Arrival... Dover





Click the photos to see the right size.

The endless sea, 
water and sky merging in utter tranquility.




Passing a Super Ice tanker.
It's too far away to see it's name.





This one is a colleague of the one we're at.




The sea isn't completely calm.
At times it hits a wave and we're trying to make a photo at the perfect moment.



Yes!!!





I walked through the corridor,
humming 'The white cliffs of Dover'.
A steward smiled and said 'nice song' when passing me.
A few minutes later the whole ship could hear the song.
Coincidence?






It's a pity the weather isn't great.
Rain and mist try to hide the cliffs.



We can see the castle!





A moment of brightness brings  people to the windows.




I'm getting excited!
In a short while we'll be there, between the chaos at the feet of the cliffs.



Weather, reflections in the window... who cares?












Just a few hours and we'll be there!






What was almost invisible can be seen clearly now.




















And there we are......

.

Finally to England




Click the photos to see the right version.

We left at 5.00 hours in the morning. It was dark, some stretches even without lights, but the light of our car.
We had to go though a part of The Netherlands, straight through Belgium, to France.
Rain, drizzled, hit the car like acorns in fall.
And when finally the morning arrived, we drove through the last part to the terminal of the boat in Duinkerke.




Not a nice photo, but a memory of the terminal where it was warm. The coffee was nice, and apart from two other people we were the only travellers.


That's our boat, arriving...




And when the boat was visible, the sun was too.




Our turn to board.






Soon we'll be there.


Rusty and dirty escape boat.


Men working to free us from the ropes that still tie us to the main land.








Leaving...












View from the restaurant.




More grey clouds and rain, and reflection of the window.
















The cliffs of Dover in the rain and mist.


.

Home again?





Home again....that's how it felt... home again.
Back in London for a few hours.

A decision to go was made a few days before.
I thought it was just a joke, but it was true.

We tried to find a place to sleep, a place to park, and that was it.
I packed a bag, which meant I took a large bag and had almost nothing in it, decided not to bother about anything, and just go.

I didn't have the time for proper preparations, just got the address and phone number of a friend, in case we would have the time to visit her, and that was it.
We went there with a tight schedule of the check in for the boat, and the event in London, nothing more.

We, my para-son and I. And when the room we could get was for three, we asked who had the time to go with us, so my dance daughter jumped in. (With far less luggage than she carries with her on a daily basis. LOL!) Such a pity her twin sister needed to be at her job.

We left in the middle of the night.
I couldn't sleep at all.
Just left like I was going away for some shopping....

But I was going back... after 50 years.... going back.
Would I have the same feelings about the place?
I hate Rotterdam, I'm OK with Amsterdam, feel a stranger in Paris.
Would I feel at home again in London?

I went there with dad. Roamed the streets for hours on end. Visiting lots.
We even stood in line for the Crown Jewels (but not long) and I had some very strange experiences of knowing my way around the old neighbourhoods outside the center without ever being there, and we didn't have Google Street then.

But first we had to get there.
In the old dodgy car...
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