Great Uncle John

A day of three countries. Having spent the night near Dover, we headed off to the ferry for a 10:15 sailing. As we were in the queue for check-in, I thought I'd better locate the digital version of the booking. I could not find it - nor evidence of paying for it. I was worried. 

As we rolled up to the check-in kiosk the chap had got us already through number plate recognition. Whew!

We trundled through northern France, stopping at an interesting church and a windmill before finding we were in Belgium and heading for the war grave of my Great Uncle killed in WW1 at the age of 22. A beautiful graveyard. Calm and serene.

Now at a campsite after a BBQ meal. It's quite hot here. Tomorrow? 
I don't know where we'll end up.

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