It’s our last day in France. So many things I’m going to miss! For the moment though, there are a few errands to run. Having put my Christmas thinking hat on, I might as well stock up on a few things I’ll need for my table. Racing in before all the stores close at noon for lunch, we find a market in progress. The seafood straight off the wharf looks amazing – all manner of crabs, scallops and lobsters. We watched one of the boats yesterday, sorting their crab catch.
There’s also fresh fruit, cheese and vegetables. Clearly, if you’re going to be in Cherbourg, Thursday is a great day for it.
We also discover the shopping precinct where I pick up red and white Christmas napkins, decorative red underplates, and a set of porcelain brulee dishes. Christmas is in full swing everywhere. Just once, I’d love to experience a white Christmas. It’s not quite the same in the Australian heat.
There’s the winter fashion to explore (all gorgeously cozy with the onset of the cold) and we discover where the locals shop.
I’m gaining a new appreciation of Cherbourg – there’s a great range of shops and restaurants and excellent seafood. It’s a little touristy with the ferry nearby, but not so that everything is focused on it. It’s going on the list of places we’ll return to.
Lunch is at the local brasserie. We’ve opted for warming simple fare: croque monsieur for Chris,
and a house speciality for me, baked pomme de terre stuffed with jambon with raclette and cornichons. A bit different, but very satisfying in the cold! One would have been plenty though.
Later in the day, we travel the final 2 km to the ferry terminal. Ironically, given all the trouble we had getting here, there isn’t a protester in sight. Ah well, c’est la vie. We just couldn’t take the chance and risk missing the ferry. Whilst we travel without plans for 98% of the time, at this end stage there would have been endless details to unpick had we missed it.
We pass the passport/police check without issue, although I think the policeman who attempted to check our entry and exit dates just gave up trying to work out how long we’d been here when we saw how many countries we’d been to.
And so we board.
It’s a four hour crossing from Cherbourg to Poole. From tomorrow on, I’ll need to dust off Dobby’s pillowcase and set myself to work, packing and cleaning with focus until it’s all done. Hopefully, there’ll be time for a little bit of fun in between the drudgery.