21 March 2016

36 hours in

HERE WE ARE THEN, earlier than it was planned but safely ensconced in the hotel overlooking the SNCF trainset servicing depot at Epernay.

We have rolled out the family tumbril with the squeaking clutch pedal and chirruping air fan, diced with the SUVs and slick saloons of the M3, M25, M20 to safely overnight in comfort overlooking the redolent  harbours of Dover;— embarked on DFDS's fine ferry Dover Seaways to slip to Dunkirk, 4th car off and under grey skies made it once more to the home of fizzy wine. En route, I saw a man in shorts as early as Hook services and then another in Dover with flip flops and prophet style beard, pushing a buggy.  It was about 10 below and grey as a plate of school rice puddin.

Since then we have added a mere 187 miles to the clock and are now looking forward to the first pizza or similar of the excursion, at a previously tried and tested resto called Sardaigne, before the luxury of single beds and a drive-in shower wafts us away to Erowande.

So no issues to report, (we did note that all nine turbines are up on Beebles Moor back in North Devon), crossing smooth and rather longer than remembered, but it was very grey. Tomorrow the hack down to St Pourçain where, when last there on the way back to Blightey avec famille, I walked out of a restaurant the service was so shockingly poor. Trust Mary has got another venue up her sleeve because I utterly refuse to eat in that place again. Where (and what) did we eat in poor misunderstood Dover? In our room of course— we  took lots of crisps, cold sausages, hb eggs, bananas, juices and choco bars . . .  tea and coffee provided. Now its back to French sparcity, no tea and coffee in our rooms here, but we can at least, watch the trains! Just remembered I have a can of Bass in the boot but having just replaced our breathalyser kit — the first one was life expired without having been employed, I think I shall restrain myself on the beer front and instead have a glass of champers with the evening meal . . . or not, as I am a bit price sensitive. Yes, one has to be able to breathalyse oneself in France, the police insist. Ditto dipped headlight thingeys. Must remember to stick those on some time in the coming weeks, recycled from years back, obvs