The two young men in the bar/coffee lounge of the 11.20 ferry from Dover to Calais were clearly quite drunk and intent on getting very, very drunk.
By the time we’d made our way up there from the car deck, they had each secured a bottle of wine and a pint of lager. I suspect a pint may have been necked already.
They sounded like Geordies but it was hard to tell; there was a lot of “effing” and they clearly were not happy drunks. The beer kept coming and the volume and the swearing/aggression rose in sync. I thought there might be an altercation, there was a long, angry call on a mobile to a woman and then a debate about what a slag she was, followed by another round of drinks. I thought they might be soldiers because they looked fairly fit and had short hair, but who knows.
On the way down to the car deck in Calais, Sam remarked that he hoped they weren’t driving - good grief, that would be scary!
Driving overnight had seemed like a good idea. Last year, we set off early in the morning from London and reached Villaret sur la Rosiere at about 6.30pm. The traffic from Albertville, through Moutiers and into Bourg had been absolutely awful - a 30-mile stop/start crawl that put us way behind schedule and meant we didn’t reach our accommodation until after dark. It was tricky finding the place and we couldn’t get any shopping done or get our ski passes.
This year, we thought we’d arrive not long after breakfast and the early part of the journey went well. Sam took the first shift and I tried to snooze, but couldn’t relax (I was worried that Sam might fall asleep) and when it was my turn to drive, I was shattered and Sam couldn’t relax for fear that I might fall asleep. I did a fairly short turn at the wheel and then Sam took over again, with me doing the last leg.
We were doing great until we hit major traffic between Lyon and Chambery. There seemed no reason for the delay, we were on a dual-carriageway and the traffic was not unduly heavy, then we just hit the end of a tailback and that’s how it was all the way to Albertville.
We found out later that it was Paris holiday week (as well as other parts of France). I was fearing that we might have another long crawl up through Moutiers to Bourg, but almost as quickly as the traffic had jammed, it freed itself and we were on the move again. We’d lost a couple of hours, but as least the run into Bourg was smooth and this time we knew where we were going.
The car performed quite well. There was enough room, although not loads spare and the ski rack on the roof worked well. It did spoil the fuel economy somewhat though, we managed around 35mpg.
So we got to our destination a little later than planned, but still had all afternoon to allow us to go to the supermarket, get our ski passes and take my skis into the repair shop by the funicular. I’d bought secondhand skis and was expecting a similar lecture to the one Sam got last year. It was a bit of a disappointment. He told me they were not very good, the edges were gone and they were in a bit of a state, but he did set them up, filled them, waxed them and sharpened the edges for €35. I was ready for skiing tomorrow.
By the time we’d made our way up there from the car deck, they had each secured a bottle of wine and a pint of lager. I suspect a pint may have been necked already.
They sounded like Geordies but it was hard to tell; there was a lot of “effing” and they clearly were not happy drunks. The beer kept coming and the volume and the swearing/aggression rose in sync. I thought there might be an altercation, there was a long, angry call on a mobile to a woman and then a debate about what a slag she was, followed by another round of drinks. I thought they might be soldiers because they looked fairly fit and had short hair, but who knows.
On the way down to the car deck in Calais, Sam remarked that he hoped they weren’t driving - good grief, that would be scary!
Driving overnight had seemed like a good idea. Last year, we set off early in the morning from London and reached Villaret sur la Rosiere at about 6.30pm. The traffic from Albertville, through Moutiers and into Bourg had been absolutely awful - a 30-mile stop/start crawl that put us way behind schedule and meant we didn’t reach our accommodation until after dark. It was tricky finding the place and we couldn’t get any shopping done or get our ski passes.
This year, we thought we’d arrive not long after breakfast and the early part of the journey went well. Sam took the first shift and I tried to snooze, but couldn’t relax (I was worried that Sam might fall asleep) and when it was my turn to drive, I was shattered and Sam couldn’t relax for fear that I might fall asleep. I did a fairly short turn at the wheel and then Sam took over again, with me doing the last leg.
We were doing great until we hit major traffic between Lyon and Chambery. There seemed no reason for the delay, we were on a dual-carriageway and the traffic was not unduly heavy, then we just hit the end of a tailback and that’s how it was all the way to Albertville.
We found out later that it was Paris holiday week (as well as other parts of France). I was fearing that we might have another long crawl up through Moutiers to Bourg, but almost as quickly as the traffic had jammed, it freed itself and we were on the move again. We’d lost a couple of hours, but as least the run into Bourg was smooth and this time we knew where we were going.
The car performed quite well. There was enough room, although not loads spare and the ski rack on the roof worked well. It did spoil the fuel economy somewhat though, we managed around 35mpg.
So we got to our destination a little later than planned, but still had all afternoon to allow us to go to the supermarket, get our ski passes and take my skis into the repair shop by the funicular. I’d bought secondhand skis and was expecting a similar lecture to the one Sam got last year. It was a bit of a disappointment. He told me they were not very good, the edges were gone and they were in a bit of a state, but he did set them up, filled them, waxed them and sharpened the edges for €35. I was ready for skiing tomorrow.
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