End of an era?

Leaving Paris, half way to Calais, we stopped at a truck stop for lunch. The wind was staggering. When I was getting back into the car, the wind caught the door and it flew as hard as you could throw it into the van next to us. The noise would have certainly roused attention, but it was no doubt lost in the wind. It cracked the side of their rear indicator. oops. I sat and thought for a while. The rest of the van was rough as guts, my bit of damage was completely undistinguished from the rest so we let sleeping dogs lie. We drove up to Calais and caught the euro-tunnel. It was cool if not a little underwhelming. We drove into a train and emerged some 30 odd minutes later a little bit darker and with 'Welcome to the UK' messages on our mobiles. I was concerned driving back on the left again after so long on the right. Traffic makes it much easier to get used to it. When there is none, and it's dark, it's a whole different ball game. We were fine.Stopped at a truck stop for so
me dinner and took off towards London. Staggeringly, our GPS said there was only 41KM to our destination, and seeing what had to have been London in the distance we decided to camp. Oh how we miss the ease of camping in countries previous. Tired from our evening channel crossing, we drove down a police-only off-ramp. The camp was slopey and noisy, not resulting in terrific sleep. This morning we were woken by highway patrol knocking on our window. They were nice enough, but it was so ironic how it was the last official night of the trip, having camped at least 80 nights previous without interruption.
We arrived at our destination, 25 Bulwer Street or, to people who are not oddly fixated on an 8 year old television program, the point where Long Way Round began. Having done the route in reverse, it seemed only sensible that this be our finish line. So much of our lives has been spent getting to this point. Cassie was rightfully emotional, but as for me, these things take a while to sink in. As if nothing had happened, we drove on towards Port Isaac(s). We pulled off the motorway and had lunch at an English pub. Steak and ale pie seemed to fit the bill. It came with mashed potatoes, peas, carrots and all that stuff we call comfort food.

The caravan park we planned to stop at tonight was a slopey, muddy and populated paddock - hard to charge money for I would imagine! We since have stopped down the road which is much better. There would be room for 10 cars, gravel underfoot etc. We may be over someone's back fence as some partyish conversation has developed close by. It should die down soon. Our normal tricks for finding camps are not working here. Every inch of land is private.

Thanks for all the comments on the photos and posts. It always makes good reading.