Awakened the next day by the almost continuous rain that had become our constant companion, we consumed our usual copious cups of coffee, battened down the hatches and left the neighbourhood in peace once more, threading our way through a series of villages towards the coast and Boulogne. For me, there is nothing as depressing as a seaside town on a grey, wet day!
Thankfully, as the afternoon wore on, the skies cleared a little, and, buoyed by our earlier triumph in Martigny, we parked on the seafront just past the town of Wimereux, north of Boulogne, with the aim of staying for the night.
In a shameless action of biting the hand that feeds, we parked in a car park that banned Motorhomes between the hours of 7pm and 7am, exactly when Motorhomes need to park, and when cars no longer use the car-park. Go figure. Applying our own faultless, if a little twisted logic, we settled in for the night, joined by some brave Belgians. With several hours of daylight still ahead of us, we clambered down some wooden steps and took a walk on the wild beaches here.Dotted hither an yon, solitary figures could be seen digging in the sand, a lone dog scampering across the glistening surface, its owner, a yellow dot in the far distance, hooded against the wind, throwing a ball to amuse it.
Encrusted timbers, the remnants of some forgotten wharf, now haphazard amongst the rocks and seaweed, a microcosm of life, and the lonely posts of a rotting fence, its battle with the sea lost, marking its course down into the sands. A beautiful yet desolate place. Returning to the Boomobile, our cobwebs having been well and truly blown away, I buried my head in a good book, and Miki painted up a storm. As the hours advanced past the all-important 7pm, we knew we were in “the hot zone”. Would we make it through until morning without being arrested? For the answer to that, dear reader, you will have to wait until tomorrow!
Text by Kev Moore
Drawing & Photos by Miki
Both on Planet Goodaboom
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