Sam arrived back from Magaluf safe and sound. Eventually. Had a bit of a 'Planes Trains and Automobiles' adventure courtesy of Ryanair.
I did warn her. I mean I'm as tight as the next Yorkshireman, but even i can see there's something not quite right with a company flying you to Europe for 20 quid. Something's just got to give. Not that her flight cost 20 quid mind. Far from it, which makes the whole experience even more regrettable.
Anyway she arrived back from Stansted long after midnight. Via a train down to London, a short hop on the underground, a train up to Leeds then finally a train to York. National Express had their part to play in all this too so they didn't get off scot free either.
She's finally converted though and swears she'll never fly with 'those jokers' again.
We finished packing about 4am then hit the road bright and early the next morning. That's if you can call 11am bright and early.
Down to Calais, half hour crossing under the channel then 6 quids worth of uber fast péage landed us in a little place called Cambrai. You'd never find the campsite without prior knowledge. There's one sign for it about 50 yards away but without satnav we'd never have stumbled across it.
It's a great little municipal. Spotlessly clean, cheap, friendly, free hot showers, massive soft pitches and there's only about 20 of them so it's nice and quiet. At least it was until the bloody cockeral started at 5am this morning. And the church bells at 9am.
Supermarket had closed by time we arrived but found a great little grocery store that had ice cold beers and chilled wine. I returned from the booze run to find Sam had pitched a tent and put the kettle on. Never once saw that kind of action from Catherine. It continued the next morning when i woke up to be greated with a hot cuppa and croissants.
Watch and learn sis, you big slacker...
360 miles
No comments:
Post a Comment