The long road home

[Tuesday]  As I write, we await our ferry's departure from Dieppe, on our way back to England.  It looks to be less crowded than any of the crossings we've done this year, which is kind of welcome, after the eight-hour drive from Annie's.

But going back a few days, we had to cancel a dinner date and an invitation to apéros at our place, both because of my cold.  Great shame, since, respectively, we've hardly seen Sheila and Henry this year, and haven't seen Nathalie and family for a number of years.  Oh well, such are the risks of air travel.

I was feeling a bit better by Saturday, so we set off for Annie's as planned, pausing for sandwiches on the way, then a visit to the Ailes Anciennes museum (it was closed, but pretty much everything is visible through the perimeter fence.  Everything is a bit decrepit: a couple of crumbling MiG-21s, a Swiss Hawker Hunter and most of the French post-war squadron service jets.  The Caravelle at Ailes Anciennes is looking very sorry for itself, in stark contrast to the restored one at the rather fancier establishment across the road, where it shares an area with a Concorde and one of the A400 prototypes.   

Much of the time at Annie's, we were able to relax on the terrace, listening to the birds  and neighbouring farms, and watching the light changing.  We helped minimally with some of the gardening: the trees and shrubs need quite a bit of maintenance over the year.  

On Sunday we walked gently up through the woods near Aillas to meet the transhumance.  A flock of sheep is led, together with a few goats, from the High Pyrenees to their winter pastures in Aillas.  The transhumance takes a few weeks, calling at numerous towns and villages on the way for overnight pasture for sheep and shepherds alike.  By the time they get to Aillas, quite a few of the beasts are pretty lame, so one wonders whether it is the kindest form of husbandry.  

Yesterday we had a fridge leftovers lunch with Annie's friends Danielle and Pierre from the next village.  Fish cakes and wine from ours, pâté and cheese from Annie's, and salads from D&P's garden.  An ideal long, lazy, luscious lunch in excellent company.  

Today so far has been less entertaining, involving as it did eight hours' driving, including very slow progress round the rocade at Bordeaux.  I used to do this kind of journey single-handed.  I wouldn't try it now: indeed, I was very grateful to hand over to Martyn after my abbreviated post-prandial graveyard shift.  Apart from a gusting wind that reflected adversely on the fuel burn, the weather was pleasant all the way.

[Later]  The crossing was a little more lively than the last three, with quite a few white caps showing as we left Dieppe.  The ship was, as we'd hoped, far less crowded than on our last three crossings, though the catering was no better than its usual mediocre standard.  Martyn's fish and chips showed all the signs of bulk purchase from Iceland.  My chicken so-called tikka was nothing of the kind, served with parboiled rice, but quite tasty - and at least the serving was copious.

Unloading was again slow, but since the ship was less full, we were out a little over half an hour from docking, then through immigration and customs inside a further ten minutes.  All told, the journey from Annie's took close to sixteen hours.  We're rather hoping that the problems at the tunnel will soon be over.  Though it involves more driving both in the UK and in France, the time saved on the crossing, and the far slicker boarding and de-training processes make for a far less frustrating experience.

At one point, by the way, a driver in front of us on the A28 used the indicators before moving out of lane.  I almost fainted from the shock.