Closing Pandora's Box

In my post on Friday, I mentioned I was going on a trip to Paris. In the end, after a ‘family meeting’, we decided to go to Belgium instead, to a place with the unpronounceable name of Brugge. I can pronounce it, but the variations I’ve heard go from Brugga, Bruggie (brother’s bogie) to Bruggay. I can’t phonetically write it because I just don’t know how to put the sound into letters. Anyway, this is how the day went.

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We were meant to leave the house at 7.45am, so that we’d make it in time to catch the ferry from Dover. It was 7.30 when my eyes opened and I realised the whole house was still covered snuggly by sleep’s blanket. I was slumped on the sofa with a book that had now ended up on the floor. DAMN! I must’ve fallen asleep after reading morning prayers. All I could remember was going to bed too early, but not knocking out till much much later, waking up to pray, grabbing a book to read and then nothing. It wasn’t long before the whole house was awake and the toilet line became too long. I smiled to myself. I don’t think there has ever been a time when we, as a family have managed to get ready and leave to go somewhere on time. When we finally got ready and had everything packed the time was 8.45am. It had been raining all night, but we weren’t going to let a little bit of water dampen our spirits.

The plan was to drive from London to Dover, catch a ferry from there to Calais (France) and then drive to Brugge.

With dad hurtling down the M20 towards Dover, it was no surprise we got there well in time. So early in fact that we had to wait at the port for approximately half an hour. Dad knew our record of never being ready on time and so purposely told us we would be leaving at 7.45am just so that we would ‘hurry up’ a little. The sun had come out, and you could tell the little ones were excited; my brother wouldn’t stop farting. It was time to board the ferry.

We drove onto the ferry, parked the car and ran up onto the deck. I think we were meant to take our seats first because we missed all the initial safety instructions regarding what to do in an emergency. Who cares? Dear God, please let us have a safe journey. K thanks bye. The boat finally started moving and the hair blowing (literally) journey across the English Channel had begun.

“What’re you looking at?”

The beautiful white cliffs of Dover getting further…

…and further away

The closer we got to Calais, the harder the wind blew and the darker the clouds became. My hair felt like it was going to blow away any minute. Luckily however, it stopped for a few seconds allowing me to take a picture with the one and only little bro and the little sis.

As we entered the port of Calais…

…the little brother called over some of his mates.

Little Sister: What are all those seagulls doing?
Littler Brother: I think they must have sniffed out my farts.

Amidst ominous grey skies we disembarked from the ferry and were shocked to find that Europe drives on the wrong side of the road.

[End of part 1]

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The rest of the day’s adventures will be posted soon and then you can hear all about chocolate cock(rel)s, church services, boat rides and the pretty lady at Pizza Hutt.

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Title: Come sail away – Styx
All photographs were from personal photography except for the map which was taken from Google maps.