This was to be my second trip to Croatia, but rather than accompanying David in the van, he was to remain in Bath busy moving house. Myself (Nicky) and Stuart were to be the drivers, and coming with us was his eldest daughter Aquila.

The journey began from our Welsh hilltop at 8.30 a.m. giving us, so we thought, adequate time to accomplish the handful of things we had to do in our local town. These included the collection of three fishing rods donated by a local shop which had been asked for by men in a camp on our last trip.

Our intention was to have a leisurely pace to the day, to go on to collect Aquila from her home in Cardiff, and from there drive to Bath arriving with David in time to eat, relax and have an early night before embarking Dover-wards in the van first thing...

Phases one and two went according to plan, and having loaded up Aquila's bags and aid boxes, we were on the verge of leaving Cardiff when one of her house mates made a joke about passport photographs. Stuart and I looked at each other in horror - neither of us had given our passports a thought! After the ensuing hysterics had abated, we began the two hour journey home.

Passports safely on board we arrived in Bath mid evening. I had a migraine, Stuart had an upset stomach, and a grey-faced David opened the door to us shrouded in a blanket!

We all slept pretty fitfully but aside from a minor incident next morning involving the van keys, our departure went according to schedule.

At Dover we pulled in behind Fred's van where he, Roy and Peter (the latter we had never met before) were awaiting the same ferry as us. Moments later Bob arrived at our rear, with his wife Moy and Angela; two more new faces, but like Peter, both seasoned visitors to Croatia.

So team assembled and crossing done, we began our journey across Europe. We drove in convoy, and aside from the bizarre sight of a chicken wandering unperturbed along the central reservation of the German autobahn, and a frightening, but thankfully slight, incident between Bob and a very large lorry, we travelled uneventfully until stopping after midnight.

We separated from the others at first light in order to get a little filming done in the Croatian countryside and arrived in Zagreb at 7.30 p.m. We were greeted by Ljubica and Adrianna; a Swedish friend who would be staying for three weeks. Fed, watered and showered we collapsed into bed.

The others arrived just before 1.00 a.m. the next morning and after breakfast we set out for the rail yard, where the aid is stored, to load for the first camp. It was a hot and hazy day.

Bundek was our first port of call and we were greeted by the children who clambered in and out of the vans examining everything and honking the horns! It's lovely to be able to hand them all sweets, they are so full of mischief. We unloaded barrack by barrack - a system which seems to work well - and after a couple of hours headed back to load for the following morning.

Next day, Wednesday, and the plan was to visit three camps. Kosnica, Camp 1 for the day was new to us and held refugees from Vukovar. A very rural setting, many of it's original one hundred and sixty families had been able to return home. To those who hadn't we unloaded our boxes and were able to distribute armfuls of fluffy pink hippos to the toddlers who appeared one after another.

Veslacka, the next camp, was also unfamiliar to Stuart and I, and there was a tangible fiction there. Food distributed, the residents chose a lottery system for the items of furniture we had brought, but the atmosphere was still very tense. A young girl approached me and said "I am so sorry..." I tried to give her some chocolate but she laughed and said "No, they would kill me!" It was a sobering reminder of what the pressures of living in such circumstances does to people.

Finally it was on to Kenedief Tura where we delivered furniture, textiles and joy bags for the women. Joy bags are generally old handbags filled with toiletry items. The residents have incredible voices and together their singing has a rawness and quality unlike anywhere else, a sound that pulls at the heart. They sang for some time ; stirring national and folk songs. These people have great warmth and their smiles and generosity really touch you, as you struggle to hold back tears.

Thursday began with a minor crisis as Peter lapsed into a diabetic coma. The drama was short lived however, as Angela, a trained nurse, administered the necessary insulin and stayed with him for the rest of the morning. He was soon on the mend. I was a cool day for loading and we arrived in the illegal camp HZ to "welcome" flags made by the children and decorated with flowers. All the men wanted the fishing rods and we had to struggle to hold one back for Anton, the man to whom we had promised one. For us this was the highlight of the trip. In his late forties, he was like a little boy who had just been given the best present of his life. He was overjoyed and giggled hiding his missing teeth with his hand as I took his picture.

Many of the man, especially those who are building there own houses, were asking us for tools. Unfortunately we only had a limited number to give, and Stuart even had to refuse on woman my walking boots which were hanging up in the back of the van!

Next on the agenda was Nova Cice where we were made the traditional thick coffee, but with a difference in that it had been made with salt rather than sugar!! Bob and Angela gallantly downed theirs, but despite the valiant efforts of the rest of us, it was obvious to our host that something was amiss. Finally, Adrianna (the only Croatian speaker among in this room among us) was persuaded to tell him, at which point he tasted it, promptly crossed himself and the laughter erupted. This was a really nice ice breaker because Nova Cice has a reputation for being a difficult camp. But as news of the incident travelled, ripples of laughter spread through neighbours and passers by. Again the aid was distributed barrack by barrack and we said our goodbyes. We would return the following day with some additional supplies and nappies for a newborn baby.

Back at base a couple of Ljubica's friends had prepared food for us and the table was groaning.

Grad Mladic was the first camp for Friday and while the others drove ahead to unload, the three of us got caught up in the removal of a tiny kitten from behind a drainpipe where it was wedged. Kitten freed, and delivery made, the old people sent us away with customary souvenirs; books, flags and posters of their home town and a box of cakes.

Having delivered the remainder of the supplies to Nova Cice, we visited a family who had lived in Bundek for five years, but now have a small holding in the country. The son, Euro, is thirteen and shows all the signs of autism. Having been separated from his mother during the war, his hysterical crying triggered a brain haemorrhage. The family are reunited but Euro needs constant care. We brought them some incontinence pads later in the week.

Next we visited Ana and her parents at their new house. The garden was looking impressive; the Croatian's tend their land very carefully, and Ana's father had been at work for the last few months, even before they moved in. We unloaded some self assembly kitchen furniture which Roy intends to fit on a solo visit this Autumn.

The moon was bright on our journey home and for the three of us at least, this had been a very tiring day. Having already received much hospitality, none of us wanted to think about food, so we showered and fell into bed.

Gornje Bistra and the children's home was our next port of call and, remembering the impact the last visit had on me, I was a little apprehensive.

It was fine... Stuart mad a beeline for tiny Nina (who has brittle bones and a body the size of a six year old, although she is thirteen), who was overjoyed to be taken from her cot and whizzed around the corridors in a buggy. Her face was delight.

Most of the time was spent with another tiny child with encephalitis. Crying bitterly when I arrived, within moments he reached for my hand with his tiny one and was pulling at my heartstrings! Everyone spends time with different children. Fred and Bob especially enjoy the visits. My hardest moment was seeing Nina very distressed at Stuart's departure. She was crying and shouting, "No, no, no", in Croatian. I had to leave at this point.

It was our first experience of the next two camps, Rakici and Spansko, both of which had a fairly grim atmosphere. The first, like so many of the camps, was on the edge of a cement works and has a reputation for violence after dark. The second, sandwiched between tower blocks, is till home to three hundred and sixty people.

That evening Aquila and Adrianna walked into town where celebrations were underway for Roy's birthday, and Stuart and I proceeded to get lost in the intricacies of Zagreb's road system!

We christened the next day with a satwic slice of Roy's chocolate fridge cake, and there followed a morning at the rail yard of freight-shunting and waiting. Once this was sorted we went to our first stop which was Bianca at the "Children First" organisation, and she was very happy with the amount of aid we were able to give her this time. Then it was on to Lasinje.

It was lovely to see Father Bradica again. He really is a sweet man; he has a bashful childlike quality and a smile from ear to ear. He showed us the new, completed playground created by the students in June and beamed as Fred gave him a packet of seeds. "I like so much flowers", he said.

Our last delivery unloaded we were served as unexpected meal by the nuns, while Father Bradica told us of his plans to extend his work to rehabilitation and work programmes for drug addicts. He also related the story of the church bell, stolen during the war now safely returned to its home. He had recently been obliged to testify in the court case of the thief, and when asked his opinion of the man's intention replied, "I think he took it to keep it safe." He said to us simply, "I must be an example of forgiveness. If a priest does not give another chance, who will? It is my duty."

That evening we made the two hour journey to Rakovitsa to be with the family with whom Bob is especially close. We drove through the villages peppered with bullet holes, only the brand new houses intact.

We spent a magical evening around a candle lit table in the open, with crickets singing, stars bright and corn cooking on the fire below. The family are now rebuilding a new house next door, the table was set in the open shell of the old one; destroyed in the war.

Loathe to drag ourselves away in the early hours (beds had been made for all of us - the way to each lit with night lights) Stuart and I nevertheless had to make our way back to Zagreb to help Ljubica take the young children to the coast the following day. The drive to Icici took five hours. It was a hot day with lots of bodies crammed in both vehicles, the journey was very quiet.

We were all delighted to arrive at the villa overlooking the sea. Vinko, our host, plied us with fresh grape juice from the vines that surrounded he porch, and the children made a beeline for the beach as we hit the showers!

The remainder of the crew arrived later that night and we stayed for a day and a half. The children's busy schedule would not begin until we all left but we had a few lovely singing sessions. We also had an afternoon swimming and snorkelling and Stuart still has the remains of a sea urchin embedded in his big toe.

Goodbyes done, as we left a little rain began to fall, the first for three months, and it would accompany us for much of our journey. It was along one... the short cut suggested by Fred had major road works and hours of delays and diversions. We still managed the journey in thirty seven hours, however, and having driven through nine consecutive countries were welcome home by a flash from a speed camera in our neighbouring village.

We started early, we arrived safely!

So many people to thank, but especially the people from groups in Manor Park, Westcliffe, Clevedon, Totnes and Radnorshire. Plus that nice Mr Shah in Wembley. Not forgetting our sponsor, London chartered surveyors Hodnett, Martin, Smith. Without everyone's help these trips wouldn't be possible.

Next stop Kosovo in October.

Nicky Gilbert

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