Wednesday 29th November 2023

Time to go home.

As I had managed to finish the audit on two days, rather than two and a half, I could leave from the hotel straight to Calais.

That was the plan.

I woke at half six, plenty of time to lollygag around online, make a brew, have a shower and then pack.

I went to breakfast just before eight, eat well and drink plenty of coffee. There is the usual mix of tourists and worked in hi-vis jackets, all milling around in groups.

One group is here for a conference in the room next to the reception desk, where the flip charts and whiteboards are already in use.

Good luck guys.

I go back to my room, clean my teeth and load the car, which stinks of cheese I had left in the boot all night. Stopping only to drop the swipe key off, I go to the end of the road, turn right, then left on the roundabout, and I am on the direct road to Calais.

It is light, or getting that way, and as I have all day to get home, I settle down at a medium cruising speed and just follow the traffic.

At the end of the road, some eight miles on, there is a roundabout, and off that the toll plaza. which requires me to bring the car to a stop, put the drive in park, apply the handbrake, leap out of the car, go round so to lick up the timed ticket, then scuttle back round, in the car, into drive, release the brake and off before the barrier drops.

The only turn off in 82 miles was the one for the Tunnel in 81 miles, so I set speed for cruising, and head north.

As this road is a toll, is is lightly used. Very lightly, so I make good time, even when a dark cloud passed over and drops half an inch of rain, but clear skies the other side.

The toll road ends at Boulogne, so I have to leap out again at the plaza to pay with a credit card, then off, with the road leaping from down to down via ever-larger bridges. At the top of the highest down, the view opens up north west, and the Channel can be seen, and in bright sunlight, fair Blighty beyond, so clear I could make out Langdon Cliff and Fan Bay, some 30 miles away.

Wow.

The view is quickly lost, then the road drops down from the chalk down of the two Capes, and just before Calais, I turn off to the Tunnel.

I check in, then drive to the terminal to claim tak back on the beer and wine bought, £19, so not to be sniffed at, then back in the car and to passport control, where I said through the French ones, and yet on the UK side there are queues of 15 minutes as only two lanes are open.

Welcome to Britain.

Through passport control, stopping at the Flexi lounge to pick up sandwich and crisps for lunch when I get home, and then drive to await boarding.

We are second to get on the train, stopping at the bottom of the slope to allow me to grab a shot, then onto the upper deck to await departure.

Phew.

I read as the safety announcements were made, then the train glides out, and into the tunnel to travel under the sea.

On the other side, I am second off, and take the left hand lane away from the motorway, so to go north to Dover.

I stop at the garage on Townwall Street to fill up, the on a hunch stop at the car hire place, so the manager drives me home and takes the car, meaning I have one less thing to do.

I was home.

I take my case and the booze and cheese inside, turn the heating up and put the kettle on. So, through the afternoon I sort tough my clothes, load the washer, fill up the racks with wine and beer, and make a fuss of the cats once they decide to make an appearance.

Waiting for me is yet more beer: Christmas beer from Norfolk, which I ordered at the weekend.

Chairs!

I realise I am bushed, and that its been a week since I had a quiet evening at home. I had been looking forward to be home.

I make hash for dinner, all ready for when Jools came back from her road trip.

For the evening there was Ipswich to watch on Sky, and they cruised to a 3-1 win against Millwall, and the derby is very close now, its just a matter how many they'll rattle past us.