We achieved yesterday's avowed aim of visiting four countries in one day, but only just. From where we are parked in a free stellplatz in Roentgen, a small satellite town of Aachen, we are actually in Belgium, however the houses across the road is in Germany. Borders are odd places. Has anything in human history caused more bloodshed than these imaginary lines? Squabbles about mythical beings maybe.
Anyway, this morning we had woken up early but these days time is a slippery customer and we didn't exit the Cantebury parking place until 9.30am. cutting it fine to make our designated time slot at the tunnel. Now it's become a multi stage exit process: first register your arrival and collect a windscreen hanger from Mr. Robot, secondly check-in with a human, thirdly pull forward twenty yards and have your passport swiped by UK border force, drive on a bit further to the 'security shed' - one person checks that the gas has been turned off then the police search inside for interlopers, finally, after another 50 yards a French official checks the passports again..
Usually all this malarkey would provoke a full-on outburst of post Brexit fulmination, however the policeman was disarmingly positive and friendly. Small and somewhat thick set, he managed to exude beaming affability edged with menace, a contradictory demeanor which is the unique preserve of the Geordie male.
"Ev cum tu check-oot ya vaan, al pop me maesk ern. No scary muther-laws or big black dergs hidd'n away, eh?"
I let him in the passenger door, he glanced around cursorliy. "Wot a luvly mo'ahoam", he exclaimed, "am convinsin the wife we should be hevin wun!"
With that he waved us through wishing us a safe trip. He was nice, brightening up the demoralising bureaucracy of departure with a kind human touch. I thought, I bet I know exactly where he grew up. Tyneside certainly, probably the north bank of the Tyne somewhere between Scotswood and North Shields. Even though I have the merest ghost of a Northeastern accent myself, my ear is still attuned to its nuances. In fact everyone can tell the difference between the English spoken on the opposite banks of the Tyne, it's just they don't realise it. North bank, think Cheryl Cole (Byker); south bank, think Sarah Millican (South Shields). England's local accents are one of the country's delights.
Small kindnesses make a big difference. Geordie copper had cheered me up. I exited the tunnel in Calais in better spirits than when I arrived at the Folkestone terminal. The sky was cloudless, the temperature in Pays de Calais a couple of degrees warmer than Kent, we set the sat-nav for Aachen and headed north towards the Belgian border.
It's a mundane drive across southern Belgium, nevertheless it requires vigilance as the motorways are busy, trucks packed close together in the slow lane, speeding Audi's in the fast, one trundling Brit Moho caught in-between.
Somewhere between Mons and Charleroi I suddenly remembered something important that I'd forgotten. German cities have low emission zones, to enter them in a diesel vehicle you need a sticker to display in the windscreen. Failure to do so incurs an €80 fine. They are easy enough to buy on-line in the UK, but it had entirely slipped my mind.
Somewhere non-descript near Liege we pulled into a parking area for a late lunch. I Googled Aachen low emission zone and checked the location of the city's stellplatz. Of course it was right in the middle of the Lez. We searched Camper contact and found an alternative place to sleep in the small town of Roetgen a few kilometres south of the city. The stellplatz was next a long distance cycleway that follows an abandoned railway line that runs from Aachen to Luxembourg.
A pleasant place, a bit of traffic noise at night, but it was free and about 300m. from a big Aldi. We toyed with the idea of spending a couple of nights here and exploring the bike track. No, we needed to press on, the south called but there was still a lot of autobahn before we were in a position to declare we had arrived there. Even so, England felt quite distant even though we had crossed the Channel only this morning.
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