Whether or not we would make it had been hanging in the balance since the beginning. We knew we had to go, how and when were the details which were, at the time, irrelevant. The hour was rapidly approaching. Rental car turns into luxurious and fuel friendly mini bus. Bid farewell to the cramped quarters of the Euro eating wagon and slide into the future. The future inasmuch as theyve (Europe) had them for years and we (America) have shunned only to once again embrace the clean burning diesel.
An end to the days of bouncing around homebase is drawing near. Pack, repack, bid farewell to friends and lazily..almost to a fault, begin the push to Dunkerque France.
Arrive Dunkerque 12am after battling torrential downpour through most of Belgium. Nani at the helm navigates the storm like a fishing boat captain whose entire year is contingent upon making port. No hotels, revisit language barrier we keep meaning to tear down. Brief encounter at UK customs. One of us nearly detained and or sent back to from whence we came. We are on the ferry to England. 5 glorious days of English, of friends, the country, and the beach lie in wait.
Dover. Early am. Near terminal driving disaster narrowly avoided and a message from Zoe. We have a destination in London. Traffic is nearly as disgusting as NYC traffic...is actually twice as disgusting as NYC traffic. Sprawling enormous city, something which in all the years of travelling to and from, never quite grasped. Hello Zoe, lovely to see you again. Brief rest in the garden, get aquainted with Charlie and we are on to the next.
It was a few years ago when first contact with Nigel and Bertie had been made. Mildly horrifying with wit just short of genious. They are the greatest comedy never produced for film or TV.
Greetings new friends again. Phoenix singalong winding through the narrow streets of sleeping London. Afterhours reggae dance party. Our entourage are the only attendees.
Sleep at last.