A five-quid flight to Split or Slovenia sounds ideal, but hands up if anyone else needs a break from weekends spent lining up in immigration queues, fidgeting during delayed flights and wondering how to get home from Gatwick or Stansted at one o’clock on a Monday morning.
If you’re hanging for a holiday that doesn’t involve planes and trains _- a getaway where you can take sunscreen in a tube bigger than 100ml and won’t get arrested for having a bottle opener in your bag – it’s hard to go past the good old-fashioned road trip.
I’m behind the wheel and I’ve ditched the traffic snarl of London (along with worries about work, money and the missus) as the fast-flowing M4 heads to Bristol.The van is loaded with a packed esky, cold beers, surfboards and my mates Leesy and Woody. My classic old Kombi from a past life spent road-tripping in northern NSW it ain’t, but our ride – ‘the Zep’ – is still pretty sweet. It’s from Wicked Campers, the graffiti-covered budget hire vans that appeared on every open road in Australia and New Zealand a few years back. Well, they’re in England now, too, and while the vans are more modern, the graffiti is just as bad. We’ve got ‘Led Zeppelin’ plastered across the side, while our rear end reads: “I’m no mechanic, but I’ll get ya motor running.”
As we detour around Bristol and take the M5 towards our destination – the surf-rich coast of Cornwall – the graffiti-covered van earns a few honks from passing motorists (blokes giving us the finger, not women impressed by our ride). Still, it’s impossible to dent our enthusiasm. Pretty soon, the scenic A30 toward Camelford and the coast takes us through meandering green countryside and past the wilds of the Dartmoor National Park. The tunes are cranking, I’m loving life behind the wheel, Leesy is rolling a cheeky spliff and Woody is reaching into the esky for a round of cold beers.
It’s hard to imagine a better way to travel with your mates: white lines disappearing in a flash, the wind in your hair and the smell of gasoline and freedom in your nostrils. Road-tripping is what days off were made for.
As dusk fades to black and the only illumination is our headlights, it’s impossible not to imagine that we could be anywhere: sipping a Coopers Pale Ale on a Nullarbor crossing to Western Australia; drinking in the desert air during a Route 66 road trip in the States; or dodging donkeys en route from Casablanca to Agadir through the Mars-like landscape of Morocco. When you’re on the road, places don’t seem to matter as much as the journey.
We eventually find a quiet spot to park up for the night in the picturesque town of Boscastle, about an hour north of Newquay. For the next two days we scour the coast, eating Cornish ice-cream and fish and chips in Trebarwith; plunging in the chilly waters for a swim at Polzeath; and saluting the sunset with a pint in a pub overlooking the endless stretch of sand that is Widemouth Bay. Decent surf never materialises, but it doesn’t even matter. Good times are never far away with a couple of mates in the passenger seats and the open road ahead.
• Trevor Paddenburg travelled courtesy of Wicked Campers (0808-234 8461; www.wickedcampers.co.uk). Vans start at £25 per day plus VAT. Minimum two-day hire; available for travel across Europe