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On a journey through time and space, we left Constanta following signs for 23 August, 2 May, Neptune, Jupiter and Venus. Most of these were Romanian beach resorts and we stopped off at the last one, the slightly famous Vamă Veche. It has a very laidback vibe and appealed to us all. Ian called it his Zihuatanejo (reference from Shawshank Redemption). Jim said: “I don’t mind hippies when they’ve got beach bars.” Laidback Vama Veche The Bulgarian border was so easy as there were

The final day before a rest was a testing one. Ian’s navigational skills failed him on the edge of Chişinău, causing an unwanted detour down rugged back streets; and Jim forgot which side of the road to drive on, while actually driving. There was a lot of work being done on the roads and we found ourselves jolted on to terrible rough surfaces quite frequently. Then they got even worse. Huge holes, some covered with sand - you know, that secure and solid material… sand. Weavin

After a minor panic that we’d lost the V5, the Moldovan border appeared remarkably quickly. It was one of the easier ones Ian and Jim had crossed - a check of the documents and a cursory scan of the boot and we were done. There was the time Craig kept saying something inappropriate out of the window, but we’ll gloss over that! With an official vignette procured, despite trying to walk away having paid for but not received it, we were in our seventh country. The roads were ter

Ploughing through the flooded roads of Satu Mare, Rosemary longed for the mountains. She wouldn’t have long to wait. On the road north, the scenery became remarkably alpine. It would be a beautiful drive with no borders, apart from a visit to one. Sighetu Marmației overlooks the Tisa River, the same we crossed in Tokaj. It also overlooks Ukraine. It was a shame to be so close and not go in, especially for Ian, but we opted to play it safe - the news of the Russian drone in Ga

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