The ferry docks a bit later than expected and then the farce of Italian immigration begins. Two officials have set up a long table in one of the lobbies on the ferry, with queues helpfully labelled 'EU nationals' and 'non EU', so everyone dutifully lines up. Our queue doesn't seem to get anywhere, people keep being turned back and tempers seem to be getting pretty frayed (all in Italian, of course). When we finally ask one of the ferry staff what's going on, it turns out that the signs are irrelevant and the immigration officers only want to see people who booked tickets in advance (as they're already in the system) - good news for us as it means we can go ahead, but meanwhile the place has descended into chaos, with everyone shouting and waving their fists. 'Is it always like this?' we ask the guy from the ferry company. 'Very quiet today,' he answers wearily, 'it's usually much worse...'
Finally, our passports are inspected and we can drive onto European soil. At the bottom of the ramp, we have a slight delay as a policeman wants to see our insurance certificate. We duly show our valid UK certificate (UK insurance is automatically valid for third party cover in all EU countries as this is a legal requirement, but of course being British it doesn't bother to mention this, even if he could read English) but he's only interested in a green card (which UK insurers, unlike those in other European countries, only give out to you for short periods on request and on payment of extra money). As it's totally unnecessary to have more than third party cover, we don't have this, but luckily we had prepared for the possibility of being asked for insurance in some remote part of Africa where we couldn't organise insurance and had prepared our own 'green card' for every country we planned to visit on our trip. Never used it in Africa, but it certainly came in handy in Sicily!
A quick inspection from Customs, and we are officially back in the EU. It doesn't feel that much like the EU, though. The driving style is pretty crazy and there are horns blasting all around us. We head across the island, to the town of Catania, where our friend Pietro lives, to meet up with him for the afternoon and evening. The scenery en route is amazing and we vow to come back and explore Sicily properly another time (when we've got more than a day to do it in). On the way to Pietro's place we have another experience that reminds us not to relax and think 'we're back in Europe' just yet. A guy on a scooter suddenly slows down in front of us and starts waving and smiling. Thinking that this could be someone we know, or someone who's heard about us from Pietro, we slow down almost to a standstill. Suddenly, my door is whipped open and another guy is grabbing into the space at my feet. Before I can even take in what's happened, he's shut the door and both guys have disappeared on their scooters. We're dead sure there wasn't anything at my feet - the only thing we ever keep in that place is a bag of rubbish when we're looking for a bin to put it in and (perhaps unfortunately) we don't have any rubbish today - but it all happened so fast that we start to doubt whether there could have been something to steal. Obviously all respectable ladies keep their handbags in just such a place, but this lady hasn't had anything to do with a handbag for almost two years... With a mixture of shock and relief we head on to Pietro's house, where he takes a very dim view of the activities of his fellow countrymen and apologises profusely for their behaviour. By now we've recovered from our surprise and think of it as a bit of a joke, but it has taught us to be a bit more wary. Ironic that we never had an experience like that in all the supposedly 'dangerous' countries we've visited since we left Europe!
It's great to see Pietro again and meet his family and we have a lovely afternoon wandering around the picturesque centre of Catania, visiting the cathedral and the university and generally soaking up the atmosphere. Pietro's father treats us to a lovely dinner at a great relaxed restaurant down at the docks and his tiny and adorable aunt puts us up for the night in her apartment (with off-street parking so we don't have to worry about the Landy - phew). Even though we have to leave at the crack of dawn she insists on getting up (and wearing full makeup!) to make us coffee and see us off!
By now it's 22nd December and we need to stick to a tight deadline to be home for Christmas so the rest of the day involves lots of driving - admittedly through beautiful scenery, especially on Sicily and in southern Italy. Apart from the scenery, the highlight of the journey is the gorgeous fresh sandwiches at all the motorway service stations - another area where British cuisine could learn something from the Italians! After a meal at a roadside restaurant remembered from Roel's days as a driver, we press on into the small hours and finally set up our rooftent at a service station in Northern Italy. Next day, we cross into Switzerland and make our way west to a small village near Schaffhausen, where our friends Chris and Tamara (whom we met travelling in Australia) live in the most beautiful picture-postcard wooden Swiss house. Crossing Switzerland the temperature gradually drops and by the time we reach their house everywhere is a winter wonderland of snow. Despite this, Chris comes out to greet us in bare feet! We are given a really warm welcome and have a lovely evening with Chris and Tamara, eating the traditional Swiss meal of raclette (potatoes, vegetables, fried meats and melted cheese, all cooked to your own liking at the table) - delicious! After dinner, we visit the waterfall in Schaffhausen, where the viewing platform is a mass of icicles and eerily beautiful. We're really sad to say goodbye in the morning - we don't know when we'll be back in Switzerland or when they'll have the chance to visit us in the Netherlands, but we hope we'll keep in touch.
It's really cold as we leave Chris and Tamara's place - so cold we have to use the second battery to jump start the Landy! - but it feels really special to be driving back on Christmas Eve in this wintry weather. Stopping for a bite to eat off the motorway in Germany we unexpectedly meet Dick, a friend of Roel's from his truck-driving days, and it reminds us that soon we'll be seeing lots of our friends again. In the middle of the afternoon, we cross the border into the Netherlands and then it's only a short drive to Roel's parents' house and the end of our trip. We haven't told them we're coming, so it's a bit of a surprise for them to open the door and see us standing there! We haven't told my parents either, so as soon as we've said hello to Roel's family I slip off and ring to let them know that we're home safe. Our trip has really ended. On the one hand, it's sad that such a great experience is over, but somehow the fact that it's Christmas distracts us and we're excited to think that we're going to see all our friends and family again, not to mention all the challenges of our new life in the Netherlands that await us in the New Year...