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Our intention was bold. We wanted to cross two borders and make it to the eastern edges of Hungary. That would mean crossing the hilly heart of Slovakia. The Monday morning roads were busy and there was constant rain. We passed sporadic glimpses of colour, mostly the fields of blue poppies, grown for the baking industry. Crossing the border into Slovakia, we were immediately met with poor roads - including one that caused a huge roar from Rosemary’s underbelly. This was at Bo

The storm clouds were gathering as we headed into central Europe. As we followed the winding Julius Valley beside the White Main river out of Germany and into our third country, we prioritised fuel for Rosemary Ford. The scores on the doors were impressive: one tank of diesel from Selby to the Czech Republic. At an Ono petrol station, it was o-no. First, we went into the lorry lane and the nozzle didn’t fit; then the proper pump was fitful at best. Jim - who, let’s be honest,