For a "quick" weekend getaway, J had stuck me on a tour bus for a nice little "something" he said I deserved...especially for helping him pass his college class with an "A." So, I boarded a nice, A/C-equipped tour bus to start my solo journey with 49 other people. I picked a comfy spot by the window and curled my head against the small travel pillow I brought (along with a small fleece blanket). We picked up a few stragglers in Mannheim and the bus proceeded to drive. I droned out the words of the tour guide as I listened to an older album by Prince on the iPod.
We stopped for a quick dinner break before the bus began its long haul through the night. Around 1:00am, I woke up to the crispy and cheerful voice of our young guide---she happily chirped that we were stopping in Brussels, the capital of the European Union and of the country of Belgium. I was still waking up, but staring in awe at all the large city buildings and the beautiful architecture smack dab in the middle of the center. I've seen plenty of European cities since our stay in Germany, but I've always been amazed at each of their uniqueness. Our tour guide, Lisa, was reading off some of Brussels' important history as well as pointing out a few sights of interest, such as the Palace of Justice, Basilica of the Sacred Heart, the European Union, and a few other areas with spectacular views. We spent an hour inside the heart of the city before heading off into a rest stop near the Best Western Brussels, where I was lucky enough to grab ONE shot before groggily heading back into the bus. I fell asleep after stuffing about 3 packages of Belgian waffle cookies into my upper storage compartment and proceeded to sleep.
Sleeping on a bus (or plane) has never been a problem for me, as I learned to sleep ANYWHERE when I was in the military. Floors? You got it. Beside a noisy generator? Sure. In a tool shed? Why not? HA! So, the bus was pretty comfy---especially since I tired myself out watching Rome earlier that day. Speaking of the baby and J, they were left behind in Heidelberg. J knew I'd be fine by myself, so he didn't have any qualms about me leaving---just to make sure I was vigilant and aware of my surroundings. Around 4:30am, the bus stopped at another area---Calais, France. I peered outside the window to see that we were at a border controlled area and agents were waving the bus towards a building where the passengers would have to get out and enter. We were told to grab our passports and enter the control area; from there, we needed to see the agents to have our passports stamped with a temporary Visa before proceeding onto the ferry. I remember the lady flipped through my passport and smiled as she said, "Oh, I get the honor of placing the first stamp on your passport."
Once we all had our passports stamped, we re-boarded the bus and drove right onto one of the ferries docked in Calais' ports. It was dusk, so the skies were still a little dark, with a faint tinge of orange off in the distance. As most of the passengers scrambled to get into line in the ferry's cafeteria, I opted to go out on top deck to take in the scent of the waters off the Strait of Dover and move away from the large seagulls that looked as if I was a target for poop droppings. The ferry pulled away from Calais and I could feel the anchor being hoisted up and the large rumbling of the engines underneath from where I was standing on the deck. I heard the seagulls up above me before seeing the fantastic sights of the white chalk cliffs of Dover. Talk about something to see while the sun is coming up.
It was an hour's ferry ride from Calais, France to Dover, England. Once we boarded our bus at Dover, we took off for the final leg of my trip: London, England.
Stay tuned for the next part of my 4th of July trip...






