Day 1 (into day 2)

Stupid-o'clock start to meet the truck and crew - Will (owner/driver) and Karen (administrator/head chef) - get the paperwork done, have a last full English breakfast, meet most of our truck mates and be ready to go by 08:00, which we did.

I've never been so high above the ground, in a vehicle that was still standing on it. From our nearly four metres high vantage point, we can see the roofs of most other vehicles, peer down into the cabs of lorries and tower abover regular coach passengers, most of whom stop and stare, many of whom point, open-mouthed or take photos. Behold our big orange beohmoth, oh lowly tourists: we are 'Overlanders'!

At Dover, we were selected 'at random' for additional security screening, Juli's big orange day bag drawing special attention. We think they just took a fancy to the truck and wanted a closer look; apparently police all over the world find it hard to resist welcoming us to their country in their own special way.

Smooth crossing to Calais (and our first clock change) then quickly through France to Belgium. On the way through this mostly flat, wide-open landscape, we saw many fields flushed with poppies. Juli was reminded of her moving trip to Ypres with some of the boys from Haliford School last November.

After a couple of food and comfort stops, Will decided it was time to turn off the motorway and find a suitable spot to make camp for the evening. After asking permission from a farmer and checking the ground was firm enougb to take the weight of the truck, he pulled off the farm track onto a likely looking field margin a few hundred yards from the main road. Here we set to pitching our tent with everyone else while Will and Karen plus the first cook group setup the camp kitchen and got on with preparing supper.

It was at this point that one of our group realised that she'd left her camera back at the last service station. Fortunately, Karen had a receipt that included their 'phone number, so Juli - one of only two French-speakers - was able to call and ask if it was still there. They said they would check and Juli was to call back a few minutes later to see if the camera could be found, which, as luck and Belgian detective work would have it, it was.

After a dinner of cold meats and salad with hot new potatoes, Juli - several brownie points richer - and I went for a walk a bit further down the track to take in the lovely warm, clear evening with just a few low whispy clouds: the perfect ingredients for a perfect first-night, complete with perfect sunset. Perfect... until...
We'd just said 'bon nuit' to one and all and were in the process of getting into our tent for the night when a car and two occupants - a man and a woman - arrived. The man was first to get out, and, although I couldn't understand what he was saying, it was quickly apparent from the tone of his huge, almost giantesque voice that he was seriously unhappy about something or other. Turns out he was the actual farmer and she was the landowner. It seems Will had asked the wrong man and these two had come across to vent their combined spleens and, quite possibly, chance their arms. Long story short, Juli "Kissenger" Sims and her language skills steps upto the plate once more and saves the day. Nominations have been filed with the Nobel Peace Prize Committee.

***

The next morning - this morning: day two - we awoke to another fine day and a perfect sunrise. After breakfast (not full English) we put our tent away and struck camp just in time (well, almost in time)  to avoid a Summer storm. Well, nothing's perfect.

As I write, we've just entered Luxembourg, passing through on our way to southern Germany and our second bush camp. Let's hope Juli's German - good but not up to diplomatic corp standard - will not be needed.

TTFN - N