France was just another stepping stone to get to our destination. We situated ourselves on a ferry which ran from Calais to Dover. All we wanted to do was to get to the other side. I don't think I bothered to look out at the water or to gaze back at France.
Clearing the English customs proved to be a tedious process. The custom's personnel looked at our passports and immediately 'drugs' must have come to mind. We had traveled through countries which were known for such things. I'm sure our appearance didn't help; traveling in the wee Morris didn't do much for our attire. We were asked to step out of the car while it was examined throughly. Mirrors on long poles checked out the undercarriage. All the tires were tapped as was the sides of the car. We waited impatiently as the inspection went on, what a relief when we were told we could get back in the car. Off we drove towards our final destination: London.