We set off on the Wednesday straight from work. Jumped in the car and headed off down the M4 to bonny Folkestone. We made the assumption that the Chunnel would be easy to find even though we had never been there before.
As we neared Folkestone signs began to appear for the Chunnel. As our hotel for the night was said to be located opposite the Chunnel we thought smugly to ourselves we just need to follow these signs to the chunnel and we would see our hotel from there. What we didn't realise was the signs led directly from the motorway via a slip road, with no roundabout or alternative exit, directly to the check in booth for the train.
We appeared to be the only car at the terminal at that late hour and then had to embarrassingly explain to the Chunnel Booth man we had never been on the Chunnel before or to the Folkestone area and were not due on a train until the following day. He then gave a knowing smile and proceeded to print an exit ticket and give us directions of how to get out of the Chunnel terminal.
Once we exited the maze that was the Chunnel terminal exit route for idiots we then saw our hotel for the night opposite the terminal as described. Hotel was as expected, clean and anonymous. We settled down for the night with our dreams of what tomorrow would have in store and few grumbles about lumpy beds.
We had not yet decided where we were going apart from France...
No comments:
Post a Comment