In Newcastle over New Year (2008/2009)

We’ve been planning our trip to the Caribbean (for about 9 years) and have finally booked for March ’09. It is a rather (a-hem) dear trip that’s straining our piggy bank, so we’d decided not to do anything for Christmas or New Year.

But this resolve didn’t stop me from missing my mommy (nope, not even when you’re nearly-40 are you too old to miss your mommy).

And then out of the blue, feeling for me, Marcel surprised me with a booking confirmation (by e-mail!) saying that we were going to the UK for New Year. WHAT??

It was the 29th and the tickets were booked for the 31st!

We immediately contacted Mom to tell her the good news and explained that Marcel first had a flooring installation to do in the morning, then we’d leave from Lelystad at about 12-ish to drive through Belgium to get to Dunkerque in France in time to catch the 6pm ferry. Our expected time of arrival would be around midnight. We would stay with her and she’d let the others know that we were coming over. That was settled then. Wow. Is this for real?

In a daze, I managed to cook up some “padkos” (food for the road), pack some goodies and fill up the car. We headed off as soon as Marcel got back, took a shower and packed his clothes. The traffic was great! Busy, but no jams. It all flowed really well. Past all the trucks in Belgium, and onwards past the industrial sites of Dunkerque.

Then came another surprise … Marcel had booked VIP tickets! They apparently didn’t cost a lot more. So we got to embark first and got access to the VIP lounge, which was quiet and peaceful. There were free pastries, fruit and coffee … or beer and wine, which we declined due to our mammoth haul from Dover to Newcastle. We’d enjoy a beer/glass of wine later together with Mum!

The ferry ride was lovely and the sea calm. Feeling awfully privileged, we disembarked first and headed out through customs and onto British soil. Remembering to keep left and take traffic circles clock-wise, we headed up towards London. At that stage, either we were confused or our Tom Tom didn’t understand English, but we nearly ended up in Central London and had to retrace our steps. Darn. We were seriously hoping to bring in the New Year in Newcastle.

The North road was awesome. There were times when we had a five-lane highway to ourselves. We even got to use the brights! Something that you can rarely do in the Netherlands. The music changed from 80′s to classical to pop to … as different channels became receptive and then stuttered. We stopped twice, once for a cup of coffee and then again to get rid of its effect.

But it became clear that we’d be arriving later than we’d hoped, so we settled in and enjoyed the New Year celebration singing along with the DJ as loud (and out-of-tune) as we could. The countdown was exciting and then we saw some fireworks in between trees and buildings. The rest of the countryside lay sleeping as if nothing had changed.

We pulled alongside Mom’s curb at about 1am and qently knocked on the door. We embraced and cried and embraced some more. The “quick beer and head to bed” turned into a four-hour talkathon, catching up and sharing precious memories. Then our systems shut down and forced us to bed. I managed to get 4-5 hours of deep, solid sleep but woke up with over-excitement. I could hear our nieces downstairs and was longing to see them. Hoping not to disturb Marcel, I stealthily got dressed and crept downstairs, but I am no Navy Seal.

After a while Simon and Mikki joined us, and then Karen, Tim and Helen arrived with their little ones. It was wonderful. Loud, noisy and crowded - with the children commandeering the lounge (and tv) while the adults hung out in the kitchen. Mom cooked up a storm for us. Yummy. Later that evening, Marcel and I tackled the dishes. Argh! Where’s the dishwasher?? Then we had another quiet evening chatting with Mom and got a really good night’s sleep.

The next day we all went over to Tim & Helen’s place in a most beautiful village on the banks of the river Tyne. Helen bravely volunteerd to look after the children and cook dinner for us, while we went to visit the Metro Centre. Marcel hadn’t seen it yet, but had heard all about it. So we braved the after-Christmas sales to take a look.

Woah! Talk about a shock! There were hoardes of people. What financial crisis? Queues were lining up outside restaurants as people patiently waited for a buffet lunch. The scale of the mall is overwhelming. The decorations were jaw-dropping. We found the only restaurant that didn’t have a queue and placed our orders, giving Mom’s arthritic feet a break. The paninis and cappucinos were good. Then deciding enough was enough, we headed back to the overfull-carpark. None of the others had seen it this busy before. Ew, of all the days to visit!

Tim showed us the way to Protea Bathrooms that he established with Helen. I love husband-and-wife businesses! Tim had built the different stands to show off their products, and it looked amazing. We took a couple of snaps, but without tripods and good lighting, it was too dark to take good-quality pictures. We’ll just have to come back for a professional shoot

Mom opted out to let her feet recover when we joined Helen and the kids later for a river-walk. Helen had even arranged a little treasure hunt for the kids, they were in 7th-heaven! I was totally impressed. The walk was crisp and refreshing after the crowds at the mall. The village was picture-book on our way back up the hill, with country-pubs lining the streets (yeah, on every corner!).

Then we enjoyed a wonderful 3-course(!) meal and laughed and laughed and laughed. It was sad to say good-bye again, but we all felt richer for the experience, and couldn’t stop thanking Marcel for his wonderful idea, and Helen for her magnificent efforts.

Saying good-bye to Mom the next day was difficult. We left around 10-ish, and the drive back down went superbly well. It seemed to go so much quicker. The low, stone walls were much friendlier than the dark, looming hillsides on our way up. We’d booked another 6pm ferry, which meant we would have got home around 1:30 am, but made it back to Dover in time to catch the 4pm ferry. What a bonus!!

The setting sun made it a lovely experience. Along with other passengers, we braved the icy breeze to take pics of the cliffs, each other and a myriad of colours. Around 10:30 pm we got back home safe and sound … and extremely knackered, but feeling fulfilled and happy that the journey had been worth it.

Sometimes you just need to say, “what the hell” to your budget and go with your heart!