Chapter 40

Rory

It hardly seemed a year since we were last preparing to go on holiday to the house in France yet here we were packing once again. Since we were not flying we were able to be a bit more generous with our luggage so we took two 30 kilo rucksacks with a change of clothes, our toiletries, night wear and any other things we might need if we wanted to stop over night on the way to the train. We had originally thought about Newcastle for the boat journey but decided instead to take the channel tunnel as we had never experienced that before.

Because of this we decided to stop somewhere near Folkestone on the way down, cross through the tunnel and then travel from Calais to the house in the Loire with perhaps one other overnight stop and do the same on the way back. Not wanting to lose too much time at the house in France we decided to start two days earlier and use them for the Journey.

To make things easier, we had a tow bar fitted to the car and then bought a bike rack which fitted onto the tow bar and carried up to three bikes. Rebecca had purchased a racing bike to match mine since we decided to do quite a bit of cycling rather than use the just the car to go places while we were over there. Just to make sure everything was ok with the bikes we had them serviced at the local cycle shop before setting off.

We packed everything the day before, filled the car with fuel and then loaded everything into our car. Once we had done this we put the bike rack on the tow bar and loaded on our cycles so that we could have an early start in the morning.

Since we had electrics for a trailer fitted at the same time as the tow bar we had also bought a board with another set of rear lights and flashers plus a number plate. So that we could put this across the bikes since they obscured the number plate on the car. We also looked at the map and planned our stopping places for petrol and food breaks on the way down. We decided not to book a bed and breakfast but just look for one as we neared Folkestone.

On the day we set off with the car, we felt a fair degree of excitement since this would be our first long journey since passing our driving test. Ruth and David were there to see us off and once more admonished us to drive carefully, to have frequent breaks, but above all to have a good holiday. We assured them that we would do as they advised and then with final hugs and kisses set off on what would be for us, a new kind of adventure.

On the first day, which was Friday, we faced approximately an eight hour journey which we split up into two hour shifts. Each time we stopped we filled up with fuel and on each second stop we had coffee then a light lunch at one of the motorway service stations. We arrived at the edges to Folkestone around four thirty in the afternoon. As we journeyed towards the main part of the town we saw a neat little semi detached villa advertising bed and breakfast. There were no cars parked in its drive as we pulled in to the parking space in front of the house. We took this as a good sign in so far as it might mean they had space for us. When we rang the bell the door was opened by an elderly lady I took to be in her late sixties or early seventies.

When we enquired about a bed for the night she welcomed us in with the enquiry, "One room or two?"

We indicated a bit apprehensively that we only required one room since it was fairly obvious we were teenagers and very probably unmarried. But we need not have worried.

"Would you want a room with a double bed or two singles?" she asked with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

She might have been elderly as far as we were concerned, but she was obviously pretty broad minded as far as the sexual mores of the modern teenager was concerned.

"We would prefer one with a double bed if you have it," I answered.

"We have a very nice room with a double bed which overlooks our garden," she told us, "So if you get your luggage I will take you up and show it to you now."

We pulled our rucksacks from the car and joined her in the hall, and she led us up stairs to a room at the back of the house. It was very spacious and equipped with a large wardrobe and a chest of drawers. It also had a small en suite shower room. We indicated that we were very pleased with it and would take the room for one night as we were travelling to France the next day.

"Have you travelled far today?" she enquired.

We told her we had come down from Marchester in North Yorkshire and had been on the road for over eight hours.

"We don't have tea making equipment in the bedrooms," she told us. "But that is because my sister and I like to greet our guest with a cup of tea when they arrive. So if you want to put away your things and freshen up, then I will put the kettle on and you can come down to the sitting room when you are ready. By the way my name is Margaret, and my sister is Helen, she finished."

"I am Rory Macgregor," I told her and this is my partner and fiancée Rebecca MacFarlane," I said as I introduced us. "It is very kind of you to offer us such hospitality and it will be a pleasure to join you in about five or ten minutes"

When we joined her in the sitting room she introduced us to her sister Helen.

"Those are two lovely Scottish names, Helen remarked when we were seated, "But you do not have Scottish accents."

"My great grandparents came down to Yorkshire and set up a business there," Rebecca told them. "I have never lived in Scotland though I have visited parts of it with my family," she added.

"My father was Scottish," I said. "But he married my mother and came to live in Marchester. Sadly he died not long after I was born. But I have visited my Scottish relatives a few times."

They expressed regret at the loss of my Father and Helen went on to tell us that she had married a Scottish farmer and that she had lived in Scotland for most of her adult life. However when they had retired from the farm she and her husband had come down to live as they had no children of their own and they wanted to be nearer her sister. When her husband had died, they had both sold their smaller houses, bought this one, a moved in together to set up this little bed and breakfast business.

"It is not that we really need the money" Margaret had gone onto explain. "But it keeps gives us an interest and we meet a lot of nice people.

"And occasionally some that are not quite so nice," Helen said with a laugh and we joined in with her laughter.

"Well I hope we will prove to be one of the nicer ones," Rebecca said with a smile.

"Oh we are already sure that you will fit into that category," Margaret said with a smile. "We have come to be very good at spotting the ones who are going to be a pleasure to serve."

They enquired pleasantly about our reason for travelling to France and we told them about the family house in the Loire Valley and how we had holidayed there last year and made a lot of friends. One thing led to another, and before we got back upstairs they had managed to get quite a lot of information from us about our lifestyle and what our parents thought about us living together at such a young age and that they had agreed to us marrying when we reached eighteen. But they were also very open and accepting about our relationship.

Around seven we left the house and following the directions of our hosts we found the route to the terminal where we would board for France. Once we knew where we were going we found a nice little restaurant and had our evening meal before returning to our bed and breakfast.

In the morning we were given a full English breakfast and they stayed and chatted to us as we ate. We really enjoyed their company and their prices were very modest a mere thirty five pounds to house and feed the two of us.

Before leaving we told them that it was our hope to visit the house in France fairly regularly and that we would be going across next year after our wedding to celebrate our marriage with our French friends and honey moon there. They gave us their business card and told us they would love to have us on that occasion too if we were travelling by car. We told them we probably would be and that we would phone in advance and book a place with them. They both came to the door to wave us off as we headed for the train.

Rebecca

We caught the ten am. Crossing and arrived in France 35 minutes later. After we alighted and finally got underway in our car it was just after eleven am. And we faced a journey of about five and a half hours at least to reach our destination. Since we intended to travel most of the way on toll roads we felt we should divide this up into sections of one and a half hours per driver. This meant we would have two spells at the wheel and should be able to reach our destination that day.

It proved to be a fairly uneventful drive. We made a stop at the supermarket in La Fleche to stock up on provisions and we bought a few bottles of wine and some French bread for use that day. It was after six in the evening when we arrived at our destination. We had a note from our cleaning lady saying that she had left some milk in the fridge in case we arrived without any.

Once we had carted our luggage upstairs we came back down to the kitchen and Rory put the kettle on for a cup of coffee. While he busied himself doing this I made a quick call home on my mobile to let them know we had arrived safely just as we had done the night before. Before hanging up, I handed the phone to Rory so that he could have a few quick words with my mum and then we had some French bread and cheese before going upstairs to unpack.

Once we had our clothes stowed away we went back down to the kitchen and stacked away the food we had not needed to put in the fridge or the freezer. With everything shipshape we decided to go for a walk and work of the stiffness from our journey as it was a nice evening. On our way back to the house we met our neighbour, John Pierre and his wife, who shared the joint road with us until it branched off to their farm. They had been driving back to their home when they stopped the car to talk to us. They insisted on us getting into the car and coming to their house and when they learned we had become engaged, a bottle of sparkling wine was pulled from their refrigerator and they toasted us and wished us a long and happy union. Perhaps the wine helped for we had less difficulty this time in dropping back into our French conversational mode but then we had been practising all those months we had been back in England so it was probably partly due to that also.