Day 16 Part 2 - Oh, to be in England

(Continued from Part One)

I walked among the concrete apartment blocks of the UNESCO World Heritage site at Le Havre, through more of Perret's concrete. It wasn't unattractive, nor was it unkempt or spoilt. It looked like a good place to live. But where were the people? Even allowing for the fact it was a chilly bank holiday, there was little sign of people interacting.

I found my way to the LD Lines ferry terminal and checked in. In the departure lounge I chatted to a man who was listening to the cricket commentary on a crackly radio. As we watched a huge container vessel enter the docks, I asked him what brought him to Le Havre. "Those." He said, "I drive them for a living."

He explained that when a large vessel approaches port the captain has a lot of administration to do and it's common for the vessel to be taken around the coast by a man with local knowledge. He's been 'trying to retire' for a long time but can't resist the opportunity to get back to the bridge when an offer comes in.

On the ferry I met Edward, returning from a job interview in Normandy for a position in the far east. He leaves for Singapore in two weeks.

I met a couple now living in southern Brittany but whose accents were familiar. The woman explained she was from Wolverhampton, so we exchanged stories about my home town.

Due to "adverse tides and winds" we arrived an hour late in Portsmouth. I didn't get out of the immigration building until nearly ten o'clock and decided that I'd get a taxi to the hotel, instead of walking through unfamiliar streets on a dark Friday night.

The walking verse for Day 16 was from Psalm 82.5: They have neither knowledge nor understanding, they walk around in darkness.

When it comes to hard-drinking port on a Friday night, I have little knowledge or understanding and I didn't fancy walking around in darkness either!

I've decided that my rules allow for this taxi-ride. I'm going back to the port for the trip to the Isle of Wight, so it doesn't really count for my journey. Hey, they're my rules!

The Ferryman guest house was great, furnished in a 1930s style, and I enjoyed a lovely night's rest. James, the landlord, greeted me this morning with words that I've been longing to hear: "Full cooked English breakfast?" Wonderful!