The beaver is a proud and noble animal
Notes from a bemused canuck
We’ve been wanting to do a tiled table for a while now, for several dog-related reasons. We’re hoping that the tiles and metal railings will prevent him from eating the damn thing, and hopefully help cool him down in the summer heat. We did it with the oldies while they were here over xmas. It almost looks like we knew what we were doing, and I’m super happy with the final result.
We left Leicester on the morning of Jan 2 and made good time to Dover with no issues. On the way, I wanted to see if there were issues at the port, but the website is a bit shit so I googled and found the Twitter feed of the port. This is what I saw:
My heart skipped a beat, until I noticed that this post was 3 years old, pre-Brexit. FFS.
Once we made it to Dover, things started to go wahooney-shaped. We got there at 1115. Our ferry was scheduled for 1430. It took us over 1h to make it past the 1st (French) border check. There were 8 lanes of traffic, filtering into only 2 border gates.
After finally making it through, we got singled out for a random security check, huzzah. We discovered that no one knew how to pop the car hood open, so we looked like idiots, but besides that, everything was fine. Navigating the port was much simpler, and we found the right lane easily. Unfortunately, the weather made the ferry late for arrival, later for boarding, and even later for departure. The captain even commented that the weather would make things a bit exciting. We made it through fine, even the byby. In the end, we made it to the hotel for 7pm, which is mad because it took us less time to get to Calais from Morges on the first day of travel…
We had dinner at the hotel, like last time, but this time both Katy and Ben started feeling a bit green after dinner. This did not bode well. I got super anxious, with visions of food-poisoned family stuck in the hotel, with dog, until things got better. In the end, after a few hours of sleep, Katy felt that she was ok-ish enough to make the drive home.
The weather was truly horrible. There was a wind warning, flood warnings for Pas-de-Calais and the roads were rain soaked to the point where we couldn’t see the road markings and had to use the force a few times. Passing lorries, with all the spray, was anus-clenching at times.
Once the sun came up, driving became easier. Ben and the dog were sleeping in the back seat, so that was good. We confirmed out first impression that French services are a bit shit, and for reasons unknown, the toilet seats are all squat toilets, with no toilet seats. This is not pleasant. We finally found services that had an open Burger King for Ben. Another negative hit for French services – people don’t pick up their dog shit so there are landmines EVERYWHERE. In the end, the drive back was unremarkable. We tried to chew up the miles when the weather was dry and sunny, and stopped every 1.5-2h or so to stretch legs and let the dog pee. We made it over the Jura pass while it was still daylight, which was the reason we left so early, and crossed the French/Swiss border around 3pm. We were back “home”. Shortly after, we caught the first glimpse of the lake and a big weight lifted off my shoulders. It felt that my anxious thoughts were the only thing holding everything together. The A1 welcomed us home with a traffic accident between Morges Est and Morges Ouest exits, but we made it home.
And then the dog barfed on the carpet.
We were home.
Because of our travel schedule, we had our NY day meal on NY eve.
Even Byron had a portion, which he was very happy to carry around the house and the garden.
There aren’t any ham croissants at this meat library, but the chonk is discorevibg a hankering for Gregg’s sausage rolls.
Merry Christmas to all.
Byron enjoyed the gift unwrapping – his and ours. He also enjoyed his own portion of Christmas dinner.
So grandad, after I peed on my usual tree, I went to the park to see Edgar Alan Crow, but I couldn’t catch him, cause mom wouldn’t let me run after him, and then I stole Nala’s ball, but I had to give it back, and then I was going to go into town to go see the lady at the meat library, and….
SQUIRREL!
MOM! MOM!! Did you see? There was a squirrel in the garden!!!
It’s ok, granddad, I protected you!
After a night of little sleep (the beds were comfy but the hamster wheel in my brain started turning at 4am), we got up at 6, loaded the car and left for the ferry terminal. Our ferry was scheduled for 940 so we’d have ample time to get sorted. Which is a good thing, because we needed it. We’re all a bit crunchy at this point (except the dog), but Ben is extra crunchy and reactive. Allowances are made.
We get to the ferry ticket office, get turned around, and realise that we need to check in and get our tickets at the gate we were just at. Go back, get sorted. Byron passes with flying colors. Go through French border security. Get mildly, but politely, told off for not showing our Swiss residency permits (which would explain why we have no entry stamps in our passports). Then we have to queue for UK passport control.
This is where 10 years of conservative government austerity measures and brexit shine. They’d booked us for the earlier ferry, which we should have been able to make, but passport control took forever so we missed that departure. We had to get to a specific boarding lane. Calais port is F’N HUGE. The French border agent jokingly told us that it was well signposted and that even the Belgians could figure it out. Apparently stressed-out Anglo-Swiss people rate lower than Belgians because we got lost for a bit and Katy was at the edge of a full-blown panic attack (happy birthday!).
After a bit of turning around, we found the right lane and just waited until someone came and dealt with us, as promised. In the interim, Byron explored the port and left them a gift, which was properly dealt with because I’m a responsible dog owner.
So now Byron is chilling in the car, hopefully will have a nap while we cross, Katy and I have coffee and Ben is trying out black pudding for the first time as part of a nice-looking but overpriced full Irish breakfast.
The weather is fairly windy and the ferry rise is a bit choppy but not overly nautical.
The boat is swaying just enough to make it interesting to walk a straight line, but we’re nowhere near Deadliest Catch territory.
We’re on the motorway at the moment and the roads are starting to get busier. According to BBC Radio 2, today is the start of the holiday travel season when millions of people want to get from A to B. It is recommended to not be on the road between noon and 4pm. 🤷🏻♂️
Satnav says 2h to Leicester.
Also, the state of UK highways is shocking. These are definitely not Swiss standard, and they even make the French nationals look good.
Millions of people across the country are making their Christmas getaway on one of the busiest days for travel of the year.
There are long queues at the Port of Dover after a surge in demand for ferries caused by Thursday’s Eurotunnel strike action in France. Domestic train services in parts of the UK have also been disrupted.
The RAC has advised drivers to travel after 18:00 GMT to avoid long queues on the roads. The organisation has said Friday will be the busiest day of the festive season as those heading away will share the roads with commuters and those on the school run picking up children.
Some 13.5 million leisure journeys are predicted to take place between Friday and Sunday – a 20% increase on the three days before Christmas Day last year – with 21 million trips overall.
You have arrived at your destination.
Christmas plans this year involve us – all of us, including Bubba – to go to England. The easiest and cost-effective way we found to do this was to drive from Morges to Calais, spend the night there, then take the Eurotunnel shuttle from Calais to Folkestone the following morning and drive to Leicester. In total, it’s a 1000km+ journey.
We left at 7:30 this morning for the 750km leg to Calais. Byron was not impressed at the early start but he was a super good boy along the way. We averaged a stop every hour or so to stretch legs and let him out to pee.
The rest of the time he was either sleeping with his head on my leg or alternating between sitting looking at me or sitting snuggled next to me. We made it to Calais at around 16:30. It was a long drive…..
I was really relieved to have made it, because I had a lot of anxiety about Bad Things Happening. None of which materialized.
Then I get a text from Gino, while we’re in the hotel parking lot, telling us he hopes we’re taking the ferry tomorrow because the French just went on a no-notice strike at 11 this morning and all tunnel activity is suspended until further notice and nobody knows how long it’ll take to get resolved.
Fuck.
Unions called the strike at 11:00 GMT. Under French union law they can run the strike for as long as they like, and there is no indication at the moment how long it will go on for.
The tunnel operator is not covered by a 2007 French law that makes a 48-hour strike notice compulsory for transport operators, which is why the walkout took everyone by surprise.
Staff were offered discretionary bonus of a €1,000 (£867) bonus, but the unions’ request is for three times that much.
Of all the things I was fretting about, this was not one of them. We only expected to be in Calais overnight so only had one night booked. This could turn ugly quickly. Thankfully, I could reserve a (different) room for tomorrow night and cancel it if we didn’t need it.
In the meantime, Byron, Katy and Ben were getting comfy in the room – which is quite nice. It’s a dog friendly hotel.
While we were waiting for our dinner booking, we weighed our options. Our shuttle tickets were refundable, so erring on the side of actually making it to the UK tomorrow, we cancelled the train and booked a ferry crossing. Hopefully that goes well tomorrow, but that is a worry for another day.
Being dog-friendly, Byron could come to the hotel restaurant with us. He was very well-behaved, especially considering that there were at least 4 other dogs there – two of which were uber barky.
While we had dinner, surrounded by other people and their dogs, we started chatting with a nice older couple from Strasbourg who were in the same predicament as we were, but they informed us that the strike had already been resolved. Murphy’s law says that this is because we cancelled our booking and made alternate plans, because has we not done so, the strike would have lasted forever. I firmly believe that the universe hates me.
So now Byron is snoring, Ben is watching Netflix on his laptop and Katy and I are going to try and get some sleep. It’s going to be another early start and another set of anxieties to deal with.
We’re not in Leicester yet, but hopefully by early afternoon we will be.
Pray for Omarion.
Byron is showing off his new (if a bit snug) Christmas jumper.