Lille to Maldon
September 26th 1995
As it happened, i woke at six o'clock the next morning and although, at first, i couldn't really decide whether i wanted to get up or not, i ended up doing it and catching the train at half past six.
At Calais, i got straight onto the free bus which takes you to the ferry terminal from the railway station. It was quite a cold morning, so i was lucky i didn't have to wait very long for the bus - which was the first one of the day. There was only one other person waiting at the bus stop and the ferry was almost completely empty.
It was very windy and the crossing was pleasantly rough. I like a bit of weather when i'm on the water in a large boat. I like to feel the movement of the deck under my feet and i enjoy the entertainment value of walking around when the thing's pitching and tossing all over the place. Unfortunately all the doors to the outside decks were locked because of the weather, as i felt like being outside that morning. But i doubt i would have stayed out long in that weather though!
At Dover, i was stopped by some dickhead immigration official as i walked through passport control. He made me wait outside his office while he took my passport in to check up on me. He was a real rude bastard too, and when he stopped me he barked at me in a very unfriendly manner "How long you been over there?" in a way that implied he thought "over there" was filthy and filled with disgusting foreigners. I gave him a dirty look, but i wasn't prepared for this and it was a bit early in the morning for me to start hassling the brain-dead idiot.
He came out of the office after what seemed like ages and started asking me some stupid question about whether i had a scar on my right hand or not. I'm pleased to say i didn't and i'd hate to think what would have happened if i had! In the end he gave me back my passport and asked where i had to go. "Chelmsford" i replied.
"You'd better go outside the docks and start hitching then." he replied.
I gave him a look of puzzled disbelief and answered "I think i'll catch a train!"
Where do they find these dropkicks? Maybe they have to have an operation to remove the few brain cells they had when they applied to be immigration cops. I don't know.
At Liverpool Street Station in London, where the train for Chelmsford left from, i phoned my sister's place to see if there was any chance of getting a lift from Chelmsford when the train got in and she told me my brother-in-law was also catching the next train. I found him on the train and he filled me in on what had been happening while i'd been away. It's funny how things like that happen sometimes.