Basil woke this morning much relieved. The garlic seemed to have worked, there were no suspicious holes in his oil pipes. I was not quite so cheery. I had read, when I awoke, the entry from one of my favourite…
Basil is quivering in his rubber tyres at Vampire Camping (yes really), Bran, Transylvania! We’ve told him that vampires are not real, but he’s not having any of it. He keeps calling for Peter Cushing* and has asked me to…
After another soggy night at Camping Veliko Tarnarvo, we were up bright and early to bid fairwell to Bulgaria. Bulgaria didn’t let us down as we juddered and bumped the 60 miles or so to the border. We will miss…
Our sleep last night was accompanied by the persistent drumming of rain upon poor old Basil’s glass reinforced plastic head. Now we know why this part of Bulgaria looks such much like England! When morning came the rain was persisting…