Le Grand Départ

So the day finally arrived and we left at the crack of dawn for another race to Dover. As you can see above, at the start of the trip we had already done just under 15,500 miles and it took us almost a round 5 hours to get to the port.

It was showing signs of a sunny day when we left home…

but not for long.

We managed 2 short stops en route for snackage and to appease the anklebiterz, who, true to form had been asking if we were nearly there yet from 10 minutes in to the journey.

A sneaky fuel stop at the Tesco’s just out of town and we rolled in to port at just gone 12, with plenty of time to get checked in.

Spent a good while watching the pompous seagulls.

Docked in Calais at 16.15 MMT and Brian led us sans problèmes to the campsite,

along quiet autoroute, at 3€ for the pleasure

And on arrival ot was substantially more green, floral and busy than on our last visit.

It wasn’t Harold Bishop in the office this time, but we were welcomed nonetheless. The facilities were still the same vintage French municipal chic, even the sound of the flush brought back childhood memories (!)

He installed us in the same poggy as last time and by about 6ish we were all sorted and in relaxation mode. It cost us 24,90€ for the night including EHU.

So time for a cheeky beer, whilst I relayed the campsite news which I had gleaned from le petit m’sieu.

It turns out that (mother take note) there is a boulangerie van which comes to the site at 8.30. To let you know of his arrival il klaxonne and he makes the bread especially pour le camping.

Also, there is a Les Mis festival going on up in the town, with son et lumiere beginning at 10pm, and terminating at midnight with some feu d’artifice, which should wake the children, nice!

I remembered to replace the doormat with one almost identical to that which was left behind in Nederlands and we noshed our homemade bolognese, lovingly prepared by moi in advance.

The music from the son et lumière thankfully wasn’t audible and we slept soundly, but the fireworks on the other hand woke the boy who needed extracting from his darkened roof bed and calming down. After a good cuddle I managed to relocate him, but it was a good while after coughs, snoring from KB etc before I began to drift off, only to be woken by a second round of fireworks at 1am. Cue more wailing from H and cries of ‘I want to go home now!’, more coughing, more snoring and not much sleep.

That’s camping.

Onwards to Beaune next

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