By Marilyn Allen
So,... on Friday morning I neatly packed my case and started my journey to Lille for the long Bank Holiday weekend. I was terribly excited about my trip, as I had given myself permission to be spontaneous by booking a wonderful little Hotel for the weekend, determined not to spend another rainy day in London.
I should have known it was a mistake when I got to the ferry and was told I had gotten the time for boarding wrong. I thought I was on the 1.50pm, it turned out the next was 12.50 and the one after that was at 3.30. I was just in time for the former. Thinking I had a lucky escape, I checked in and headed for the duty free shop.
Approaching Calais, I started feeling a really rather stern breeze but was determined to remain positive. The looming clouds did not help disperse my fear that the sun was eluding me. "Thou shall not panic" I kept repeating to myself. An hour and a half's drive later of what I thought was excellent navigation, I arrived at the hotel. It had two medium sized restaurants next to it, The Buffalo Grill was the closest. Hmm, the hotel had been advertised as having two excellent restaurants. "No restaurants Mme, they are short walk" the rather dashing receptionist said with his (to die for) accent. Hmm, I thought, next door? I saw a little glimpse of the sun so was willing to forgive anything.
After unpacking, I put on my walking boots with the view to having a little stroll around. Not possible. The rain had started. I thought I would give it a few minutes and try again. No joy. So I turned on the TV. Interesting film selection but I did not drive all the way to Lille to be stuck indoors watching films. The odd thing was, I have been known to travel long haul just to sit by the pool and read all day but, this time I wanted to walk so brought very little reading material. I abandoned the idea of walking when it became apparent that it was going to rain all evening. I had to eat somehow so made it through the rain to the Grill.
A wonderful waiter, very well groomed (I felt scruffy in my unpolished boots) brought me a glass of wine instead of the sparkling water I had ordered. I forgave him, but halfway through my meal, I discovered that my meat was not as well cooked as I had requested. Instead of complaining again, I paid the bill and left, only to be given a right pasting by the rain during the 'short' walk to the hotel.
An English band was playing at the University of Science and Technology so I thought I would escape the flirty women on French TV adverts and indulge in some local culture. Every band over run their slot, and the last-but-one band decided to set up at the entrance of the gig to continue playing whilst the last band were supposed to be playing to the audience. Very very odd behaviour I thought, almost infantile, though it confirmed that I had made a mistake and the whole spontaneous trip was turning out to be a disaster. Just to round off a terrible day, the sat nav could not find the hotel and at one in the morning, it was pretty hairy going up one way streets etc to find my bed for the night. The die was cast! I decided I could not face another disastrous day, especially when friends got in touch to say the weather at home was not as bad as it was in Lille.
With my very groomed tail between my legs, I packed my bags and headed for Calais to catch the next ferry home.
I could not get the joke when the French Immigration Officer asked if my photo (in the passport) was of my sister (I cut off all my hair so looked different). She requested that I close my mouth so I could look like the photo at least. I made a mental note to change my photo which will cost me near enough £90 but worth it in case I lose my sense of humour again during my travels.
I had to pay about £50 to change my ferry ticket, but was pleased to leave the rain behind! One and a half hours later, I was ever so pleased to see Dover but first, the choppy sea meant that the anchor for the ferry was dropped to stabilise the vessel (that was what other passengers said). The ferry was shuddering and making the most frightening noise, I begun to question if we would make it to the port successfully.
Anyway, it was a relief when I got on dry land and in the comfort of my own home (rain or not). Maybe I gave up too easily but all I wanted was to have a good weekend with some sunshine. It was not that warm when I eventually made it to Crouch End but at least it was not raining!
...So, the moral is... the grass is always greener on the other side. Home sweet home!
All photos by Marilyn Allen
