The hard part is over. After weeks of running around embassies and doctors in berlin, we finally have passports full of visas and bodies full of small quantities of deadly diseases. Not to mention packing life into a relatively small (but heavy) backpack.
It has already been a week since we set off from Bavaria, driving down through Austria with my parents. Our first night was spent camping wild in the forest near the border. Being english, this of course brings an initial fear of being murdered by some psycopath junky or shot by an angry farmer. Luckily we are still alive and have managed to avoid camping in drug dens or other such undesirable places so far.
So after a successful start, we moved quickly South. Thanks to Andi's 'efficient' route planning, we took a nice route through industrial austria, bypassing the most part of the dolomites. That being said, it was still a scenic route with plenty to remind me how much geography knowledge i have forgotten in the year since those student days. 
Once in italy, we headed for lake garda. Hoping to camp far enough away to avoid the tourists on easter weekend, we took a short detour off the main road. This quickly turned into a very long detour, taking us up winding mountains roads, where only abandoned ski resorts and a few scraps of snow were to be found. Even though it was a pretty long and pointless drive it was definatly worth the effort to see the turquoise mountain lakes surrounded by dramatic limestone peaks. Although im not sure my dad would agree, being afraid of heights, driving around cut-throats bends without safety barriers, with the added fun of mad italian drivers with a death wish.
Anyway, eventually we made it to Garda, facing the hoards of tourists, campervans bumper to bumper along the streets. We managed to secure the last place in a typically overpriced campsite, surrounded by curious germans and italians. They are used to holidaying with all of the essentials and I dont just mean the kitchen sink. They bring their washing machines, hoovers, even a vase of flowers to put on the table at diner. The italians are especially interesing. You would think they were dressed for diner at the Ritz, not a couple of sandwiches on a campsite. Even the men swagger back from the showers with their hairdryers and more cosmetics than i own, complete with stylish italian bathrobe and shades.
After a couple of nights in garda we parted company with my parents, who sadly waved their tissues behind us. And it was on our own from there! We reached venice the same day but fled the city soon after in search of a camping place.We settled on a small woodland by a farm and took refuge inside the tent. With an early start the next day, we spent the morning trudging through the hot streets with way too much stuff, in search of a hostel. Unfortunatley the tourist season is already in full swing, and with the price of a hotel for the night being more than the cost of the ferry to greece... Well, here we are on the ferry to greece. Venice will have to wait for another day, away from the swarms of tourists and extortionate prices. For now its onwards to igoumenitsa - our portal to the east..
