I Am NOT a Lonely Planet Traveller

Looking back, August 2021 was one of the most harrowing road trips we undertook was driving to visit our family in France and then onto the UK just after the COVID restrictions were lifted. We didn’t want to fly from Portugal, so driving in our own car bubble and staying in Approved and SAFE Clean hotels was the best of two evils. Seriously, who wants to hang around airports, stand in long queues, and then sit like a sardine in a tin in a germ-infested aeroplane?

Either way, we were anxious but had no choice if we wanted to see our family. I still remember the stress of making sure our COVID passports were up-to-date. Presenting them as we arrived at each hotel and restaurant, everyone was still socially distanced. It was surreal. We were still wearing masks for fear of catching COVID, and I was one ball of stress and anxiety the whole journey.

After a restful two weeks in France, the next leg of our journey was to catch a ferry from Dieppe to New Haven in the UK. The plan to break the journey in a hotel just outside Rouen before driving on to Dieppe the following day.

I’ve never been a Lonely Planet type of traveller so… um.

The hotel was not where it was supposed to be according to the GPS coordinates, and we ended up down a dead-end track with several burnt-out cars which led into a forest. We were obviously lost and narrowly avoided being carjacked as we drove through the gang at speed.

We rang the hotel for directions. Of course, their English was worse than my French. This was a big hotel chain, so I was surprised, even annoyed. English is the universal language.

After two hours of driving around in circles on an industrial estate, around a small town and a housing estate, we decided to drive up to the motorway to the next exit, and as dusk turned to night, and just as we were about to abandon our quest and find alternative accommodation, we stumbled across our hotel. OF course, the forest had four sides, and we had been on the wrong side and the GPS didn’t acknowledge there was not a road through the middle!

Our nightmare didn’t end there. The room we were shown to was filthy. I asked for another and another. They were all the same. Next, we could not turn off the aircon and because we were on the edge of a forest and our earlier experience with carjackers, we were not prepared to sleep with our window open.

I did write a review and included photographs, but my complaint was never acknowledged.

The following day, we caught the ferry. Only a four-hour trip … relieved we arrived in New Haven. Of course, our Portuguese car, driven by a Brit, was pulled over by customs, and our paperwork scrutinised before we were waved on.

Driving up through the UK, we realised they were far more relaxed about using masks than most folk in Portugal. Being in the high-risk category, we felt on edge the whole time. I can only say that when you get to a certain stress level, your mind begins to close down, and every small detail is amplified.

… and that was just the first leg! The return journey was by ferry to Santander in Spain. That’s another story for another day.

This post was inspired by https://wordpress.com/tag/dailyprompt.

Did you travel during this time?