It is always interesting when you leave on a journey to deliver humanitarian aid. You never quite know what is in store for you. I suppose this is due of life in general, but somehow when you move a bunch of stuff to another country it is breaking the pattern of your normal life and surprises seem that much greater. The very fact that I made this particular journey to Croatia was based on something less than logic, and had much to do with the fact that I was told a group of children were to be taken to the coast in late August and something told me that I should be there.

However, I knew there were another group of people going to be taking aid down at this time and although this produces a problem for Ljubica with regard to the number of people staying at her house, it makes it easier for her as she accompanies us to each refugee camp once, rather than repeating the operation the next week! In fact, Bob Parfitt, who organised the other group, had been visiting Croatia for four years and had arranged for a lorry to bring down down a huge quantity of stuff, including four tonnes of pasta, which we all participated in decanting and distributing.

This was a rather special trip for me in so far as my eldest daughter Amy was going to come. At fourteen years of age, I thought that to be exposed to the situation many refugees find themselves in would certainly broaden her outlook on life. Our trip down was very uneventful, although my prayers obviously paid off as we were allowed onto an earlier train at the channel tunnel (and allowed onto an even earlier train on the way back) and we went through customs at Slovenia and Croatia with barely a wave of the guard's hands.

We arrived on the Friday morning and the others arrived late that night and on the Saturday the job of distributing aid began. We were joined by a large number from the Zagreb Sai groups, our coordinators, and the interesting thing being that the bulk of the people there to help were young teenage girls, including some who could speak English thus ensuring that Amy didn't feel left out.

So into between the showers we spend the Saturday, Sunday, Monday and Tuesday moving stuff from the railway cars, in which the goods were stored, from place to place and then onto vans. Nearly twenty tonnes of stuff was there and I had brought one and a half tonnes. Food, baby food, nappies, sanitary items, clothes, furniture, bleach, toiletries, sweets (must not forget the sweets!), toys and assorted other goods were taken to camps where there are still 350, or 400 or 500 people, several years after the war in Yugoslavia, now split into various country states.

These camps, when the sun shines and when you consider staying there for a few day or weeks, don't seem too bad. But to have been there for seven years, as some have, is beyond hope. Some, especially those from Bosnia, whose towns and villages are still in occupied territory, have little or no chance of ever being returned. There is now the chance for people to buy land and to build a house, and sometimes you talk to someone and they will say, "Yes, I am working. But the aid you bring us means that we can save our money and buy bricks instead of vegetable oil or pasta or some other thing which is a necessity".

One man we met who was visiting friends in a camp where he and his family used to live, had returned to his village near Vukovar, which had been largely destroyed during the war. He was trying to start a cut flower business and asked if we could bring bulbs and seeds to help find his own way in life.

So for some there is the drive and determination to rebuild their lives, to get themselves out of the rut, and we like to think that we help them with that ambition. But what of the single mothers whose husbands were killed in the war? Or the old people who saw their past destroyed in front of their eyes? Who will build houses for them? Who will look after them? There is one camp in particular where, as you scan the expectant faces, you see the wizened old faces with eyes that show they have no hope. So you leave the goods, smile, encourage, and hope that you leave a little happiness.

With things being stored in railway cars there is always the chance they will be moved to allow others to be brought in for unloading, and this was definitely the case on the Sunday morning when we had to wait for two hours for things to be shunted up and down before our carriages were back in place. I try to stop Amy from lifting boxes which are too heavy. "Is that a sexist comment you are making, Dad?", she retorts. "No, just one from a concerned father", I reply. More camps, more smiles, more hope, more despair. It's a never ending cycle. But you feel good knowing that you are doing something for someone and they are very grateful even though they don't need to be. This is selfless work and I like it and you know something, Amy likes it too.

On the Wednesday we are driving with the children to the coast. We will be staying at a place called Icici (there are accents there somewhere, which my keyboard, even my Apple keyboard!, cannot cope with) with is near Rijeka.

So now I have found out about the children. They are group of children being educated in the 'human values' which will assist them in dealing with people in a fair and equitable way, and there are about sixteen altogether (Amy insists that I count her as one). They are accompanied by eight adults including me, and three extra arrive for the weekend. The man who owns the house, Vinko, gives up his own apartment to the four other drivers so on the Friday evening there are twenty nine of us sharing food and a farewell singing, because that evening the other drivers are leaving and there is a tearful farewell to the refrain of 'Kumbaya'.

Saturday morning finds us all a little subdued but spirits are soon lifted as we head for the sea and a day in the sun. The ways of the world are wonderful and mysterious and last year several of the children were sun burnt. This year there is plenty of sun cream and along come some clouds to stop it being too hot.

We joined in the games, we went to the beach - what seemed like scores of children would pile out of the back of the van each morning - Amy joined in the girl's class, I joined in the boy's, we sang songs, was that really my daughter leading one?, the chaps played two hour long games of football most evenings, leaving my body feeling as though it didn't belong to me as muscles which had lain dormant for years suddenly sprang into action. These children, most of whom have problems at home, are united in a common cause. Several have no father, some have problems with a lone mother unable to cope, each reflect their problems in different ways.

It is interesting to watch how each child looks for a mother or a father or an extended family, within the group of us, most of them have several of the former without realising it. One wrong move and there is always a kind voice to ask whether that is necessary and is there an alternative to what they are trying to do. Me, being in the football matches, try to temper the desire to win with a discussion in 'playing the game' to the best of one's ability, after all, I am English! It works, then it doesn't, then it works again. However, the end result of all this is that everyone has become aware of their attitude whilst playing the game and I am told that one of the young boys said that there was some trouble and aggression, but once that had worked its way through, the last match ended with everyone happy and a feeling of a really good match - you can't beat this bonding. You cannot beat this feeling of extended family.

All of the children participate in the preparation, cooking cleaning, serving and washing up in the kitchen, ably assisted by several adults, among which I do not count myself as I was chased away each time I tried to do anything. The food was excellent, the company wonderful, the lessons well learnt.

These are people helping others and in return get much help from an unseen hand. Wouldn't it be nice if we could help children in our own country in the way the adults help these children?

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