Calais to Belgium

I was just standing at the bench-top making an early morning cup of tea, it’s 6.30, looking out the rain spotted window at a gorgeous paddock of spinach which is next to an equally beautiful paddock of golden wheat musing about something Hilary said the other day. It stuck in my mind because what she had noticed was also what I had been thinking, and though she couldn’t quite express the same philosophical thought or maybe not couldn’t but didn’t I was taken by it. What she said is, “If people didn’t open their mouths and there weren’t any signs around, you wouldn’t know you were in France”.  Now of course there are differences in architecture, road rules, crops grown, and things like that, but we are all really so alike that to look, you can’t see a difference. We behave similarly, we eat similar foods, grow similar flowers, have familiar shops, McDonalds, supermarkets…..  I’m not expressing myself very well either now I try to put it down on screen, but Di expressed it last night too, by saying, “Do you have to pinch yourself every now and then to realise we are sitting in our campervan in France/Belgium”. It’s that same feeling, yes, I do have to constantly tell myself I am in a different country, travelling the world…. It feels unreal at times…. Oh whatever….. I ‘m not getting across the depth of what I’m feeling… so I won’t try anymore.

Anyway here we are, on the border (literally) of France and Belgium.

 In fact I think the front wheels might be in Belgium and the back still in France. We stopped yesterday afternoon at this “Aires ….” Which is a truck stop which you are allowed to stay at for the night. This one is pretty ugly, just a large asphalt expanse beside a motorway, in fact once we had pulled over and seen just how ugly we were going to continue a further 4 kms to another one where there is I think a café and petrol station etc, which we thought might be nicer. However while stretching my legs, and looking for a photo opportunity I walked up a little ramp off to the side and discovered a large parking area in rural France/Belgium with as I described a beautiful outlook and protected from most of the noise of the motorway and truck-stop. In fact, so protected from the truck-stopthat it was only when Diana looked out the window after dinner that she/we noticed there were now about 100 huge trucks parked there and filling virtually every square metre of tarmac.

Yesterday was a trying day, one of those, “thank goodness that one’s finished” when you hop into bed at night. We started in Calais meaning to head south to near Lille where there is a campingvan parts and accessories supplier. They also sell books for “Passion France” which is a system I don’t know if I’ve already written about but bear with me, you can stay on these designated/volunteered properties throughout France for 24 hours for free. They are all producers of something, whether it is wine, cheese, honey, vegetables ….. whatever, but you get to try their produce (and they hope, buy some) and stay on their property before moving on. It only costs €29 which is probably 1 ½ times the cost of one night at a camping ground. They don’t necessarily have any facilities however so one of the conditions is that you are self-sufficient for sanitation and power.  Back to our trip. Diana misread my handwritten 26 for a 21 so instead of heading south we headed east, by the time I realised that the instructions she was reading me off the paper (copied off the internet from the camping car service website) were for a completely different road (our first roundabout in Calais had been the place of our error) we were in some tiny pokey little town, with narrow streets near Dunkirque. We tried to remedy the error by following a different motorway down to Lille area but of course our directions to the camping car place were no longer any use, and the maps we have are not quite detailed enough for small towns and roads. Suffice to say, after a stop at a McDonalds to check the directions again, and a long conversation (and written instructions) from a couple in the McDonald’s who I had with faltering French asked help of, we had directions of where to go. It was over 30 minutes from where we were, I don’t know how it works but our map has the A917 in one place (which is what we followed initially) but it goes for miles (which we drove) then seems to break in two, and many, many, miles to the north starts up again. So we eventually found what we wanted, after many terse words between driver and navigator, but what should have taken an hour maximum had taken 6 hours and much stress. We bought out Passion France Cartel, they didn’t sell generators (we want a little one for when we aren’t at a camping place so we can recharge electricals and run the fridge which I can’t get to go on gas despite following all the instructions, and which the man who serviced the camper said was working fine). The people at the shop directed us to a nearby place where we could stay but thankfully, before we set off on a slightly tamed goose chase I noticed that it wasn’t open for July (well I think that’s what the book says, they only had the French version!!!!), so instead we negotiated our way to here, 90kms from Bruxelles and heaved a sigh of relief as we settled in to our pre-dinner routine.

In the morning, before we headed away east I forgot to mention we took a (deliberate) detour west to a national park area/area of outstanding beauty called Blanc Nez?? It is about 20 minutes west of Calais over-looking the Channel, with white cliffs, golden beaches and stunning rural scenes. We had a walk up from where we parked to a big memorial to French soldiers from  WW1, we walked past numerous bunkers and gun emplacements left over from WW11 when the Germans occupied the area. It really was an area of outstanding beauty, despite the fact that halfway up the hill the heavens opened and a gale force wind decided to blast us with icy rain. While I was there, taking photos and hence being left a hundred metres or so behind the others, a very peculiar thing happened. Now make what you will of this, I’m sure you will each put your own spin on it, I remain unsure….. I looked up across the channel (remember I was walking up a hill which obscured parts of the view at various times as I walked) and against the slate coloured cloud I saw 5 “bombers” flying in a line across the sky, their silhouettes each about 2-3 inches long. I followed them for a few seconds, maybe 10-15, then continued my climb, shouting to Di and Hils who were at an observation point further up the hill with a clear view of the whole seascape for miles in east and west and north directions, to’ “look at the planes” and pointed to where they were (now obscured behind the top of the hill for me). Because of the wind and rain, though I wasn’t that far away they basically only heard, “planes” and looked out to sea and saw nothing. By the time I got up to them (only 30 seconds or so) of course there were no planes. Now there was enough sky space visible that there is no way they could have left the area of sight in the time, I kept watching, totally bemused, for quite a while and they didn’t reappear, and I’m not sure that they would have disappeared into the cloud it was reasonably high and when I saw them they were flying flat and below the cloud cover. I have no explanation. Hilary thinks I am crazy and asks cheeky questions like, “Did their wings flap” and other such disrespectful questions of an aging mother. I’m sure they weren’t birds!! I can’t say any more than that

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I know I haven’t blogged for ages, it’s a bit like writing a thesis, you try to be disciplined and write every day, but sometimes it just doesn’t happen, and yet other times the words flow.

I didn’t tell you about Legoland, that was last Saturday, we think it might be Saturday again now, but it could be Friday?? Who knows, it’s the 9^th of July so whatever that makes it. Gosh it seems like weeks ago, I guess that was a couple of countries ago!! What I’ll do is steal Hilary’s blog because a) I helped her write it, and b) I can’t be bothered plucking up the enthusiasm to write it again. Oh I just found the beginning of a session about it so I’ll insert that too. Legoland

We had a day at Legoland in Windsor,it was nearly 2 hours each way due to traffic and road works/diversions, but worth every minute of the drive and all the stress of negotiating multiple laned motorways and multi-roundabouts. We arrived in time for 10 o’clock opening and went straight to some of the activities Hilary had flagged the night before when she researched the interactive map online, as her most preferred ones.

The first thing was a tower which had 4, I think seats for two, the tower revolved slowly and there was a rope/abseiling system whereby you could hoist yourself up and then free-fall down again, as the tower revolved. Basically it was fun, provided good views of a lot of the park, and provided abit of a workout hauling on the rope to raise us up in the air.

Once we had completed this ride we went and looked around Miniland. Miniland is a wonderful display of lego scenes and buildings, there are British sites as well as European, Belgium, Brussels, German…… absolutely amazing!!!! There are moving vehicles, cranes, ships and yachts, harbour scenes, Stonehenge, Wembley Stadium, Trafalgar Square and Buckingham Palace. I tried to get some photos of humans to show the size of the constructions, most of you have probably seen similar theme parks but I hadn’t and I thought it was great as did Di and Hilary. 

I can’t remember the exact order of things but Hilary attended driving school, driving around a street/cityscape with stop signs and the like, red lights, with 20 other kids, some of whom obeyed road rules and others who didn’t. She loved it!!  And was issued with a Lego driver’s license when she finished. We also went to a laser ride/shoot the targets in a darkened Egyptian themed tunnel system. Again creatures, mosaics, treasure boxes all made with Lego and an opportunity for target practice as you are driven around the tunnels in the darkness in a little car/carriage thing.

We also went on a Vikings ship which rocked up and down/ well swung horrifically actually end on end, I found it exhilarating in between gasps of fresh air, and a desire to spew. Hilary didn’t like it and was quite frightened and Di felt much the same as Hilary but with the desire to spew mixed in, perhaps we shouldn’t have done it just after lunch. Hilary and I also went on a junior style roller-coaster, again I thought it was fun, a wee bit adrenaline rushy, at times a little nerve racking. Hilary found it OK, she said it hurt her back, and I think she was a little scared.

One of her favourite rides was the ?? spider, which was a whirly thing. We sat in a round (not spherical) thing, a bit like a booth at an American restaurant, which was affixed to a circle of revolving ground on a bigger circle. What I’m trying to describe is a ride in which three bits revolve, the one you are in can revolve either at the set speed, or by pulling on the circle in the middle (like a flat steering wheel) you could make it revolve faster. It revolved on another revolving bit.

 It was a fantastic day though, we all thoroughly enjoyed it, we were quite exhausted once we got back to Yvonne’s with the nearly 4 hours of driving plus the 8 hours of go go go at Legoland itself.

Sunday and Monday we just stayed at Finchley, did a few chores in preparation for continuing our journey, stocked up on vitals like cruskits and rice wafers, non sugared cereals, and skim milk as all are impossible to find in France.

Tuesday we left Finchley at 0740 to catch the 1150 ferry to Calais from Dover. The aa route planner said 2 hours and 9 minutes, so we allowed twice that, knowing travelling foreign roads and rush hour traffic could cause problems. Thank goodness we did, it took us 2 hours and 20 minutes to get to the M25 still 68 miles from Dover. At one point it took an hour to get 100 metres. It was ridiculous, there were road works at a busy intersection so three lanes were down to 1, but the main route has so many feeder streets onto it that the traffic from the feeder streets just drove into the main flow as soon as they arrived at the flow and the cars (like us) on the main flow couldn’t progress. Crazy!!!! We made it to the ferry check-in with two minutes to spare (1118), but it was free flowing through border control and the P & O check-in.  In fact border control was so free flowing that as I approached the window and said, “Bonjour monsieur” to the French officer, before I could show him our passports he waved us through. I’m not sure if it was the French number-plates or the fact I said hello in his own language, or the fact we didn’t look like anything other than tourists, I’m not sure, but we are here on the continent with passports that don’t show we ever left Britain, which also means that the 3 month only non visa status for us travelling on NZ passports can’t be enforced because nobody knows when we arrived. I hope there aren’t any downsides to it when we do get to a controlled border?? All will be revealed.

Legoland

2 days around London

It’s Sunday now, another hot and sunny day in London, though it is only 7.30am. Forecast is for 24 degrees. We plan on catching the tube in to the Museum of London, with Yvonne, and then having a stroll along the Thames, we will see what happens.

I can’t remember when I last posted a blog, I think I need to start with Thursday when we ventured north along some busy motorways and some very narrow country roads in search of the Ada Cole Horse (and donkey) Sanctuary. It took some finding, the  map on the pamphlet wasn’t too detailed and the address, being a country road narrowed it down to about a 10 mile stretch on a B road. We did find it though after an hour and a bit, many wrong turnings, and a few terse words.

I can’t remember if I’ve already explained about this establishment? It is a sanctuary which originally was set up by Ada Cole in the late 19^th century. She was an animal rights activist mainly around their care and transport and she did a lot of animal rescues. She was a woman of “moderate means” but set up a sanctuary for animals. This particular property was taken on by Redwings which is a huge outfit that has properties all over the UK, when it became harder for the Ada Cole rescue centre to support itself.

Yvonne has adopted a pony called Katy who is a bay mare (who will be having her 21^st birthday on July 27^th- and to whose party Yvonne has been invited). Katy has been at the sanctuary since 1996, she was removed from her owners at that time because she was not being appropriately cared for, she had a big cut on the top of her tail which wasn’t being treated, and was being fed amongst other things, onions and yoghurt (I don’t know if together, a bit like white sauce and onions I guess). Anyway Yvonne when we asked what she would like to do for a day out, asked if we would like to go to the sanctuary to meet Katy, which sounded like a nice trip to us. Unfortunately Katy is quite shy and wouldn’t come over to where we were, neither would any of her paddock-mates, they stayed munching grass away in the distance, to the point we couldn’t be sure which bay horse was Katy. However there were plenty of other more keen characters who were very happy to have nose scratched and necks rubbed with which we obliged. We spent a couple of hours wandering around, reading the stories of where the horses/ponies/donkeys had come from and why, many awful stories of neglect and improper care. I don’t think any of the animals could complain about their life now, they have beautiful paddocks, friends, lots of love and attention, good food and all look, to my untrained eye, in wonderful condition.

From here we took some more narrow and winding roads south to inside the M25 where we went and visited some garden nurseries. The first was the best (though they served cold coffee), with acres of glass houses full of fantastic colourful plants. It was a gardening club property which meant you couldn’t buy anything without joining (£5 for the first year and then £2 per year thereafter), it would certainly be worth it if you were local and a gardener, the prices and selection were very good. We however just browsed and enjoyed before our disappointing cups of coffee at the café.

We looked around a few more nurseries, they are really “everything for the home” shops, huge, but not that great really, but there are quite a few close together so I guess making a living is pretty hard, they had limited selection of plants considering they were nurseries, but maybe the competition from the gardening clubs is too much so they rely on their other products for profit.

From here we drove home prepared and had dinner followed by a quiet evening before bed. Foxy came to visit as we were settling so Diana and I watched him from the upstairs window as first he selected tasty bits before sneaking off behind the toi toi to eat them, and then later grabbed 3 lard sandwiches in his mouth and headed off over the fence, I presume back to the den and his family.

The next day we didn’t do much. I had a grocery shopping trip from hell, it took about 3 hours to go a couple of miles, get groceries and get back again. The traffic was horrendous, there weren’t parks anywhere, roads were blocked to the campervan because there were wide trucks doing “works”, the supermarket car parks either have height barriers, too small parking spaces or are too narrow inside the parking building for the truck. I tried 3 supermarkets to no avail, the road parks were all full, our usual car-park (which has a height barrier, but we can go around the barrier so do, (I presume for the rubbish trucks to pick up the skips but I don’t know why they bother with the barriers then??)had a market going on in it so there weren’t any parks there either. Eventually I parked a hundred metres or so from the nearest supermarket in a hardware/home store place hoping they wouldn’t ticket me. They are ferocious ticketers around here. We got a parking ticket the other day for £60, reduced to 30 if paid within 14 days, for being a few minutes late back to the truck. I was pissed off in the extreme… However thankfully they had written “Humber” as vehicle type instead of “Hymer” which I understand makes it invalid, so we have written a letter to that effect to the issuing council.

Anyway my trip to the supermarket continued to be trying, I got to the checkout, and tried to pay, but they don’t accept credit cards. Now my card is a debit card, i.e. it has the money loaded on it, but because it is issued by mastercard it is recognised as a credit card, so the very pompous checkout operator did her best to humiliate me and I had to go and get cash from the machine. Next problem was I had to try to carry all these groceries to the truck, I had 4 very huge recyclable bags full of heavy items, I could barely lift the bags and my arms and shoulders were just about falling off as I struggled along. I made it about 30 metres before just about crying with pain. I stopped at an office type place and asked a very ungracious man if I could leave two bags and come back. He begrudgingly said yes, as he barely stopped his conversation with a colleague. Even carrying two bags was a real struggle, I managed to get back to the truck and returned for the other two bags before again struggling back to the truck. By now I was only 150 cm tall but each arm was about 140cm long and my shoulder joints separated by about 30cm. In fact my shoulders and arms still ache today 2 days later!!

In the afternoon Di and I walked back up to North Finchley to browse through the market and have a coffee. Though a bit of a hike, it was much easier than taking the truck. Hilary stayed with Yvonne, painting a picture of a horse, and eating ice-cream in the sun.