Park Albatross is the mother of all Italian campsites. Outside of high season I imagine there is nowhere better. In August though, it’s a bit like trying to navigate Oxford Street on the last shopping weekend before Christmas. Our advice would be: don’t.

Teeming crowds and lengthy queues aside, the camp is extremely well organised and our pitch was spacious enough to create an outdoor shaded playroom for the boys which they loved. The temperatures were perfect – warm during the day and cool during the evening. Even the mosquitoes were less vicious  than the beasts we had fended off in Venice. We enjoyed swimming in the pools and listening to live music in the evenings in the main Piazza. The boys’ highlight was probably riding on the little train that periodically carried exhausted campers back to their bases around the massive site.

 

  

  

 

Oh Howard, how right you were. After a week or so of camping even a basic hotel feels like a palace. And our Best Western Plus Resort Hotel in Modena, although very reasonably priced, was far from basic. The friendly proprietor welcomed us warmly, recommended a local restaurant where we had probably our best meal so far in Italy, and practically waited on us hand and foot. We had free and reliable wifi, which helped us recover from the Great iPad Disaster of 2015 when Cormac’s iPad had to be rebuilt from scratch. We had an amazing breakfast buffet complete with children’s play area. We had air conditioning and a swimming pool. And we had a wonderful afternoon exploring Modena, which is a gorgeous little place. We drove away to Tuscany wishing we had planned to stay a bit longer in the region, and vowing to become loyal Best Western customers in the future.

 

  

  

  

 

It’s no joke planning a day trip to see one of the world’s most famous cities, especially in 35 degree humidity. We dragged the Wild Berry Boys from their beds at 6.30am and cycled about 6km to the port in a bid to catch the first ferry at 7am. The eldest WB kept up manfully on his little red bike and certainly earned his gelato that day.

Our reward was Piazza San Marco almost completely to ourselves for at least an hour. Venice is glorious first thing in the morning. We watched all sorts of interesting boats transporting cargo along the canals, and managed to go up the Campanile in the very first lift – even the Basilica seemed easy; the queue was manageable and the boys chased pigeons happily while we waited.

After our cultural efforts, we spent a small fortune on coffee (€7 for an espresso!) at a café in the Piazza – but hey – it was Venice. We explored beautiful side streets and canal bridges. Then we got hot and tired. The obligatory gelato helped us explore a few more blocks before the Wild Berry boys began to fade. The eldest managed to fall asleep on a bar stool over lunch; the youngest passed out on a vaporetto as we cruised down the Grand Canal. The crowds of tourists became so overwhelming that even the restaurateurs were fed up. It was time to say goodbye to beautiful, smelly, hot Venice and catch a ferry back to our relatively peaceful Lido di Jesolo. As a reward for cycling home again we managed to find a local restaurant complete with playground and the most fantastic local gelato bar – two gelati in one day; the boys couldn’t believe their luck.

 

  

  

  

  

 

Campeggio Ca’Savio is on the Lido di Jesolo, bordering the Laguna Veneta and the Adriatic Sea. We’d chosen it for its easy proximity to Venice but it turned out to be a world unto itself and an introduction to large-scale European camping. Tent pitches were in a wonderfully shady, mosquito-infested pine forest – forewarned, we were armed with an array of increasingly poisonous (but effective) repellents. The beach was a long, soft stretch of sand that sloped gently into the warm Adriatic: perfect for small children. There was a shaded playground, a mini club and – such a highlight – a Lego tent where children could create all manner of machines every afternoon. But best of all, the main pool had a PIRATE SHIP IN IT. Words cannot describe how marvellous it is to have a pool with a pirate ship in it, especially one with a mermaid spouting water decorating the bow, and TWO water slides to port and starboard.

We decamped quite efficiently from Camping Jungfrau and bade a reluctant farewell to Switzerland. We had hoped to see something of Lake Maggiore en route to our new campsite near Venice, but did not have enough time to do more than drive around the edge of the lake and marvel at the palatial houses. The journey from Switzerland to Italy did however offer some amazing scenery – and we somehow ended up on the Lötschberg car train from Kandersteg to Goppenstein, taking us in hot, smelly, pitch black darkness right through the mountains. Little WB slept through the whole thing but big WB was wide awake and, like his parents, will probably never forget it.

 

 

 

Towards the end of our Swiss week we visited Bern to meet our Wild Berry Godfather who bought us a delicious dinner and gave the boys some very thoughtful presents. It was 35 degrees. What does one do on a hot afternoon in Bern? Well, one can visit the Rathausplatz in front of the town hall, where children can play in water fountains. All in all, a wonderful evening.

 

  

 

There are not enough superlatives to describe our week in Switzerland. Camping Jungfrau is a place we would return to in a flash. The campsite itself is extremely well organised; the staff unfailingly helpful; the landscape spectacular. The site is situated in the famous ‘Valley of the 72 Waterfalls’ and the setting is wild and extraordinarily beautiful, as the site is surrounded by snow-capped mountains and cliff-high waterfalls.

Once again our arrival did not go to plan. Having spent a tense morning shoehorning our possessions back into a car that still smelt faintly of vomit and seemed to have shrunk in the intervening week, we set off for Switzerland only to realise that we had miscalculated the journey time by some hours and would therefore be arriving in the evening instead of in the early afternoon. Adding to the disaster, Accuweather informed us that it would be pouring with rain all day and night in Lauterbrunnen.

Sure enough as we approached the Alps clouds gathered and we drove into torrential rain and a soaking wet campsite. The owners were extremely kind and put us up for the night in a cabin at no extra charge. We managed to get the last table in the restaurant for dinner and the day ended with a celebration – we had arrived on the Swiss National day and there was a spectacular fireworks display that evening. Despite the clouds, the sight and sound of fireworks echoing across the mountains was magnificent.

The next day dawned bright and sunny so we pitched our tent in the middle of a bog. Well, it was a regular pitch but following the torrential rain, the waterlogged ground felt like jelly underfoot all week long, even though the weather remained hot and sunny. Within a day of constantly taking his shoes on and off our eldest WB was begging for a pair of slip-on crocs just like his younger brother.

Our campsite was in a beautiful valley surrounded by waterfalls and walking trails. We had a wonderful days out. The eldest WB surpassed himself by cycling about 10km (there and back) along the track to the Schilthorn cable car; we got the cable car to Mürren; we took a little alpine train all the way to the Jungfraujoch, Europe’s highest railway station at approx 3500 metres, and played in the snow, then descended to an afternoon of 35 degree heat back in Lauterbrunnen.

The icing on the cake: we found a café that served great coffee, cold beer and was amply stocked with Duplo for its smaller customers. No better afternoon could be had in the whole of Switzerland.

 

  

  

  

  

  

 

One day we dragged ourselves away from the Black Forest on a day trip. This is where we went. Cool huh?

 

  

 

Camping Muellerwiese is a charming site located in the little village of Enzklösterle in the northern part of Germany’s Black Forest. We arrived in style, as the youngest WB had been spectacularly sick due to the ‘twirly’ mountain roads (as his big brother described them). “Oh dear” said the lovely landlady faintly, as we checked in, covered from head to toe in the projectile vomit that had somehow managed to cover almost every surface of the car’s interior. One of us had to pitch the tent as best we could alone, while the other grimly set out to ferry buckets of water and swab down reeking upholstery. The car cleaning effort attracted much attention and for the next few days complete strangers would inquire about the health of our car, and our son, in that order.

We had chosen to camp in the car free tent area, so setting up involved first hauling our gear across a field in a small wagon, a task that seemed Herculean as the evening closed in. Other people were extremely kind. We are eternally grateful to the lovely lady next door. A guide leader with three children and an impressively efficient camp, she had whipped up chicken and chips for dinner, and kindly made extra for our hungry children while we worked to get set up before nightfall.

Despite our rocky start we had a wonderful time at Camping Muellerwiese. The people who ran the site were friendly and gentle, and the beautiful natural environment was fabulous for children. The boys ran wild with other kids, paddled in the stream and fished for frogs. They are still talking about the friends they made there so it was a highlight of our trip.

 

 

 

After a puzzling couple of hours trying to remember precisely which arrangement of wheels and pedals had enabled us to fit 3 bikes onto the rear of the car, we tore ourselves away from the Efteling in the early evening and drove from Holland, via Belgium to Luxembourg City. Three countries in three hours – we thought this was exciting but the boys, unimpressed, dozed through most of the journey.

We arrived at the Luxembourg YHA in the flogging rain and felt grateful not to be camping yet. Backpacking just like the old days! Hmm – but with two small children in tow. Tired, grumpy children. Not quite the same I’m afraid.

The Wild Berry Boys were in good form the next morning and loudly broadcast their good spirits to the other guests at the YHA who I’m sure appreciated them very much. Hastily we embarked on a quick tour of Luxembourg although ongoing rain dampened things down a bit. Luckily we happened upon a fantastic tourist train which took us past the major landmarks while the rain streamed down the windows.

We had a great time exploring the old casements and siege works underground later on. But I’m afraid the most memorable part of Luxembourg for me will be the amazing cauliflower soup we enjoyed at a fairly nondescript local bar, and the kind man who brought the children warm milk in their own little cups with a straw each.