Day 10

Thursday, July 20, we had our final breakfast at Hartpury College at 7:00 and got all our stuff loaded on the busses. We departed about 7:45 for Gatwick airport. The busses got tied up in the morning traffic and were moving very slowly. I don't think we reached the airport till about 11:30 or 11:45.

I was originally going to ride with Gordon on the Gatwick Express to London's Victoria Station to make my connection to London Charing Cross station, but it occurred to me that there might be a better way to get to the Dover Priory station from Gatwick. I rushed over to the train information booth and asked the helpful man at the ticket counter if there was a faster way to get to Dover than going to London. I was happy to learn that I could get a more direct route and use the credit for the ticket I already had.

I went to the train station at the airport and waited for the train to Tonbridge. While I was waiting, I saw Gordon enter the train to Victoria Station, which was right in front of me. I knocked on the window, but Gordon didn't see or hear me as the train left. My train to Tonbridge came along and I hopped aboard. The ticket man on the train informed me that at Tonbridge I would need to go over the bridge to my next train to Dover and to be sure to get on the last three cars because the train would split, with my cars going to Dover and the others going somewhere else. I must have done it right, because I made it to Dover. Southeast England seemed somewhat economically depressed compared to the vitality of the Heart of England, which is where we had been for the past week. Of course I saw the famous White Cliffs of Dover.

I waited at the train station for the free shuttle to the hoverport. It was a pretty long wait. I imagine about 45 minutes. Well, my 4:00pm reservation for the car pick up in Calais, France would be delayed. When I got to the hoverport, a hovercraft was just leaving. I bought my ticket for the next trip, which was in one hour. The hovercraft is neat, but loud. You skim across the seas on a bed of air and it can go much faster than a boat because there is virtually no resistance to the water.

I arrived in Calais about 6:00pm French time (I lost an hour.), and went through the very cursory so-called customs guard. Hey! They didn't even stamp my passport. I went to the AutoEurope (Eurocar) rental place and nobody was there. In fact nobody was at ANY of the car rental booths. I tried the weird French phone in the booth, but only got a dial tone. I finally went over to the Hovercraft desk and asked the man if he spoke English he said he spoke a little English. (That is what virtually all French people told me when I asked them if they spoke English during my trip.) The man called the Eurocar office in downtown Calais and told her of my plight. The man said there would be someone at the OTHER ferry port to give me my car. He called a taxi for me and about 30 minutes later the taxi driver arrived. I just realized I had no French money. The change desk was closed at the Hover Port and there were no ATM's around. I asked the taxi driver if he would take pounds or dollars, and he said he would. The short taxi ride cost me about 5 bucks.

I got to the Eurocar desk and guess what? Nobody was there. I asked the lady at the Budget counter next door and she indicated to me that I should wait. I did, and sure enough the Eurocar lady came and opened up her stall. After getting all my information, she told me that they didn't have the Renault Clio that I had requested, but instead had a Fiat Punto. I asked her if the Punto had four wheels. It took her a moment to catch the joke. Actually, I think the Punto was the next higher class than what I had ordered. It had a covered hatchback instead of an open one like the Clio had. I got it for the same price as the Clio, and the Punto only had about 500 km on the odometer.

I drove into downtown Calais. This looked like a very old city. I drove around town for a while and decided to find a hotel close to the autoroute I would be taking the next morning. The autoroute is the French equivalent of our interstate. They are mostly toll roads. I found the autoroute, but no hotel. I decided to just drive until I felt tired.

I was getting hungry about 11:00pm, so I pulled into a town (I can't remember for sure but I think it may have been Verdun) and went up to a hotel that had all it's lights flashing outside. Oops, nobody answered my ring on the office door. I thought I might have to sleep in the car that night. As I drove around looking for a hotel, I finally found a suburban bank with an ATM machine on the outside. At least now I had some French Francs. I had seen a McDonald's earlier, so I went over there and ordered a Big Mac and a Quarter Pounder with cheese and a large Coke. These were the best McDonald's burgers I have ever had. The Quarter pounder came with a packet of dijon mustard, which was great.

Fortified with some food, I drove on to Metz, France, which is 466 km (289 miles) from Calais. I exited the autoroute at a place where there would likely be a hotel. I saw one but it looked too expensive. Next door to the expensive hotel I spied a Campanile Hotel, which I knew, from my research for this trip, is the French equivalent of a La Quinta. I went up to the office, but it didn't look open. There was a curious thing on the side of the building, however. At first I thought it was an ATM machine. The thing on the wall was an automatic check in device. I punched in that I spoke English, followed the instructions and swiped my Visa card. My room key and receipt fell into the bottom of the machine like a candy bar. Voila! I had a room for the night. I finally got to sleep between 2:00 and 2:30.

End Day 10