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| White Cliffs of Dover: marking our exit and later re-entry to England |
The next morning at our hotel, I didn’t want to leave. The group splintered and fragmented as a few stayed in Paris, a few caught the bus to the airport, while the rest of us were driven back to London. The coach got stuck in traffic and then faced long queues for the ferry back from Calais to Dover, but eventually, we made it back to the centre of London, where we finally all went our separate ways.
It feels like I’ve woken up from the best dream ever. It’s unfortunate because I kind of want to go back to sleep and keep experiencing it, and not just because I’m so tired I almost fall asleep standing up.
It was nine days of amazing experiences, seeing amazing places, and hanging out with some pretty awesome people. And now I might never go back to some of those places again (which in the case of Amsterdam isn’t a great loss, but others I really enjoyed) and will probably never see any of the people from the tour again. Of course, there’s Facebook, and when we went our separate ways there were promises of friend requests and keeping in touch, but we all live in different parts of the world. I’ll never see them again, I know it. (This is a shame particularly in the case of the more, um, attractive people from the tour.)
I don’t see how touring England and Scotland can top the Europe tour.
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