What can I say about Harry? Among all the people we met on this adventure Harry is the one person among the many we met who I shall never forget. As we enthusiastically waved our sign to Salzburg a convertible black VW with the hood down screeched to a halt. As I ran up to the car he introduced himself to me. Harry from Heidelberg, on his way to Yugoslavia to spend a few days with a girlfriend who lived there. In exchange for our ‘lively’ company he offered us a ride all the way into Yugoslavia. Little did we know what to expect.
Cathy was crammed into the back with all the luggage and I was in the front passenger seat with – I kid you not – a radio / record player balanced on my knees. And that’s how we drove. Throughout the rest of Bavaria, throughout the whole of Austria. We stopped once for a meal and to put the hood up when the air became a little too cool. We were in a typical Austrian inn with the steep roofline, the wooden shutters and balconies and pots of bright red pelargoniums. We ate salami and cheese and hunks of fresh crusty bread and drank beer with orangeade! After the meal Harry fooled around for half an hour playing an ancient out of tune piano and we all sang old tunes from a juke box before tumbling out into the evening to continue on the road.
We carried on singing to songs on the radio to keep Harry awake, though I had an idea he was popping a few pills. We looked out for the road signs as we wove our way through the mountains arriving in Llubljana by midnight which is where Cathy and I were going to leave and head inland. But Harry had other ideas and persuaded us to carry on with him down the Dalmatian coast telling us we would miss the best part of Yugoslavia. I think he just wanted the company and to keep him awake.
And so onwards towards the coast road. We were tired, our voices hoarse from singing when we pulled in at a town around 6 am for the loo and breakfast. It was already warm and the breakfast revived us so we carried on. Harry wasn’t wrong. The scenery was spectacular. The road wound in and out of inlets with sharp bends and narrow stretches where there had been rockfalls. Beautiful little hamlets, clear stretches of the bluest sea we’d ever seen and at the other side of the road, dramatic mountains.
But as time wore on and the sun became hotter, we ran out of words and were too exhausted to take in the scenery so at midday we finally said goodbye to Harry as he dropped us off at a campsite by the side of the water at Trogir, seventeen miles from Split.
He had been driving for close on 18 hours.
TRAVEL WORDS 
I am glad you made it in one piece
So far so good…
Risky business! Glad that the three of you made it in one piece. I remember doing dodgy things like that too when I was that age. My parents would have been apoplectic if they had known some of the things.
Wow. What an adventure, and one which I doubt if you’d embark on now that you’re older and worldly-wise. But good to have in your memory box! By the way, your last photo isn’t displaying – to me, anyway.
I’ll have a look at the photo. Maybe I used it in the following post instead.
Nor to me, Jude! Trogir, that is. I hope he made it safely to his destination. I don’t suppose you ever heard of him again? Happy Sunday! xx
Nah, never heard from most of the people we met. Just one or two of the English ones.
No, I can’t see Trogir either, just a white box with a question mark. I’m glad you made it in one piece too – I’m sure your older self recognises the huge risks in driving that for long especially along windy roads! I expect you felt invincible then.
I can see why Harry stuck in your memory! I have fond memories of Trogir, and Split, from a much more sedate visit.
An adventurous journey – glad you managed to keep Harry awake!
Indeed.
Crikey! I thought 10 hours was bad enough,..,
Yes, I think 10 hours is about the longest I have driven.
😁
I think I’ve been driving quite long enough at three hours, maybe four tops! Trogir is lovely but the winding roads round there would be challenging at any time, let alone after so long on the road (and a few pills!)
18 hours driving, even with a break for food and piano playing, is a lot. Especially when you got to those winding coast roads. I agree with you, that he must have popped some pills to keep him alert.
Best wishes, Pete. x