Our suggestions are: Frequent stopping, homemade panini (skip the food at the AutoGrill), non messy fruit, counting tunnels, patience, flashcards, plastic animals, blankets and pillows, singing, stopping to play and run around, and more patience.
Here they are on a pit stop outside Verona:
I love a road trip for many reasons. I love driving and seeing new things. I love finding exotic and intriguingly named items in the supermarket. I love the way your eyes are fresh to new sights every minute. Also, I don't mind the uncertainty of having to find necessities in unfamiliar places, or even that the everyday things we're used to may be vastly different, if they're available at all. Every change makes you fully experience the new place in which you find yourself and then, when it's over, it makes you appreciate home all the more.
Which is why it's a shame that my husband and kids do not like them at all. Now it's true that the kiddies are little (4 and a half and almost 3) so being an optimist I like to think they'll come around in due course. Sadly, Dan is pretty much fixed in his opinion. He thinks travelling is the annoying part before arriving somewhere. Which is a fair enough viewpoint but one that I think would limit the joy to be found in ordinary things. C'est la vie.
Things went pretty much to plan: on Thursday morning we set off for Avezzano, then Pescara where we had our first glimpse of the Adriatic.
No stopping allowed, unfortunately, we continued North-ish via Bologna, Modena and Verona to Lonigo, where Dan's cousin Sandra lives with her children. We spent a lovely night here catching up. Good food, good wine, good company, great family, is there anything better? Thank you, Sandra for conveniently living halfway between our families!
Day 2 we set off again, heading to Trieste before crossing into Slovenia. We found the best playground so far in Europe, at a fuel stop where the kids could run around a bit but otherwise driving through Slovenia took 3 and a half uneventful hours. I'm sure it's a lovely place but we didn't have time to find out. They do have cheap petrol though.
The first Hungarian words I heard were "Karcsi! Itt vagyunk!" (translation: 'Charlie, we're over here!') and I couldn't help but smile. We hadn't yet crossed the border but I knew we were close because Hungarian guys were crossing over to Slovenia to buy the aforementioned cheap petrol. It was enough to bring a tear to my eye.
A few minutes later we were here. Driving along the Balaton at sunset was magic and by dusk we had arrived.
Later on, I realised I had to wait till I was 35 before first driving in my homeland. Isn't that strange?
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