They’ll be blue birds over…

After spending last night in a glorified car park we traveled to Boulogne-sur-Mer which is the largest and oldest fishing port in France. The old part of the town is surrounded by ramparts which the 3 of us strolled leisurely on top of giving us panoramas of the whole area. One corner held the old Chateau, now a museum,which had a moat and it’s own Lilly pads. The only disconcerting thing was the bus loads of English school children who continually said bonjour to us and only giggled when we said hello back. An Englishman abroad and all that……

After traditional baguette and cheese for lunch we wandered down to the port and along the prom, very English and many frites stalls so we did not stay long.

Onto our last campsite in France and what stuck out like a sore thumb, in the distance, was the white cliffs of Dover.