It was a gorgeous day on Cap Gris-Nez, and – as promised – we could actually see the famous white cliffs of Dover, looming a mere 19 miles away.
The Cap is naturally full of the remains of German bunkers, and pillboxes, as they assumed the attack from England would come here, at the closest point between the two countries. Today, it was just a gorgeous place to see the Channel, and watch sheep graze between the bomb craters.
We were working our way towards Calais today, as tomorrow we are using the Chunnel for the first time. We are going to visit dear friends in London. (Dear friends in question, surely you are grateful I did not describe you as dear old friends.)
But a bit about about Calais. We naturally had to go to the Hotel de Ville and see the famous Rodin work in situ. And dramatic it is, as is their Hotel de Ville.
But the sad Burghers of Calais would be even more saddened by their modern city. So little is left of the old town, and what replaced it is just plain, or just plain ugly. Not much about this town reads French, as it is clearly the home of many immigrants, and those who support the busy port. We saw a summer festival in progress, and can see that it is at least an enthusiastic community.