It was September 2025 when we left Folkestone via Eurotunnel. The idea was to drive through France to Italy and catch a ferry from the Adriatic port of Bari to Dures in Albania. The plan was maybe to visit North Macedonia, Bulgaria and then a ferry across the Black Sea to Georgia.
Eurotunnel, as always, impressed us with its slick operation and the humour of the staff. As our truck drew up to the check-in kiosk, a member of staff commented that we looked like we’d come to empty the bins. Next question was always, “Got any ‘orses in there?” To which Tony’s response would be, “No, just the wife.” It was hilarious the first time he said it!
We spent our first couple of nights at Le Crotoy, a seaside town on the shores of the Baie de Somme, the sun shone and the seafood was delicious. But then, as we drove south, the weather turned wet and stormy (warm and sunny in the UK).
Camp sites traditionally closed at the end of September and their “end of term” attitude translated to us as offhand (rude). France was certainly not extending her charms to us Brits. We were travelling away from major urban areas and so we were relying on out of town eating places – but the only food that seemed to be on offer was the ubiquitous pizza – not the delicious fresh wood-fired pizzas, but the frozen ones you got in supermarkets. After 1,200 miles travelling on French roads, we had not had one decent restaurant meal.
