The Dover - Calais Ferry

In 2014 we drove from Flemish Brabant in Belgium to Canterbury in Great Britain, via Calais and the P&O Ferry service. The first couple hours of the trip were not so spectacular, just the normal heavy traffic and steady flow of trucks on the E40 as we crossed the plains of Flanders. Just north of Calais we found the massive ferry terminal with miles of check-in booths and lanes for boarding, most of which were occupied by hundreds of semi-trucks from all over Europe. The atmosphere was that of a truck stop combined with the international duty free character of an airport. Once we checked in and showed our passports, we were directed to Lane 220 for the next sailing, which was in an hour.

Trucks lining up for the Ferry to Dover, 2014

The large number of lanes and the vast amount of space is an indication of how much traffic uses this very important conduit between the British Isles and the Continent. About twenty years ago, the Channel Tunnel opened, offering a rail connection that accommodated private vehicles from Calais to Folkstone and direct passenger service from Brussels and Paris to London, but plenty of people still use the ferry service. As I looked forward to our passage, I thought of more historic channel crossings, like Julius Caesar's invasion of Britain in 55 BC, the Norman invasion of 1066, or the D-Day landings in June 1944. Of course our crossing was quite routine in comparison to those.

Norman Fleet, Bayeux Tapestry (Wiki Commons)

Boarding the ferry took about an hour, mostly for a huge number of trucks and tour buses, with a few cars squeezed in on the upper deck. While ours was boarding, another ferry was already steaming for Britain. Between P&O, DFDS, and Ferry Connect, a vessel seemed to depart for Britain every twenty minutes or so around the clock.

The Cliffs of Dover Near St Margaret's At Cliff, 2014

Once our car was safely on board, we went above the car deck, where they had a couple pubs with English ale, a coffee bar that served Starbucks, a casino, a couple restaurants, a duty free shop full of perfumes and outlet adapters, and seating areas next to gigantic windows. My favorite place on the ferry was the weather deck, where a strong wind messed up hair and flipped clothes around as the whitecap led waves splashed against the side of the vessel. After about an hour of being in the midst of the open sea, after the French coastline almost disappeared over the horizon, the faint white outlines of the cliffs of Dover appeared and gradually became a massive white wall with sharp angles that loomed above the horizon, as we arrived in Britain, twenty minutes from Canterbury, our final destination.

P&O Ferry In Dover