until three years later!



We go to stay with friends.........



December 2003 arrives, and we get a message to phone the lawyer on Crete, the house we want to buy is illegal, not just a question of it being the wrong shape or a bit too big, it just shouldn't be there at all. To legalise it will take €6000, and we ain't paying it and neither is the man who owns it! Lawyer says "Don't touch it", so we don't. Heigh Ho, back to the drawing board.



It really is much easier to buy somewhere when you are on the spot anyway, and have the cash in the Bank!



Christmas comes and goes and our departure date looms large on the horizon, we organise a leaving party for two days before we are due to go, we go and see relations and distant friends who can't get to the party.

Two weeks to go and the company I am working for on a temp basis, hands me a permanent contract, can you believe it? Sorry boys I decline your offer, why couldn't this happen 10 months earlier?

The last day, 30th January 2004, a quiet day packing the car. I do something that I have always said I wouldn't. I pack socks and underwear in a bin liner because that is the only way I can fit them in the car. Everything is in except the clothes we need for today and tomorrow morning, the pc is in the boot, there are two suitcases on the back seat, and everything we are likely to need on the way

Last night, dinner with our best friends, a rather subdued occasion, they think we are mad, we think they might be right.

February 1st 2004, the storm which raged last night has blown itself out. We leave earlier than we expected and arrive in Dover nearly two hours early, that's fine, we get an earlier ferry.

Our route is planned to take a week, because it's February and there will almost certainly be snow on the way, which is why we both have two great big Tog24 winter coats with us taking up so much space inside the car.

I have run off the itinerary from the Michelin web site, we are going via Calais, then Belgium, Holland, Germany, Austria, Italy to Ancona for the ferry to Greece. The first stop is Cologne for the night and the plan is that we only travel by daylight so we arrive in the city in daylight.

The plan doesn't work of course, the itinerary is so detailed that it gives us every single exit we pass which confuses the issue, I throw away the itinerary and use the atlas.

We arrive in Cologne...after dark. Now British cities are bad enough in the dark. German ones are even worse, you can't see the signs, and even if you can they are in German. We find the railway station as our first landmark, and all of a sudden we are taking the bridge over the Rhine. Wrong. Negotiate one way system and cross back again, spot street sign with our hotel in it. Ask German hotel doorman how to get to it. Down that street, but you cannot drive that way, do this and this and turn left there.

We do as told, end up in wrong street, and then we cross the river again, by the same bridge. OK we are good at this now because we know where to turn.

Head back across different bridge, aim for hotel again, wrong again, back across the river, different bridge this time. Negotiate one way system and cross river again. Stop and ask doorman again, he laughs, who says the Germans don't have a sense of humour.

Pass end of street where hotel stands, screech to a halt and reverse over traffic island and reverse the wrong way down one way street to reach hotel. Remove bags that we need for the night, get directions to secure parking, leave hotel foyer, return 45 minutes later having crossed the bridge again. We are now experts on the Cologne one way system and have actually found the way that we must go to leave the city in the morning.

Tired and stressed we find a place to eat, full of foreign businessmen in town for an exhibition. Good German food though, excellent soup, made from sorrel, it turns out when we ask what's in it. Have couple of drinks and so to bed.

Day 2, we leave Cologne heading for Stuttgart. Nice easy drive, we have two nights stay booked, and Stuttgart is a pleasant place. Weather like spring, heater off and windows down on the car. The Germans drive like maniacs and there really aren't any speed limits you know.

Arrive in Stuttgart, now I don't know whether you know Stuttgart, but if you do then you will know that there is a tunnel through the hill. Our hotel is near the tunnel, we end up going through it. OK no problem turn round and go back except we still cannot spot the street into the hotel and anyway there is a tram stop in the way.

Proceed back out of Stuttgart from whence we came, and try again. Once again we miss the turning and view the inside of the tunnel again. Finally we turn wherever we can, lo and behold end up outside front door of hotel. I pretend that I knew this would happen, I don't think I was believed!

Ask hotel owner for a good place to get German food, looks mystified and directs us to a Chinese!

We don't want Chinese, we want German. 'What you want all that pork and potatoes and cabbage?' 'Yes', we do. 'OK. Go there then'. Points across street.

We go to eat....Lots of beer, lots of pork and those wonderful potaotes that they do in the oven with onions and bacon, and of course cabbage. The family that run the place do not speak a word of English, but we gather they are having a party for some reason. We end up included and are pleased that we do not have to drive the next day.

Relaxing sitting in the sunshine drinking coffee and large slabs of low calorie cake (I don't think).

Find nice bar, tell Steve not to mention the War, he didn't have to, the man next to him did it anyway. An hour listening to him apologise, I don't know why as he is only about 25. Go to Chinese to eat, the man that runs it is from Manchester. Absolutely excellent Chinese food though, and free drinks because we are English.

Day 4 leave Stuttgart en route for Bologna, Italy. Get lost, Michelin itinerary is completely wrong, the road has moved, we can see it but can't work out how to get to it. Have to take 45 minute detour to get to it. Finally spot the temporary road sign that we missed lying by exit. (Ever noticed in Germany how many roads leave the autobahn for a place called 'Ausfarht'?)

Beautiful sunny day, a little snow on the side of the roads as we head for Austria, but still no need for the two new coats which are taking up so much space.

Buy vignette for the car and also the ticket for Switzerland as we decide to drive through it as well. Stop for lunch at Swiss roadhouse, undoubtedly the worst food I have ever had in my life. Even THF is better than that. The bill comes to about £30! Buy fuel, look at price and only put in half a tank, get stopped by Swiss police who want us to unpack the car. Drop the lid and open boot. Policeman see amount of gear and changes his mind and sends us on our way.

Switzerland was pretty, white snow and pine trees spotlessly clean in the sparkling sunshine. Arrive in Innsbruck, get lost, do a tour of the town......

Find way out and enter Italy, Lake Como was gorgeous, can understand why people go there. Italian drivers are downright rude, they can see we are sitting on the wrong side of the car. At least the Germans gave us plenty of room. The Italians overtake and then cut in about 6 inches in front of you.

Road tolls horrendous.......windscreen wiper falls apart when we use the washers, buy new one, cost €25!

Arrive on outskirts of Bologna with time to spare before dark. Traffic everywhere, stuck in it for hours, try to change route to get into city another way, plenty of time to read the map. One hour to go one mile!

Finally get into city centre, stop to get directions from a policeman, of whihc there seems to be hundreds everywhere. Local youths spot car and shout out 'Hello Dell boy' Obviously they do not appreciate that a 1983 Ford Escort Cabriolet XR3i is a classic car.

None of the policeman speak English, finally find one that speaks French. Ask for hotel by name, he points to sign above my head. How clever, the Italians actually put up signs for all the hotels. He points out the way across the road and then tells us we cannot drive that way but must go round the block.

OK fine we are good at this now, so reverse the wrong way up a one way street, it's the easiest way. Realise we have started a trend as three Italians do the same thing.

Check in, ask desk clerk about the traffic, it seems we have arrived on the night of one of the biggest football matches in Italy, like their Cup Final, and Bologna are playing at home. Mental note to self, allow for this when next planning a trip.

Find excellent pizza house, full of Italians, all enjoying themselves. Our table is suddenly pushed up next to another one to make room for one on the end, obviously we will be unable to leave until the people that cam in after us have finished. Oh well we didn't want an early night really.

Day 5 Bologna to Ancona, but you are going to have to wait for the next bit and the final arrival on Crete one dark February morning.....