Sunday 26th November 2023

Back on the road.

At the end of a hectic few days, more upheaval and the such as I had to drive to France by the end of the day.

Not that it would take me long to get to France, but I had to drive 100 miles beyond Calais and find a hotel somewhere near Amiens.

To get to France it is simply a case of driving to Folkestone on the a20, then turning off at Cheriton, going along to the back entrance of the Tunnel, checking in, getting through two sets of border controls and then wait for the next rain under the sea.

We woke at half six, messed around for sometime, drinking coffee before having breakfast. Then, for me, was a shower, shave and packing. Booking a place on the Le Shuttle.

Relax for an hour or so, have lunch of warmed up Chinese leftovers, and ready to go.

I did not want to go.

But I could combine this with a duty free run on the way back, and maybe getting more Christmas Belgian beers.

I load the car and say goodbye to Jools, and drive off towards Dover and the A20, up Shakespeare and along to Folkestone to the terminal. I check in, then go to the terminal to get a UK sticker for the back of the car, and light diffusers, then drive to the Flexi lounge to pick up supplies for supper, free of charge, then make the final call for the next train to France.

I drive round the one way system, then down onto the platform and onto the upper deck of the train, about halfway along and park behind a Dutch car.

We wait.

Listen to the safety announcement.

And we pull away.

So gentle you hardly notice.

35 minutes later we arrive in Calais, wait five minutes after the train stopped, and simply drive off one after another.

Straight round another one way system, onto the motorway and up one junction to where Calais Vin was still open.

I go in, buy two boxes of wine, a dozen bottles of Belgian beers, pay. And fill in the forms to get my €20 tax back, just about the only real bonus Brexit has brought.

Back into the car, onto the motorway, heading south this time, and as dusk darkened, the rain began to fall.

I only had to keep on the same road for 100 miles, so I kept at a steady pace, counting the miles down. And all was well until I reached the toll plaza.

I had to park the car in the lane, get out, get a ticket, and drive off, as the machine only was accessible from the left hand side.

It was the same when I finally reached Amiens and I had to pay, but not too difficult, I wave an apology to the French car waiting for me, and I drive off.

I turn off, and eight miles later come to a retail park, turn off, and there was the hotel. Motel really.

Only three guests in, so lots of parking.

I check in, walk to my room in a 60s style block, open the door.

Phew.

I had done it. I could relax.

I follow the remaining half an hour of the Man Utd game, eat my supper and mess around online, until it was time for bed at nine.

Rock and roll.