Going through the files, it was gradually dawning on me that my passport wasn't in its place. Shit! I double checked again. Still, no passport. Bugger!
It had to be in the car some where?? Now, I'm a wee bit obsessive when it comes to strapping bikes on cars. Better to be safe than sorry eh. The rack was so heavy with the bikes on it, and it would take way too long to remove them again, so we had to pull things out through the front of the car. Joy.
It wasn't until half the contents of the car were on the pavement, along with the hair that I was pulling out, that I discovered my passport in between some books. Oops. Sarah has the patience of a saint!
After this, I have to say that my central nervous system was on red alert. I was convinced that I was going to be doomed to a journey of endless looking in the rear mirror to check that the bikes were ok. After eyeballing the bikes for the 356th time, and reassuring myself that the 80mph winds weren't due for another 8 hours, I managed to relax and enjoy the ride with my girrel.
We made it into Belgium in good time and with the bikes still attached! Here are some pics from York and the move:
The River Ouse.
Breakfast at Betty's. Regardless of the weather, there's always a queue outside.
Where do I start?
Getting on the Tunnel.
After about 4 attempts and missing the actual Belgium sign, this was the best I could do!
My welcome home courtesy of my girrel.
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