Leaving Dover

drying my sails in the backyard up in Tynemouth. a nice bath after getting seriously salty down at the Olympic sailing center in Weymouth.

I made great time down the whole of England, with the exception of the last 20 miles that I spent in bumper to bumper re-routing due to impressive amounts of roadworks. One of the perks of painfully crawling around in first gear was that the detour took all us holiday-makers and professional drivers by Dover Castle. It is a wel-known fact that CASTLES ARE COOL!

Thus far, these white cliffs prove to always “liven” my commute to the continent. This time a glitch in the computer has registered my trailer as part of the reservation (on which there are 2 boats and 12 masts). As usual, French customs stamps you through without lifting their gaze in your direction. I think they assume that no one would ever want to immigrate to France unless they were French – culture outmoding the necessity of border patrol.

At the ticket gate, I am waved aside to check with the ticket agency just there, and see a guy named “Rich”. I pull up and park on the far edge of the lot and as I’m scuttling to the office one 18 wheeler rams into the back of another. Shouts erupt. In the office I explain the trailer situation etc as Rich clacks away on the keyboard, “ah yes! you’re the boat-lady!”

Yes, that would be me. I told him if I got stuck one more time getting through I was going to be very suspicious, I think you just want to see me. The office had a laugh.

Allons-y! It was a clear day and the wind was perfect. You could see France from the onset and I thought, why am I not sailing to France? Instead I’m on a boat, in a car, towing boats – at which point I thought how much I’d like to place a toy car on my boat. Which is of course easier than putting the ferry on the back of a truck.

buon appetito!

rosemary and crushed chili with bit of s and p and olive oil on sweet potatos and cubed onions. mushed up bits of bacon fat, coriander, garam masala, cumin, lime pickle, bit of lemon juice and whole grain mustard and filled under chicken skin. shoved all the leftovers, lemon rind inside chicken. placed on top of bed of potatos, draped bacon strips over the chicken...

yum!

i drank it with a purple grape juice and sparkling water cocktail which i proceeded to kick all over the white carpet and then spent 2 hours scrubbing and soaking and throwing every wives' tale concoction i could think of onto the floor mixed with plenty of "oh LIZZI!'s" and "oh please work!'s"

salsacita, la vida oscura

everything is more profound when set to the Avatar soundtrack.

it feels like i've triumphed over terribly trying trials!

when really i've just had a wee and am leaving the lorry park, back to the open road...

more sights and sounds from the road

Most of the time when I'm driving around, I'm gasping at the amazing, novel scenery.

LOOK AT ALL THE MUUUUUSTAAAAAARD!

por ejemplo.

this on the other hand is more of the "usual view"...

complicated in the alps when I was flipping out and trying to video waterfalls for pierre.

one of the best views in all of france!

apparently I am greatly revered and loved by the french!

so much so that someone is making money off of the merchandise of this love!

or maybe it's La Rochelle.

nous faisons d'escalade!

Somehow between the mayhem of regatta this and regatta that, my very dear friends from Cavalaire-sur-Mer snuck off for a day of rock-climbing just East of St. Tropez.

Céline et moi from the French Navy weather station. Her friend works at this lighthouse atop the hill and let us in for a tour. His daily post is up a 2-story spiral staircase with a 360 degree view. Quelle vue! He was the "markboat" man at the 29er regatta over Easter weekend.

Made it to the top!

rockshot, waiting for fellow climber to come get camera...

not a bad place to hang out for a while.

driving en france!

I spend many long hours in the car, a sola salsacita. which I enjoy very much, I play games like "omnipresent narrator of the ever-popular adventure/fantasy novel that is my life". sometimes I simply combust with "I'M DRIVING THROUGH FRANCE!!!" or Milan, or Munich, or Vienna or through the Alps and there are waterfalls everywhere! And sometimes I think of people I love and talk to them, maybe out loud! and for the in between I have the dreamgirls soundtrack and garrison kieler to keep me company.

i thought the tail lights on this truck looked like little lobsters!

all freeways should have sprightly young boys leaping over mushrooms!

my friends later told me that these sculptures announced a "rest stop" with a children's playground. I saw one later down the road that had a series of large turtle sculptures.

(PJ! a new project for you??)

driving down the UK until...

i'm the little truckicita in the middle! rolling up for a break between the k's...

driving was all good, making great time, arrived in Dover just in time for the last ferry! and wha-BAM! no fuel. No worries! quick stop, car goes chug-a-lug... get through the border, in line for the ferry. Then my turn to turn on and go and - RRRR-RRR-RRR! No sparks. The ferry leaves, and we are abandoned amidst the expanse of concrete. Oh right, that might have been PETROL not Diesel!! Of course my cell phone is out of batteries, naturally. Run to the pay phone to call roadside assistance. "How will we find you?" "Well, I'm all alone in the middle of a huge empty parking lot and I have a trailer full of boats..." The tow-man arrived at 2300 hrs and towed me off to get drained at the local car dealership which was 45 mins away.

This dragon guarded me while I waited for the mechanic to siphon the engine.

All's well, some Great British Pounds exchanged hands, and I was off back to the ferry station. All the while having been "stamped" for entering France. I returned to the ferry parking lot at 0230 and waited for the next ferry at 0800.

it was a cold night at Dover no.7, I had to keep waking up and turning the engine on to keep warm about every 40 minutes...