It’s been only been 31 days. 31 days since we last made this terrible mistake. We were in Tajikistan the last time we made this mistake thinking it would be a good idea. It always seems it at the time but it never has been. It wasn’t an inspired idea in Tajikistan, it wasn’t a great idea in Iran, and it wasn’t even a mediocre idea at the launch in London. So why on god’s green earth did we think it would be a fantastic idea in Lithuania? Sleeping in the car has and always will be a terrible terrible idea. It is quite frankly the worst idea to occur in a car since a certain president decided to drive around a certain city with the top down on a certain day, and that was 50 years ago. The late night thinking process considers the relative ease of the option compared to setting up an entire tent, a hellish affair which might take 2 minutes longer than rearranging the car to allow a 2 degree recline of the car seat.

 

It was daylight when we woke up. How did I know that? Well because cars tend to have many large windows facing forward which act to allow the occupants to see outside during the utilization of the car for its primary transportation purpose. Unfortunately when the car is used for an alternative habitation based function the large windows are somewhat of an annoyance, especially when hastily orientated late at night with little to no consideration for the direction of the sunrise. Having been blinded by the morning sun we inspected our chosen “campsite”. Not only was the track firm it also lead nowhere apart from further around the field. If we had the full use of our mental capacity last night we would have pointed the car the opposite direction and faced towards the woods next to us. After readjusting the seats 2 degrees to their full upright position we used the forest’s toilet facilities – separately in secluded privacy, it might be 54 days into the rally but we’re still not that close and I doubt we ever will be. 

 

We left a trail of mud back on the main road to advertise the accommodation’s location to later travelers then pushed on through Lithuania. Because we’re back in Europe, no longer explorers, and because we’re grown men who can do whatever they like, we followed the GPS on a small detour to a McDonald’s for breakfast. How’s that for a clear signal of the end of the adventure?

 

The rest of the day composed of one thing, one very boring thing – driving on boring European motorways. The rest of Lithuania passed by in a blur at a steady 80mph. We’re back in Europe now where speed limits are law, and fines aren’t just suggestions. One European country transitioned seamlessly into another with the only indication being on our GPS. The roads in Poland were identical to the roads in Lithuania – there’s a sentence which will spark a reinvigorating sensation in my desire to write about and your desire to read about these last few days.  The only saving grace of the Polish motorways is that they have sections which are toll roads, only because they gave some mild interest to our day. Now I know what you’re thinking that we went to great effort to avoid toll roads in Lithuania, so why didn’t we avoid them in Poland? Well dear, reader the answer to that is simple because we had no idea it was going to be a toll road until we arrived at the toll gates. Mild interest came about when we began to pay the toll, only to remember we had no polish currency. The attendant didn’t seem too pleased with any of our collection of currencies from around the world, nor did the queue of cars behind us. While we considered our options, trading sexual favours or making a run for it, the attendant said they took all major cards. Of course they did this is Europe, mildly interesting Europe which comes along with its technology and infrastructure to kick our adventure right in its large bollocks.

 

Before we left Poland we took a small trip into Warsaw. You might say that Wesaw Warsaw, wait no you wouldn’t because that would be a stupid thing to say. It would also be incorrect because we saw very little of Warsaw before the allure of the dull motorways enticed us back before we had even got out the car. By this point I think we both just wanted to push on and get home, any city in Europe can be revisited by a cheap flight over a weekend. 

 

We made it to Germany before dark and set about finding somewhere to camp before we hit the camp free zone known as Berlin. If we headed off the motorway we could surely find a similar set up to last night’s campground, and if we did it before berlin we might even have energy to put up the tent. After 20 minutes of circling the countryside next to the motorway exist we chose at random we gave up and shoved a rusty knife through the pathetic remnants of adventure left in this trip, and used the GPS to find an official campsite. Good-bye adventure, you will be remembered fondly but your time has come to an end with the few taps of a small screen.

 

Once the GPS helpfully chimed in that we had reached our destination I was somewhat relieved to find the campsite closed and empty, but the GPS was on hand and full of suggests to stop any reemergence of adventure to our evening. We set off to the next closest campsite and arrived a few minutes later at a location that was almost entirely a fire station and not at all a campsite. Not to worry the GPS surly wouldn’t fail us a third time. The roads and towns en-route to the next campsite were all suspiciously deserted. It has been 51 days since we were last in Germany and I can only assume it has rained at the same time every day since then, because at exactly 7:33pm it began to piss down.  When we finally arrived at the third campsite of the evening it was as equally closed as the first. We decided we would make one last attempt at finding a campsite which was neither closed nor nonexistent before we called it a day and slept in the car again. Because I’m an idiot and had already forgotten last night I was quietly hoping the adventuring gods would destroy the campsite before we got there.

 

The GPS told us to turn left, so left we turned and followed a truck down a dark single-lane road into the depths of a forest. The driver must have thought he had a tail, and took an evasive maneuver off the road and into the forest. We ignored him and continued down the road until we found a large gate blocking our path, on the other side of the gate was a rather soaked looking campsite in darkness. I drew the short straw and ventured out into the abandoned soaking darkness to try and find someone to open the gate. If this was a horror film I might have been murdered by an axe-wielding psychopath but it isn’t so I wasn’t. Instead I found nothing but a bunch of sodden cottages and returned to Chris empty handed. Not that I would have had something in my hands if the campsite had been open, it would be odd if I was expected to carry the attendant to open the gate. Adventure had won, for tonight we would be sleeping in the car again on a small road in a pitch black forest in the pouring rain. One last element of excitement before tomorrow when we might well be in the UK.