From Becky – We were quite organised for the journey, really. We left Alton dead on time, due largely to Mum and Dad taking charge of the dog, the baby, the kids and the maelstrom we left behind. I felt quite emotional leaving.
Back to being organised; the final list read:
Things to pack on Tuesday morning:
- Blue bag of food including bottles
- Socks for Cara
- Sponge bag, shampoo, cream
- Kids’ bedding
- Sterliser
Things to buy in Dover
- Euros
- Adaptor plug
- Post Bea’s CD
- Milk
We left one thing off the list – buy petrol. We only had enough for about 35 miles when we got off the ferry, and by the time the first services turned out to be just parking spaces (‘Aire’ obviously doesn’t always mean ’services’), the second had its sliproad blocked by road works and the third had all its pumps out of order (“it weell be worrkeeng in hallf an hour, Monsieur”) the car’s computer-thing was telling us that we had 7 miles’ worth of fuel left when we finally managed to fill up. Phew.
We did everything on the list except buying milk. We remembered it after the shops had closed in Reims in the evening. Cara and Theo just about coped without their requisite bottles of milk yesterday evening, but took it in turns to wake every half hour from 4.00 this morning, yelling blue murder that they needed milk. Jasper went out at 7am, then again at 7.30 and 8.00. We were very surprised to find no shops open at that time – even the boulangeries were only just setting up at 8.00. But he managed to bring back croissants, and that kept everybody happy until we got ourselves together and set off to explore Reims.
It was very quiet. Very, very quiet. Strange. We put 2 euros in the parking meter, and noticed that the ticket said we were paid up until 14.00 on 2nd November – the next day. Excellent value! It was Jasper who said, “It coudn’t be some kind of holiday, could it?” Ah, yes, Toussaints. The French have a lot of bank holidays, and take them rather seriously, I now remember. It explains a lot: the lack of shops open (apart from any number of florists, so that people can take flowers to their deceased relatives); the hotel manager saying we could leave the room whenever we liked this morning as he wouldn’t be around. And we gradually discovered that there really wasn’t anybody working – we could wander across traffic intersections in central Reims at toddler pace without fear of being run over, but we most certainly could not buy a bottle of milk. Cara and Theo accepted this when we found a cafe to serve us hot chocolate and a carousel where they could ride up-and-down horses. They both had tantrums when they had to get off, and carrying them kicking and screaming along the road we realised that there were a few people around after all – they were all looking at us kindly and saying things like, “Ah, that doesn’t bode well for when she’s 16″. But we felt good about understanding what they were saying and replying with a few words of coversational French.
So, two days into our trip and two lessons in not underestimating the differences between the English and French cultures. Having said all that, we’ve really enjoyed ourselves. We had a lovely, very French meal last night, and the kids tucked into their chicken supreme with ratatouille. Last night’s hotel made up in character what it lacked in comfort, and we pushed four beds together to make one huge bed so that no-one could fall out. We’ve driven through beautiful Champagne countryside today, with vineyards turning autumnal colours, trying to understand French radio while the kids all slept in the back of the car. We’ve drunk lots of hot chocolate. And we’re now tucked into our Formule 1 room (“29 euros pour 1, 2 ou 3 personnes!”) with Luca in the travel cot, Cara and Theo in the double bed and Jasper and me above them in the single bunk. We’ve started our adventure!
