VEEA (Volcano Enforced European Adventure): 9 Countries in 40 hours.

19th - 21st April 2010

We woke up for our final (scheduled) morning in Dubrovnik and the first thing we did was switched on CNN. It was not looking good. All the airspace over UK and Europe, which was supposed to be opening at 6am, was now no longer opening until at least 1 that afternoon. Our Easyjet flight back to London was the return leg, of a flight that left London around 3, so if that didn't get out of the UK, there was going to be no plane in Croatia to take us back, so it definitely was not looking good. We had our breakfast and tried to call the airline to check if they had any news for us, but after some severe language barriers I was able to establish that the woman had no idea what so ever and that I should probably call back around lunchtime.

We showered and got organised then headed over the the apartment of the woman who owned our accommodation. She had offered us her internet if we needed to check up on things. Unfortunately she wasn't at home, so we sat at her front doorstep and tried to hook into her wireless internet, three floors above us. We weren't successful. We headed back to the apartment and the news reports were not getting any better, this is about the time I started to lose my calm a little. I had a little bit of a panicky teary attack, but quickly realised that there wasn't much we could do about it, and got over it (partly). We headed back to try for the internet again, this time with more luck, and I got the lovely, personal, email from Easyjet saying that my flight had been cancelled and we only had 2 options. Rebook onto the next available flight, or get the money back. We had a quick look online to see when the next flight to London was: it was not until Monday the following week, a whole 7 days. There was one heading to Liverpool in 3 or so days, but because it was a different route than what we'd originally booked we weren't allowed to book onto that one.We decided not to do anything with our flights at that stage and we'd do a little investigating.

We'd found a small travel agency in our wanders that acted as Easyjet's agents over here, so we thought we'd pay them a visit. They were completely rude, and unhelpful and told us that we should go out to the airport and see the Easyjet staff there to maybe get some compensation for accommodation and food etc. The airport was going to cost us 70 Euros to get there and back, and all reports on the news were urging people not to travel to the airport as they were swamped with stranded passengers. We decided to give it a miss, and instead I think I had come to terms with spending another week in Dubrovnik, so we went back grabbed the internet and went back to the apartment with the internet and rebooked our flights for the following Monday. Our host was really nice and offered us a discounted stay on our accommodation (Still worked out to be more expensive that what we usually pay), but we gratefully accepted at least 1 extra night with her.

As quickly as I'd accepted the fact that we were going to be stuck there for another week, I had a change of heart and started going all panicky again. It's hard to describe the feeling, but it was knowing that we were completely stuck, with absolutely no way of getting home. It's not like we were in Western Europe and could've just jumped on a train (Even though all the French train operators had chosen no to go on strike), because Dubrovnik is so far removed that they don't even have a train station - trains don't travel that far south!!Don't get my wrong Dubrovnik is an incredibly beautiful place, but when you have no options what so ever of leavingfor at least another week (Who's to stay planes will be flying regularly by then?) it becomes a little scary.

Dan was quite good at getting me out of my panic induced state and came up with a plan; Plans always seem to have a way of helping calm me down. The first thing we were going to do was go for a walk out of the old town and try to find some cheaper accommodation. We figured by at least getting out of the tourist centre we'd save some cash (Plus we'd seen everything in there by now anyway) so we headed down towards the normal town, and came across a sign for a youth hostel. We followed the sign (directly uphill) and couldn't see a youth hostel. After going up and down the same street about 3 times, we asked a friendly local who pointed us yet another hill. We enquired about room prices and were shocked that it was only marginally cheaper for a dorm room than where we were currently staying. We said a polite farewell and headed further down towards the port/bus station. We spotted a tourist info point and thought we'd go and ask about accommodation options with them, but as we were walking in we noticed the signs they had up advertising a bus direct from Dubrovnik to Calais (Port in France where the ferries to the UK leave from). We enquired and found out that it was going to be 400 Euros each ($580 Aussie) and it was departing at 8am the following morning. We thought about it for a bit, and decided that we'd head to the bus station and see what options they had for us before making any rash decisions. Once at the bus stop we found that there were absolutely no buses that would be of use to us. We did a supermarket visit before starting some mathematics. We weighed up the cost of the bus versus the cost of another week's accommodation and also took into account lost wages (We both had work lined up for us when we got back to London and wouldn't be paid if we weren't there!). We decided that it would out about even and that if we caught the bus I'd be much more relaxed. We wen't back to the tourist point, jumped on the internet and moved some money about and booked ourselves on the bus.

We headed back up the hill to the old town and dropped straight in to our hostesses apartment to let her know of our plans before heading back to our apartment before cooking tea and packing up all our bags (again!). We called it an early night for our big adventure starting the next morning.

We were at the pile gate at 7.45 and a small crowd quickly gathered. We all paid our cash and jumped onto the coach. We got chatting to a lovely older English couple and their 20-something daughter while everyone else was making their way onto the bus. As we were ready to set off, the bus wasn't quite full and because we'd been standing in front of seats chatting, Dan and I ended up with a double seat each! Wahoo, extra spreading out room! The bus headed off, with a bit of a buzz. There was a really different mix of people on board; all were English, with the exception of us and a Belgian family with teenage boys. After a stop just over the bridge on the way out of Dubrovnik (To meet up with the other coach which departed from the main town) we were off. We backtracked most of the journey that we'd made from Korcula 5 days earlier - that I'd missed while sleeping. We also passed back through the small strip of Bosnia (2nd country) that runs right through Croatia.

Our first stop was halfway between Dubrovnik and Split, a little early on if you asked me and many others, we'd only been on the road for about 3 hours, but you never knock back an opportunity to wee on a long journey.

The trip itself was pleasant, but it seemed to take ages to make our way up Croatia - the roads are not the greatest - by late afternoon we'd made it Zagreb (again), and we continued on through into Slovenia. We all had to get off the bus at passport control so Croatia could stamp us out, then all back on the bus for about 200m then it was all back off again so Slovenia (3rd country) could stamp us into the EU.

After many more truck stop 'comfort breaks' the bus came to a consensus that we'd like a proper stop for dinner (nearly all of us had just been snacking on chips and soft drink). In order to request this, we luckily had one English passenger who also spoke Croatian. He proved to be invaluable for the rest of the trip.

The drivers hesitantly obliged and we stopped at a truck stop restaurant in Austria (4th country) for 30 minutes only. Dan and I were last in the queue and by the time we got to order it was only 5 minutes off departure time so we had to pass on many lovely Austrian dishes and had to order some wurstel (filled with cheese) and chips. Not the greatest, but it hit the spot. It was decided that through the night the buses would stop every 3-4 hours as we made our way through Germany (5th country).

Toilet stops became more difficult for Dan and I, as most require you to pay 50 cents to use the toilet. Dan and I had no euros on us, only Croatian Kunas or pounds, which was useless. We did a lot of barrier jumping, and squeezing through gates with others.

I think I managed an hour of sleep here and there throughout the night, it was not the easiest to sleep on the bus, but at least I got some. Germany took a long time to conquer, and looking at a map that another guy on the bus had, the drivers seemed to take a really indirect route. It turned out that the drivers were navigating themselves with a map book, published in 2000; a little out of date.

When morning broke, we pitstopped somewhere in Germany. There was a bit of commotion coming from the passengers on the other bus. They were concerned that their driver was nodding off behind the wheel, and that their other driver would be no more fit to take over as he had refused to sleep during the night. Our translator passenger spoke with the drivers and gave them the assurance that this was their profession and that they were fine, and that they were sticking to the EU legislation on driving rules etc. That reassurance wasn't enough for some passengers. One old huffy Englishwoman jumped ships and came over to our bus (Dan and I were concerned we'd lose our extra seat), but the best came from another couple. They weren't going to risk it and got their bags off the coach and said goodbye. We left them at a truck stop in the middle of nowhere (about 100km from Stuttgart) at 7am. Who knows how the hell they were going to get home from there.

The buses continued along the strange old route and eventually we said goodbye to Germany and Hello to Luxembourg (6th country). We conquered tiny Luxembourg in no time, and made our way into Belgium (7th country) where, just over the border, we stopped at a small roadside café. We quickly filled the place and the one woman running the place went bezerk because we were trying to jump her toilet barrier and not pay our 20 cent. Sadly, this was the one time I actually needed to go, but couldn't pay. I just had to cross my legs until the next stop. The crazy woman refused to serve others chips as it was too early (10am). Who gets to decide that it's too early for chips? We were in Belgium; it's the thing to eat!

Back on the bus and we continued on. 3 hours on and we made another stop. I was definitely using the toilet this time! Luckily it was just an attendant, so I threw all the Croatian coins I had into her plate (worked out to be about 10cents) and raced through into the toilet! I felt a million times better after a top and underwear change! Things were getting a little scary as we were still about 3 hours from Calais and according to EU rules after so many hours driving the drivers must take a full 8 hours rest. We were exactly 3 hours from hitting that mark. So the drivers said no more stops otherwise we will have to stop for another 8 hours!!! They continued on after getting lost in some roadwork detour in Dunkerque (8th country). We eventually made it to Calais around 4.30pm, some 15 minutes over the allowed limit (apparently).

After 31-ish hours on a bus it was great to finally be off. We raced down to the ticketing queue as many other buses were arriving at the same time. By the time we eventually got there, it was like the circus was in town. There were literally thousands of people queued in a very orderly manner, news crews and vans were set up everywhere and lots of official looking people walking around with clipboards. We found what we thought was the end of the line, and staked our claim. Not long after arriving the announced to the crown to expect to wait about 3 hours to get a ticket and then at least another hour to be able to board the ferry. The time passed surprisingly fast (We only had to wait about 2.5), and there were people giving out free coke, so that made me happy. Some old English man was having a grumble about them not giving out free tea, and that they should be doing so because it was cold.

Eventually got to the ticketing counter where they slogged us 65 Euros each to get on the ferry (its usually only 20 for foot passengers, but Sea France and P&O decided to make the best of a s*** situation and financially raped the thousands that needed to get home).

Our ferry was apparently a freighter, but it was quite nice. Big bar, where all of our new coach friends and us set up. We finally had something to eat for the first time of the day (It was now about 6pm) and the sandwich was delicious, if not overpriced, but that was to be expected). I went for a wander around the boat and ended up in a nice looking restaurant. As I wandered in, and saw lots of tough looking men at the tables I thought something wasn't quite right. The man behind the counter looks strangely at me and asks "You a commercial driver, love?". Although I did have my checkered shirt on, I wasn't sure I could pull it off. Embarrassed I made my way out. I finally found an outside spot where I watched France and mainland Europe slowly disappear.

The crossing only took about 1.5 hours, and we managed a quick glance, through very dirty glass windows, of the famous White Cliffs of Dover (9th country!). Dan and I bid farewell to all our new friends and made our way to be the first ones off the boat, so we could ensure that we got on a train or bus back to London. We raced off the bus, and were met by lots more official people who said were telling people to avoid the trains as the platform was still full and the next train wouldn't be leaving for half an hour. National Express buses were overcharging and not departing as frequently required to cope with the hundreds that were coming over on the ferries, but luckily we found a man lurking in the corner of the port with a sign offering a bus back to London for 20 quid each, departing immediately. We accepted, but as we had no pounds had to race around to find an atm and get cash before they disappeared. The nice man waited for us and organised 2 seats on an incredibly full bus. It was time for the final leg. London Bound!!! During the trip I had a good chat with the bus organiser who was telling me that no extra public buses or trains had been put on to cater for all the people coming home by ferry; their company was travelling up from Essex to make some easy money.

We got into Victoria station grabbed bags and headed for the tube. After a short tube journey, which felt like hours, we eventually got back to Acton around 11pm. What a monster journey.9 countries, 2200km in roughly 42 hours; I'll put up a Google map of roughly the route we took!. Never EVER want to do it again., but it was definitely an experience that we'll never forget. We decided that we'd better take the Thursday off work and we'd get back on the Friday, we definitely deserved a good nights sleep!! All that hassle because of one stupid volcano!