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Our final day would be leisurely. We were under three hours from the ferry and had five hours to get there. Antwerp was the only real obstacle in our path. The traffic was horrendous, but we managed to sneak through the quieter way. The faced a toll, the queue of which was longer than all but one border (Moldova-Romania). Seemingly, the Dutch don’t believe in service stations so we swung off into Steenbergen, the final resting place of Dambuster, Guy Gibson. It was scorching

With the sound of I’ll Never Get a Scrumpy Here by the Wurzels whirling around our minds, Rosemary Ford - Scottish registered - powered her way along the Dutch and German road system some 414 miles to Bamburg. Yes, she finished the day with a squirrel-like squeak (Ger: Fluffenshaft irritantnoizen) but that’s why we are calling this Day Two - it sounds more of an achievement. As we waited at border control, we were asked by an official if we had Scottish passports. Jim parped