Our trip home should have been a smooth, and uneventful trip, in our very comfortable car. The 1,252 kms, plus a ferry journey from Calais to Dover, took us two full days, rather longer than expected. We kept to the speed limit of 130 kmh, no point in getting caught by the police for speeding, but had to drop back to 110 kmh at times, due to the heavy rain, which we encountered on sections of the road. The road was also busy, with trucks, caravans and motorhomes plus fully loaded cars. One forgets that many people were still on holiday. But there were no hold ups, no traffic jams.
Our trip did not go smoothly, nothing serious, just small problems which took the edge of the trip somewhat.
Garlic Fumes
Our car was perfumed by the aroma of garlic, very strong garlic, even though the bunch was wrapped in a cloth, plus two plastic bags, and hidden under luggage in the boot. We should have thrown them out, I know, but they were expensive. They ponged, badly.
Rubbish Food
I am not sure why we ate so much rubbish food; sweets, pastries at every stop, baguettes, a rich piece of quiche, and pizza for dinner. Indigestion and more indigestion.
Getting lost
It took two satnavs, the one in the car and the one on Walter's telephone, to find our favourite chain hotel, Ibis Budget, in Dijon. But we should have known, that we would have problems the next morning, due to the size of Dijon, and the many motorways which head off in different directions. We were not disappointed.
I drove, and Walter navigated, together with the satnav. The satnav took us through the centre of Dijon in peak hour traffic, and onto a minor road, direction Troyes. A slow road. Walter could not find the road on the map at first, and when he did, he insisted we turn around and follow a sign we had passed earlier, Autres Directions, with Troyes written underneath, amongst many other names. Words were exchanged. The satnav was turned off. An hour later we passed the turnoff to our hotel. We had travelled a full circle. And Troyes was no longer mentioned on any sign.
We were now heading for either Lyon, Beaune, Geneve or Bresancon, south and south west. So we headed for Lyon, at least we would find the A31, the correct motorway, just in the wrong direction. Once on the A31 we found an exit, went through two tolls, and then back onto the A 31, heading north.
Coffee was now desperately needed, plus a pastry, so we stopped at the next services, having not made any progress north, since the previous night. We quickly drank our coffee and ate a pastry, and continued on our way, two hours behind schedule.
But the sun was shining.
Calais
Calais turned out to be less problematic than we expected, due to the double fences along the road leading to the port. It was also heavily guarded as well, but the sight of the refugee camp in the dunes was very unsettling, especially as it was raining heavily. Those poor refugees.
Security at the border control was also very strong, but the queue of cars not too long. I felt sorry for the people on the coaches, as they were being checked thoroughly, with long queues in the rain and cold.
Ferry Crossing
The ferry crossing was not smooth, not rough either, more of a rolling motion, just enough to give me a headache. Luckily we were able to get the front seats.
The white cliffs of Dover, in the distance. I know the water looks very calm, but the ferry was pitching around at this point.
But we arrived home, safely, and quickly unpacked the car. I then succumbed and drank a large glass of red wine, which relaxed me temporarily before the indigestion and headache returned in earnest,
That night we thankfully collapsed into our lovely, big and comfortable bed. Home again.
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