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Published: September 8th 2008
This weekend (30th Sept) has been exciting as I finished work and we have said our goodbyes to family and friends.
Karl (the southern softie) Mortimer struggled with a Chessie northern night out on the Friday and was getting aquainted with the plumbing by midnight. Must have been the free Cobra lagers amongst the cocktails that did it lad! Martin came in second in the hangover stakes next morning with me trailing in last with a bright and patronising "I feel fine, and I drank more than you!". There is a God.
Thanks to our sons and mother in law for belly busting meals on Sat & Sun.
At last,all the "to go " piles of stuff that have been building in every room of the house for the past months suprisingly got loaded without too much trauma into the outfit.
Wednesday 3 rd September The day began at two in the morning to the sound of rasping snore 6 inches from my ear.
He never sleeps well nowadays, but somehow manages to wake me in the depths of his dreams with 100 dB. At 5 :30 the mobile phone alarm jangled and I slowly
realised I’m in the’van not home and today is one of the most important days in my life for ages.
It’s barely light but now the brain’s engaged and racing. We're leaving the country today.
Don’t know when we will be back,
The heartbeat quickened , hold it back , get a grip. It’s only France..........and then Spain......and then who knows?
7am , we drove into the ferry terminal and immediately got diverted into the security area. Do we look like smugglers??? Into the hangar and a smiley “ friendly” customs chap asked us to wind down the window. "Where have you come from... where are you going?
“Oh god no , he’s going to find the smuggled extra gas bottle that’s not allowed on the ferry, or find the disillusioned asylum seeker that wants to go back to France.”
“Can you open up the caravan please?”
O M G he’ll see all the booze we packed to take away with us (the free bar has ended- Chris) and think we are alkies. But what he really wanted was to look in the toilet and check no outlaw from the great British justice system had chosen our beautiful caravan’s chemical throne to make a discreet exit from the country!
Luckily our pristine Thetford was vacant and we were allowed on our way. How embarrassing if it had been recently used.
The ferry was full of zombies. 7. 30 am and everybody was crashed out and trying to sleep on their hands leaning against the wall. Makes me feel grateful for the 5 hours and 100 dB snoring I got.
We hit the motorways and headed south for Le Havre. The sat nav took over and once we learned to trust it was quite cool.
We stopped for re-fuel just north of Le Havre and as we pumped diesel, a short ruddy Belgian chap, of doubtful age, and his lady, towing a miniscule caravan with a hatchback, gestured and somehow communicated to M that he wanted to know the difference between the 2 “gazoles” on offer. Luckily we had sussed ( courtesy of the French dictionary) that the expensive one had less sulphur. Whether or not M quite communicated this to Belgian Norris (from coronation street) I’m not sure but he and Mrs Norris smiled.
As M went to pay for the fuel Mr. Norris admired our outfit walking up and down its length and peering thro’ the windows...did he see the booze? As Martin returned he gestured to the car:
“ is good?”
“Yes” said M.
The Belgian Norris gestured necking a bottle of wine.... Martin assumed he was referring to the fuel economy...I’m not so sure. He mumbled figures on miles per gallon which seemed to go over Mr. Norris’ head but he smiled and walked back to his outfit.
So here we are , on our first site. Just outside Honfleur. We have cracked the first bottle of vintage Moet and feel a little tiddly and very high. Life is good the sun has shone and maybe the night ahead will have no snoring.
Donna
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ventress
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Nick Nack box
Did customs find the Nick nack box though....... Ventress