France 2010, Boulogne Sur Mer

We were all relieved to find that it wasn’t raining and it looked as though Camille’s welcome forecast was completely accurate because the weather this morning was in complete contrast to yesterday, the sun was already shining and the sky was a blank blue canvas.

We followed the early morning routine that we had already established, went to see the ducks and the hens, visited Camille and saw the rabbit and walked a while through the village before returning to the cottage for our usual farm house breakfast, part English, part continental but every day a perfect combination. On account of the good weather we did some washing and hung it on the line before we finally left the cottage and set off for Boulogne about twenty-five kilometres away.

Being mean and naturally reluctant to pay the motorway toll we took the cross country route again and much to the girl’s annoyance made a small detour to visit the wind turbines high on a hill and with good views all around and then we carried on and made good progress until we reached the southern outskirts of the town. We were aiming for the north so it would have been much more convenient to use the motorway because the route through the town was congested and confusing and when we reached the car park we were aiming for there was no room anyway so we had to drive a kilometre or so out of town to find somewhere to park.

Actually, we were so far out of town that we were within sight of the La Colonne de la Grande Armée, which is a column that was erected in the 1840s and is a fifty-three metre-high monument topped with a statue of Napoleon Bonaparte. (Higher than Nelson’s column in Trafalgar Square which is slightly shorter at forty-six metres high). It marks the base camp where Napoleon massed France’s biggest ever army of eighty thousand men ready to invade England. It was initially intended to commemorate a successful invasion of England, but this proved to be a bit premature and as he didn’t quite manage that it now commemorates instead the first distribution of the Imperial Légion d’honneur. Originally, when it was first completed, the statue had looked out over the Channel towards England, the land Napoleon had confidently expected to conquer but after the Second World War, the French government turned the statue of Napoleon round to face inland, as a mark of respect to the British allies in the war.

We strolled casually down the hill into the town past the Nausicaa Aquarium, one of the largest in France, on the sea front and walked along the port and this was a surprise because Boulogne, it turns out, is the biggest fishing port in France and there is a large fishing fleet including deep-sea trawlers and factory ships, as well as smaller sea-going and inshore fishing boats. A third of France’s fresh fish catch is landed here, and a huge quay-side fish processing factory makes 20% of the nation’s tinned fish, and half of the frozen fish, fish fingers and other fish based ready meals.

The girls wanted to shop but this wasn’t in our plans so we left them to it and continued on up a steep hill to visit the historic centre. Boulogne old town is built within the original Roman walls and has recently been well restored and it was in complete contrast to the concrete and glass of the sea front and the shopping streets. Here was the beating heart of a medieval city with a castle, a cathedral and narrow streets lined with charming properties, little shops, cafés and bars. In the middle was a public space with imaginative public art based on giant vegetable sculptures called ‘Le Jardin de Gulliver’ which was probably something only the French could do so well.

We hadn’t allowed a lot of time for this and we could have done with longer but it was very hot now so after a beer and a baguette at a pavement café (where I had to discreetly tackle an especially obnoxious nappy) we walked along the main street full of interesting shops and busy restaurants and under the walls of the huge cathedral which was rebuilt in the nineteenth century as a symbol of the revival of the French Catholic Church after the Revolution in which the old cathedral and so many other churches were closed and destroyed. We didn’t go inside but even from the street we could appreciate the size of the massive dome which is one of the biggest in Europe.

We left the old town by a gate next to the Castle Museum and I am forever amazed at the bits of trivia that I pick up on my travels because who would have guessed that inside is the most important exhibition of masks from Alaska in the whole world? Why isn’t the most important exhibition of masks from Alaska in Alaska? We didn’t go inside because we weren’t sure that Molly would appreciate it so we left and walked through the gardens beneath the walls and back to the agreed rendezvous point with the girls where they were waiting for us after completing their shopping.

We had enjoyed the old town and Sally and Rachel their shopping but now it was time to leave. Richard and I walked back up the hill to the cars while the others stayed on the white sandy beach in front of the aquarium. It is a nice beach but is only temporary because every winter storms strip the sand away and then every summer the city council imports several hundred tonnes from further up the coast to make sure that Boulogne has a beach to enjoy at least for a few months.

There was a confusing route out of the town but by a combination of judgment and good luck we managed to find the correct road out and once we had cleared the scruffy outskirts we were soon back in the open countryside and motoring south back towards the rural tranquility of our holiday village.

Back in the garden Molly played in her paddling pool and I had a couple of beers while Richard and the girls went to the supermarket for a few supplies that we were running short of (especially tomatoes). This had been another excellent day and I had enjoyed the return trip to Boulogne which had so surprised me last year as a town well worth a visit but one so very easily missed. Best of all, our weather forecasting neighbour promised us another sunny day tomorrow.

We didn’t do anything different in the evening of course, Molly stayed up for as long as she possibly could before finally giving in and then Richard prepared the barbeque and cooked a similar meal to every other night. It would have been nice to go out for a meal but we all remembered last years expensive disaster when Molly wouldn’t sit still and it cost us nearly €100 for a meal we didn’t really enjoy so it was much easier to stay at the cottage, cook for ourselves and enjoy a few beers.

As the evening drew to an end I had the inevitable accident with the log fire. Poking around in the embers a piece of red hot charcoal fell onto the ground and as I took evasive action I lost control of the red hot poker and struck Richard in the back of the leg and in the process leaving him with a brand that he was stuck with for the rest of the holiday. I went to bed soon after that before I could do any more damage.

France 2010, SeaFrance and Carrefour

In August 2009 we travelled to Northern France and stayed in a farm cottage just outside of Boulogne and we had such a good time that we agreed to repeat the adventure in 2010. It was perfect really because we had little Molly, my granddaughter, with us and with Sally, my daughter, being such a notoriously untidy packer it was convenient just to take the car and fill it up with overflowing bags of clothes (many of which would never be worn) carrier bags full of last minute thoughts and all of the other items of necessity when travelling with a two year old.

Not quite all of the items that we were going to need however because Sally forgot the pushchair and a bag of essentials including all of Molly’s socks and shoes. Before we could leave therefore the first thing we had to do was go shopping for a cheap replacement stroller and some new footwear.

Mindful of the delays and road works that we had run into the previous year we set off early on Saturday morning giving ourselves plenty of time to get to the south coast. Everything went without a hitch and we sailed down the A1, the A14 and the M11 and even the M25 was flowing freely when we joined it. We crossed the Queen Elizabeth Bridge and passed through the toll booths and I breathed a sigh of relief and confident of being in Dover well ahead of schedule we made contact with Richard, who was travelling independently, to organise a rendezvous. I was relaxed now and easily distracted and somehow at just about this time I missed the turn for Dover and carried on obliviously around the M25.

It took about fifteen minutes to realise something was wrong because there were no signs for Dover any more and we were clearly travelling in a westerly direction when we should have been going east. And I didn’t have a road map either so decided the best thing was to stick on the M25 until the next junction and then turn around. At the first opportunity I was so annoyed with myself that although I got off I became confused by the size of the roundabout (Lincolnshire roundabouts are so much smaller) and got straight back on again still travelling west! I didn’t realise that there were so few junctions on the south east section of the motorway and we travelled for thirty miles or so, well past the sign for Gatwick, until we were able to turn around and park the car in the right direction.

This inevitably put the carefully scheduled itinerary into free fall and having lost almost fifty minutes as a result of the detour the planned rendezvous and spot of leisurely lunch had to be abandoned. The Sea France crossing was scheduled for half past twelve and we arrived with forty minutes to spare and joined the lines of cars, coaches and lorries all waiting for the ferry. Everything was much busier than last year with far more traffic. We had booked our return crossing for only £65 in January but when we checked later it was over £200 and by the week before our journey there was no more availability. Perhaps more people were using their cars this year as a result of the ash cloud problems earlier in the year but there didn’t seem to be any real explanation.

The port was busy and the ferry was half an hour late so we didn’t get on board until after one o’clock and made our way to the passenger decks. It was naturally busier on board as well and we struggled to find a seat and it took over twenty minutes to queue up and buy a couple of beers. Luckily our cars were at the front of the ship so after we docked after a swift crossing on a calm sea the ferry doors opened and we were amongst the first away as we by-passed the town of Calais and under a chalky sky started to head south-west following signs towards Boulogne.

We couldn’t go directly there of course because we had an important stop to make at the Cité d’Europe and a visit to Carrefour to stock up on essential items like beer and wine and a bit of food as well of course. Rachel had been looking forward to this part of the holiday for some time and was almost beside herself when I suggested missing it out and going to a smaller supermarket along the way instead but she cheered up when I was overruled by the rest of the team. Rachel especially wanted to go to Cité d’Europe because she wanted to visit all of the exclusive clothes shops that you just don’t find in the United Kingdom, places like New Look, H&M and Top Shop and she went off with Sally for girly shopping while the rest of us were left with responsibility for alcohol and bread.

Carrefour was unusually busy as well and to be honest I found the whole visit a bit of a chore so I was glad when it was over and we were back on the road for the final forty kilometres of the journey towards our destination of the small village of Longvilliers just outside the posh resort town of Le Touquet Paris Plage.

France - Day 7, Boulogne Revisited

The morning started just like all the others. Molly woke early and I entertained her until the others joined us for breakfast. This morning we had a choking incident because of her habit of putting everything in her mouth and then a messy nappy incident which I swear she found amusing because she waited me to change her once before immediately filling the replacement. I noticed this on holiday that she is beginning to play games with us now and finding amusement in being a tease. At the beginning of the week she would put gravel in her mouth just because she didn’t know better but by the end of the week she was doing it to torment us because she knew that she shouldn’t.

Richard was the first up after me and we needed some bread and croissants so we drove to Boulonge stopping on the way to visit La Colonne de la Grande Armée, which is conveniently situated next door to Carrefour. The column was erected in the 1840s and is a fifty-three metre-high monument topped with a statue of Napoleon Bonaparte. (Nelson’s column in Trafalgar Square is shorter at forty-six metres high). It marks the base camp where Napoleon massed France's biggest ever army of eighty thousand men ready to invade England. It was initially intended to commemorate a successful invasion of England, but this proved to be a bit premature and as he didn’t quite manage that it now commemorates instead the first distribution of the Imperial Légion d'honneur. Originally, when it was first completed, the statue had looked out over the Channel towards England, the land Napoleon had confidently expected to conquer but after the Second World War, the French government turned the statue of Napoleon round to face inland, as a mark of respect to the British allies in the war.

After a very slow start to the day we sat in the garden and watched the weather improving gradually as the grey cloud gave way to white and then eventually to blue sky but it was still windy and Richard was still complaining when we packed the car to make a return visit to Boulogne.

The girls wanted to visit the Nausicaa Aquarium on the sea front but Richard and I wanted to return to the old town to see the bits that we had missed on the earlier first visit. After we had left them at the entrance we walked along the port and this was another surprise because Boulogne, it turns out, is the biggest fishing port in France and there is a large fishing fleet including deep-sea trawlers and factory ships, as well as smaller sea-going and inshore fishing boats. A third of France's fresh fish catch is landed here, and a huge quay-side fish processing factory makes 20% of the nation's tinned fish, and half of the frozen fish, fish fingers and other fish-based ready meals.

The sun was shining and down at the coast the wind had curiously dropped so it was warm as we walked past the main shopping street and back up the hill towards the medieval castle. This time we walked for a while outside of the walls and then we went inside and with more time available today explored some of the back streets and alleyways. This was our last day and my last opportunity for my favourite moules et frites because although I had had them the previous evening this had been a bit of a rushed affair. Today we found a pavement café on the Rue de Lille where a Frenchman was playing accordion to entertain the diners and I finally achieved my objective of enjoying a pot of steaming molluscs.

After lunch we strolled around a while longer, outside the huge Cathedral, which was rebuilt in the nineteenth century as a symbol of the revival of the French Catholic Church after the Revolution in which the old cathedral and so many other churches were closed and destroyed. We didn’t go inside but even from the street we could appreciate the size of the massive dome, which is one of the biggest in Europe. At the other end of the old town was the town hall where there was free entry to the Belfry Tower that included a guided tour and history of the building, which was helpfully given in English as well as French. There was a long climb with a couple of stops for informative narrative and there were good views from the top of the tower and we were lucky to be part of quite a small group of visitors because we had time and space to enjoy the rooftop vista.

The girls had enjoyed the aquarium and were waiting for us on the white sandy beach when we returned slightly late to meet them. Every winter storms strip the sand away and then every summer the city council imports several hundred tonnes from further up the coast to make sure that Boulogne has a beach to enjoy at least for a few months.

On the way home we showed the girls La Colonne de la Grande Armée but they didn’t seem impressed and certainly not excited enough to get out of the car so we returned directly to Maninghen-Henne and sat in the garden and braved the gusty winds which were much stronger here inland. Later Molly used the paddling pool in the shower and we had our final evening meal in France before we started to think about and organise ourselves for the journey back to the United Kingdom the next day. At nine o’clock we did the bottle bank and village walk routine and we were getting much better at this now because Molly was asleep within ten minutes and straight to bed when we got back to the cottage.

As it was the last night there were bottles to finish off and we stayed up later than usual and sat and chatted and reminisced about a thoroughly enjoyable holiday in France with our daughters. No golf of course but we had had a good time all the same!

Up early in the morning I was able to reflect on the holiday and it occurred to me that this had been a week for some relearning points when it comes to looking after a baby and being with Molly especially at these times in the morning when we were alone together gave me the opportunity to think about these. Here are my top three: Firstly when going on holiday with baby take plenty of changes of clothes – for yourself! several of my shirts were destroyed by the end of the week; secondly remember that baby will always take a dump at the most inconvenient time such as just getting on the ferry, at lunch time in a restaurant or most frustratingly thirty seconds after a previous change; thirdly, there is a world of difference between putting baby to sleep and getting baby to sleep – I had completely forgotten that one!

During the night a crawly insect had disturbed Rachel but Richard had dismissed this as imagination and told her to back to sleep. He was forced to reassess his judgment and apologise next morning when he came across a spider that was al least four inches from the end of one of its legs to another. I wouldn’t have wanted to sleep with it that’s for sure and Richard wouldn’t tackle it this morning without back-up!

We had a final breakfast of bread and croissants and used up as much of the food as we could and then we packed and tidied and then settled our account with the young man who had greeted us a week ago and suddenly at eleven o’clock it was time to leave so we said goodbye to the cottage that had been our home for the past week.

We drove to the Cite d’Europe via a service station for fuel where there was a curious incident when both our cars failed to register that fuel had been put into the tank and Richard suspected a scam and it took some unexplainable time to put itself right and I can think of no logical reason why. At the hypermarket we did some last minute cheap booze shopping and then drove to Calais to wait for our ferry which was slightly delayed but crossed the channel in completely calm conditions that allowed us to enjoy a outside top deck crossing and watch as France slipped away and the white cliffs of Dover welcomed us back to England.

France - Day 6, Bruges

At seven o’clock there was blue sky and sunshine but it had turned cooler with a stiff breeze from the sea blowing across the fields and into the garden of the gîte. I had my early two hours with Molly and after another breakfast full of carbohydrates we watched from the living room as the clouds thickened and prevented us using the garden and then as a few spots of rain started to fall.

We were driving to neighbouring Belgium today to visit the town of Bruges in the north of the country and by the time we had packed the car and set off there were big spots of rain falling on the windscreen. This didn’t last long and it was one of those days when there were different weather conditions in all directions and it was a bit of a lottery about what we were likely to get. It was about a hundred kilometres to drive and on the way we passed through a variety of different weather fronts so we were unsure of what to expect when we arrived.

We needn’t have worried because as we parked the car the sun came out and the skies turned a settled shade of blue and without a map we let instinct guide us down cobbled streets towards the city centre. I had visited Bruges before in 1981 so I thought I knew what I was looking for but over the years I must have got mixed up because the place looked nothing like I remembered it. I knew that we were looking for a large square and I had in mind something something classical like St Marks in Venice so I was surprised when we reached the famous market square to find nothing like that at all.

Bruges is the capital and largest city of the province of West Flanders in the Flemish Region of Belgium. In the middle ages, thanks to the wool trade, it was one of the most important cities in Europe and the historic city centre is an important UNESCO World Heritage site because most of its medieval architecture is intact. The Church of Our Lady has a hundred and twenty metre high brick spire making it one of the world's highest brick towers. The sculpture Madonna and Child, which can be seen in the transept, is believed to be Michelangelo's only sculpture to have left Italy within his lifetime and the most famous landmark is its thirteenth century belfry, housing a municipal carillon comprising forty eight bells where the city still employs a full-time carillonneur, who gives free concerts on a regular basis. The city is also famous for its picturesque waterways and along with other canal based northern cities, such as Amsterdam in the Netherlands; it is sometimes referred to as "The Venice of the North".

We really needed more time to appreciate all of this but the price to be paid for convenient close to the centre parking was that we were restricted to just two hours. Even though I didn’t remember it quite like this the city square was delightful, fully pedestrianised except for the odd horse and carriage and surrounded by bars and cafés all around the perimeter. We liked the look of the Bruges Tavern which had tables surrounded by pretty flowers and a vacant table with a good view of the square. The official language in this part of Belgium is Flemish, which is similar to Dutch and the man who came to take our order identified immediately that we were English and spoke to us in that lilting sing-song voice that Dutch and Belgian people have when they speak English. He made us feel welcome and we enjoyed a glass of beer sitting in the sunshine.

The girls wanted to shop again so whilst they went off in the direction of the main shopping street we finished our drinks and then took a leisurely walk around the square overlooked by brightly painted houses with Dutch style gables and facades and then disappeared down the warren of quiet side streets that had something interesting to stop for around every corner. Making our way back to the car we stopped in another, more modern, large square for a second drink where the service was slow and there was an amusing exchange between a flustered waitress and an impatient diner. ‘Alright, alright, the food is coming’ the waitress snapped when she was asked a third time when it would be served. Our beer took a long time to come as well but we thought it best not to complain.

As we left Bruges to drive back towards Boulogne the sun disappeared underneath a blanket of cloud and we drove through intermittent showers along a road cluttered with heavy trucks all making their way to and from the Channel ports. This was not an especially interesting journey through a flat featureless landscape and although we had taken our passports with us there wasn’t even any real indication that that we had passed from Belgium back to France except for a small EU sign that could be easily missed. Past Calais the weather improved and by the time we returned to the gîte the sun was out again but it was still quite windy. Richard complained about this several times but it was really not so bad and it didn’t stop us sitting in the garden.

It was a bit too cool for the paddling pool in the garden so Richard put it in the bottom of the shower instead and Molly was able to have her bath and get ready with the rest of us to go out for an evening meal in Boulogne. We drove to the City and parked in the old town and then looked for a restaurant on the colourful Rue de Lille where pretty table cloths were flapping in the wind at empty outside tables. It was really too cool to sit outside so we found a place we liked the look of and went inside. This was a big mistake because Molly was in a playful mood which meant it was difficult to keep the table top in any sort of good dining order. It was a nice restaurant but with unusual toilet arrangements that required any female using the ladies to walk past the men using the urinal. Whilst the French consider this quite normal this is bound to make the average Englishman hurry up and leave with a wet patch down their trousers. Eventually as Molly got tired she went from playful to irritable, which made matters worse so we ended up rushing the end of our meal and then taking a walk along the breezy streets as she dozed in her pushchair.

On the short drive home she finally went to sleep so went straight to bed and Sally joined her. Rachel stayed up with us as we did more damage to the alcohol supplies but we had to sit inside tonight because I was forced to agree with Richard that it was too cold to sit in the garden.

France - Day 5, Boulogne-Sur-Mer

Ack, ack, ack, ack, ack, ack, ack was the early morning signal for me to drag myself out of bed and spring into Molly minding mode just about three hours before the appearance of anyone else. In that time I changed her, fed her, played with her and watched her chasing the cat that came by every morning to say hello.

Today was the best morning weather so far and there was a brilliant blue sky and a golden yellow sun and after breakfast and by mid morning the temperature was already up to 28º so we spent an hour or so in the garden before packing up and setting off to visit nearby Boulogne-sur-Mer.

I didn’t have high expectations of Boulogne because I imagined it to be a place of little interest where people arrive by ferry and drive through very quickly without stopping on their way to more interesting places. From the garden of the gîte we could see a large Cathedral and a tall military column and so as we were so close it seemed only good manners to go and have a look. On the approach to the city through shabby pot holed streets there was little to make me review my original perception and when we parked the car and walked into town I didn’t really expect this to be a very long visit at all. There was a scruffy street market where items for sale were displayed in the style of Sally’s untidy bedroom and a featureless walk towards the main shopping street.

The French quite rightly prefer visitors to have a go now and again at speaking the language and I am reasonably fluent in everyday essentials such as: ‘Vin blanc sil vous plait’, ‘Vin rouge sil vous plait’, ‘bier grande sil vous plait’, ‘bier grande vite’ and so on, but beyond that I struggle unless I prepare ahead. We needed some postage stamps so I rehearsed over and again ‘quatre poste sil vous plait’ and by the time we found a shop was practically word perfect. The problem with this of course is that having impressed with the opening sentence then the shop assistant replies immediately in impenetrable French and the only two options are to nod vigorously and hope you are making the appropriate response or just stand there flapping and looking a complete twat! I did a combination of the two and it must have worked because I got the stamps and they were the correct ones for postcards to England.

The girls wanted to shop so we left them to it and we went off to see if there was anything more interesting. Some postcards in the stamp shop showed some surprisingly nice views of Boulogne so we set out for the Cathedral and the old town to try and discover the best part of the city. At the top of the steep hill there was a medieval city wall and a gate leading inside and suddenly Boulogne took me by surprise because inside was something I was not expecting at all.

Boulogne's Old Town is built within the original Roman walls and has recently been well restored and it was in complete contrast to the concrete and glass of the sea front and the shopping streets. Here was the beating heart of a medieval city with a castle, one of the biggest Cathedrals in Europe and narrow streets lined with charming properties, little shops, cafés and bars. In the middle was a public space with imaginative public art based on bits of old motor vehicles and scrap parts which was probably only the French could do this well. We hadn’t allowed a lot of time for this and we could have done with longer but it was very hot now so after a beer at a pavement café we left the old city to reunite with the shoppers at the agreed rendezvous point with an agreement to return before the week was out.

We left Boulogne and went directly to the beach which was much busier today and with the tide right in there was less space available. We found a spot in the dunes with some shade for Molly and we settled down and opened the cool bag for the beers that Richard had thoughtfully brought along. Molly slept for a while and after she woke she played in the sand and we took her to the sea but she was unsure of the waves so we didn’t stop long which was a good thing because the water temperature was several degrees below comfortable. We spent a couple of hours at the beach but then the cool bag supplies dried up so we left and returned to the cottage.
It was 34º now and very hot in the garden as we sat and watched Molly play in the paddling pool. The wind that had been a feature of the weather all week was gone and it was so hot that we had to use the garden umbrella for shade for the first time. In the early evening Richard and I took Molly to Carrefour for food shopping and later we had an evening meal of pizza and cold pasta and experimented with various French cheeses. The hot weather had brought out the flies that were a bit of a nuisance but Rachel discovered a talent she didn’t know she had for killing them with a sharp shooting flip flop trick which accounted for over a dozen.

At nine o’clock Richard and I were called into action once more to take Molly on the village walk to try and persuade her to sleep so we set off via the bottle bank to drop off the last two days empty bottles and then took the route the sensible way past the big loud dog first so that she wouldn’t be woken up on the return journey if we had been lucky enough to be successful. Once again it took a while and she was distracted by a couple of times by the grazing cattle but she couldn’t last out for the entire circuit and she was fast asleep by the time we returned home.

It was a glorious evening now with the remains of a blood red sunset disappearing over the horizon and without any sort of breeze at all we ended the day sitting in the garden with beer and wine and finished as usual by a couple of gin and tonics.

France - Day 4, Montreuil-Sur-Mer

There was not much of a chance of a lie in because Molly was up early and attracting attention with her persistent and annoying little machine gun cry (ack, ack, ack, ack, ack, ack, ack) which means she is ready to get up so I dragged myself out of bed and took over from Sally so that she could have a lie in and a rest. Three hours later everyone else was still asleep so Molly and I went for a drive to Carrefour in Boulogne for something to do and to get the breakfast provisions and by the time we returned there were finally some belated signs of life and the others were beginning to crawl out from their bedrooms.

It was a lovely day and after a very late breakfast we sat in the garden and enjoyed the warm sunshine, the peace and quiet and the lovely view. But we couldn’t just sit around all day so after Molly had woken from her mid morning nap we decided to drive to the town and beach of Le Touquet a few kilometres further down the coast. This was a good idea but everyone else in France seemed to have decided to visit the place today as well so after we /had crawled through heavy traffic for some time and were still a long way from the centre we decided that this was not such a good idea after all and turned around and headed for the inland town of Montreuil instead. The pretty little town of Montreuil, which was one of the settings for the book ‘Les Misérables’ by Victor Hugo is officially called Montreuil-sur-Mer but this now seems rather inappropriate as the sea is now some considerable distance away from the town as it has retreated a few kilometres to the west.

We parked in the large attractive town square and went for a long walk around the walls and battlements that surround the town. The weather was warm and we enjoyed good views across the surrounding countryside. The walk returned us to the centre of the classic French market town and we walked through its attractive streets with its lively fountains and vibrant floral displays, its shops, restaurants and cafés and we finished back in the town square right next to a convenient bar where we had a drink before moving on.

We all enjoyed the walk but the girls were anxious to get to a beach so we returned to the car and set a course back to the big beach at Wimereux. On the way back I fell out several times with the lady in the Satnav who seemed a bit confused by the French road system and we ended up on the slow road back behind a succession of Sunday afternoon drivers. On reflection I am sure it was my fault really.

It was a lovely day now and we reached the beach at about half past three. Molly went for a paddle and a splash and she enjoyed playing in the sand after we had found a perfect little spot to park ourselves in the grassy dunes where we stayed for a couple of hours and Richard went to sleep. We thought about walking to Ambleteuse again but I for one was pleased when we decided against it because personally I had done more than enough walking already today following the ten hour slog around Disney yesterday.

On the way back to the village we visited Carrefour because the girls had offered to cook tonight and they needed to purchase the ingredients for their surprise meal. So it was a night off for us (until washing up time of course) so we went straight to the garden and opened the beers and sat in the early evening sun and supervised Molly in her paddling pool and entertained the cat.

Finally dinner was ready and when we called to the table we could see that during preparation the girls had lost their sense of portion control and had produced a pasta meal for about thirty people. I don’t think that there were that many people in the village so we ate as much as we could and then put the rest away in the fridge confident that it would easily last for the rest of the week. As I thought we were left to clean up the mess that was left behind while the girls swapped places with us in the garden.

It was now nearly nine o’clock and Molly was putting up a stubborn resistance towards going to sleep so finally Richard and I got the pushchair and took her for a forty-five minute walk through the village to see if that would do the trick. It worked but it wasn’t easy and it was only in the final section of the walk that she finally gave in and closed her eyes for the last time today. When we returned home Sally was pleased about that because she was tired too and the pair went straight to bed followed soon after by Rachel, which left just the two of us to stay up for a little longer and finish off the first emergency bottle of gin before going to bed shortly before midnight.

France - Day 3, Disneyland Paris

Molly had a disturbed nights sleep and so did Sally so I took over at six o’clock and after a bit of a grizzle and a struggle got her back off to sleep for another couple of hours. During that time I did some chores, drank more tea than I really needed and waited for the others to wake up and join me. They started to drift in at about eight and after a quick breakfast and hasty preparation we were on the road for nine. Early start? I don’t think so!

When we had suggested a visit to Disneyland we hadn’t really appreciated just how far it was and it was a shock when the Satnav told us that it was about three hundred kilometres and a two and a half hour journey but there was no going back now because the girls were too excited about the visit to let them down.

To begin with it was a nice easy run along an almost deserted A16 toll road and all we had to worry about was the weather because there was another disappointing start to the day with thick white clouds that blocked out the sun. We passed the Cathedral city of Amiens and made optimistic estimates of our journey time for the benefit of the girls just like we used to when they were much younger and they found travelling tedious. Eventually we reached the outskirts of Paris and as we swung east towards our destination the traffic increased and driving became more difficult as we began to encounter impatient Parisian motorists who were less inclined to make allowances for foreign drivers and we suddenly had to be more aware and keep our wits about us.

Disneyland Paris is the tenth most visited attraction in the World and the third in Europe after The Louvre and Trafalgar Square but despite this it is quite difficult to find. I suspect that the French have not yet fully overcome their objection to the cultural shock of finding a bit of America in its precious back yard and there is a distinct lack of road signs to help. Every little children’s playground appears on the direction boards even if it only has a couple of swings and a slide but signs for Disneyland are few and far between and some of those had been deliberately dismantled or interfered with just to make life difficult.

The French have always been reluctant hosts for Disneyland and when it was first built in the 1990’s there were objections that it threatened French culture and the whole Gallic way of life that spilled over into full scale demonstrations against its construction. The Disney Corporation got their way of course but even now nearly twenty years later there seems to be lingering bitterness and resentment.

We arrived at the Park after three hours, parked the car and walked to the entrance at which point I panicked myself into uncertainty about whether I had left the car lights on so ran back just to check – I hadn’t of course! We paid the admission charge of 62€ each for entry into two parks which I thought was a bit optimistic but went along with it anyway and then joined thousands of other visitors as we went through the gates and into Main Street, USA.

It was very crowded and for the first half an hour or so we wandered rather aimlessly through the attractions. It was getting hot, Molly was getting overheated and agitated, everyone was hungry but the food queues were long and slow to move and I began to wonder if we had made a mistake. We tried a couple of places but with patience tanks showing empty abandoned them both before finally sticking it out and waiting for an overpriced burger meal in a cowboy themed restaurant. Then thinks began to pick up, after a rather messy nappy incident Molly settled down and we started to think straight and make plans and agreed to leave Magic Kingdom and return later that afternoon and in the meantime visit MGM Studios next door.

MGM is smaller than Magic Kingdom but it was a lot less busy and far more comfortable. Molly slept for a while now and we eventually got to go on some rides, first the Tower of Terror, then the Rock ‘n’ Roller, which was a bit too fast for me, and then the Backstage Studio Tour where even Molly joined us. Then we returned to the Magic Kingdom with fast track tickets to ride the Big Thunder Mountain but it was temporarily broken down so rather than stay in a queue that was getting longer by the second we went instead to find some rides where Molly could join us. We went on the Pirates of the Caribbean where she devised her own entertainment in the queue by constantly moving from one to the other of us in a teasing and playful manner. Then we did the Small World ride twice (because Richard enjoyed it so much) finally got onto Big Thunder Mountain, the girls did a bit of last minute shopping and suddenly it was nearly ten o’clock and time to think about going home.

It was dark now of course so as it is supposed to be the law I thought it sensible to fit the headlamp beam deflectors. I wasn’t really sure how they should be applied so I just stuck them randomly onto the lens and hoped that they would work. This did interfere with the effectiveness of the lights but what made driving especially difficult was that that I didn’t have my night driving glasses and had to set off in sun glasses instead. This combined to make the journey a bit dark and a bit difficult and after two thirds distance I had to give in to extreme tiredness and let Richard take over the driving duties.

We didn’t arrive home until about one in the morning which made it a very long day but this didn’t stop us from finishing with our customary last thing gin and tonic and we sat for a while and reflected on the day. I enjoyed Disneyland Paris but having been to the real thing in the USA I have to say that my final assessment is that there is something missing. It doesn’t have the soul of Disney and feels like a very good theme park rather than the real Disney experience. It is expensive, the staff are slow and lack enthusiasm for the place and the real disappointment is that the characters are not wandering about so regularly as they are in America where they appear around nearly every corner but here they were restricted to special areas and then only for very short appearances.

It had been a good day so tomorrow we thought that we might take it a bit easy!