Paul, the driver telephoned on Thursday evening.
"Good evening, this is your driver for tomorrow making a courtesy call."
"Good evening. You're due to pick me up at 10am: is that right?"
"Perfectly correct sir. May I just confirm your address?"
This was done with the sneaking suspicion that this was the nub of the courtesy call - facilitating the courtesy of arriving at the correct house in the morning.
"No problem sir - I will be there at 10am. Good ni......."
"Hold on, please, the house is a little difficult to find."
"No problem sir, I have a satnav."
"All well and good, I don't have a road."
"Ah."
"What vehicle will you be coming in?"
"A Mercedes E class. Why?"
"The size of the vehicle might affect your approach to the house but that won't be a problem in an E- class. If you follow your sat nav's instructions and then park by the post box I'll come out and find you."
"I'm sure I'll find you. I can always call you if I get stuck."
"Ah, what network are you on?"
"O2."
"You won't call me."
"Don't tell me - no signal. Where is this place Stelling Minnis? In the 18th century?"
"Very good, see you in the morning."
It was a long night and even longer morning, one of the pitfalls of waking at 4:30. Washed, brushed and dressed it was possible to pack the last remaining items and then wait.
At 9:45 a large silver Mercedes drove slowly but deliberately past the post box and disappeared along the road. Walking down to the road and its tail lights were just visible in the drizzle. Eventually it stopped and, after a further pause, reversed into a track where it remained for a few minutes. It came back along the road and pulled up.
"Paul?"
"No, Chris."
"Ah, are you looking for Nick Onslow?"
"Homeleigh."
"Yes."
Conversation was clearly not his strong suit, speaking of which he was dressed in a suit which would have been fashionable if worn by Edward Heath. It gave him the look of a rather down on his luck gangster. The hope was that his driving was better than his dress sense and his communication skills. The cases were loaded and one of the six leather seats selected and the adventure began.
For a large vehicle the Mercedes reached 90 with ease as Six Mile Garage flashed by in a blur.
"It will take us at least a couple of hours at this rate but we should be able to make up time on the motorway."
How right he was. Within the first five miles on the M20 we had caught up with a speeding ambulance, blue lights flashing as it headed towards Ashford. Leaving that in our wake we proceeded to terrorise white vans on the way to Maidstone. The presence of speed cameras was a huge relief until it became clear that they were but a minor deterrent, the car accelerating after each and then braking just before the next.
Quite how Chris managed to manoeuvre from the outside lane, across two busy lanes and then just squeeze onto the M26 is a mystery which several shocked motorists probably pondered once they had stopped shaking.
Some miles further on and the M25 brought a wonderful 50mph speed restriction: never had road cones looked so good. For the first time in nearly an hour a car overtook the Mercedes. Inevitably the cones disappeared and with them the sanctuary of the 50 mph limit.
"Good evening. You're due to pick me up at 10am: is that right?"
"Perfectly correct sir. May I just confirm your address?"
This was done with the sneaking suspicion that this was the nub of the courtesy call - facilitating the courtesy of arriving at the correct house in the morning.
"No problem sir - I will be there at 10am. Good ni......."
"Hold on, please, the house is a little difficult to find."
"No problem sir, I have a satnav."
"All well and good, I don't have a road."
"Ah."
"What vehicle will you be coming in?"
"A Mercedes E class. Why?"
"The size of the vehicle might affect your approach to the house but that won't be a problem in an E- class. If you follow your sat nav's instructions and then park by the post box I'll come out and find you."
"I'm sure I'll find you. I can always call you if I get stuck."
"Ah, what network are you on?"
"O2."
"You won't call me."
"Don't tell me - no signal. Where is this place Stelling Minnis? In the 18th century?"
"Very good, see you in the morning."
It was a long night and even longer morning, one of the pitfalls of waking at 4:30. Washed, brushed and dressed it was possible to pack the last remaining items and then wait.
At 9:45 a large silver Mercedes drove slowly but deliberately past the post box and disappeared along the road. Walking down to the road and its tail lights were just visible in the drizzle. Eventually it stopped and, after a further pause, reversed into a track where it remained for a few minutes. It came back along the road and pulled up.
"Paul?"
"No, Chris."
"Ah, are you looking for Nick Onslow?"
"Homeleigh."
"Yes."
Conversation was clearly not his strong suit, speaking of which he was dressed in a suit which would have been fashionable if worn by Edward Heath. It gave him the look of a rather down on his luck gangster. The hope was that his driving was better than his dress sense and his communication skills. The cases were loaded and one of the six leather seats selected and the adventure began.
For a large vehicle the Mercedes reached 90 with ease as Six Mile Garage flashed by in a blur.
"It will take us at least a couple of hours at this rate but we should be able to make up time on the motorway."
How right he was. Within the first five miles on the M20 we had caught up with a speeding ambulance, blue lights flashing as it headed towards Ashford. Leaving that in our wake we proceeded to terrorise white vans on the way to Maidstone. The presence of speed cameras was a huge relief until it became clear that they were but a minor deterrent, the car accelerating after each and then braking just before the next.
Quite how Chris managed to manoeuvre from the outside lane, across two busy lanes and then just squeeze onto the M26 is a mystery which several shocked motorists probably pondered once they had stopped shaking.
Some miles further on and the M25 brought a wonderful 50mph speed restriction: never had road cones looked so good. For the first time in nearly an hour a car overtook the Mercedes. Inevitably the cones disappeared and with them the sanctuary of the 50 mph limit.
The Google Maps route had estimated 2hours and 35 minutes and the first glimpse of the ship
Boudicca came after 1 hour and 55 minutes. It seemed that some time had been made up on the
motorway!
–
Check-in was straightforward and a first opportunity to view the other adventurers. In waiting areas time stands still or, at least passes at a different rate than elsewhere on the planet. Some sat staring at newspapers while others sipped coffee substitute from unhelpful cardboard Costa cups. A few drinkers sat at the bar sipping cold lagers with faces that did nothing to suggest pleasure. The Tannoy burst into life and an unintelligible announcement was made about a ferry for Caen. The voice as clear as a CD played on a gramophone.
The lady opposite sat, spilling across the seats to either side, consuming cup cakes from a box as if she needed to eat as regularly as others breathe. Her travelling companion was cadaverous by comparison, taking occasional mouse like bites from a sandwich that looked as appetising as a paperback edition of Mein Kampf.
After two hours it was time to move on, number called and the awful trip through the security cordon, shuffling through the scanner with one hand trying to hold up sagging trousers while the essential belt was examined by the harridan who searched the baskets. The elderly gentleman in front managed to drop all of his metal belongings onto the floor as he attempted to retrieve them from the plastic basket. Bending down to recover them, the contents of his jacket pocket joined his watch, belt and keys. This had the probability that the pattern would continue indefinitely. The uniformed security staff looked on clearly concerned that any sign of humanity would undermine their authority.
"May I help?"
"Oh thank you so, so much." He stood and lost his trousers and dignity at the same moment.
The proto-nazi in the uniform and savagely peaked cap sniggered meanly at the sight of a gentleman who, moments ago, had a certain gravitas until gravity revealed some rather dashing Calvin Klein underpants.
Thankfully he managed to recover his trousers without assistance and accepted the advice to sit while he re-threaded his belt. The queue moved on and eventually boarded a coach. The coach drew up alongside the ship, Boudicca and the driver advised, "there's a long queue for the gangplank so I'll keep the doors closed because it's freezing out there." Hmm - the gangplank! would Blackbeard be making us walk along it: gangway might have been more reassuring. In fact the thought of a dip in the water was rather pleasant as the coach was heating up to sauna temperatures and the lady (or was that ladies for indeed it was her with the cup cakes) was wearing an overpoweringly strong perfume or was that some poorly scented exudation?
Eventually we boarded and the sanctuary of the cabin was found - spacious and even more so as none of the cases were present.
Tomorrow you learn about the lifeboat drill (including the chap who spent 5 minutes trying to blow into the water activated light in the hope that it was the whistle) and dinner with 'Silent James", "Brittle Margaret" and "Defensive Lorna".
Well there's no getting off but it's a very solitary wake that forms behind this ship.
–
Check-in was straightforward and a first opportunity to view the other adventurers. In waiting areas time stands still or, at least passes at a different rate than elsewhere on the planet. Some sat staring at newspapers while others sipped coffee substitute from unhelpful cardboard Costa cups. A few drinkers sat at the bar sipping cold lagers with faces that did nothing to suggest pleasure. The Tannoy burst into life and an unintelligible announcement was made about a ferry for Caen. The voice as clear as a CD played on a gramophone.
The lady opposite sat, spilling across the seats to either side, consuming cup cakes from a box as if she needed to eat as regularly as others breathe. Her travelling companion was cadaverous by comparison, taking occasional mouse like bites from a sandwich that looked as appetising as a paperback edition of Mein Kampf.
After two hours it was time to move on, number called and the awful trip through the security cordon, shuffling through the scanner with one hand trying to hold up sagging trousers while the essential belt was examined by the harridan who searched the baskets. The elderly gentleman in front managed to drop all of his metal belongings onto the floor as he attempted to retrieve them from the plastic basket. Bending down to recover them, the contents of his jacket pocket joined his watch, belt and keys. This had the probability that the pattern would continue indefinitely. The uniformed security staff looked on clearly concerned that any sign of humanity would undermine their authority.
"May I help?"
"Oh thank you so, so much." He stood and lost his trousers and dignity at the same moment.
The proto-nazi in the uniform and savagely peaked cap sniggered meanly at the sight of a gentleman who, moments ago, had a certain gravitas until gravity revealed some rather dashing Calvin Klein underpants.
Thankfully he managed to recover his trousers without assistance and accepted the advice to sit while he re-threaded his belt. The queue moved on and eventually boarded a coach. The coach drew up alongside the ship, Boudicca and the driver advised, "there's a long queue for the gangplank so I'll keep the doors closed because it's freezing out there." Hmm - the gangplank! would Blackbeard be making us walk along it: gangway might have been more reassuring. In fact the thought of a dip in the water was rather pleasant as the coach was heating up to sauna temperatures and the lady (or was that ladies for indeed it was her with the cup cakes) was wearing an overpoweringly strong perfume or was that some poorly scented exudation?
Eventually we boarded and the sanctuary of the cabin was found - spacious and even more so as none of the cases were present.
Tomorrow you learn about the lifeboat drill (including the chap who spent 5 minutes trying to blow into the water activated light in the hope that it was the whistle) and dinner with 'Silent James", "Brittle Margaret" and "Defensive Lorna".
Well there's no getting off but it's a very solitary wake that forms behind this ship.
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