A trip to France

We are staying with my mother for a few days while my sister is away, and, when we were planning our visit, I suggested we went to France for the day. My mother leapt at the idea, and so it was arranged.

We set off at 07:00 as we wanted to take plenty of time on the journey. We tried to stop at Clackett Lane services, but the petrol station, which my sister had said was the easiest place to go to the loo, but this was a bust as it was closed due to occupation by Extinction Rebellion or Insulate Britain, or one of those, so we had to stop at Maidstone Services, instead.  This was irritating because for some reason they don't let you go  back on to the motorway southbound from there, but you have to go back up to J7 and turn round there. Quite why, when there are several hundred meters after the exit before Operation Brock begins and you are directed on to the contraflow. This wasn't too bad, although we were limited to 50 mph for about 11 miles. There were very few lorries in their area then, although it was a lot fuller on the way back.

We got to the terminal in time to get a crossing 30 minutes earlier than booked, but also time to pay a quick visit to the terminal, which I haven't done for ages. Don't usually bother when we are in the motor home, but as the SW wanted coffee and was tempted by a bacon roll, as was I, and I got some orange juice, too, it was a good idea. The crossing was uneventful, although it felt odd to have nothing to do but read (I'd brought my Kindle, but the other two had nothing to read and were bored), as we are used to unpacking or packing or even getting ready for bed during the crossing when we are in the motor home.

In France, we went straight to Cité Europe. As we had my mother with us, we could park in the disabled bays near the entrance, and she and I wandered round Carrefour - she had her walker and I had the trolley. The Swan Whisperer, meanwhile, swept out the car, which he should have done before we left but hadn't, and then he cleverly reprogrammed my car  key fob, which had stopped  working. And went to look at the restaurants to see where we could have lunch. He decreed that we should eat tartes flambées, so we walked the entire length of the shopping centre to get to the restaurant he had chosen.

The tartes were delicious, but very filling, and neither my mother nor I could finish ours, but we scraped off the toppings and ate then - and, of course, we tasted each other's!  Mum had a glass of wine, I had fizzy water (I so wanted beer, but I'm on strong antibiotics and can't) and the SW had Coke.

We had about 45 minutes before we had to head back, so drove into Calais and visited the Burghers,

and then back to the terminal via Coquelles. We discovered that at Calais there is a special disabled lane (if there is one at Folkestone we didn't see it) which meant we got to board first! Sadly, this was not to be for awhile, as there was a disruption of some kind (not unusual) so we were half an hour later than planned.

The drive home was non-stop and uneventful. I think both Mum and I slept most of the way until we came off the motorway!

A long way to go to visit a supermarket, but worth it! A most enjoyable day. 

"Why come ye not to court?"

 You don't go on the river for three years, and then two cruises come along at once!  This one was very different from our afternoon tea cruise.  This one was a short cruise between Kingston and Hampton Court, on board the Yarmouth Belle, which, built in 1892 is the oldest surviving passenger vessel on the Thames.  

We started off, however, by going up to Vauxhall to meet the Boys, and then up to Vauxhall Station, where we had just missed a train to Kingston, but they are every 10-15 minutes, so we didn't have long to wait.  The journey to Kingston takes about 30 minutes; the train said it was going to Strawberry Hill, as, indeed, it was, but it then looped round to come back via Hampton and Richmond, so the destination signs on the train said Waterloo, very confusing!  

The Boys had both said they weren't feeling very well, but soon cheered up at the thought of lunch at Five Guys, a favourite of theirs (and given the amount they ate, there can't be much wrong with either of them).  The Swan Whisperer and I had never been to this particular chain, but our expert grandsons showed us the ropes!  I chose a grilled veggie sandwich with cheese,

and very good it was, too, if rather difficult to eat!  The Boys both had burgers - one with bacon and cheese and the other with just cheese - and the most revolting-looking milkshakes topped with whipped cream, which they seemed to enjoy.  The Swan Whisperer ordered a grilled cheese sandwich with onions, and then we ordered a large chips to share between the four of us, which was just a nice amount.  

When we had finished eating, and topping up our water bottles with the free ice cubes provided, it was time to walk down to the river - not the loveliest walk in the world - and await our ship.  I had booked in advance, but in fact, hadn't really needed to, as there were only two other families on the boat with us.  

It is not a long distance between Kingston and Hampton Court, but long enough to be enjoyable.  The weather was rather irritating, as it was too hot with a coat on and not quite warm enough with it off!  The Boys spent some of their time in the interior, and went down the spiral staircase into the lounge - "Very old-fashioned," they told me.  I didn't go down, it looked rather steep for coming up again.  The Swan Whisperer spent all his time on deck, and I spent most of mine, as there was so much to see, from swans to be whispered at, 

St Raphael's Catholic church

Hampton Court park

and, of course, Hampton Court Palace itself.

"Why come ye not to court? To which court? The King's Court, or Hampton Court?"

The Boys were rather tired - I think they may have overdone it playing football the previous day - and so was I, so we didn't linger; we walked across the bridge to Hampton Court station (thus, for the Boys, and later for the Swan Whisperer, who took them home, meaning that they had gone under the river, on the river and over the river all on the same day!) and so a train to Clapham Junction and back to ours for a most welcome cup of tea.  

There are more photos on Facebook, if you are interested.