As predicted, we were awake at stupid o’clock this morning—well before the sun was up. Sandy and I were quickly into our practised routine of packing things away. Between the electronics, my CPAP machine, several bags of clothes, and Joey’s toys, the car was bursting at the seams by the time we were done.
We made sure not to leave the house without first seeing—and hugging—all the children, and, of course, JL and Jay. My other prediction, that it would be a teary-eyed farewell, also came to fruition. Everyone was clearly very emotional, which underscored just how much we all enjoyed the visit. Having moved around the planet so much, Sandy and I seem to always be saying goodbye. It gets to you after a while. For Sandy especially, this can very much be a source of trauma, so we tend to try not to prolong these goodbye scenarios. JL also had to get the kids fed, dressed, and off to school, so that was another ideal cover for a swift departure. So, with tears all around, we pulled out of the front courtyard and set off for the half-hour drive to Harwich, where our ferry no doubt already awaited us.
We did have one last errand. Sandy had ordered some pyjamas for Joey from George, the clothing store within Asda. They were supposed to be ready for collection yesterday, but we didn’t remember until it was too late. JL drove me over to Asda yesterday, but the shop was already closed. I called their customer support and explained the situation. They said we could try this morning when the shop opens at 7 am, so we detoured there. Unfortunately, our order hadn’t physically reached the shop yet—even though the confirmation email said otherwise. The staff did a great job trying to deal with the issue, but they couldn’t magically conjure our purchase out of thin air. Reluctantly, we had to leave empty-handed.
We were soon back on the road and heading to Harwich. We hadn’t got far before ominous Road Closed signs threatened to derail our journey. Fortunately, we easily found a way around the block, but that didn’t stop the anxiety of not knowing until we were right up to the blockage.
Our anxieties were raised again immediately after we cleared the check-in point. We were one of a handful of vehicles directed to a special lane, where several police officers checked cars and even frisked some drivers and passengers. When it was our turn, they asked me to open the bonnet as they peered around with a torch. Another officer walked around the car with a mirror on the end of a stick, checking the underside. Naturally, we were fully cooperative, and the police officers were quite friendly and full of smiles. Of course, my car was by now half full of bacon and sausages, which I suspect weren’t allowed into the EU from the UK. I had visions of being caught, beheaded, and then interrogated before being given twenty years in the electric chair—all the while trying to maintain a calm, pleasant demeanour. Fortunately, the police officers seemed satisfied they found nothing. In fact, they didn’t even look inside the car. We were ushered on and boarded the ferry.
After checking in to our cabin—a slightly more spacious one this time, much to Sandy’s appreciation—we found a spot in the restaurant to unpack our electronic devices and made ourselves comfortable. The ferry is identical to the one we came in on, although it’s not actually the same vessel.
Joey stayed in the cabin while Sandy and I had breakfast. I made sure everyone’s devices were in aeroplane mode and bought each of us a £4 internet voucher. I’d hoped I could connect my mobile phone and then tether the laptop, but they had already thought of that, so I had to buy another voucher for my laptop.
Once I was settled, I wrote a heartfelt message to JL and Jay thanking them for the hospitality and for opening her home to us for the duration. I took my time with this, as I wanted the sentiments and wording to be just right. JL’s teary response told me I had succeeded.
While we have been away, Joey’s coach—the one who visits Joey for a few hours a couple of times a week—has been tidying up Joey’s toys. He’s been working on this for the past few weeks, chipping away at the monumental task one box at a time. He showed Sandy a photo of our rear courtyard full of boxes that he had been sorting out. We both almost fell off our chairs. We’re grateful for the help, but I wonder whether there will be room to move when we get home late tonight.
As on the way over, I left my CPAP machine in the car before we came up to our cabin deck. Since the car decks are closed during the crossings, I haven’t been able to use my machine while attempting to squeeze in a bit of sleep during the seven-hour journey. Consequently, I never really slept. Each time I was unconscious, my breathing stopped, and my brain woke me up again with a jolt. I feel quite groggy now, but I’ll probably sleep right through the night after we get home.
The ferry crossing was largely uneventful, though disembarkation did raise one slight snag. Between us, we have a mix of EU and British passports, so it was always going to be a bit of a pot luck getting into the right queue to clear immigration. Neither the ‘EU’ nor the ‘non-EU’ queues seemed entirely correct. A staff member nudged us toward one of the two queues, so we could always claim plausible deniability if we were in the wrong place. When we got to the front of the queue, I got out as requested and handed over our passports. I told the nice immigration officer that we didn’t have Joey’s Dutch passport with us, explaining that we were under the impression he was required to travel to the UK on his British passport. The rules changed this year regarding dual citizens, so we were just following what we believed to be the rules. I pulled up a scan of his Dutch passport, and she scrutinised it alongside Joey’s British passport details. Fortunately, she was more than happy with my explanation and with the documents, so she sent us merrily on our way. We’ve never really had any issues passing immigration, so I don’t know why I’m always anxious about it.
As planned, we made our way to a Maccas Sandy recommended—one she’s stopped at a few times on the way home from visiting her late sister in Delft. She knew there’d be a Fastned charging point there, which there was. With the top-up there, we made it home with about 30 km to spare—despite the car predicting we’d make it home with 70 km to spare (although I did drive at full motorway speeds for much of the way home).
Joey’s coach, Jeroen, had fortunately packed all the toy boxes he’d been sorting through back into the office, and the house was reasonably tidy when we arrived, which was a nice bonus. That didn’t stop us from turning it into something that looked as though a tornado had whistled through after we unpacked everything from the car.
The one final loose thread from this trip is the pyjama saga. We reluctantly had to leave without them all. I’ve since asked JL to collect them on our behalf using the confirmation number we were given (they told us at the store that would be fine). We’ll figure something out about either JL sending them or just holding onto them until the next visit.
It’s been a couple of days since we arrived home, and I need to wrap up this blog series. As is so often the case with family trips to the UK, it was a hectic tour with precious little time to do very much of anything. That said, this trip was never intended to be an all-action, activity-packed visit anyway. We went specifically to spend quality time with my niece and her family, and to pay Dad another visit while we were there. With that in mind, I can confidently conclude it was a monumental success. JL has solidified her place in my heart as one of my favourite relatives. I know, I know, I’m not supposed to have any. Still, what we have in common matters. For this trip, relaxation was the name of the game. Even with those intentions, there’s never going to be too much time to relax in a busy house with multiple children. I doff my hat to JL and Jay for making it all look so effortless, though I dare say they wouldn’t see it that way.
Connecting with JL again was brilliant, of course, but I think what Sandy and I will be especially pleased to come away from this trip with is the connections Joey has made with his cousins from across the Channel. Truly, Joey has laughed and interacted with them all so much, it almost feels like he was a different person. It has been a real joy to see—emotional, even. Even more promising was when I suggested this week that he keep in contact with his British rellies, and he replied that he had already been chatting with them online since we left. I do so hope they will keep up that momentum. Knowing he has kindred spirits will hopefully make him feel less isolated. Sandy already has her eye on another UK visit in the coming months, so we’ll see how that pans out. I, for one, look forward to it.
Well, I think I’ll wrap it up there. Thanks to everyone who responded and shared feedback on these blogs. I hope you have had fun travelling vicariously with us, and I look forward to sharing our next adventures with you, wherever they might take us.