At the border between Bosnia and Croatia, we swelter away for an hour and a half in a traffic jam in 36°C heat. Back in the realm of EU roaming, we choose the penultimate stop of our journey.
By the end of June, almost all campsites in Croatia and Slovenia have gone completely mad. Between 50 and 100 € a day for a tent, two adults and a child – without a car or electricity – is the norm. Only one site still accepts our ACSI Card for a modest 25 €. (more…)
Roadtrip26: In Una National Park
On our journey north to Una National Park, we cross the Livno karst field. Measuring 65 by up to ten kilometres, it is the world’s largest periodically flooded karst basin. The landscape is strongly reminiscent of the central plains of New Zealand’s South Island: endlessly flat, vast and, now in summer, dry. Only the ancient Lada jeep that comes towards you every quarter of an hour reminds you that you are somewhere else.
It was right here that the fiercely contested front line ran during the Bosnian War from 1991 to 1995. The Livno Basin is scarcely inhabited. For every four houses destroyed in the war or simply abandoned, there is perhaps one that is still inhabited. The Serbs were almost entirely driven out during the war. (more…)
Roadtrip26: Soccer World Cup in Mostar
Bosnia and Herzegovina beat Qatar 3–1 in the World Cup. This means they might reach the round of 16. The result? Flares. Fireworks and loud firecrackers. Tears of joy. Motorcades with three-metre-high flags. When Germany reached the semi-finals during the ‘Summer Fairy Tale’ of 2006, the celebrations were considerably more subdued.
We Germans lost our sense of joy a long time ago. Yet there’s still so much we’re good at: being punctual. Reliable. Innovative. When I look at Germany in 2026, it strikes me as the exact negative mirror image of the Bosnians’ joy in football. We grumble, whinge, argue – and completely forget what we stand for. (more…)
Roadtrip26: Rock bottom in Osumi Canyon
The Osumi Canyon is not the deepest canyon in Europe. One day before we leave Greece, we add it to our return journey itinerary. Situated in the very remotest mountainous region of Albania, even the journey to the Osumi Canyon gets off to a bad start.
Google Maps says “five and a half hours from Meteora, including tolls and border control”. Then the landlady messages us: “The route via Përmet is currently only accessible by jeep”. Yet that would have been exactly the route we’d planned to take. The detour adds a whopping 150 km and two and a half hours to the already lengthy journey. Two and a half hours for 150 km? (more…)
Roadtrip26: Meteora
From Olympia, we continue along small roads through the Peloponnese countryside to Patras. The ro-ro ferries to Andirrio are loaded and unloaded quite quickly. Unfortunately, this time we’ve ended up on the ‘backwards’ ferry. Everything takes considerably longer here – with just five centimetres between us and the next lorry.
We’ve got a very long way to go today. For the first time, we’re taking a long stretch of motorway. From Ioannina onwards, the A2 motorway becomes quite spectacular. Here, it consists almost entirely of bridges and tunnels. It climbs to an altitude of up to 1,050 metres, leading deep into the Pindos Mountains. (more…)
Roadtrip26: Two fingers to Olympia
We continue along deserted roads and past blue bays across the two western fingers of the Peloponnese. A small sign in the middle of nowhere offers a modest cup of coffee. A delicatessen, unknown even to Google Maps, situated right by the country road north-west of Itylo, surprises us with its selection of over 3,000 affordable local delicacies.
Our destination for the day is Finindouka, a village that’s still quite peaceful on the western finger of the Peloponnese. The campsite is situated right on a private beach, criss-crossed by a small river, complete with parasols and sun loungers. After a good four weeks on the road, we bid farewell to the sea here. (more…)
Roadtrip26: Gythion Bay
The journey itself remains our goal. So we plan to cross the Peloponnese from north to south along small country roads. At Diakopto, we leave the coast and drive steeply uphill through the Voraikos Gorge into the interior.
The rock faces glow red in the morning sun. From the third hairpin bend onwards, the mountain transforms into a ring cake. The drop is at least 50 metres. There are no safety barriers whatsoever – just as there were no memorials to road deaths the first time we were in Greece. Presumably they simply lie 200 m further down in the canyon. (more…)
Roadtrip26: Freakspotting @ Cape Drepano
A local asked me not to write anything about Cape Drepano. I’m doing it anyway, because none of the reports I’ve read even began to hint at just how dangerous the spot is. Cape Drepano is definitely not for at least 95% of all kiters.
We leave Lefkada early and make good progress southwards thanks to a few toll-free kilometres of motorway. For the rest of the journey, we take the old A-road to Andirrio. Deserted ghost villages beside the motorway tell of the loss of all income. (more…)
Roadtrip26: Absolution @ Lefkada
Once past the Greek border, the journey continues along narrow country roads through the deep Kalamas Gorge in the rugged Pindos Mountains. An invasive fungus is currently transforming the plane trees here – some of which are several hundred years old – into eerie-looking tree zombies. Isolated villages lie deserted in the midday heat.
The speed limit in Greece settles at ‘20 over’, almost in line with European standards. The frequency of roadkill remains extremely high and overtaking is 100% unregulated. Apart from a few kilometres around Split and the tunnel through the Ambracian Gulf near Preveza, we’ve driven the entire 2,600 km here completely toll-free. The first pita gyros in Preveza is well deserved. The Smurf is absolutely thrilled. (more…)
Roadtrip26: Albania vs Trump
Crossing the border from Montenegro into Albania is actually quite quick. In theory. You just have to make sure you move forward within five seconds at most. Otherwise, someone will push in. As there are also loads of motorcyclists pushing in, it ends up taking nearly an hour and a half. Over the last 100 metres before the border, for every two people who’ve been processed, two more push their way to the front. Loud shouting escalates almost into a brawl. Then the second lane opens.
In northern Albania, the roads are absolutely rubbish. Deep potholes, traffic jams and the most idiotic speed limits take you past countless shrines to road deaths, each the size of a proper mausoleum. Two Italian Hells Angels clear the way for us through a few police checkpoints. Montenegro’s flag is red. Red is the rule. “60” means “at least 60 km/h”. The driving style here is a touch rougher than in Montenegro. We are in the Wild East. (more…)
Roadtrip26: Poor, rich Montenegro!
To be honest, I don’t remember much about my last trip to Montenegro. Wild Hilde picked me up at home in her car. We drove non-stop for 24 hours in shifts, down dirt tracks and through goat pastures all the way to Ulcinj. As the wind remained more than a bit of a breeze for two weeks, the nights turned into one big storm.
Today, a good ten years later. At Croatia’s southern border, we wait two and a half hours to cross. The 190 km to Ulcinj is one long roadworks zone. We cut across the bay at Kotar on a short car ferry. This previously unknown vessel becomes a pirate ship for the little Smurf. Immediately afterwards, we encounter real pirates. They stand behind the counter at Burger King and demand far more gold than one would find in German climes. (more…)
Road Trip 26: Croatia
From Grado, we head via Trieste and Slovenia along narrow country roads to Nin, in the heart of Croatia. The little one is enjoying the trip to the full. Nin is often described as Croatia’s windiest kitesurfing spot. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case at all during our visit.
A stretch of calm doesn’t matter, because our lovely little campsite in Zlaton has a swimming pool. The Smurf is over the moon, the neighbours are friendly and the beer is cold. A few metres down to the sea, the sun sinks into a fireworks display as a sundowner. (more…)
Road Trip 26: Austria, Slovenia & Italy
Our parental leave road trip begins on narrow roads through southern Bavaria, heading towards Salzburg. In Obertauern, the little Smurf challenges us to a snowball fight with the last remnants of winter. We drive toll-free over the steep Karawanken Pass to our first stop near Villach, at a small farm. The landlady, originally from Berlin, has found her home and her calling. A little one is delighted by the trampoline, treehouse, goats, horses and a brilliant breakfast.
Early the next morning, we carry on over the Wurzen Pass into Slovenia. During the First World War, more people died here from hunger and cold than from the fierce fighting. Today, we have enjoyed peace for a long time. These days, peace is probably no longer held in particularly high regard. Uphill, whole squadrons of road cyclists battle their way to the pass summit in 25°C heat, sweating buckets. Downhill, one of them keeps in contact with our rear bumper for a long time through tight bends at 80 km/h. Unlike his forebears, however, he reaches Slovenia alive. (more…)
Quo Vadis, Germania?
Leaving has never been harder. Our almost four-year-old little human has developed rough edges and now shows strengths and weaknesses. She couldn’t be better with all of them. As much as she pushed me to my limits again and again last year, I will miss her immensely during my month in Sinai.
I am leaving a country that is falling apart. The economic situation has never been more tense. There has never been less cohesion. I have never identified myself as “German”. But even at the railway station I miss the homeland I had forgotten at home: my Donautaler, the best bread in the world, with butter, chives and fleur du sel. (more…)
Abolish the fixed school holidays!
What comes after a lifetime of travelling? Short journeys? Travelling home? Not travelling at all? An ice age? Or just keep travelling? On a short trip to visit a good old kiteboarding friend behind the Swabian Alb, I realise that I’ve only been kitesurfing for 1:40 hours all year. That’s the lowest figure for a quarter of a century – and clearly too little for a good life and healthy body tension.
But my father urges me to take responsibility. So we go on a four-day short family holiday with a tent in Baden-Württemberg instead of a solo flight with the kites. The little one rejoices with the three children of our friends. Together with our friends, we spend short yet far too long nights finding out what family-friendly kitesurfing destinations are still affordable during the holiday season. (more…)
Guns’n’Roses @ Rock for people 2025
I still had a bone to pick with Axl Rose for 33 years. Shortly before leaving school, we travelled to Würzburg in the midsummer of 1992 for the “Use Your Illusion” tour of our childhood heroes. I had the ticket long before the plaster cast on my leg.
We survived Faith No More way out in front. Then it would have been Guns’n’Roses’ turn. Would have been. But Axl Rosette was a real diva back then. In Würzburg too. He kept us waiting for more than two hours in bright sunshine at over 30°. The girls were keeling over en masse long before he appeared. Paramedics whistled “Civil War” at the top of their voices. Stewards cooled us down with water hoses. (more…)
Warp Sard To Cagliari
You can’t understand Sardinian speed limits. You can only ignore them. On the long drive back south to the last stop on our two-week, 1,850 kilometre journey, this becomes almost painfully clear once again.
Sardinian speed limits are Dadaism in its purest form: completely devoid of meaning. A higher power has shat them directly into the brains of the legislature from a great height. There was a storm cell in between. The poo froze in it. Unfortunately, its now harder consistency caused irreparable damage to the danger centre of the Sardinian legislature’s brain on impact. (more…)
The lords of Galtelli Castle & good old friends in La Caletta
Relief from the loss of all 18 years of travel stories only comes the next morning. After a night with almost no sleep, I am infinitely groggy. But also full of hope when my good hoster Vautron writes that they were able to restore my 750 travelogues from several incremental database backups and also fix any database errors.
Without checking, we set off for the next destination on our journey. Galtelli is located in the mountainous hinterland near the famous Cala Gonone in the east. The time-honoured village is fast asleep. Like so many others before us, check-in is completely online. Our accommodation for the next few days is a real castle, the Castello Malicas. Directly in front of the castle is an ancient rock tomb, surrounded by the large green municipal park and behind it the 806 metre high rocky Monte Tuttavista. (more…)
I’m off then…
Spoiler: this travelogue has absolutely nothing to do with Hape Kerkeling, the Way of St James or self-discovery. But a hell of a lot to do with self-definition.
The colourful medieval houses of Bosa are enchanting without any official bans on the use of toilet stone colours. Even blind Italians probably have more reliable good taste when it comes to choosing the colours of their houses than Germans do when it comes to shoes in general.
Castelsardo, which is on the way, has changed a lot since my last visit a few years ago. The little girl’s comment on the oil-on-wood works in the castle’s “art museum” is enchantingly short and to the point: “bäh”. (more…)
Sardinia’s wild west
The journey continues northwards across Sardinia’s wild west. In the Iglesias region, over 2,000 years of mining history have transformed the landscape into a Swiss cheese. Similar to the Ruhr region, history is only just beginning to be converted into new jobs.
We visit the Nebida mine beneath rust-brown mountain slopes. We then continue on to Porto Flavia, an impressive piece of mining under Belgian management from the late 1920’s. Our Smurf enthusiastically trolls with us through deep, dark tunnels. The Galeria Henri in Buggeru is unfortunately closed. (more…)
Sant’Antioco, Chia & Punta Trettu
It’s been far too many years since we both last visited Sardinia. We know the north well. This time we are focussing on the south. From Cagliari airport, it’s an hour’s 80 km drive by hire car to the small island of Sant’Antioco in the south-west. Our accommodation is located right at the highest point of the beautiful old town next to the basilica. Flamingos dine in the surrounding lagoons at sunset.
Even after Easter, Sardinia is anything but awake. Everything is empty, stress-free and cosy. 25 to 30° is much more pleasant than the constant 13° of rain I experienced on my last visit at the same time of year. You can still kite on almost every beach that is closed from June at the latest and wild camping is still a mass sport. (more…)
1,400 km road trip through Crete
We spend two weeks travelling all over Crete with the little one. Avoiding the storm on the west coast, we first land in Platanias. Almost everything is still closed before the Greek Orthodox Easter.
The sea is boiling with 13°C water and 17°C air in big waves. Our small flat is right behind it. But the wind is a little too lusty for me to be thrown into a frosty second kite session without a wetsuit. (more…)
Micro Magic Kite Bliss @ Elafonisi
Our 20-year-old travel guide already describes Elafonisi as the “lost paradise”. Elafonisi only makes it onto our list because there are a few references to the fact that you could probably kitesurf in the turquoise-blue paradise lagoon from time to time. In general, information about kitesurfing on Crete is more than sparse on the internet. But there are spots where you are allowed to kitesurf. You can only find them with the help of locals.
The forecast for Elafonisi is quite good for one day. The journey from Guaves to the south-west corner of Crete takes a good three and a half hours. The often single-lane road first leads over a winding pass to high above a spectacular canyon. Dozens of stalls sell organic honey, olives and raki. The road then descends almost as steeply through an idyllic valley to the sea. (more…)
Walrus rolling in wild East Crete
Crete is my eighth and by far the largest of all the Greek islands I have visited. The family arrives with a stopover in Viennese style. Even at Easter, the sheer endless competition from car hire companies knocks car hire prices below the price of scooters in developing countries.
Our booked basic hotel suffers from construction delays. We are rebooked at the 5-star all-inclusive Guaves Waterpark Resort. The little one enjoys gigantic children’s pools and dad unlimited pita gyros with a few cocktails. (more…)
Golf de Roses
We’re hardly here before we’re gone again. A month is like a day. We set off from Tarifa at sunset. We head into the hinterland via Malaga on empty roads. A graduation ball is raging behind a lonely petrol station in the middle of nowhere. In the café next door, people are getting married on posh chalets over plastic chairs.
The lights of Granada pass by in the dark. Up into the desert and always follow the central reservation through the night. Lost Highway. The coffee fizzles out after midnight. After three o’clock we change every hour. Squalls at sunrise in the Ebro Delta. Barcelona in the morning. (more…)
The Author
Frank Woelky, born in 1973. Kitesurfer since 1998. Since 2006, I have been combining kitesurfing and web design on trips lasting several months off the beaten track.