Crazy cast of motorhoming mates keeps us entertained

ONE day, I tell myself, I’ll write the Great American Novel. Then I have to remind myself that I’m neither great, nor American, nor a novelist.

Nevertheless, I’ve always been inspired by Kerouac’s seminal ’50s classic On the Road, and the more we grind out the miles on our increasingly epic European vacation, the more I’m reminded that the Beat Generation he eulogised has an echo in the characters we meet along the way.

But while I’ll never come close to capturing the zeitgeist like Kerouac, I’m still going to try to identify some of the modern-day Dean Moriartys of the motorhoming world.

Retro Reg Reg, with his cherished plate W4 NDR on a customised 1976 Bedford van, is a 73-year-old former roadie for Uriah Heep who went AWOL from their 1984 comeback tour of US army bases in Germany and, after a particularly bad acid trip, decided to see what was “out there”. He picked up a 17-year-old hitch-hiker, Brunhilde, in Oberammergau and they’ve been together ever since.

They know all the dope dealers between Murmansk and Gibraltar, survive on state handouts and soul food sales at European rock festivals and keep everyone else on the campsite awake until the early hours with their ear-splitting music, usually Golden Earring, Van Der Graf Generator, Focus and, predictably, the Heep.

If you’re unlucky, Brunhilde will show you her tattoos, chronicling the atrocities of the Stasi in great detail.

Know-it-all Neville While Nev has a heart of gold and just wants to help, he inevitably comes across as a massive pain in the neck thanks to his rhino-thick skin and his desire to pass on the knowledge acquired from 37 years (“this September”) of motorhoming.

“I saw you looking at a map and wondered if you needed some guidance,” is his standard opening gambit. This is inevitably followed by a 90-minute, illustrated (“I’ll just get the laptop and show you my PowerPoint presentation”) talk on the wonders of Estonia. Lonesome George Incredibly, George, from the Home Counties, is travelling on his own and, after seven weeks zig-zagging across the Spanish hinterland, is desperate for company and just wants to talk.

“Been away long? I bet you’ve seen some places. Have you seen my new gadget? Can I recommend this excellent debit card? It will save you a fortune in currency charges.”

All this before we’ve been properly introduced.

This is the third year in a row George has travelled without his wife (“she prefers to stay at home and work”) but he enjoys the peace and the solitude, although it takes at least three “we’d better let you go” interjections before he disappears and lets us get on with our chores.

The Caravanista Hans, a 27-yearold hipster from Hamburg, is taking a year out from his job as a freelance computer game designer, swapping circuit boards for surf boards and chasing the perfect wave.

Already, he’s ridden the mighty rollers off the Portuguese west coast and spent a month in Tarife at Spain’s southern tip.

His custom-built VW camper features a rooftop sun lounge where he enjoys his first roll-up of the day but as there are no windows in the habitation section it’s also the only place in his van where he gets any fresh air. Hans, a self-professed anarchist, objects to paying for campsites and, instead, spends the nights in restaurant car parks, having first charmed the waitresses into giving him some free food.

Winnebago Walter Walt and his wife Davinia have just retired. Both were headteachers at progressive private schools in west London and, with the lump sums from their pensions, have bought an enormous, American RV-style wagon that is clearly too big for either their needs or their ability to manoeuvre it properly. It’s the kind of bus that Hollywood superstars retreat to while filming on location. Not only does it have its own satellite dish, it has its own satellite! On the few campsites with the space to accommodate him and his rig, Walter spends more than an hour squeezing it into a pitch space while Davinia guides him in using their own walkietalkie system. As a result, the van is already on its third clutch and they’ve only had it since May. Davinia is considering an offer to return to the teaching profession, at a failing comprehensive in Crouch End.

Next time: Adios Spain