Get ready for the adventure of a lifetime! The meticulous planning for our journey started well in advance. We got our hands on a road book from Pistenkuh and a VW Synchro traveler's guide customized for the Balkan region. Our vehicle was prepped to perfection for the trip ahead. Our culinary escapade included mouthwatering entrecôtes, Älpler Magronen, chicken curry, goulash, a variety of aperitif snacks, and raclette. The Engel fridge was fully stocked, and our water tanks were brimming with excitement. Bright and early on Friday, September 22, we set off with the goal of meeting our travel buddy in Landquart by 10 a.m. Despite a slight delay and some heavy rainfall, we pushed forward. We conquered the Prättigau, cruised through Davos, left the Flüela in our wake, and finally reached Zernez to kick off our ascent of the Ofenpass. Taking a break at "Il Fuorn" amidst the rain, fog, and a November-like ambiance, we savored every bite of “Pizzoccheri” and a delightful game menu while eagerly awaiting Patrick, our travel companion, to join us for coffee.
Crossing into Italy via the Ofenpass, we endured an exceedingly dull hour through the Vinschgau before finally reaching Merano and subsequently Bolzano. A notable aspect of the Vinschgau route was that I found myself less critical of the drivers ahead, as the Defender smoothly cruised at 80. After procuring some essential supplies, we continued along the monotonous road through Bruneck towards Tolmezzo. Battling rain, fog, and cold, we turned right in Toblach, as our campsite from the previous year was now adorned with prohibition signs—a trend increasingly observed in various locations. This phenomenon can be attributed, in part, to irresponsible campers who travel without proper sanitation facilities, as well as the widespread sharing of prime wild camping spots on popular apps, which has led to an influx of campers in these areas, prompting landowners and authorities to erect prohibition signs, large boulders, or fallen trees to deter them.
The path guided us through a highly frequented park, which provided a view of the renowned "three peaks," a sight we were unfortunately denied due to inclement weather. Engaging in wild camping in such an area presents considerable challenges. Our alternative plan, given that we could not proceed directly to Tolmezzo, nor to Toblach or the park, was to position ourselves near the iconic ski jump in Cortina. This ski jump, famously featured in the James Bond film "For Your Eyes Only," is no longer operational and exists in a state of neglect.
We stumbled upon the perfect spot on the way to Rifugio Malga Ra Stua where not one, but two Land Rovers could snugly fit in for parking. With the pop-up roof up and the awning extended, the rain started pouring down. But guess what? Our enthusiasm was unstoppable! It's holiday time, dedicated to our beloved Land Rovers, and we're looking forward to a sunny morning ahead. Amidst the cleanup, a plate got stuck in the pan, fitting so snugly that not even boiling water could separate them. So, we left them on the hood for the night, brimming with excitement. As I dozed off, a hint of worry crept in for my dear pan, now braving the rain all alone.
I had a strong desire to ascend the "Tofana" hill via the cable car, the site of the initial encounter between James Bond and Luigi Ferrara. However, Patrick opted to drive by car to the mid-station, which led us to navigate the narrow, winding streets of Cortina, resulting in a sense of disorientation. Consequently, our plans to visit Tofana were abandoned, and we instead explored the Olympic ski jump, a location we had previously visited last December amidst frigid temperatures. In the autumn, this "forgotten place" leaves a striking impression.
The following morning greeted us with sunshine, and steam rose gently through the spruce trees surrounding our vehicles. After enjoying coffee, a refreshing shower, and successfully liberating the plate using principles of fluid dynamics inspired by Goethe (Erlkönig, 7th verse, 2nd line, quote: “and if you are not willing I will use force”), the plate finally dislodged from the pan, allowing us to complete the washing up. Under the bright sun and favorable mountain weather, we proceeded along the main road towards Tolmezzo to locate our access point to the Stol Pass. During our journey, we paused for coffee beneath a bridge in the riverbed before continuing our route toward Slovenia.
As we crossed the border, a thrilling narrow, winding gravel road beckoned us to the right, leading us on a journey through a stunning deciduous forest. The lush foliage created an air of mystery in many places, but at the exciting hairpin turns and intersections, the trees graciously parted, revealing tantalizing glimpses of the wild landscape. And then, at one magical intersection, we boldly took the path frequented by forest workers, guiding us up a charming little hill where we decided to set up our camp. Despite the early hour, our adventurous spirits were low, and we were absolutely raring to savor a delightful appetizer!
During an exciting drone flight, Patrick's drone mysteriously disappeared into the dense spruce forest. Despite our best efforts to locate it with another drone, the retrieval mission turned into a challenge. We found ourselves eagerly hoping for a gust of wind to help us out. Even in the pitch-black darkness, the drone's flashing lights continued to twinkle among the towering trees, adding to the excitement of the moment. After shivering in our warmest jackets, we decided to call it a night and cozied up in the heated car or the pop-top roof after a scrumptious meal. Suddenly, in the dead of night, a loud noise jolted me awake—could it be that the drone had miraculously sprung back to life?
The next morning was absolutely stunning as we conquered Stol Pass under the dramatic overcast skies, adding a touch of mystery to our adventure. The breathtaking panoramic view from the summit made every step of our climb worth it. We marveled at not only the playful goats but also the vast sea and the lush wooded hills surrounding us. As we wrapped up our essential tasks with a shovel and lighter, a sudden plume of smoke caught our attention from behind a rock. Without hesitation, Patrick sprang into action, grabbing his canister to tackle the unexpected situation. Luckily, the damp grass beneath our feet revealed that it was not a fire but merely mist gracefully rising from the rocks. With a sense of relief, we stowed our water supplies and continued our journey along the rugged path leading into the ravine. Upon descending into the valley, we meandered alongside the enchanting Natisone River before finally reaching the charming town of Kobarid. There, we refueled our diesel tanks, stocked up on delicious snacks, and excitedly discussed our next route to explore.
Initially, we traveled along a paved road beneath the finches, before transitioning back to a single track at Postaja via a minor side road and later a gravel path. In the high valley of Lokve, Slovenia, our journey was impeded, necessitating a detour through Nova Gorica, coinciding with the onset of rain. Our destination was "Omladinsko Jezero," located near the Croatian Lokve. We navigated past "Ucna pot Drvosec" along a gravel path, which led us to a body of water situated between a swamp and a lake, a veritable haven for avian and insect life. Despite the persistent rain, we traversed captivating gravel roads and several mountain passes, ultimately reaching Delnice and then the lake of Lokve. Regrettably, the reservoir was nearly depleted, and the weather remained unpleasantly cold and windy. We felt a twinge of sympathy for the red Ford Vamper, which sat idling in front of a prohibition sign, its driver clad in a cap and gloves, presumably lacking any auxiliary heating.
We arrived at a clearing that was not indicated on maps.me, having navigated a concealed, winding path that was absent from Google documentation, where we established our campsite in a secluded area. The wind and rain were intense, prompting us to secure the side walls to the awning, allowing us to cook comfortably within its warmth. Despite the inclement weather and chill, the atmosphere remained positive, and we had already devised a plan for the following day.
Packing up wet tent walls and dismantling a soggy campsite early in the morning during rainfall is rarely enjoyable. Nevertheless, we faced the adverse conditions and made our way back to the main road via the winding gravel paths, turning right at Delnice to access what the Pistenkuh had referred to as the "Clocky Forest Path." This route led us onto the TET (Trans Euro Trail), a renowned motorcycle route traversing Europe, heading southeast. After approximately an hour of travel, we encountered a fallen tree obstructing the road, halting our progress.
What an incredible team effort! Patrick expertly parked his vehicle to allow us navigate around the obstacle, and then we sprang into action. With precision and skill, we used a hand saw to swiftly divide the tree, and our winch with a pulley system worked like a charm to clear the road. Thanks to Bure's off-road training, we were able to tackle the challenge with confidence and efficiency. The grateful motorcyclists who were eager to pass showered us with appreciation for our quick and effective response in clearing the path. It's amazing how investing in a winch paid off, even though a simple rope could have done the job - teamwork and preparedness truly make all the difference!
Above Senj, we experienced our second view of the sea, with the wind nearly toppling us. The sight of the island of Krk was visually stunning, however, after capturing a few photographs, the strong gusts urged us to proceed swiftly. We navigated a freshly paved road, passing wind farms as we headed southeast, eventually pausing to deliberate on our forthcoming route. Our next trail commenced in Bosnia and Herzegovina (for the sake of brevity, I will refer to it simply as Bosnia henceforth). We traversed narrow streets leading to the main highway, all while the weather continued to deteriorate. Following a stop for diesel and a visit to a discount store, we made our way through the vegetation to Zeljava—a "lost place" gaining notoriety due to its former air force base and subterranean hangars. This base was one of the best-kept secrets of the former Yugoslavia, featuring an extensive bunker complex that was utilized for the maintenance of MiGs and other military equipment.
The entrance to the site is foreboding, and in the presence of fog, rain, and wind, the dark chambers adorned with steel bars and concrete blocks suspended from the ceiling become even more striking. After a lengthy drive in the Land Rover through the expansive tunnels, we returned to the entrance just as a black vehicle approached, carrying two individuals who slung their weapons over their shoulders. A Kalashnikov and an M16—something was amiss!
We exchanged greetings with the two individuals, who reciprocated and clarified that they were using airguns. After firing several rounds from the Kalashnikov into the bunker, we became convinced that the ammunition was not of Russian origin but rather plastic pellets. They cautioned us about the presence of aggressive groups of migrants who might rob travelers like ourselves, and they mentioned that the proximity to the border could lead to police and customs inspections. They offered us a nearby campsite for parking. Consequently, we retreated behind some bushes in a parking area adjacent to the airfield, where we set up camp in the rain, amidst an unkempt environment littered with debris and possibly some mines in the underbrush.
Patrick noticed that one of his tires was deflating. When my bottle jack proved inadequate due to its short height and one of the high lifts malfunctioned, we resorted to using the second high lift, which Patrick had previously criticized (and had a rather violent encounter with). While high lifts can be effective, they also pose risks if not handled properly. The vehicle was swiftly elevated, allowing us to commence the wheel change, although I realized I was missing the necessary 27mm nut. The all-terrain tires were soon replaced, enabling us to shift our focus to preparing dinner. The persistent fog and damp conditions were beginning to wear on us, prompting an early retirement to bed.
Following breakfast, we traversed the nearby border and engaged in shopping at the closest supermarket in Bosnia, where we also refueled with diesel. Our journey led us to the entrance of Uva National Park, which was unfortunately inaccessible due to foggy conditions. Consequently, we drove southward, and a few kilometers later, we emerged from the fog into delightful summer weather characterized by clear blue skies and warm temperatures. Upon reaching the toll gate along the Uva River, we visited the Uva Falls, which were bustling with tourists from Arabia. The waterfalls are indeed a remarkable sight, and the footbridges and pathways are well-maintained.
We parked our vehicles on a damp meadow, which proved to be quite an experience: as we prepared to depart, I lost my footing on the slick grass slope and struggled to regain control of the car. We waited patiently under a tree along the track for Patrick, who navigated the slope effortlessly in his All Terrains. After he adjusted the tire pressure to 1.5 bar, his vehicle managed to perform better and successfully returned to the track.
We made our way back through the park to the main road and explored a castle ruin. The panoramic view was spectacular, complemented by favorable weather. After ascending several paths around the ruins, we climbed into the Defender and followed a narrow, rocky, and steep route back to the main road. Near a cemetery situated on the valley side, we found a well where we replenish our water tanks. We shared numerous jokes over the next few days, humorously describing our water as having a “musty” flavor. The dishes were rinsed without soap, and a toothbrush sufficed for cleaning, considering the water's origin from the cemetery.
We had reached our limit with the hinterland and opted to travel to the Croatian coast. Following a scenic drive through Bosnia and a seamless border crossing, we passed the remarkable Krka Park on our right and discovered a terraced campsite situated directly by the sea, just south of Sibenik. The weather remained pleasantly warm for late September.
Regrettably, our campsite did not offer a terraced location with a sea view. instead, we were positioned next to a concrete wall, overlooking a rather uninspiring view of discarded items. We set up the awning, raised the pop-up roof, and began preparing our meal. Utilizing the Skotti gas grill, we crafted a white wine risotto, adhering to the principle of one bottle for the dish and another for the chefs. We relished the evening ambiance and the warm temperatures that had eluded us in recent days. I enjoyed a cigar and savored a single malt from our onboard collection until we eventually retired for the night.
The warmth in the pop-up roof made sleeping in impossible. We brewed coffee and prepared rösti with fried eggs, beans, along with cornflakes and yogurt, chocolate milk, and bread accompanied by jam or honey. Patrick even brought along his orange jam from Spain. After a refreshing shower, we began inflating the packrafts in preparation for a short paddling excursion. The groundskeeper cautioned us regarding the offshore winds and the considerable distance we needed to cover—approximately 5 kilometers to the unnamed island we intended to reach. Fully prepared, we donned our life jackets and set our boats in motion. True to the groundskeeper's warning, the waves and wind proved formidable, however, we made commendable progress and arrived at the island's steep cliffs after 45 minutes of strenuous paddling. The island appeared to be a thicket, overrun with thorns and ants. My choice of footwear, inexpensive sandals, deterred me from navigating the sharp limestone cliffs. Patrick, clad in flip-flops, ventured towards a pile of stones but quickly retreated, likely overwhelmed by the dense undergrowth.
After a brief snack, we returned to our boats and began the journey back to the campsite, this time benefiting from the offshore wind, which necessitated frequent course adjustments. The waves gradually increased in size, and we were all relieved to reach the landing pier. We rinsed the boats with chalky water, dried them, and stowed them in compact travel bags for future use. I took the opportunity to hang the damp side walls on the awning to dry in the sun, which was now over thirty degrees. The warmth encouraged us to relax, read, or simply unwind. Patrick later decided to take a swim in the sea, which I found too chilly for my liking. Following a few refreshing showers, we transitioned to the aperitif and subsequently to dinner. Under a clear, starry sky, with warm temperatures and a less-than-ideal view, we drifted off to sleep, accompanied by the sounds of the sea and the distant hum of traffic on the main road.
The following morning, we assembled the dry side walls and stored them beneath the seat, retracted the awning, and continued along the road. The temperature was somewhat high, making it less than ideal for a visit to the Winnetou film set. At a supermarket in Posedarje, we purchased a variety of exotic beverages, water, food, and household paper before proceeding northwest along the coastal route. Aside from a few roadblocks and the occasional Vampers, the coastal road was unobstructed, allowing us to relish the breeze “in our hair”, the picturesque views of the Adriatic, and the serpentine road accompanied by 90s music. This experience evoked a sense of freedom, vacation, tranquility, and relaxation until we discovered a charming parking area by the sea in Povile around 4 p.m. Despite the occasionally strong winds, we opted to spend the night there and prepared a meal.
The sunsets along the Dalmatian coast are renowned for their prolonged duration and breathtaking beauty. We found ourselves seated beneath our awning, absorbing the atmosphere while savoring a cigar, a magnificent view, and a sense of tranquility for our spirits. As the sun finally descended into the sea, the temperatures began to drop, prompting us to retire for the night while watching one of our favorite travel vlogs.
The following morning, we prepared our customary substantial breakfast, a tradition when traveling with Patrick, and relished the warm temperatures that we would not experience again in Switzerland until spring. We opted to follow the coastal road to Rijeka before merging onto the autostrada toward Milan.
Upon entering the highway, we advanced a short distance and soon lost sight of Patrick. We paused at a rest area, hoping to reconnect, but he did not appear, necessitating our onward journey. Just before reaching Milan, we spotted him at an Autogrill, yet we missed the exit. We exchanged farewells and continued toward Lake Como to circumvent the traffic at Gotthard. Following the shores of Lake Como, we arrived in Chiavenna and ascended the Passo di Spluga, taking the northern route of the San Bernardino to the Rhine Valley. With remarkable speed, we reached home by 11:30 PM, smiling yet utterly exhausted—the 875 kilometers traveled in a single day had taken their toll.
The journey was immensely enjoyable, and we would have relished the opportunity to explore the backroads of Bosnia more thoroughly. It was prudent to allocate a rest day on the coast before our return, but for our next adventure, we must plan for two weeks of vacation to venture further south, as the charming backroads begin south of Bihać.
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