... was frittered away consulting every available news & weather source before making a decision whether to go to the UK or not. One thing's clear, BBC News thrives on scaremongering - phrases such as 'travel chaos' are bandied around when, in fact, large parts of the country and networks are functioning much as usual (I kept looking at updates of the M3, M25, M20, etc ... no problems). They're selective, too - massive coverage of Eurostar and the airports but no mention of Eurotunnel or the ferries. Wouldn't it be helpful to explain what is working, take the edge off the panic? Or am I missing the point and this is the purpose of the news media in Britain - to keep the population in a permanent state of fear & paranoia. (Another option: doorstep an MP and tape the conversation - if Vince Cable can be sacked for unguarded comments, why can't reporters be sacked for unethical behaviour? Anyone smell an all too convenient set-up - what with the Murdoch deal and bankers' bonuses on the table?)
Wednesday
Up at 5 am & on the road by 6 am. I make it to the Calais terminal in just over two hours. Not a pleasant journey in the dark and that type of fog that leaves a filmy mucus over your windscreen. The shuttle leaves on time (how come the French side of the operation can get it right?) and I'm around the M25 by 11:15 UK time. Relief. Now the worry begins for tomorrow's return journey.
Thursday
A later start but we're at the Folkestone terminal in an hour and a half. None of the forecast snow in the Maidstone area, little evidence of the 'traffic chaos', 'mass exodus' or 'Christmas shopping rush' predicted on the television. And only the beginnings of sleety rain as we're checking in.
Then the problems start: the dreary three-hour wait for information about departures surrounded by fellow sufferers. Screen updates are simply repeats - I get fed up seeing the letters S, T, U, A, and the long awaited B. With every passing half hour I'm thinking about the snow that's been predicted heading for Belgium. That peculiarly modern existential cocktail of boredom, irritation, helplessness and anxiety. Terminal condition: life reduced to eating, shopping, waiting, screen-gazing. Announcements come over the tannoy - ear splitting feedback followed by an annoyingly cheerful female voice calling for a coach party or a male voice so close to the mic the messages are virtually indecipherable. Which letter was that? everyone looks at each other & shrug.
Finally, we're across to Calais by 3:45 pm with a two-hour drive in prospect. The traffic is quite busy, the roads are dry but for squalls of wind and rain. By Oostende the weather has settled and I'm feeling a lot happier. Sit back, enjoy the ride. It's only as we arrive at the outskirts of Brussels that the thin snow begins. Turning down towards the house the car is beginning to struggle, tyre grip going. It's just before 6 pm & we're home. We made it. Park, lights off, open the front door, unload. Phew. Christmas begins.
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