We are home again, and sitting quietly side by side in our lounge room as I write this blog.
Our trip home was uneventful, at first, unless one counts the wrong turning onto a motorway heading for Tilburg and Eindhoven instead of to Antwerpen. We quickly realised our mistake, and went off at the next exit. The traffic was reasonable and not too many trucks and mad drivers on the road. The wind had calmed down too, and we thought that the storm had finished.
But as we drove closer to Calais, the slight wind became a gale and our hearts sank. A rough ferry crossing lay ahead of us. Or worse still, delays.
We drove anxiously along the road to the port, looking out for queues of trucks and cars, and lines of desperate refugees. But no queues and only three refugees. I find the refugee problem in Calais very distressing, and scary too now, as these people are becoming very desperate, and will try anything to get into the UK.
Security at the port was extremely high, with French police everywhere, and passports and vehicles being searched methodically. Due no doubt to the recent killings in Paris.
Eventually we were allowed through to the port, and sat in our car surrounded by eastern Europeans, travelling back to the UK for work. We waited in the dark, our little group of cars and vans huddled together, in a nearly deserted port. The wind whistled around us, while we waited for the DFDS Seaways ferry to arrive, which it did eventually, two hours late.
We set off, in one of the oldest ferries I have travelled on, out into the stormy seas, and we were not disappointed. Luckily there were not many people on the ferry and most sat in the lounge in the front, so we had the dining area to ourselves. Not that we were eating, but it was in the centre of the ferry and there appeared to be less boat rolling there. And no one throwing up around us, which must have been happening, as the staff were busy walking past with sick bags.
Two hours later we were in the calm of the Port of Dover, where a security guard watched us carefully as we walked down the stairs to our vehicles. But there was more to come, as every vehicle was stopped and searched by Border Control staff, in the customs area of the port, who also wanted to see passports.
What an unreal experience, high winds, darkness, rough seas, an old ferry and extra tight security due to a heightened alert.
I was so pleased to arrive home, which looked reassuringly safe and secure, even in the darkness.
The last two photographs from Houten. Kylie's sister Morag, from Australia, came to visit for a few days and brought presents with her. She made Abi the most beautiful princess dress, which she is wearing in this photograph. Happy girls.
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