"Changes in Latitude"

As the Jimmy Buffet sings: "Changes in Latitude... Changes in Attitude"! Greyrocks headed northwards, and it was a roller-coaster in terms of weather, stress and luck. Five days of travelling sandwiching an eight day stay in the usual Lattes location brought Greyrocks to Calais. whence we crossed to Dover for the eventful three weeks in UK. The time on the Med coast was one of the best and the next post documents it.

There were ten days between the offspring's departure from Fuerteventura and ours. We travelled down with her as far as Puerto and had a few hours strolling round. The plan to visit El Bounty was scuppered by the "brunch" we took soon after being dropped off! In Las Palmas we have been impressed by the chain "100 Montaditos" - and now there is a branch in the mall. Wednesday is specially good value there, and an order of  cheap "coffee and toast" brought forth two huge rolls, Iberian ham, concassed tomato and olive oil. We consumed half and took away the rest for a picnic. The weather was good and we walked along the seafront expecting to find a choice of two known watering holes, but one has closed permanently. As we sat in the other surveying the pedestrianisation works we were hailed by "Spectrum Ian" from Corralejo. There is no hiding place! Not much of note happened in the remaining days - as we cleared the decks, killed two obsolete laptops, scooted round significant places and tightly packed for a six months absence; although we did invite round Sandy and Pete to help with food disposal in a jolly and very sunny afternoon on the balcony, and spend the early part of the last evening at a quiz.

Friday the Thirteenth - not auspicious for a journey! The weather we left behind was not good. The forecast for Barcelona was much worse, but the flight arrangements all worked well - once we were through Security! We consider ourselves seasoned travellers and smugly watch various entrapments of the less-so. This was our "comeuppance". The laptop, two Kindles, the tablet, the liquids bags, watches etc went into the trays, Ruth declared the prosthetic knees and waltzed through to wait for Bob, and waited .. We had forgotten the old netbook destined for Chloë and jammed into his rucksack. Red faces and a lot of re-packing for Greyrocks!

Outside Barcelona airport we were very, very cold and unsuitably dressed,but it wasn't yet raining and the shuttle bus was mercifully prompt in arrival and empty. We were back again at the usual airport hotel. The receptionist looked sheepish as she handed over the key. It was the room furthest away in three dimensions, but it was comfortable and familiar in facilities. At dinner we were surrounded by participants in the Canoe Championships and qualifications for the Youth Olympics. There were team members from Estonia, Slovenia and Turkey. The quality of this buffet-based meal offer has been slowly deteriorating in quality over the years, and Ruth had an oxtail dish that was a disgrace. But hey - there are many worse options than this place for a simple overnight near the airport!

We were up early and decided to take breakfast. Some canoeists were there too and a vast crowd of Korean young women shouting very loudly at each other and into phones. We had to move tables. Grumpy Old Brits is Us!

Besides which it was raining, and didn't stop all day. Killing time at Terminal 1 was blighted by the absence of open catering outlets. We had noticed this the night before in respect of one cafeteria, but now realised the strike  (over workers' rights and changes in the concessions) was more extensive. In solidarity we occupied seats and didn't buy anything! The coach service to Girona was as efficient as ever, but through torrential rain; and we got wet meeting the pick-up for the parking lot. Yvette was shining and ready to go. We asked how business was and were told it was busy at the moment because of the French school holidays. This was the first we had thought of that significant factor! - but more of that later! Suffice to say that the three hour drive to Lattes on the Spanish A7/French A9 in stormy conditions wasn't enhanced by it!

The following Sunday the migration resumed. We have perfected the art of leaving a mobile home, and were waved off by the owner family as if we were the old grandparents. Dull and cold weather again, few HGVs (French law) but very heavy car traffic and heaving service stations! The dread was traversing Lyon on the A6, and Autoroute Radio updated us on  the length of the"bouchon"! We held our nerve, knew time wasn't an issue and survived to arrive smoothly mid-afternoon at the booked hotel in Chalon (in Burgundy)  where it was a little too windy to sit outside but still with a good temperature, as the day had seen the cloud clearing. We would have two evenings where the hotels were on industrial estates with few alternatives for dinner, but Greyrocks has a fondness for the ubiquitous Campanile model and did very well on both occasions. (This time with two lamb dishes as mains). We ended the day feeling that it had been demanding but that careful planning had minimised the stress and we could relax and enjoy! Eschewing breakfast we drove over to the supermarket nearby, made the purchases necessary and found ourselves trapped! There seemed no way out that didn't have a height restrictor. We tried all sorts of possibilities and wasted time, diesel and karma. We still don't know how we went wrong.

School holiday arrangements.

We thought that day's driving would be less frantic, but the schools in Zone C (including Paris) were only halfway through their time off, so service stations were still full of families and private cars were racing on the autoroute. Nonetheless we made it to Reims and a bottle of champagne in good time, but al fresco consumption was out of the question! The cold we were expecting had arrived!
Back on the autoroute next day we suddenly were greeted by Yvette's occasional party trick:- loss of power and warnings of engine failure. What to do? We knew what this was all about but needed a Fiat dealer to sort it out. As we struggled along the autoroute we ran through options, and eventually decided to stop in St Quentin and get it fixed. The staff were wonderfully helpful and Ruth's French was given a thorough workout! Amongst the advice was what she translated as "Giving it some Wellie!" to keep the filter clear. Not easy to do at Greyrocks' age!

We arrived in the Calais are much later than expected owing to this incident, but still had time for lunch at one of the Cité Europe brasseries and shopping for wine. The Kyriad where we spent the night is not great, but we wanted somewhere with a restaurant. The restaurant no longer exists, but next door is a branch of the chain Poivre Rouge. We were happy that and walked there through the rain. Midway through a decent meal in came a group of gendarmes - and then some more, and more..until there were well over a hundred - some armed, some in mufti and all tucking in! Later we learned that they were staying in a neighbouring chain hotel and spend a month at a time thus as part of the Calais port security (and alleged violence!) The details came from the partner of the receptionist at our hotel, who is a long distance coach driver, and told us more about the situation. Good to know our UK taxes are well-spent!!