In the summer of 1972, we have just finished our ‘A’ level exams. Having worked hard, we – that is myself and my good friends Walid & Saad -thought that we would reward ourselves with a 3-week holiday to Europe. To keep our costs down we decided to go driving in my old Austin 1100 and rather than staying in expensive hotels, we would be camping, for which we borrowed an old tent from friends of ours.
When we arrived at Dover at passport control prior to boarding the ferry to France, we handed in our passports to an officer, only for another officer to come out of that office and stare intently at us and the car. Oh dear, problems already?! Then he just mockingly said ‘you guys travelling to Europe in this CAR?’ Phew that was a relief. To which I replied ‘we will be seeing you here in 3 weeks in this very car’ and everybody burst out laughing.
We spent a week camping around Paris, enjoying this magnificent city with its great monuments, steeped history, and high culture. Just simply wonderful. Then we decided to move to our next country – West Germany (Germany was still divided then). We drove on a Saturday morning, after some 400 km and 6 hour drive, we arrived at the German border. In those days you could get visas at the border crossing points. Anyway, this was what we were hoping for. The German officers were quite friendly and things were looking hopeful. Then an American officer came. He seemed to be in real command. He took our passports and had them stamped. When we asked what the stamp was about, which was in German, a language none of us three spoke, he charmingly said that as they were not authorised to issue visas at the border, it was best to go back to Nancy (in France) and approach the German consulate there, the stamp will help.
So we drove back 100 km to Nancy, we headed to a nearby campsite. By that time it was already pretty late. We hit the bed (or the sleeping bag) as we were very tired. However, our sleep was soon interrupted as the rain came and it came hard. Water was seeping through the old tent and we had no choice but to abandon the tent and try and get some sleep in the car. Sunday came, of course everything was shut, so we had to survive on whatever left of our provisions. We were also low on fuel so we were stuck in this small nondescript town. We were waiting for Monday in anticipation.
When Monday came, we noticed that it was no different from Sunday. Everything was also shut. Oh dear, it turned out it was a bank holiday. At this point a deep sense of depression hit us. To make matters worse, we had no food left and the one or two shops that were open would not take our English Travellers Cheques (you need a bank then to change currency – this was the time when bank cards & ATMs were in their infancy). Now when Saad got hungry, he simply would lose it and pile more misery upon an already miserable situation. However, the day was saved when I remembered that a friend of mine in England gave me the equivalent of a couple of pounds in Belgian Francs (remember all this was before the EU and the Euro). A shop accepted the money in exchange for bread and cheese. What a relief.
Tuesday came, it was a sunny day, banks were open, and so we changed our pounds into French Francs. We headed cheerfully to the German consulate, who promptly refused to grant us visas, so much for the helpful stamps! Feeling disconsolate and looking for other options, we were then directed to the Luxembourg consulate. This turned out to be an old dental practice and the consul was none other than the old dentist himself, who without hesitation left his patients, went into the office and dusted his old files to find a visa stamp that he proudly applied to our passports for a mere £1 each. We left him feeling very happy and we proceeded to discover Holland (Netherlands), Belgium and Luxembourg (the three countries were known as the Benelux countries and shared the same visa).
By the end of our enjoyable and adventurous European tour, we headed back to good old England, unfortunately we failed to see that same officer at Dover, as we wanted to upset him with our triumphal return in the good old Morris 1100.