Since Chan was feeling better by Thursday, we decided to take a day trip to France. We got the train in Dartford to Dover and then the ferry to Calaise which in total took three hours to complete. It was a beautiful clear day and it was great weather for crossing the channel. What surprised me was how well equipped the ferry was and it was not at all what I had envisioned. I thought we would be huddled in some glass covered boat with the waves edging up to the rails and a lone captain, with a pipe in the corner of his mouth, navigating recklessly towards the French coast. Nope, this ferry was a cruise ship, for goodness sake. Book stores, perfume shops, Costa coffee, restaurants serving curry, a couple of bars, and even a games room for the kids. With the crossing taking just over an hour and three quarters, it was easy to find ways to pass the time.
We did spend some time up on the deck and Rick and Chan spotted several jellyfish popping up and then back down again near the wash from our boat. Chan was pretty thrilled to see these creatures and it reminded me of when I was a girl and I lived in British Columbia. We used to go down to the docks and see what the fishermen had pulled out of their nets. Quite often jellyfish would get caught in the mix with crabs, seaweed, and other unwanted fish and they would be left on the docks. Not sure what ever happened to these outcasts but as kids we loved to poke at these wacky marine invertebrates.
As we approached the coast of France, we noticed this expansive beach that in the summer would probably be a blast to lounge on, walk along, and just hang out. Suddenly, though, I remembered that we were in France and I asked Rick if this may have been one of the beaches that had been stormed during war times. Rick said that it was Normandy and he wasn’t sure about Calaise but it still felt a little eerie as we quietly chugged into the port as the beach was desolate.
Once in the town of Calaise, we walked the streets reading the French signs (and trying out our language skills with shop keepers and bar tenders), drooling as we passed bakery windows, and were basically on a mission to find the best place to pick up some cheap wines. We found a local grocery store and that is when our excitement could no longer be contained. Holy crap, wine for 1 Euro 95! I am sure the locals shudder when nutty tourists like us show up. I just loved to see Chan imitating Rick and me grabbing for this and that on the shelves and cooing about the prices. “I’ll take one of those and one of these and yes, how about that too?” his arms extended and retracted like some kind of assembly line machine. Okay, so maybe we were a little over zealous about the wine selection but when do you get the chance to come to France and shop like that?
Aside from the wine, we did take Channing to a German bunker (sorry to say but it smelt musty and damp) and he was quite fascinated by the collection of guns, newspaper clippings, uniforms, and other memorabilia. I, however, was kind of creeped out by the manikins adorned in former military wear. I swear to god they were looking right at us and when we left the room, they would carry on a polishing their guns, smoking their cigarettes, or relaying a message through their cells phones the size of a shoe box inside of their glass cabinets.
The bunker was set in a lovely park which had an exhibition of at least fifty aerial photos taken around the world. We strolled through the park, taking in the massive pictures that were at least 4 x 6 feet and propped up on stands and lights overhead for viewing at night. I gasped when I came across one that was a shot of the brilliant fall colours in Quebec. It was so nice to see Canada recognized for its beauty amongst so many other fascinating places in the world.
We also stopped for a few minutes to watch a group of five men playing a game of Bocce ball and I took a couple of photos and said that our friend, David Serafino, would have loved to see this.
Since France was one hour ahead of us, we miscalculated our return trip and missed the ferry back to Dover. We had to wait an hour and a half for the next one so by the time we got back to Dartford it was just past midnight and no buses were running. When we tried to hail a taxi, we couldn’t get one to stop and this meant that we had to walk home (uphill most of the way) loaded with our purchase of 12 bottles of wine and a 3 litre cask of Riesling. We were pretty pooped by the time we got in the door. Next trip we are going to take a rolling suitcase and make sure that we watch the clocks for the time!
