Sunday 1st December 2019

My friend in NZ, Tony, once remarked how wonderful it was that we could be in another country or two within an hour or two after leaving home here in Kent. Whereas for him getting to another country, Australia, involved a flight of several hours.

I think of that each time we nip over to France for some wine and/or stinky cheese.

Not only that, this time as it turned out, Jen had got a free trip because of the amount she spent last time, she got a voucher. And so she cashed it in, meaning it was a free jolly boy's outing.

It was planned like a military operation, working out how long we needed over there, so to book the return sailing.

In the end it didn't matter, as we were done even quicker than usual, and allowed on an earlier sailing.

But that was for later in the day.

For a Sunday morning, we had to be up and about and ready to be out of the house by quarter past seven, at Jen's by half past to get to the port a whole ten minute drive away to check in. And then wait.

We woke up and could hear the wind whistling around the back of the house, meaning the sailing was going to be interesting, but as we were all good sailors, nothing to worry about. We get up, have coffee and are just about ready in time.

It felt cold.

On to Jen's, and wait for John to arrive. Sylv was going to look after Betty, so there was nothing to worry about for the trip. Jen and John had packed sandwiches, flasks of coffee and bourbon biscuits, so we were set for the day.

I had driving duties, with Jen's warning not to hammer her car ringing in my ears, we set off back to Dover and down Jubilee Way.

We check in, show our passports and are told to drive to lane 213, and told we had a 20 minute wait before boarding would start. So we sat and talked. John stood outside, ruining his health. And the boarding started, and we took our turn to drive on.

Jen had brought a pack of cards, two packs, though the second had a mix of packs to make up numbers. We played Meld, but after a few hands, it became clear that some cards there were three of, like King of Clubs, and so others there would be less. We sorted the packs and realised they were beyond help, so I went to the shop to buy a couple of new ones, and the games continued.

We didn't keep scores, so there was some reckless playing.

The ship arrived in Calais, we went down to the car deck and waited for the doors to be opened. And then we could drive off.

France is like the UK now, in that shops are open on Sundays too, the cheese shop next to the wine warehouse would close at lunch, so we had to go there first. And the wine warehouse. And the boulangerie for crusty bread.

Jools and I get three boxes of pink fizz, and a selection of Belgian beers. Those are for me though.

Mext door Jools buys a selection of five stinky cheeses before going the next shop for some traditional crusty bread.

And then the longest part of the trip, a 40 minute blast up the motorway across the dunes into Flanders and Belgium. Its a road I know well from my time working in Ostend a few years back, but even then its hard to concentrate when driving past a huge marshalling yard filed with freight wagons and locomotives. But we don't crash, so that's OK.

The first twon over the border is Aidenkirke, which straddles a canal, and its streets are lined with dirt cheap tobacco shops. I have no idea why, but it is worth a trip here as the port of Calais and the ferries operate some kind of cartel on pricing, so a half hour drive brings to the smoker, half price gaspers and tobacco.

I get another crate of Tripel exchanging it for my empty one, and so only paying for the catual beer: €1.05 a bottle.

Opposite the shop is a place that does Belgian style frites, Belgian chips. All served with mayonaise. Jools gets a huge box for €5, and we eat those along with cheese and onion sandwiches that John had made.

And back into the car for the jorney south, calling in at the Britsh wine warehouse for the low-rent wines that Jen likes. No comment on Jen, just remarking what it is. A huge warehouse lined with pallets stacked with Australian, Spanish and other low alocohol content wines, flavoured with fruit.

Jen spends enough to get a free ticket next time, if there is a next time. So the circle is unbroken.

And there is the wine tasting room. A 3 litre box of Spanish table wine for under £6? Yes please.

So I am sorted for weeks, if not months.

Two junctions further along is the ferry terminal, and as discussed previously, we were early enough to get on the earlier sailing, waiting in line for another 20 minutes before boarding.

We get on, meaning we will be home before dark, and in time for me to follow the Norwich v Arsenal game on Jools' mobile.

The ferry sets off, and Norwich were drawing 1-0. Then a dodgy retaken penalty levels it. And just on the stroke of halftime Norwich regain the lead.

By the time the ferry is docking, Arseal level again, so the game ends 2-2, which we would have taken, only City outplayed Arse.

So it happens.

We drive off and up Jubilee Way to Jen's, where we unload her car, load ours up, wish her farewell, and we drive back home, getting back at five in time to feed the cats.

Dinner is stinky cheese, crusty bread and choclate and wine. All the main food groups.

We have an hour's pause before doing it again.

Cheers.

One of the cheeses is wrapped in brown chestnut leaves, and is very strong. Probably against the law to sell it outside France, but it is wonderful. Has a very nutty flavour, and is great with either coffee or red wine.

We eat all that.

And so with the bottles and boxes of booze put away, we can relax after another weekend had slipped by.

Back to the grindstone in the morning......