Day 11

Slovakia

1,757 kilometres or thereabouts plus the North Sea. That’s the driving distance from Kosovo to our home in Scotland. But why on earth would anyone want to drive that?

Well, firstly, it was a challenge and the longest distance we may ever drive in one go. And secondly, because we could fill the car with food from home to take back to Kosovo with us.

Arriving back in mission with a car full of lorne sausage and tattie scones made you incredibly popular with the Scottish contingent. There was no need for booze – the PX in mission sold litres of single malt for about €15 but a pack of tattie scones? Instant aura farming.

When you’re in mission, food becomes its own currency. You were usually in an email chain with those from your home nation, so were duty bound to inform the group when you were going back home. Orders were sent, favours done and it generally just kept the wheels greased for when you might need something yourself.

We were fortunate enough to drive a Range Rover in those days. It was like driving your living room across Europe, so if you’re going to do it, then we would certainly recommend doing so in an appropriate chariot. We did do the journey just once in our beloved “Alonso”, a bright red Fiat Barchetta, 2-seater convertible on a one-way journey to get the car back to the UK after buying it from another international couple in Kosovo.

That was a whole other story. Ali left Pristina in Alonso heading for Belgrade to meet Bob who was flying in from Scotland. When Ali crossed over the border into Serbia from Kosovo, the exhaust fell off. Stuck in the middle of nowhere in the South Serbian hills, she radioed back to Pristina and the Head of Transport headed up to see what could be done. With about 300km still to travel to Belgrade, there was no other option but to sit and wait.

As she was at the side of the road, the Head of Mission happened to pass, also on his way to Belgrade with his driver. In his suit, he had a quick look at the car before disappearing round the back of his car into the trunk. Emerging a few minutes later in shorts and t-shirt he launched himself under the car, grabbed a bungee cord, tied up the exhaust and thanks to the translation of his driver, managed to ascertain from one of the locals who had gathered to watch, that there was a man just up the road who would be able to do an emergency repair.

We headed off slowly in convoy and turned down a dirt track following the instructions of the locals. A tumbledown barn appeared in the distance and we pulled up outside the huge doors at the front as night began to fall – Ali was seriously wondering if she would ever be seen again. The doors slid open and the lights came on inside – when we tell you it was like a Snap-On Tools Showroom – every conceivable range of tools and equipment – the kind of stuff that you generally don’t ask where it came from but definitely suspected that a lorryload of tools had somehow gone missing in the vicinity. The car was driven over the pit and the man got to work with his welding torch. No mask, no gloves, forget the fuel tank, it’ll all be OK. Ali could barely watch.

A short while later, the man declared the exhaust fixed. €30 changed hands, Ali got back in the car in the pitch black and eventually arrived in Belgrade, relieved and grateful for the help of strangers. This was in 2006. We’ve still got the car and the exhaust has never needed fixed again. 

But back to Jensen. The usual route was the recommended shortest distance option. Serbia, Croatia, Slovenia, Austria, Germany, Belgium, Overnight ferry from Zeebrugge to Rosyth and home. We did that a couple of times but then thought it would be interesting to switch it up, bag some different passport border stamps and tick off some EU countries. The journey in itself was fine, once you entered the EU, there were no more borders until you reached the ferry terminal. But the queues at the Serbian/Croatian border were legendary and then Germany decided to pepper the majority of the autobahn with roadworks, so we headed a bit further north and entered the EU at the Serbian/Hungarian border and went via Slovakia, Czechia and across the north of Germany instead.

The ferry options also changed. The route from Zeebrugge to Rosyth was a government subsidised route that didn’t last so we swapped to sailing from Ijmuiden, Amsterdam to Newcastle instead. It took the whole journey to over 3,000 km but the promise of adventure outweighed the extra mileage.

As a random sidenote, we once applied for Race Across The World and got interviewed by the production team, but they told us that we were actually overqualified in international route planning, so we didn’t get through. It apparently doesn’t make for compelling viewing when the contestants actually know what they’re doing!

On the way north one trip, we stayed overnight in Bratislava, Slovakia and it was our first stay at a brand new Double Tree by Hilton. That in itself, is not particularly significant perhaps. However, on check-in, you are presented with a warm, freshly baked chocolate chip cookie. When you’ve just driven over twelve hours; to have your bags taken to your room for you while you indulge in a fresh chocolate chip cookie definitely made this simple treat way more significant; but Double Tree knew what they were doing.

The cookies from Double Tree have taken on celebrity status and it’s a masterstroke in PR for the Hilton chain. They’ve been baked on the International Space Station and online sleuths have beavered away to crack the recipe, but warm at check-in is still the best way to enjoy them. To date, an estimated 483m cookies have been handed out since they were introduced in 1986.

It’s the only time we’ve ever stayed in Slovakia and we regret not seeing more of the country. We once stayed in a Double Tree Hilton in London and those cookies tasted exactly the same at check-in, so if we do go back, we know where we’ll be staying.

This is Day Eleven in our series sharing 31 Food Memories for the 31 Days of August.

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

• 

© The Lass O'Gowrie 2026

No reproduction without permission

All rights reserved