Where was Bertie? For the first time in a while, he spent a night at the Aire at Wissant.
Weather: Foggy and cold start (-3), sunny afternoon, then cold again after dark.
During the cold spell in December, Erica spent two weeks without functioning windscreen washers*. When I shut the stable door by pouring neat freeze-resistant windscreen wash into her reservoir (of no use until the pump and pipes had thawed such that it could be circulated into those places), it didn't occur to me that it would be wise to give Bertie the same treatment. Then, on Thursday, during a flurry of jobs that should have been done months ago (like fixing his SatNav mount that has been sitting in the living room since November waiting to be glued), we thoughtlessly filled his reservoir with an ordinary mix of washer fluid.
The whole of last week had been rather frantic (mainly self-inflicted; how can I leave so many known jobs so late?), but by 0830 yesterday morning, off we headed into the fog. It didn't take too long to find out that Bertie's windscreen wash tubes were frozen, and unlike with Erica, it's not a feasible workaround to pop an arm out of the window and squirt water from a bottle across the screen. So, it was a slow journey south, stopping at various Services to pour hot water over the offending frozen bits that kept refreezing; we had neat screenwash with us, but having completely filled his reservoir two days prior, he had no capacity for it.
Even with all the stops, we were smack on time arriving at Vic & Juan's house for a cup of tea and a catch-up (the error I'd made in calculating our timings the day before played in our favour), before we continued on to Folkestone.
I don't think we've ever seen the Eurotunnel terminal so quiet, not even when we've travelled back silly-early on a Sunday morning. We were the only vehicle at check-in booths, the only vehicle in the large vehicles car park, and we even drove straight up to both passport control booths.
Arriving in France slightly delayed, but still an hour before our booked time, Lidl was our first port of call. Arriving there at gone 1910, with their closing time being 1930, it was a quick dash around, but I still managed to get both the essentials (i.e. something to eat for tea) and a good smattering of 'things we like to buy in France'. A little eye-watering at the till; France is not a cheap country for groceries (particularly when you buy a steak and half a side of salmon...).
We'd contemplated a few options as to where to spend the night and thought Montreuil was going to come out as favourite, but with time marching on, and not having yet had tea, we opted for the nearest: Wissant. It wasn't busy on a cold night in January.
Within fifteen minutes of having his handbrake applied, Bertie had his insulated face mask on, and I had tea on the table. A cup of tea chaser, a few necessary chores and bedtime was upon us.
(*Overnight lows down to -8 and daytime highs only climbing a degree or two above freezing meant it took that long for her frozen pump and pipes to thaw.)
Weather: Foggy and cold start (-3), sunny afternoon, then cold again after dark.
During the cold spell in December, Erica spent two weeks without functioning windscreen washers*. When I shut the stable door by pouring neat freeze-resistant windscreen wash into her reservoir (of no use until the pump and pipes had thawed such that it could be circulated into those places), it didn't occur to me that it would be wise to give Bertie the same treatment. Then, on Thursday, during a flurry of jobs that should have been done months ago (like fixing his SatNav mount that has been sitting in the living room since November waiting to be glued), we thoughtlessly filled his reservoir with an ordinary mix of washer fluid.
The whole of last week had been rather frantic (mainly self-inflicted; how can I leave so many known jobs so late?), but by 0830 yesterday morning, off we headed into the fog. It didn't take too long to find out that Bertie's windscreen wash tubes were frozen, and unlike with Erica, it's not a feasible workaround to pop an arm out of the window and squirt water from a bottle across the screen. So, it was a slow journey south, stopping at various Services to pour hot water over the offending frozen bits that kept refreezing; we had neat screenwash with us, but having completely filled his reservoir two days prior, he had no capacity for it.
Even with all the stops, we were smack on time arriving at Vic & Juan's house for a cup of tea and a catch-up (the error I'd made in calculating our timings the day before played in our favour), before we continued on to Folkestone.
I don't think we've ever seen the Eurotunnel terminal so quiet, not even when we've travelled back silly-early on a Sunday morning. We were the only vehicle at check-in booths, the only vehicle in the large vehicles car park, and we even drove straight up to both passport control booths.
Arriving in France slightly delayed, but still an hour before our booked time, Lidl was our first port of call. Arriving there at gone 1910, with their closing time being 1930, it was a quick dash around, but I still managed to get both the essentials (i.e. something to eat for tea) and a good smattering of 'things we like to buy in France'. A little eye-watering at the till; France is not a cheap country for groceries (particularly when you buy a steak and half a side of salmon...).
We'd contemplated a few options as to where to spend the night and thought Montreuil was going to come out as favourite, but with time marching on, and not having yet had tea, we opted for the nearest: Wissant. It wasn't busy on a cold night in January.
Within fifteen minutes of having his handbrake applied, Bertie had his insulated face mask on, and I had tea on the table. A cup of tea chaser, a few necessary chores and bedtime was upon us.
(*Overnight lows down to -8 and daytime highs only climbing a degree or two above freezing meant it took that long for her frozen pump and pipes to thaw.)
Stunning photo!? Bon voyage.
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