This has been such a grand adventurish kind of day (even involved two countries) that it deserves several titles.
Started out at oh-dark-early, which translates in English to about 6:30 a.m. Actually, that was what time I sat down at the breakfast table, so it started even earlier than 6:30... which, as a non-morning person, may cause me physical pain if I contemplate that too long so... shall we just forge ahead?
So... by 7:30 a.m. we were turning from Cyprus Place (the street upon which we are currently staying) onto the road that leads off toward grand adventures... and off we went.
Rather than hurrying along and taking big roads like the M20, we took smaller roads that led across the Romney Marsh again and then up along the coast. En route, we got to see gorgeous skies that Dorie called "Turner skies" for the artist J. M. W. Turner. Well, Dorie, Catch, and Mom got to appreciate the bright shiny clouds while I tried to not get distracted by the bright shiny clouds... bad for my capacity to drive. Luckily (or not, depending on your point of view), I was not highly caffeinated so keeping my focus on the road was pretty simple.
Along the way to Dover, we saw an inn and pub called The Valiant Sailor. I liked that a lot.
We passed through towns with names like Old Romney, New Romney, St. Mary's Bay, Dymchurch (not to be confused with Ivychurch), Brenzett, Sandgate, Hamstreet, Burmarsh, Folkestone and Ashford. Not far away were the towns of Little-Stone-on-Sea and Great-Stone-on-Sea. Love those names.
The day was intermittently bright and sunny, and then it would rain on us, not stormy rain like we had the night before, but more like a rain reminding us: "Do not forget, you are in England, and it rains in England." A polite rain, actually. We stopped along the seawall near Hythe to take photos of the Channel. The waves were most choppy and splashing up against the beach making splendiferous spray. We took photos. Lots of photos.
Got to the vicinity of Dover with forty minutes to go before we needed to check in for the ferry. Took a good chunk of those minutes making our way to the Eastern Docks. Of course, part of our slowness was being distracted by Dover Castle presiding over the city, and the sheer beauty of driving along below the truly white cliffs of Dover.
Got there and got our tickets, then I left everyone else in the terminal lobby while I went to park the car in the parking deck. Around and around and around I went, ever upward, because though there were many empty spaces on the lower levels, they were all roped or barricaded off for some obscure reason. Guess it was the Universe's way of making sure I got to see the scenery from atop Level 8 of the parking deck.
Beautiful. The docks with H-U-G-E ferry ships laid out before me, with the sun glinting on the Channel behind them. And to my back, the white cliffs. I took some more photos and then went to meet everyone to wait for the bus to take us and the other foot passengers to the ferry.
When the bus came to collect us, we all boarded and got taken off to Passport Control first, and then Security. At Passport Control, we all got off the bus, presented our passports for stamping, and then got back on the bus. A few minutes later, we and our baggage got off the bus again to go through security. Imagine airport security without having to take off your shoes. Then some more vigourous twisting and turning through the maze that is the Eastern Docks, and we were let out at the bottom of The Eternal Ramp Up.
We've named it The Eternal Ramp Up because that is very much what it felt like. Up and up and up some more we went. Basically it was a ship gangway that led from the dock level up about four levels to the ferry entry... but those four levels were attained by walking around a square gantry. A mountain, really. Eventually we made it. Should've planted a flag at the top of the ramp. Instead we gained passage aboard the Pride of Burgundy for the Dover-Calais crossing.
We found ourselves a table in the after lounge on the 7th deck and settled in for the journey. Over cups of tea, we watched out the big picture windows and waited for the trip to begin. As the ship got underway and the white cliffs of Dover began to fall away astern, we cleared the seawall around the port of Dover and actually began to feel movement of the sea. The Channel was choppy and a stiff wind was blowing. Though the ferry was BIG, there was enough wave action that it made sea legs necessary. Which was really cool, because it's been a long time since that was needed.
The Pride of Burgundy is a big, big ship. Lots to do onboard. Gaming on slot machines, if one is so inclined (we weren't). Bars at which one can order any number of alcoholic beverages to drink and then double them for £1 additional; didn't do that either (sadly, they didn't offer the same option for tea). There is a shop onboard at which one can buy alcohol, tobacco, and chocolates... I bought a duck. A little rubber duck. An English bobby little rubber duck.
Then Mom and I went up on the aft port weather deck, also known as the Verandah Deck. It was beautiful, sunny, warm(ish), big fluffy clouds overhead. Salt in the air. Sea spray, too. We took lots of photos, of Dover astern and France ahead. From the middle of the Channel, you can see both countries if the weather is cooperating. It was. And then I asked a fellow to take a photo of Mom and me. There, in the Channel between France and England, on a British-flagged ship, I needed the only language other than English that I have any command of -- Spanish -- to communicate with him. That was very very cool. And he most graciously agreed, took a GREAT photo of us.
(I promise, we WILL get photos added to this commentary soon.)
Debarkation in Calais was much easier than embarkation in Dover... the mountain path led downward this time. Got on another bus, got carried to another terminal, got off that bus and onto another one that took us into Calais. Since none of us read the signs on the fronts of the buses, we got onto the city bus that cost €2 instead of the little tiny ferry bus that was free. Luckily, we all had euros. Rode down to the Calais train station, and then hiked back to the city centre. On the way, we saw a very large floral sculpture called La Paon (the peacock). And L'Hotel de Ville, which is very castle-ish looking. And pirates! PIRATES!! Mom took my photo with them. And though they may have been plastic pirates, Dorie did note that they were FIERCE plastic pirates. Ha.
Had lunch at a brasserie. The placemats on our table featured a Wild West show to be presented in Calais sometime in October. Mom and Dorie had soupe de legume (veggie soup), Catch and I went with the croque a vec fromage et jambon (grilled ham and cheese). And, being in France, I of course ordered french fries. Pommes de terre frites, actually. Sounds so much swankier that way.
After lunch, we made our way to the shopping district near the town center. Found a souvenir and gift shop along the way (yes, postcards), and then a bit further along we found a clothing shop, across the street from a lingerie shop, up the block from a pastry shop, and just a bit past the wine shop. All the French necessities in close proximity.
Then it was time to head back to the bus stop to catch the bus back to the ferry. Except it was a long way to walk and a short time to get there (plus we were tired) so we caught a taxi. And got to the bus stop 10 minutes after the bus schedule said the last bus came by. And started to walk back to the train station to catch another taxi, when the bus came by the stop. So we caught the bus back to the ferry terminal after all.
At the terminal we went to the check-in, and encountered the only rude French person of the day. But all the polite, kind and helpful French folk we met throughout the day completely offset his silliness. One of the kind French folk was a man who worked at the terminal information desk. When I asked him where the mail drop was so I could send postcards from France, he was startled to realize he did not have that information. So he took the postcards for me and tucked them into his outgoing official mail. Nice.
Then, after we cleared security again and had our passports stamped some more and got settled in at the passenger departure lounge, I decided it was imperative that we have at least a few French pastries, so I went back out through security, found the cafe upstairs, obtained three pastries that looked apple-ish, chocolate, and meringue-ish, and had them wrapped for take-away. By the time I got back down to the passenger lounge (I had to send the pastries through the xray scanner), Mom, Dorie, and Catch were all sitting in a row... napping.
After a bit, an announcement came along to let us know they were horribly sorry to have kept us waiting so long but due to weather across the Channel (as in England) the ferry was a bit delayed but they would get us boarded soon. Luckily, the "mobility bus" came to the terminal for us, then drove directly on to the ferry and deposited us at the foot of the lift that took us directly up to the top passenger deck of the ferry. That was a WHOLE lot simpler than us trying to scale the Mountain of Perpetual Ramp.
From where we sat, we had excellent views of Calais as we left, and then of the ocean as we got underway. We also had excellent views of the rain as it poured down on us... making us very glad we had finished up our walking around in town when we did. The return trip to England was another lovely ride across the Channel. In fact, spending a few hours in Calais, France, was a nice (and incidental) interlude to two lovely ferry rides across the Channel, and gave us all a chance to practice saying "s'il vois plais" and "merci" a lot.
Upon our return to English soil, we bailed the car out of car jail and headed back to Rye. Rather than taking the smaller slower coastal road, we opted for the bigger faster M20 that got us back to Ashford and then the highway from Ashford to Rye.
One note: when being followed by a car with high beams directly in your rearview mirror, roundabouts come in most handy. Just go round and round the roundabout, roundabout, roundabout... round and round the roundabout, round and round again... and by the time you leave the roundabout the offending car has turned off. (I do want a sign for the top of the car that simply says "American.")
Anyway, made it back to Rye about 9:15 pm, and decided a light supper in followed by some SkipBo was the perfect end to an excellent day.
