With our hotel just 10 minutes away from the Eurotunnel terminal at Coquelles, we had no rush to catch our 11:20 shuttle back to the UK. After checking-in at the automatic machine and passing the French border by waving our passports vaguely in the direction of the officer, we were selected for additional security screening. This involved Amber and the kids getting out of the car before I moved forward into a special compound with a type of rolling road that once I was also out of the car, pushed the car through a massive x-ray machine. I can only assume endless dirty washing was deemed to be of little risk as once I'd driven out of the compound and we were all back in the car, we were allowed on our way. We then just had the formality of passing the British border with a very friendly member of the Border Force team who was considerably more thorough than her French counterpart, before joining our queue to board the shuttle.
We booked our ferry and return journey at a similar time and for the ferry there was a requirement to select a category for the height and length of our car. With the S-Max being quite long, it was in one of the longest options. Height wise it's not much taller than a more traditional car. For the Eurotunnel you only need to specify height, whether under or over 1.85m. When booking I accidentally read this as length instead of height, so selected the over 1.85m option. This meant that instead of being with all the other cars, we were in the higher-roof single deck part of the shuttle surrounded by coaches, camper vans and those with roofboxes, fortunately no one seemed to question my stupidity!
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| Boarding the Eurotunnel train. |
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| Inside our high compartment. |
When we first spoke with Forrest about the Eurotunnel he had a picture of a glass tunnel like a Sealife Centre where we could see deep into the North Sea. Even once we explained this wasn't the case he was still fascinated by the fact the train went under the sea but after the excitement of entering the tunnel wore off he just wanted to know how long we'd be in the tunnel and whether he was allowed another rice cake. Within minutes of arriving in Folkestone we were off the shuttle and heading towards London on the M20. After a few miles we appeared to be entering some roadworks, but after a few more miles of no workman I realised it was the section of the motorway that has been prepared for a post-Brexit 'Operation Brock' to park up all the lorries due to delays at customs.
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| British grub! |
After over three weeks on the road we decided it would break the journey back to High Wycombe by stopping for a Sunday lunch and some much needed vegetables. We had found a potential pub online in West Malling near Maidstone, however it didn't look great from outside and it was also next to a local festival, so we backtracked to a large pub we'd seen minutes earlier. The food wasn't brilliant, but it was good to have carrots, broccoli, peas and of course a giant Yorkshire pudding!
We now just had the final slog round the M25 and a short hop on the M40 to reach home. And for the first time in over 3,800km (2,350 miles) of driving, other than a small holdup near Hamburg, we had some big delays as we crawled along the notorious section between the M3 and Heathrow Airport. Once on the M40 the road was clear and just after 3:30pm we made it back home.
It's not far short of 4-weeks since we left for Lowestoft at the start of the trip and whilst it's good to be home and having our own space beyond a hotel room again, we look back at a really successful trip. There were tears and tantrums along the way, but we'd have the same with two kids the age of ours if we'd been at home the full time. It's unlikely that Paloma will have any real memories of the trip, but for Forrest we hope it's something he will look back on as a fun few weeks on the road.
For me it's back to work tomorrow and Amber will also be busy with both kids and a mountain of washing to work through! Thank you to everyone who has been following our progress across Europe.
Blogged by Matt.
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