shewhomust | Holiday report: setting off

It wasn't until the last minute that we decided which ferry crossing to use. The initial plan was to travel to France and back over one of the very short crossings (Dover/Calais, Dover/Boulogne, one of those) and we made ourselves a list and looked at prices and convenience of timings and couldn't decide, and it wasn't until we got to the stage of booking that we realised there was no price advantage in going both ways on the same service (i.e. the return fare was a straight double the single fare). At which point we did one of those classic decision-making leaps, and booked outbound Tyne Dock/Amsterdam and back Dunkerque/Dover. Which is why our holiday began on a Wednesday, sailing down the Tyne in the late afternoon, the sun coming and going behind clouds, and us running to and fro across the observation deck at the stern: "Look, there's the Customs House, look, here, the Fish Quay, those are the Black Middens we're sailing well clear of..."

Disembarked in Holland in the rain and paused at a service station where I had to be forcibly dragged away from the liquorice display: here's the web site, which conveys some of the abundance of weird and wonderful options, though I can't find the selection I bought ("Salmiak & Mint"), which kept me happy through the long drive south.

As the rain stopped and the sky cleared, we drove on through Holland and into Belgium, the border marked by a display of pumpkins and garden statuary (including, I'd swear, the Winged Victory of Samothrace). Wépion is the Belgian strawberry capital: it has a strawberry museum, but we didn't have time to stop.

We followed the Meuse down into France, the broad river glinting along beside us all the way, between green hills and dramatic pinnacle of grey rock. I hadn't realised that Belgium had such scenery, nor that this corner of northern France was so full of charm.

Finally, from that first day, a picture for

desperance from the B & B where we didn't stay (they wouldn't answer their door). The light on the number plate means you can't quite see that the registration number really is BAZ. (Click the picture to see it larger).