Squeaking and creaking to china

(First published in Issue 4, February 2022) It is November 2015 when I accidentally find a very cool – the coolest – Volkswagen T2 for a reasonable price. Five minutes later, I’m in the car to check out the van. Two hours later, I’m driving what would soon become my partner in crime for the first time. Well, our partner in crime, I must say. Fast forward five years and many travels. The pandemic made us stay home, which meant time to fix our van. And we did. From Ugly Betty to Cinderella. We also booked ourselves a crash course on how to maintain our van. We learned how to fix the little things that can happen on the road: changing a tire, fixing the spark plugs, changing our V-belt. We also got to adjust our valves, change the oil completely, and learn more about how the engine works.

Time flies, right? So by March 2021, we are ready for our dream trip. A trip that I, Milene, have dreamt of since university: driving the ancient Silk Road. Marco Polo did it on horseback, and so are we. We are a bit quicker than Marco, but with a steady 70 km/h, we’re not so quick that we won’t be enjoying the trip.

We start the trip in March, which means winter isn’t over. And we soon realize what that means.

Without a heating system in the van, we start our trip east, racing from north to south. In Italy, we warm up a little bit with a weak spring sun. But while we drive east, the sun stays in Italy. From Venice, we drive to Slovenia, where we survive temperatures of -8 degrees Celsius. It doesn’t sound that cold, but imagine an old van without a heating system and windows all around. Yep, that’s cold.

Besides the cold, in some countries, there’s still a lockdown going on. Some places, like Venice and Dubrovnik, are amazing during a partial lockdown. Venice is quiet, so it is possible to roam the streets without bumping into thousands of tourists or have a great view from the canals without seeing towering cruise ships blocking the view. Restaurants are closed, but that means we can eat pizza by the canal with the best view of the Rialto Bridge.

Other places, like Slovenia, are less great. It is cold, gray, and the trees are bare. People are grumpy, restaurants are closed, and fun is nowhere to be found. That’s reason enough for us to leave Slovenia quickly and move our frozen butts to Croatia’s coast. Finally, we can have a beer on a terrace again, in the sun, without a face mask. Maybe that’s why we stay in Croatia for so long. The freedom we seek, the space we crave, we finally find in Croatia. People are happy to see tourists again; Dubrovnik is quiet but without lockdown, and the sun does its best to bake our skin medium red.

We cross borders without much difficulty. We head towards Montenegro, which is one of the best surprises so far. The kindest people, unfamiliar nature, and impressive villages and architecture. And while Montenegro is surprising, Albania is maybe even more so. From a mountainous north to Caribbean-like beaches in the south and the most incredible inland. Heartwarming people, beautiful roads, and delicious food! The Balkans steal our hearts.

Moving on, to get to Turkey, we drive through Greece, Macedonia, and Bulgaria.

Turkey is a homecoming. Ten years ago, I lived here for two years. Turkey is and always will be one of the most amazing, diverse, and incredible countries on this planet. If it’s not for the landscape, it’s for the history. If not for the people, it’s for the food. From Istanbul, we drive to Cappadocia, take a balloon flight (now half the price), and continue to Mount Nemrut. From here, we explore Kurdish Turkey, which is great: Mardin, Sanliurfa, Midyat, Diyarbakir, and everywhere in between. That promises something for the rest of the trip.

You might think that our trip goes quite well, and it does. Partly. Traveling in a 45-year-old van means you’ll visit garages almost as often as you visit gas stations. Before driving, we must check the oil level, which often is quite low. Thus, whatever the weather, we need to add oil. The Volkswagen vans are made for German weather, not the heat of the south. She’s air-cooled, so you can imagine, she often gets hotter than a Finnish sauna. And then there are the problems we can’t fix ourselves. An alternator that keeps causing problems, a tiny piece in the engine that gets jammed, and the spilling of oil. When we arrive in Georgia, we need a garage ASAP. However, Georgia, being a former Soviet country, means they do not drive Volkswagens but Ladas.

But you’ve got to love the internet. Something that helps when you have problems abroad is searching for car fan clubs. We can’t find a Volkswagen club, but we do find a Porsche club. Hitler and Porsche being friends, the cars have similar engines. Via Lasha, the owner of the Porsche club, we meet Giorgi, and this is a match made in heaven. After 15,000 kilometers of driving, it is clear that she (our van) is in no hurry to continue and decides it is time for a very well-deserved health check. We change so many things in Georgia: from the alternator to spark plugs, we have a new starter motor installed, change the battery, fix some wires, place a new gasoline filter, adjust the valves, and fix the CV joints.

After five weeks of exploring Georgia and fixing our van, it is time to move to Armenia. And that’s where we are now. Van life is not only about freedom, wild camping, and warming up at self-made campfires. It’s about car problems, impassable roads, and annoying border controls. But, if you do it right, you meet the kindest of people, become a problem solver, and start a career as a car mechanic. You learn different languages, make friends for life, and absorb cultures like sunlight.

We document our trip on @mygrations.nl - expect a lot of information on local cultures, migrations along the Silk Road, and uncensored honesty about van life.