Chasing Shadows: 3,005 Miles Through Europe in the Dacia Bigster

When we were offered the chance to turn a bucket-list idea into reality with the Dacia Bucket List Fund, we knew where we wanted to go. Spain. The Pyrenees. And, on 12 August, the total solar eclipse. What we didn't quite appreciate at the time was that the eclipse would turn out to be the reason for the journey, rather than the destination.

Because this story is really about the 3,005 miles in between. 

The Dacia Bigster arrived just one day before we were due to leave. There wasn't much time for a familiarisation drive, so we took it over the local hilltops for a quick spin to get a feel for it.

A day later, we were off. Somewhere around three or four days into the trip we finally gave the car a name. We'd seen a Dacia post suggesting that every car should have one, so we started thinking about names connected with the eclipse. Eventually, she became Umbra – the darkest part of a shadow. It seemed appropriate. 

Our first day was mostly about putting miles behind us and getting close to Folkestone. We stopped near Cambridge, partly because we wanted to see the Grasshopper Clock. The following day we headed for the Channel Tunnel. We had a Flexiplus ticket, so there was no need to panic about catching a particular train. I did, however, have a slight concern about getting what felt like quite a large car onto what felt like quite a small train. In reality, it was a breeze. The Bigster handled it effortlessly. The only thing that seemed concerned was the car itself. Its sensors were enthusiastically warning us that we were too close to the wall on the left, too close to the wall on the right and, apparently, too close to something in front of us as well.

Once in France, we headed down the coast, stopping whenever somewhere caught our eye and looking back across the Channel at the White Cliffs we'd left behind. The Bigster came with Dacia's camping kit, including a small picnic shelf at the back. We soon discovered that it was rather useful. Our first picnic was made possible by the little bag of food supplied by LeShuttle, eaten from the back of Umbra while we looked out over the French coast.

We overnighted near Le Havre and explored the town centre, including the extraordinary Church of Saint Joseph and a rather amusing seagull statue dressed in human clothing. Our first French meal deserved its own little bit of theatre: vol-au-vents and a glass of Le Piat d'Or. Suddenly I was back in front of the television as a child, remembering those old wine adverts and the wonderfully cheesy refrain about the French loving Le Piat d'Or. 

The next day took us to Mont-Saint-Michel. This was one of the places on our original itinerary and somewhere I'd wanted to see for years. It certainly didn't disappoint. Nor, apparently, did it disappoint thousands of other people. There we were, joining what seemed like half of France and a good proportion of the rest of Europe. This, we decided, was what visiting France in August was all about. Still, we explored and enjoyed it, and then continued south.

La Rochelle was next. We immediately decided that it looked like foodie heaven – unfortunately, we didn't have the luxury of lingering. We had a date with the eclipse. 12 August was written in stone.

We did manage a boat trip to Fort Boyard, which was particularly special for Constanze because it featured in one of her favourite television programmes.

Then we stayed overnight in Rochefort, where we discovered an unusual piece of art: letters seemingly tumbling from a wall. The words were about the wind of the unknown and adventure pursuing us. My French isn't quite good enough to give you the exact translation, but somehow the sentiment seemed appropriate. 

Our original route would have taken us through the Bordeaux region, but wildfires had struck the area. Although the fires were under control, we didn't feel comfortable driving through a region still dealing with the aftermath and recovery operations. So we changed direction. And that was how we discovered Carcassonne. I'd always loved ancient walled cities, but somehow I'd never heard of Carcassonne. It wasn't on my Bucket List. It wasn't in the original plan. It should have been. The walled city was fantastic. And that was the first real lesson of the trip: sometimes the best places are the ones you hadn't planned to visit.

From Carcassonne we headed towards Andorra. There wasn't a complicated reason for going there. It was a small European country I'd never visited. So why not? One more country ticked off the list. The roads into Andorra were becoming increasingly mountainous, with hairpins and narrow sections that were considerably more fun to drive than the French motorways we'd started out on.

Umbra handled them brilliantly. We stayed in Andorra la Vella, where my highlights included Dalí's extraordinary The Nobility of Time, with its enormous melting clock, and a giant blue baby sculpture that we stumbled across in the city. The trip was becoming a curious mixture of things we'd carefully planned and things we'd simply happened upon. 

We crossed into Spain and headed towards Pamplona. Then, somewhere along the way, we discovered that a couple of Constanze's friends happened to be staying in the town of Jaca. A small deviation became lunch and an impromptu tour of the city. It's a small world.

Jaca's magnificent Romanesque cathedral is closely connected with the Camino de Santiago; the pilgrimage route crossed the Pyrenees through the Somport Pass and passed through Jaca on its way towards Pamplona and Santiago. But the unexpected reunion with friends was the real highlight. There was another surprise while we sat in their garden. For a short while, ash began falling from the sky. Wildfires were burning nearby.

We had already changed our route once because of the fires around Bordeaux. Now we were sitting in a friend's garden in Spain watching ash fall from the sky. Once again, our route had to change. And once again, the journey was writing its own itinerary. 

We eventually arrived in Fitero, which we'd chosen as our eclipse viewing location because it was in the path of totality and had a monastery we could explore while waiting. We parked overlooking the town and settled in. Then the world began to change. The sky became dimmer. An eerie silence descended. Birds seemed confused and began heading home to roost. The temperature dropped. And then, as the Moon moved into alignment with the Sun, the shadow arrived.

For a few extraordinary moments, everything seemed different. We only had our phones with us, so our photographs weren't exactly going to win any prizes. But we did manage to capture the eclipse, including a photograph showing the diamond-ring effect. Oddly, one of my strongest thoughts afterwards was that I missed my DSLR. It has been sitting at home gathering dust, and the eclipse reminded me how much I enjoy photography. It's definitely coming back out.

Behind us was Umbra. By now she'd travelled roughly 1,500 miles, and looked it. She was covered in European dust, with a little wildfire ash thrown in for good measure. She had carried us from home, through France, over the Pyrenees, into Andorra and Spain and finally to the shadow of the Moon. She had done rather well. 

The obvious thing to do after the eclipse would have been to pack everything away and head for home. But we didn't want the adventure to
end. The eclipse had been the reason for the trip, but it hadn't exhausted our appetite for travelling. So we went to Bilbao. We spent a couple of nights there, explored the extraordinary architecture of the Guggenheim Museum and enjoyed the art inside. And, naturally, we ate some fantastic tapas.

Then we backtracked to Zaragoza, another Bucket List stop. We visited the Basilica of Our Lady of the Pillar and the cathedral, and explored the spectacular Aljafería Palace. Zaragoza turned out to be another architectural treat, with the Aljafería and other Mudéjar treasures forming part of the city's UNESCO World Heritage story. There was even the opportunity to climb the cathedral tower for a view across the city. Constanze declined. I think she may have decided that some views were better appreciated from ground level. There was more tapas. Of course there was. 

Eventually, the journey really did have to end. We made a long drive towards Calais, stopping at a motel seemingly in the middle of nowhere, before taking LeShuttle back across the Channel. Then it was on to Banbury. Banbury was where we'd agreed to hand Umbra back. We couldn't leave without investigating the famous Banbury Cross and its fair lady on a white horse – another little piece of English folklore before the end of our European adventure. And then, rather sadly, we said goodbye to Umbra.

From Banbury we caught a train to Birmingham Airport and flew to Berlin, where we were heading to celebrate Constanze's birthday with her parents. The odometer had recorded 3,005 miles. But the number doesn't really tell the story. 

Looking back, the eclipse was simply the reason we travelled. What we loved was everything that happened because we were travelling. I love driving. I love exploring somewhere I've never been. I love finding good food. I love the feeling that you can look at a map, decide to turn left instead of right and discover something completely unexpected.

Some of our favourite memories weren't on the original itinerary at all. Carcassonne wasn't planned. Andorra was added simply because I'd never been there. Jaca happened because we discovered friends were nearby. Even the wildfires changed our journey and took us to places we might otherwise never have seen. That, for me, is what the Bucket List adventure was really about. Not the destination.

And the Dacia Bigster turned out to be a great car in which to make that journey. It was comfortable for the long distances, handled the mountain roads surprisingly well and gave us plenty of room to make ourselves at home along the way.

As for Umbra, she now has 3,005 miles of stories attached to her. Although next time, perhaps we should take some friends with us. After all, the Bigster is big enough.

This article is advertorial content reviewed by Dacia prior to publication.