Calais

Making good time after an early start, we pushed on through Germany and Belgium (missing out Holland this time) and then realised, as we entered France just south of Ostend, that we were going to be far to early at the Tunnel but hadn't really thought of anywhere to stop in the vicinity, especially since experience told us that Calais wasn't really worth the time and effort and, it being Sunday, France was basically closed anyway... We tried heading for somewhere just outside of Dunkirk called (I think, I can't be bothered to look it up...) St. Pol-sur-Mer, though we hadn't seen any sea at all before we turned round and hightailed it out of that grim-looking, Folkestone-ish suburb (which we'd rechristened 'Haregate-on-Sea' by that point - a joke that might mean something to maybe one and a half non-Primes potentially reading this!) Back on the main road to Calais, and insufficiently chastened by that experience, we tried Oy-Plage instead. This one at least had the sea - you could just about see it in the distance beyond several miles of scrubby windblown dunes, piles of dog shit and scattered, surly parties of no-doubt knife-wielding French teens... Suffice to say, we ended up eating our picnic in the centre of Calais before spending far too much of the afternoon at the ante-chamber to Hell that is the terminal on the French side of the Euro Tunnel (and all crossings running an hour late for good measure...)

Back home late and grateful...!