Is there anything better than a family summer road trip holiday in Italy?
Yes.
If you were thinking gelato, SUP’s and pizza, you would be half right. The other half might take some explaining.
We left Munich and headed over the mountains to Lago di Garda. Here we lived our gelato, pizza, cheese fantasy, swum all day and had a jolly fine time. We even got to visit the vineyard of our favourite rosè wine, Dei Frati. The cellar was so impressive that Elliot was relegated to the second best looking thing in the vicinity.
The world of dei Frati 
External dei Frati 
Mmmmmm wine 
Elliot the VW and a vineyard
From here in on, things turned to custard. Lumpy, undercooked custard.
We headed to the tourist mecca of Cinque Terra and proceeded to spend all day searching for a camping spot.
Note to self: It pays to research when there are festivals in towns. OOPS. However, it wasn’t all bad: We eventually found a spot, the fireworks were incredible and the gelato was…well gelato – never short of a miracle.
Note to you all: you can not back this trailer. Everytime we turned around in a tight Italian spot, it had to be removed and replaced. This does not make for happy campers.
The next day, we pretended we were mountain goats in 35 degree heat with no supplies. This was immediately followed by a long period of no one talking to me. DOUBLE OOPS.
Then, it rained. And rained. And rained. Without end. For days. And Elliot leaked. Like a colander. In a swift turn of events, the teenagers were happy to be in the tent and the adults were the grumpy ones.
So much mud. So few smiles. Time to leave. On our way out of the quagmire, I even got to drive.
Note to self: 80 kms an hour is the speed limit for the trailer. OOPS. Keeping up with traffic was not the right thing to do.
Our next stop was the quintessential Italian town: fair Verona. Mouth droppingly gorgeous. And of course a boob to rub. Sorry, Ju.
On our way back to Munich, the disaster happened. Elliot decided she had had enough of this tour and quit. On the motorway. On a hill. With no hard shoulder. With a convoy of trucks screaming up behind us. Not her finest hour. Many harsh words were spoken. OOPS. OOPS. OOPS.
Note to you all: there is no evidence of a connection to the velocity I was travelling a few days prior.
We managed to get her to restart and we limped to a gas station. From here the lovely people at ADAC saved our bacon. They organised a tow-truck, a local garage and a car with a tow bar for the trailer and someone to drive that car to us from Germany.
A note to the mechanic: We know you told ADAC that our car was too old to be fixed anyway. TOO OLD. This is a 1974 VW T2 Westfalia Camper Van, in her original colour. You are an idiot. Sei un idiota. So, to you I say, “Back the hell away from Elliot. You have NO idea what you are dealing with here!”
So for now, Elliot is at the hospital. And that is a saga in itself. I’ll tell you about that later.
Peace, love and VW
Angela
PSA: ELLIOT NOW HAS HER OWN INSTAGRAM
Instagram.com/the_adventures_of_elliot
The Adventures of Elliot the VW 