Typically, our journey from the Czech Republic to Croatia was far from uneventful. His lordship, not a great believer in modern technology, refuses to buy a SatNav. Her ladyship’s map-reading skills are, as we already know, quite woeful, and as neither of them puts much stock in planning, preferring to just follow their elderly noses wherever they may lead them, the return journey was yet another mystery tour – eine Fahrt ins Blaue.

And a very big Fahrt it turned out to be.

His lordship declared that we’d leave early (i.e. at the crack of 9am) and would be installed in a campsite somewhere in Bavaria by 3pm. At 7pm, we had just set up in a campsite in Villach, Austria, not far from the Slovenian border and were wolfing down some Schnitzels, not having eaten all day. We’d just driven on and on, past the non-existing campsites, past the very existing roadworks and diversions, up the steep and scary Alpine roads that we shouldn’t have been on in the first place, certainly not with a caravan. Like I say, typical!

The important thing is, the next day we finally made it more or less safely back to Croatia – and the sea! And what a warm welcome we got: about 30°C. Heaven!

We are back on the same campsite we were on in June and it’s surprising how many familiar faces there are here. Some lucky ducks stay the entire summer season.

Listening to the oldies, there are also many regulars who apparently come back year after year, like the German family with the six kids, for example. Smart people, they also bring a set of grandparents with them. Only the twins are in nappies this year. The triplets were also in nappies last time they saw them and all six kids were under the age of six. Life must be so much easier for them nowadays. I don’t think.

There are the pet owners, with everything from miniscule excuses of dogs tucked away in their bicycle carrier baskets to Irish wolfhounds, dragging them up and down the seafront morning and evening.

There are the slobs (like my owners) and the stylish. Since we arrived, we’ve had our personal daily fashion shows, thanks to one incredibly well-groomed and fit looking Italian couple on a pitch nearby. They are staying in an ancient looking camper van and they set off regularly either on their bikes or in their fancy Italian sports car, presumably to eat out as they don’t seem to have any cooking facilities. I haven’t seen them make as much as a cup of coffee.

The beautiful signora emerges from the camper wearing a different, stunning outfit for every outing with, of course, a different pair of shoes to match every time. How she manages to cycle in those high-heels is a mystery to me. Mama mia! Il signore is quite the dapper dan into the bargain. I suppose with all those clothes and shoes, there’s no room for cooking gear in the camper van. It’s basically a wardrobe on wheels.

The oldies should take note and reassess their stock of tatty t-shirts and shabby sandals. A self-respecting seagull can’t be seen dead with them in public these days!

And then there’s the usual lot of campers who fancy themselves as The Voice, spending the evenings banging away on their guitars and ‘Knock, Knock, Knocking on Heaven’s Door’. I sure wish someone would finally open the bloody door and let them in.

And lock it securely after them.