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.