#fromrusttotoroadtrip

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

I wash everything by hand in our van- underwear, tops, cardigans, you name it, using whatever river or lake water is available nearby. We take a trip to the laundrette once every two months for our bedding and that’s it. It saves money, but I also enjoy doing it in some weird, old-fashioned way.⁣

Maybe because it reminds me of when I was younger. We were always moving between houses, hauling all of our stuff in this big old yellow Mercedes truck to and fro across two countries. I got used to washing my clothes by hand in the sink of whatever house we were in that month, always a different bedroom or kitchen to get used to.⁣

Maybe that lack of permanence in my formative years is what drove me to eventually get a van. Those memories of brushing my teeth in a lay-by or sleeping in the footwell of our truck seemed like hard done-by times back then, but I look back on them now with a sort of fondness and nostalgia at my unusual childhood.⁣

There are many hundreds of little reasons that made me want to travel; moments that seemed innocuous at the time now resonate with a deeper meaning and inspire me to push on further. Movement is in my soul; it makes my spirit restless to sit still.⁣

Often challenges can be the most defining points of our lives, whether we realise it at the time or only once they have been overcome. Maybe one day we’ll look back at these times we’re living now, cast a fresh gaze upon old memories, and I wonder which of those will stand out, and which will fade away.⁣

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

Lately, if we could sum up our emotions in one word, it would be thankful.⁣

Usually upon returning to the UK after many months of stimulating, enriching travel, with more experiences under our belts than we could put into words, it would be with heavy hearts a deep sense of melancholy.⁣

This time however, we’e feeling relieved to be back on British soil. We’re grateful not to be trapped abroad with no means of supporting ourselves. We’re grateful we have a safe place to stay. And we’re grateful to have found work in these trying times doing something positive for the community.⁣

Our hasty return to the UK was a long and epic tale of border crossings and breakdowns, but that’s a story we will tell in due course.⁣

For now we’re safely tucked away in our little cosy home, living on the bare minimum as always, patching up the rust holes and mending broken parts after another incredible adventure.⁣

Stay safe out there, you guys.⁣

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[We will continue to post photos and stories from our travels until our feed is up to date as we still have a huge backlog 📸]⁣

Tell us: what have you been doing this weekend in isolation to keep yourself occupied? We need some tips!⁣

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

The sunshine on our skin was a feeling we’d long since forgotten, a sensation buried in the backs of our minds. Yet here it was, an unusually warm, dare I say hot day in the hinterlands of rural Albania.⁣

After many months of winter, of snow in Kosovo, freezing fog in Macedonia and countless icy mornings it was a welcome relief and a boost to our morale.⁣

We’d been craving a cool body of water to plunge into and wash away the driving sweat, but we settled for a bag shower on a dirt track nestled amongst the shrubs and canyons with the scent of wild thyme rising hot and citrussy in the air.⁣

I washed our clothes in the sink and hung them out to dry, and we watched the sun climb out of the sky and brush over the mountaintops turning them hazy purple and red. Sunsets could be a thousand shades of gold and orange, pale pink and even the occasional streak of green, but they were always purple here in Albania. The kind of purple that stained the mountain faces and electrified the lake waters; the kind that demanded you stop and watch.⁣

Late at night two men in a van came and dumped ten neat white bags on the ground in front of our van. We assumed they were fly-tippers, but come morning we awoke to the sound of saddles scraping past our van as two men loaded up their mules with the supplies they’d need to take to their village, a sight that always filled us with wonder and curiosity. 𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢�� 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘮𝘶𝘭𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘰? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨?⁣

We said good morning to them, folded up the washing and continued on our journey towards a curious little town named Pukë...⁣

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

When it rains in the mountains, it really rains. Not a fine mizzle or the odd shower like we get in England, but a biblical, all-engrossing rain that pelts down from the sky and sends rivers running down the mountainsides in great waterfalls that flood the roads and make planning any sort of activity quite impossible.⁣⁣

Such is the unpredictability of the Accursed Mountains, a corner of Albania whose curious histories and unique way of life woven amongst its limestone peaks will forever keep us coming back for more.⁣⁣

This fascinating mountain range was so named for its wildly inhospitable conditions, and is one of the rare mountain ranges in Europe that is yet to be fully explored. But mountaineers with their compasses and maps will never truly conquer these mountains, for the only way to truly navigate them is with a lifetime of muscle memory, ingrained into mountain men from the age they learn to walk. There are few roads, no signposted trails, and no forgiveness; if you get lost and the weather doesn’t get you then the wolves surely will.⁣⁣

But while the mountains may ward you off with their inhospitality the people will surely not, as they are perhaps some of the warmest and most welcoming in all the Balkans. With no fear of strangers and no reason to lock their doors some three hours away from the nearest town, they will happily invite you into their home for a coffee and a rakia before you continue on your journey.⁣⁣

The Albanian Alps possess a deep sense of mystery that fascinates us and seems almost tangible as we pull off the craggy SH25 alongside the Drin river, unwilling to drive any further in the torrential downpour. The thunderstorm would not pass until tomorrow evening when we would be rewarded with another spectacular Albanian sunset, but before that we would endure a night of lightning strikes powerful enough to knock out the area’s only phone mast, and thunder that shook us violently inside our van; if you’ve never heard thunder in the mountains before, imagine someone dropping about thirty dustbins off the side of a cliff at once. It booms.⁣⁣

It felt all at once overwhelmingly exciting and familiar to be back in the North of Albania once again, parked up so close to an area we’d become so affiliated with that had played home to one of our favourite travel stories. But now we were about to make more, as we were set to be heading off the road and into the furthest reaches of these mountains on foot, a place where vehicles could only dream to go and mules were the primary mode of transport.⁣⁣

Soon we were going back into the heart of the Accursed Mountains.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

This is our home. She’s a 2002 LDV Convoy, once a minibus, now a cosy cabin on wheels. She’s taken us to places that no minibus was ever designed to go. She’s travelled tens of thousands of miles with us over the past four years. She’s survived roads many 4x4s would cringe at.⁣

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Sure she wobbles and squeaks and moans and the brakes constantly fail and the rust is eating her inside and out, but she’s done us proud this humble van.⁣

Her roaring engine turns heads wherever we go as people stop to stare and read out the letters L... D... V?⁣

It never ceases to amaze me that the simple combustion of fuel that drives our engine can propel our little home all over the world. Our van is both the heart of our adventure and the very thing which enables it.⁣

She’s taught us everything we know about mechanics, roadside repairs, replacing parts, and everything we know about building a home too. The constant problems that come with an old van are both a source of frustration and a motivation to learn, but they sure make for some interesting travel tales.⁣

After all, it wouldn’t be an adventure without a few bumps in the road.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

It’s all too easy to simply pass through somewhere, admiring the scenery from a distance through dusty window panes like the hollow eyes of a TV screen.⁣⠀

It’s much more complex and infinitely more rewarding to engage with life in other countries, to meet people and experience small snippets of culture through them, to learn what it means to be a local in even the most mundane sense, to really 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 a country in a richer, more wholesome way.⁣⠀

When you’ve assimilated into the local way of life, when you’ve learned things that could never be written in any guidebook, that is when one graduates from a tourist into a traveller.⁣⠀

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The people are their country; a country is its people. And to pass through a place blissfully unaware of the locals and their customs is in our eyes to waste an opportunity.⁣⠀

Without those chance encounters, without delving into new cuisines, without saying yes and throwing ourselves into whatever comes out way, how could we ever truly say we’ve seen the world?⁣⠀

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When you travel you open yourself up to a wealth of experiences the world has to offer, both good and bad. But through these experiences you realise that the world isn’t such a dark, scary place as we’re led to believe. Most people we’ve met on our way have been good and kind, hospitable and welcoming. And the bad experiences are just lessons learned for the future.⁣⠀

After all, we wholeheartedly believe that what you put out into the world, is what you receive back.⁣⠀

Be good, be honest, be curious and be kind. And just see where the winds will take you.⁣⠀

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P.S. This might just be my favourite photo from this trip, taken in one of my favourite corners of the world 🌍 ⠀

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

Living in a van for us has only ever been about one thing: adventure.⁣

It’s not about living the dream on a beach somewhere, it’s not about having the most aesthetically pleasing home we could build, it’s about taking that home on wheels out into the big wide world and seeing how far we can push it to its limits.⁣

Our van is a vessel for our photography as we travel around seeking out documentary projects and video opportunities. It’s a place to rest our heads at night before we continue our exploration the next day. It enables us to travel to far flung corners of the countries we visit and encounter locals wherever we go.⁣

Our van to us is so much more than a van; it’s our home, it’s the heart and soul of our adventures, and it’s taught us some valuable lessons along the way.⁣

Whether we’re camped up beside the most serene and peaceful lake or bumping and crashing down a dirt track mountain road praying the suspension doesn’t break she’s there with us, our constant companion. We might be thousands of miles from where we began in a country where we don’t speak the language or broken down by the roadside but we will always have the comfort of our home on wheels to return to standing right there beside us.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

99% of the time our van is not as tidy as it looks in photos.⁣

It’s a tiny space, but it gets messy just as quickly as we can tidy it again.⁣

Camera gear, shopping and clothes end up scattered across the floor, cupboards open while we’re driving, things fall over and smash on bumpy roads.⁣

We squeeze as many days as we can out of our bedding and clothes before we have to wash them again, probably a few too many. When the cab’s not filled with puddles from the rain it’s usually coated in dust and mud.⁣

Living in a van is far from the idyllic few minutes in which we snap the photos for our feed, before the mess overwhelms us again.⁣

It’s challenging living your life in a 6m2 space shared between two of you. Our bed is our sofa, our office, our dining room; our kitchen doubles as a bathroom, a washroom, a hallway.⁣

But that hour in the morning when all the clutter is cleared away, ready for the day’s adventure ahead, and those moments when we crawl into a freshly made bed with clean sheets from the laundrette, it’s little moments like these that seem somehow amplified and make us appreciate the simple things in life all the more.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

Deep canyon walls rose high either side of us as we followed alongside the raging blue river, weaving in and out of craggy rocks and diving through tunnels carved out of the very mountainside itself.⁣⁣

After six short weeks in Albania, which felt like it had lasted both like a lifetime and the blink of an eye, we were now driving North through the Tara Canyon, one of Montenegro’s most impressive natural wonders and the deepest canyon in Europe.⁣⁣

Our journey had begun that morning after an exceptionally rainy day in Albania, and as we waited for the diggers to clear the landslides that blocked the road we were questioning whether we had to leave at all or if we could stay here forever. Our second time in Albania had been just as incredible as the first, and we left with a deeper understanding of the country as well as a handful of new friends.⁣⁣

The border crossing into Montenegro was no more than a remote outpost, lacking in electricity or internet; they wrote down our details by hand, stamped our passports, shouted out the letters “L- D- V!” then a burly uniformed man lifted the barrier by hand and we drove beneath it onto Montenegrin soil.⁣⁣

The sides of Tara Canyon soared up to 1300m above us, higher than our windscreen view would allow, and we found ourselves stopping frequently to admire it with coffees in hand. This was day one of our meandering journey back to the UK, taking in as much of the Western Balkan countries as we could along the way, and our revisit to Montenegro did not disappoint.⁣⁣

Two years ago we’d visited but largely stuck to the coast, afraid of the heavy winter snow further inland; this time round we actively sought it, and were not disappointed as we turned a corner into the Durmitor National Park and found a vast whitewashed landscape spread out before us.⁣⁣

Sadly we couldn’t stick around to enjoy it; with burnt-out glowplugs we were barely coaxing our van into life every morning, and an overnight stint at -7°C would surely leave us stranded.⁣⁣

We drove onwards, following the canyon walls until we arrived at the border to Bosnia & Herzegovina...⁣

P.S. This is actually four photos stitched together to create a vertical panorama- that should give you a sense of how big this canyon is.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

Not every day on the road can be an adventure. We need rest days, van repair days, life admin days.⁣

Days where we just chill, where we sleep in late and sip coffee gazing out of the back doors. Days where we clean the van from top to bottom or catch up on our work. Rainy days spent cosied up under blankets trying to catch the various leaks in our roof.⁣

Contrary to our little highlight reel on here it’s not all epic roadtrips and new discoveries; for every day of exploring there’s a down day closely following behind (or two, or three...). Constant motion is exhausting; travel sometimes overstimulating. We need time to process and digest just as much as we crave new experiences and changing scenery.⁣

As with everything in life it’s all about balance, and the days spent sipping coffee in bed are just as important as the days we’re out scaling mountains.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

Quite often we feel as though we’re travelling through some faraway distant land when we come across scenes like this, and in many ways I suppose we are. But looking at a map of the world, seeing how small and insignificant the miles we’ve covered across Europe are, Albania feels like it’s on our doorstep compared to the journeys we will make one day.⁣

Albania has a unique culture unlike that of any other Balkan country, born of the decades of isolation they faced during the years of communism inflicted on them. They had no contact with the outside world, religion was forbidden and freedom seemed unimaginable.⁣

After the death of dictator Enver Hoxha and the fall of communism, the Albanian people started to recover; they were free to pursue their own lines of work, farm their own animals, and practice religion once more. Now a great majority of the country are Muslim, and the rolling mountain valleys are punctuated by beautifully ornate mosques such as this one in the tiny rural village of Qerret i Madhe.⁣

We spent the afternoon in this village, after a morning of windy tree-planting with @vulnetkuci and @discover_puka, at @agroturizem_devin, sampling the various and delicious homemade products they produced or foraged. We ate pieces of dried persimmon, homemade flija (a traditional dish of layered pancakes and sour cream) and tiramisu made with Turkish coffee washed down with sweet berry juice.⁣

It was fascinating to see how much food could be grown or foraged locally, how one woman and her daughters could live self-sufficiently and thrive.⁣

We thanked them for their time and headed back into Pukë for one final night before we were to travel into the far North.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

Coffee. I could talk for hours about it. Turkish coffee, Bosnian coffee, espresso, mocha, bónbón, iced, hot, sweet, black...⁣

Drunk slowly in the morning, soaking in the view. Knocked back in the passenger seat pulling my shoes on and hurrying to start the day’s adventure. Drunk in a little nowhere cafe over light conversation amidst a silver cigarette smoke haze.⁣

Coffee is integral to the start of any day in the Balkans, be it paired with lokum, or baklava, or a shot of rakia and a cigarette- the Balkan breakfast way.⁣

But possibly the best way to take our coffee is brewed up on a little camp stove inside a chipped old enamel pot, prepared by a warm-hearted local by the fire in their home.⁣

The hospitality in the Balkans is unparalleled, unfaltering, woven into their every way of life. It’s impossible not to feel touched and almost taken aback as we, coming from a country with such closed doors and minds, are not prepared for this level of kindness.⁣

And it’s this warm welcome that will keep us coming back to the Balkans for many many years to come.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

When we converted our van, one part we were always disappointed in was the back doors. We’d tried to cover them up with curtains and tapestries, hide them from view, but we were at a loss for how to make them look like a part of our van. They were just this big ugly expanse of metal and paint that leaked in cold air and made us shiver at night.⁣

Finally, last summer, we decided to do something about it. We drew up a plan, a vision for how we wanted them to look, then spent months trying to bring that vision to life. We have almost no carpentry skills, very basic DIY knowledge, and tended to cover up any unsightly areas in our van rather than address them. This was going to be a big challenge.⁣

But bit by bit we worked it out, pieced things together like one great puzzle, and gradually the final unfinished piece of our van fell into place. First the door cards, insulated and made of out plywood, then the cladding, cut into shape and fitted together like dozens of misshapen puzzle pieces. We charred the wood, added in windows made of Perspex, gave them a lick of blue paint and some adorable curtains to match our van, and finally we could stand back and admire our work.⁣

Our van felt warm and homely, but most importantly it felt finished. After four years of living in it, making constant changes and improvements, finally we were happy to call our tiny home on wheels complete.⁣

Well, until the next bright idea comes along.

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

Alone in the wild.⁣⠀

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We can never truly be alone, no matter how remote we go in our van. Because if we can drive it, someone else can too.⁣⠀

But still we like to find these hidden crevices, areas of land with no purpose and no reason to visit them. We like to tuck ourselves so far out of the way we might not see another person for days, for reasons we can’t explain.⁣⠀

It’s difficult to put into words, my desire to meet people and hear their stories in every corner of the world we go, and the yearning to conceal ourselves away like some childish game of hide and seek, except no one’s going to come looking.⁣⠀

I can’t explain it, but I find solace in knowing I’m not the only one.⁣⠀

In a particular chapter of a very well-known book Jon Krakauer finds himself climbing to the top of an Alaskan mountain so remote it hasn’t seen a visitor in years, risking his life in the snow, all in the name of solitude. The lengths he would go to to escape humankind, and the loneliness that struck him once he was back amongst them- that story sticks in my mind, always.⁣⠀

Some may find unabounded silence and space unnerving, the knowledge that if something goes wrong you’re stuck out here. But we relish in it, the what if’s outweighed by the bliss of isolation. The possibility that maybe, just maybe, not one person has ever camped in this spot before and we might be the first.⁣⠀

The solitude quells our minds as much as it unnerves them, but still the excitement of adventure keeps us pushing onwards into evermore distant corners of the earth.⠀

P.S. Can anyone name the book? 📚

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

When you’re heading into the mountains, preparation is key. And in mountains as remote as the Albanian Alps it’s downright essential.⁣

Unpredictable, wild, vast and unforgiving- these mountains command their presence and dare you explore their impenetrable façade.⁣

We stocked up in the city of Shkodër pre-trip, the nearest amenities to our destination for several hours around. A week’s food, a tank of fuel; everything else we could need was already in our van. The residents of Malesi e Madhe, Albania’s Northernmost corner, grow their own food and slaughter their own meat, with monthly visits to the city for supplies; we would have to follow their lead in stocking up at our last opportunity.

The two hour drive from the city was nothing short of incredible; roads that wound tightly and sharp inclines enough to slow us right down to a walker’s pace. A handful of switchback turns thrown in for good measure on the Leqet e Hotit Pass. All the while overlooked by those imposing, jagged limestone peaks as we wound through the valleys at their mercy.⁣

We stopped for a rest at a point where water gushed from a hole in the rock at a furious speed and trickled down through wooden channels out into the road. Here we made our final preparation, filling our tanks with the freshest spring water and loading them back into the van.⁣

We continued our journey to the small village of Selcë, a place that just a few years ago would’ve been virtually inaccessible to us in our van, now paved with the smoothest tarmac road cutting the residents’ travel time to the city down by half a day. We would spend the night here among terraced mountainsides and sparsely populated houses in preparation for tomorrow’s expedition to begin at sunrise...

[fromrusttoroadtrip]

Living in 6m² of space really teaches you to prioritise what you need in life.⁣

Before we started living in our van Ben lived in a small flat and I lived in a house full of clutter. During uni he moved into an even smaller caravan, and I eventually joined him. Downsizing came naturally to Ben, but it took me years to rid myself of all the junk I’d collected.⁣

By the time we moved into our van we had just a handful of possessions each, only the bare basics; clothes, plates, blankets, our all-important camera gear. Yet still we continued to minimise, leaving behind anything we hadn’t used in the past few months, choosing between spare parts and extra shoes and selecting only the most essential items for our trips.⁣

When we came to embark on our third long roadtrip we were surprised at how empty the back of our van looked- had we forgotten something? Where was all the stuff that had once filled that space? Were we just ultra minimalists now?⁣

Having just a few cupboards and shelves for storage has forced us to live minimally, but it’s also taught us what few essentials we really need. It seems frivolous to need more than one pair of jeans, several sets of cups or heaps of items for “just in case”.⁣

We’ve mastered the art of having just enough and we feel happier for it, our shoulders lighter without all these pointless possessions to weigh us down. Everything we need fits inside this van of ours, and everything we want is waiting right outside our door.