Friday 7th August 2026

Time to go home.

But before then, a short drive into the city to visit and photograph the cathedral, which if I remembered right has some of the oldest stained glass in all of Europe.

We woke up after a long sleep, the traffic on the bypass outside didn't keep us awake, and the cool temperatures meant it was easy to snuggle up under the duvet.

Cool?

Yes, eight degrees, though it would warm up quickly, but with the roof window open, it allowed the cool air in, and the sound of bird song.

We went down for breakfast after showers, and found the usual mix of fruit, bread, yogurts, and preserves. And lots of strong coffee.

We drove into the centre, parking at another underground car park called "Cathedral". And this time the large churchy building nearby was the cathedral.

Like most cities we drove into, it was quiet, even in the midst of what would be rush hour in Britain. And in the circular underground car park, only about 10% of spaces were taken.

Out into the cool of the morning, blue shadows fulling the streets, and over the roofs were the twin spires of the cathedral.

I got busy snapping the north, west and east triple doorways, as I knew it would open at half eight, but then mass would start at nine, and as I guessed, insides were signs asking no photography when a mass was being held.

Which gave me half an hour. How many shots could I take in 30 minutes?

Nearly 600 if you were wondering what the answer was.

Around the outside of the Sanctuary were incredible carved friezes depicting the life of Jesus, which I recorded in two batches.

Between I put on the big boy lens, and started to record the glass, starting with the rose window in the west, and the three 12th century panels below.

I had only taken a fraction of the shots I wanted, when the clock chimed nine, and the Bishop emerged, and the choir began to sing.

We could have waited for mass to be completed, but that would have been in thirty or more minutes, but we still had a four and a half hour drive to get to Calais, then get onto a shuttle.

We'd best be going, I said.

So we did.

Though the smell of fresh coffee in the row of restaurants on the main square did smell amazing.

Now.

Both Jools and I are old enough to remember, and experience, the traffic jams around the Paris ring road, so our intention was to go to Rouen, then up the coast road from there. Even if it did mean using the crazy fur lane link road that winds it way through a commercial estate, and is clogged with trucks and holiday traffic.

It was a quiet run up to Rouen, along less-known dual carriageways and motorways, but then onto that ring road. Not as bad as I remember, but with roadworks on the bridge over The Seine, but traffic on the road we merged on were allowing one car at a time to blend in, so we made progress, and once through the tunnel we were back out into the countryside and up to warp speed.

And so we ate the miles up until we crested a hill near Boulogne-sur-Mer, and the Kent coast could be seen some 30 miles away.

We paid the last toll of the trip, and dropped into Calais, where we had four stops. Well, two in fact.

The Carrefour hypermarket near the port for some beer. Proper 1664, brewed in France and different to the pish we get in Britain. Then to Calais Vin for some Belgian beer, French cidre, more French wine, and cheap pink fizz.

Next door to the fromagerie for a selection of cheeses, all stinky and runny. Before going to the patisserie for some fresh crusty bread. And we were done.

The car was loaded, and had just enough room for us. We moved off going down two junctions of the motorway to the Tunnel

Check in was easy, then was the chaos of getting through the two sets of border controls. There are now staff directing cars on which lane to join, so not the free-for-all of old, but it still took an hour, meaning we missed our booked train, and there wasn't another for an hour!

So, we sat in line for half an hour before boarding, and then the five minute wait before the train moved off.

We got off at ten to four, and once we took the A20 exit, we were in Folkestone, onto the A20, over the cliffs and down into Dover.

A ferry had dicked, so traffic was heavy up Jubilee Way, but it moved quickly, and so we were able to turn onto the Deal road, then off into the village and home.

Home.

The car was unloaded. Washing put into the machine, and clean clothes put away.

We worked well as a team, and by six so much done, I could take part in the quiz, though I jumped in early and got it wrong.

Jools went to the Chinese, so for supper we dined well and drank ice cold beer/cider, as the evening darked outside, and was dark by half eight.

But we were home, so went to bed and slept well, me after 15 hours driving over two days, and Jools having to suffer my driving for 15 hours over two days!