Saturday, 30 July 2016
Then it was time to go through the check in for the Shuttle - we were very unimpressed by the so-called heightened French security, they didn't even bother to look at our passports! We squeezed on to the shuttle before the one we were booked on, which is always pleasing, and were back in the UK by about noon, UK time. We stopped at Maidstone Services to have lunch, and were home by 14:30. Now unpacked and tidied up (mostly) and catching up!
Friday, 29 July 2016
Thursday, 28 July 2016
Wednesday, 27 July 2016
Tuesday, 26 July 2016
Monday, 25 July 2016
Sunday, 24 July 2016
It wasn't the road traffic that kept us awake, it was the seagulls at 4:00 am, and the pigeons at 5:00! We got up about 7, and the Swan Whisperer went for a run while I got dressed and breakfast. When we had cleared up, we caught a bus into Whitstable and went to the service at the Baptist Church, where the Daughter's Godmother's husband is the minister. Lovely service except we sang "Teach me to dance", which i like, but is such an earworm!
After this, we caught the bus back to the motor home and had lunch, and then set off for Folkestone. We soon realised we were going to be far too early, which they do ask you not to be, so we parked in a Forestry Commission car park and the SW went for a walk. We had been told there would be a wait of about 30 minutes to check in and then a delay of about an hour before crossing, and that was pretty accurate, but we got across at last and drove down to Arras. The aire we had hoped to park in was full, but there is on-street parking, so we have parked up across the road from it. And are having supper and then what will be an early night by UK standards, but France is, of course an hour ahead.
Saturday, 23 July 2016
We slept well in the aire in Canterbury last night, and were up betimes in the morning. We set off about 10. First stop Halfords for more loo chemical, and we also bought a clip-on bin for the van. We then drove down to the former airport at Manston to the Spitfire and Halifax Memorial Museum as we had planned to spend the night there and wanted to see if it was gated (it isn't). We visited the museum and had lunch in the café there, very nice, and then the Swan Whisperer went to the RAF museum in the same site while I had a nap.
The Daughter's godmother lives in Whitstable, and when she heard we were in the area, she invited us over. They were busy all day but told us where to look for parking and we arranged to meet in the evening. In the end, we found a long-stay car park where we could park overnight, and we had our supper and then she came to meet us and walked us back to her house along the sea front. We spent a very pleasant couple of hours with her and her husband, and then they walked us back to where it was just half a mile or so along the road to the car park.
Friday, 22 July 2016
Sunday, 3 July 2016
There are some excellent photos on the BBC report of the event.
Two years ago, The Boy was not quite four and Boy Too was about 9 months. Now he is nearly 6 and his brother is 2 3/4. It makes a huge difference - Boy Too was loving the exhibits, especially the ones he could climb on or get into, while The Boy was able to read the captions and generally realise far more what was happening than that someone had put all these buses there for his pleasure.
I didn't enjoy the exhibition as much as I'd liked the Bus Cavalcade. There were several old buses, a tube carriage ("The same as the one in the Transport Museum" said The Boy - it probably was that one) and a couple of taxis, but after that it was rather more static exhibitions about the present and the future of transport design. The most popular - from the boys' point of view, anyway - was a giant London train set, with Tower Bridges, buses, and Underground trains. Both boys were promptly absorbed, and the Daughter worried about an exit strategy, but in the event Boy Too is learning to do without nappies and didn't quite make it ("I'm all wet!" he said, ecstatically), and once he had been put in dry clothes, The Boy came away very cheerfully, with no sulking.
There were also things you could colour in, and people giving out free yo-yos and boxes of peppermints, and endless stickers. And various concession stalls. "Frozen yoghurt!" said the Boy, blissfully, but we pointed out that there were six of us (Mrs Rev had joined us for the afternoon, lovely to see her) and it would be too expensive. I noticed the Swan Whisperer eyeing the ice pops stall thoughtfully, but again, probably too expensive if you bought one for all of us.
But I don't think any of us were really sorry to arrive at Oxford Circus and meet the boys' father who had come to join them. And The Boy went into one last tent to do one last colouring, and we went our separate ways.