Amsterdam was brilliant, but we weren’t done yet. After a cracking few days in the Netherlands, Harry and I pointed the Dethleffs south and took a three-hour drive into Germany. Destination: Cologne. Mission: find our old mate Alan, pull on the Germany shirts, and watch the World Cup. As far as plans go, it was a solid one.
Cologne, Alan, and a 7–1 Demolition
The campsite check-in gave me a laugh. They asked how long the van was, I did what I always do and said “oh, about eight metres,” and they produced an actual tape measure. Turns out we’re 8.7 m. I’ll hold my hands up, I’m not great at maths under pressure. They found us a spot anyway, we skipped the electric hookup (full battery, didn’t need it), and within about twenty minutes of parking up, Alan had arrived.
Alan’s been living in Germany for ten years (I said eight, he corrected me, classic Alan) and we go back well over thirty years. We first met at Xerox in the early nineties, he got me an interview at Nikon, and he’s been a godfather figure to the boys ever since. That kind of friendship doesn’t need much of a preamble. We grabbed the Germany shirts, walked down over the old railway bridge across the Rhine, found a beer garden showing the game, and got one of the last tables.
Germany vs Korea Republic. Germany won 7–1. We were sat in Cologne watching Germany score seven goals in a World Cup group stage game, surrounded by very happy Germans. That’s one for the memory bank. Harry was brilliant company all evening, and watching him catch up with Uncle Alan on the walk home, that was the best bit, if I’m honest.
Bruges, the Tightest Park-Up in Europe, and a 1–1 Draw
Next morning, Alan was up at half six for work (dedication) and we were on the road to Bruges by mid-morning. About three and a half hours in total, with a service station stop for fish fingers in the air fryer. Four each. Can’t argue with that.
Now, the aire in Bruges. I want to manage your expectations here. A lot of you are going to look at these pictures and get the heebie-jeebies. We are talking less than a metre between vans. We were completely sandwiched: neighbours on both sides, more pulling in behind us, the place absolutely chocker. And you know what? That’s Europe. That’s how it works out here. It’s tight, it’s efficient, and the location is perfect for getting into the city. If you’re planning to use this one, come early: by the time we left in the morning it was genuinely full.
We pulled the scooters out and headed into town for Belgium’s game. The cobblestones of Bruges are absolutely savage on those things (I thought my fillings were going to end up in my lap) but we found Delaney’s Irish Pub, got a couple of nice cold blondes in, and watched Belgium nearly lose to Egypt before Lukaku came on and equalised within seconds of stepping onto the pitch. The atmosphere in that pub went absolutely mental. Brilliant evening.
The Numbers and Getting Home
Eurotunnel the next morning, bacon and cheese croissants in the oven while we waited to board (highly recommend this approach to Eurotunnel departure anxiety), and one nap later we were back in the UK in 29-degree sunshine.
Total trip stats for the nerds among you, and I know you’re out there: 992 miles over six days, three tanks of fuel, Amsterdam to Rotterdam to Cologne to Bruges and home. We fuelled up in Bruges at 184.9p per litre, 75 litres for just under €140. Not the winner we got in Croatia, but better than the UK, so we’ll take it.
Harry’s verdict was that he couldn’t pick a favourite bit, which I think means it was all good. That’ll do for me.
If you want to see the full trip (the football, the cobblestones, Alan, and the most nerve-wracking park-up we’ve done in a while), the video is up now. Give it a thumbs up if you enjoyed it, and drop a comment below telling us the tightest spot you’ve ever squeezed a motorhome into. We’ll see you on the next one.
Watch the full video: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zCHjdNnUfQA