The Journey So Far...

Well, packed and ready to go, we leave with 30 minutes up our sleeve to get to destination one in time! Jumping into Derby, (our trusty Chrysler, named after the town in the UK we bought him from), we set the Sat Nav for Dover, (the bottom of the UK where we are boarding the ferry to France), and head off. The back of Derby has been converted into shelving and a bed, and despite the fact that our heads nearly touch the roof while in the bed, we are confident in it's comfort for the next two months...I mean lets face it, a wardrobe and as many comforts of home as possible, or a lower bed and little claustrophobia...not even a close toss-up! Two minutes down the road, and ready to turn into the tunnel over the Thames, we find it is shut...at 9 oclock at night, due to renovations! Welcome to London transport! A 35 minute detour and our enthusiastic start has dwindled to a couple of arguments and much stress. Still...according to the Sat Nav, we will be there with 2 minutes to spare for last check in...we have faith...we will make it! All faith is quickly dashed when the van is no longer able to change into top gear and we are heading down the motorway in 3rd gear, revving at 5000 revs! More arguments follow as we discuss the fact that the gear box is likely stuffed and will cost us a massive chunk of our holiday budget to get it fixed! The holiday is doomed before we have even left the country...Yip...that's the Holmes's travelling in style for ya, seamless beginnings!! :-) Still...we troop on and running 15 minutes late for the ferry, manage to drag poor Derby, desperately out of oomph, onto the ferry! We are actually the last vehicle on, and within seconds the ferry has closed it's enormous back door and is leaving the dock!

First night in France, and after some driving around in hunt of a relatively safe, yet dark and private place to park our self-made caravan, we snuggle down, noses to the roof, for some much needed sleep at 3am! It takes me most of the first night to realise that just because I can see out of Derby's tinted windows, it does not mean that anyone can actually see in. My night is filled with dreams about someone peering in at me through the window, and knowing that Ben, the darling that he is, will be no help to me at all, as once his pretty little head has hit the pillow, he wouldn't hear a freight train going by, I would be left to defend myself. And on the unlikely event of him actually waking to an intruder, it would be to a sleep-talking, sleep-walking state, he might then greet the intruder by calling him Stevo, and opening the door to him. The fact that I awoke to Ben trying to open the door in his half asleep state several times throughout the night, did little to ease my discomfort! Waking in the morning, Mission 1; Day 1, was to figure out what was wrong with Derby, and after being assured, (well, we are hoping that is what we were bieng assured, due to the fact that we were interpreting our no knowledge of French into some semblance of English), that the gear box wasn't broken and that there is likely just some connection that has gotten old and needs replacing and to just take it easy. We press on!

Day's 2-4 are just slightly more successful with sombre visits to the D-Day beaches, and Normandy Memorial, (the one at the beginning of Saving Private Ryan, with the white crosses), followed by Le Mont St-Michel, an absolutely stunning old fashioned village on a tiny island, which we walked to braving the torrential rain. A good mix of awe and emotion. We unsuccessfully tried to break into a camping ground shower, stuffed ourselves with baguettes, drank mountains of far-too-strong coffee, mastered the use of our gas cooker with fried rice, and some interesting pasta/salami combo, and pretty much decided we want to buy a chalet in the French countryside.

Day's 5-onward, and we are looking forward to a proper shower, rather than sponge bath in the McDonald's toilets, and settling down in St Sebastian, Spain, to soak up the sun for a couple of days.