Road trip 🚗: Route 1, end

Berlin - Spain - Portugal. I'll be back soon.

Jun 03, 2026

We were on tour for four months. And the road trip should actually end according to plan. But now I'll just carry on after a break. That's why I'm flying back to Berlin while my Volkswagen Fox stays in the Algarve.

My “red lightning” stays in Portugal ©Rebecca Hillauer

When we set off from Berlin on January 13, deep down I doubted whether the two of us would actually make it all the way to southern Spain and then on to the west coast of Portugal. But we did it—with flying colors. My Volkswagen Fox only needed two minor repairs during the trip, which cost me 120 euros = 140 USD. Plus, of course, gas, which became increasingly expensive over the months with reference to the closure of the Strait of Hormuz.

As I say “goodbye” in Odeceixe, I take one look at the odometer: 299,703 km = 186,741 miles. I compare this number with the one in a post I wrote when we arrived at our first extended stop, the hamlet of El Gor in Andalusia, at the end of January. I read:

Odometer reading: 295.543 km = 183,642 miles

Distance traveled since Berlin: approximately 3.207 km = 1,993 miles.

Since then, I’ve driven more than 2,500 additional miles. And I did it with a car that will turn 35 in September. We’ll both be celebrating her birthday in style with a drive. Attentive readers will now ask: Why do I write “her” birthday? Because this car is simply a “she” to me, even though her nickname “Red Lightning”—which I gave her—is grammatically masculine in German. And “the car” is grammatically neuter. She? He? It? Who cares? So s/he and I are right on trend, *lol*, (satire off, note), and that’s been the way ever since she’s been mine—for more than twenty years now.

There she goes, my loyal companion… ©Rebecca Hillauer

So now she’ll be waiting for me in Portugal until I return in early August to look after Rocky Balboa the cat again and water the beautiful garden. I watch my faithful companion with a touch of sadness as she, guided by other caring hands, slowly disappears from view.

This story was first published on my German website and translated by me.