LDN to Amdam

This was after, only being 10 minutes out from Dover at midnight, we hit traffic. Traffic that makes L.A's look like the Autobahn. For three hours we crawled, what Google Maps later informed me, was all of about 2kms...

" *sigh*... And I'm tired man... But we are almost at the ferry" slowly mused the deep-voiced driver. 

He was hands down the greatest bus driver in the history of histories, and not only that but one of the best characters I've ever encountered. Long and wiley, with a crazy mop of hair, and a humour that was caught somewhere between sharp-as-a-tack and completely-self-aware. 

Because we were push back by the traffic we had to wait an hour and a half for the next ferry. This is of course after an hour spent sitting in the customs line, having our passports stamped, and generally fart-arseing about!

We'd left at 10pm Friday night, and finally, at 6:40am Saturday we were leaving the UK!

I do have to say, crossing the dead calm Channel at sun rise is something to behold. Floating in the middle and seeing how incredibly close France is to England gave a whole new appreciation to the fact that 70odd years ago that tiny island stood up in one of the greatest acts of defiance in human history, and said "No". Makes you feel proud to now call it home.

Finally we reached the continent, only just before we were due to arrive at our final destination. 

So on we trucked. Only five or so hours until we reached Amsterdam. 

And what an uneventful five or so hours they were. 

We were kept entertained by the strange group of friends to our left, and the bloke talking on the phone in some crazy language for two of those hours behind us. 

After 17 hours of travel the landscape became very flat, windmills appeared next to canals, and a light green haze floated lazily on the breeze. We were there; Amsterdam. 

All the was left was to find out camp site, erect our tent, swim off 17 hours of grime, find food, and sleep. A glorious, air-mattressed sleep.