Overlanding in Western Europe

A writes: Pushing through Western Europe felt like a calculated mission, eyes fixed on the Balkans where the first “real” adventure awaited. We resisted the urge to detour, determined to cross France and Italy swiftly without getting sidetracked. But between Annecy’s crystalline shores, through to Veneto’s rolling hills, the Alps and serene lakes crashed into our plans like a scenic ambush, reminding us not to discount the stunning nature surrounding us.

As we arrived in Annecy, with the surrounding mountains reflecting onto the clear water of the lake, I was eager to spend 2 nights there, a bit of a change of pace for us. We drove along the curving roads that clung to the lake’s edge, windows down, inhaling crisp alpine air while dog owners tossed frisbees and runners pounded the paths, all basking in the paradise around them. One afternoon, we hiked up to Pointe de la Rochette, a short but rewarding walk leading us to panoramic view of the lake, followed by a detour to the patisserie at L’Auberge du Père Bise. As we savoured our flaky pastries, I was already plotting her return next April for the cherry blossoms in full, petal-storming bloom.

In Annecy, I began feeling unwell and we sought medical attention at a local urgent care centre. We were seen swiftly and given the medication I required.

When time came to sadly leave Annecy, we decided to drive through the Mont Blanc Tunnel to catch some striking views of the mountain range. Unfortunately the cloudy skies had other plans and after a hefty road toll, the views remained out of reach. As we crossed into Italy on the other side of Monte Blanco, we were surprised to see snowflakes swirling around us, blanketing the valleys in white. This wasn’t the sun-drenched Italy of our imaginations, no olive groves or gelato stands in sight. Instead, a winter wonderland greeted us.

We then made our way to Piedmont, where we spent 2 nights in an agroturismo in the village of Monte Roero, famous for its Roero rock formations. Our host at L’Ottavo Sapore, Elletra was very welcoming and helpful at every opportunity. As my illness worsened, she took us to a doctor in the nearby village for a consultation, but ultimately we made the decision to fly back to the UK from Turin reluctantly leaving our Fujimama parked in private car park near the airport ☹️.

We resumed our trip 10 days later, refuelled, recovered and ready to go. We picked up the car from the car park, a bit weary after finding the central console (the plastic bit that covers the gear box) had been dislodged, something unlikely to occur unless peeled off. The car park manager tried to assuage our concerns, but we left feeling uncertain of what had happened but also reassured that our belongings remained intact. we spent the night at a homely Airbnb 20 minutes from the airport, waking up to a beautiful view of the Piedmont coountryside.

After restocking the car with additional supplies from the UK and a new set of traction boards, we made our way across northern Italy to lake Garda. Spring was in full bloom…

V writes: We had only arrived in Garda yesterday evening, had a light dinner and caught up on some much needed sleep. Even though I had some work to do today, we made the most of the morning with an early-ish start and drive around the southern shores of the lake. We found a lovely cafe, Miss Pia, where I could comfortably work from (despite the loud music - noise cancelling headphones are magic) and tucked into several hot and cold drinks and a tasty zucchini padellino. After work was wrapped up, we set off to the Dolomites

A writes: As we made the journey from lake Garda to the Dolomites, through the regions of Trento and Veneto, we found the perfect spot for a lunch break by a lake we’d never heard of before: Lago di Caldonazzo. This small, unpretentious, unassuming lake stands worlds apart from glamorous giants like Como and Garda, but on par with their pure, effortless charm.

The Dolomites hit us like an icy spectacle after the balmy, sun-drenched shores of Lake Garda. With temperatures hovering near zero, we ducked into a cozy yet delightfully old-school B&B for warmth. The towns we passed were ghost-quiet: ski season had wrapped up, and summer crowds were still months away.