The Euro virgin is no more

Kathryn, Mark and I mounted the Saab express people mover on Saturday afternoon and headed down to Dover to catch a Sea France ferry across the channel. The white cliffs of Dover were, to be honest, under whelming at first. Then we were out to sea and looking back at them from a distance - then they were spectacular.

Click on this for an idea of what I mean if you haven't seen them.

Less than 2 hours later we were in St Oman. We had left our run quite late - but still found a dinky restaurant for dinner. I had an arrogant expectation that people the world over would be able to make out English - wrong....

Ordering dinner was a hoot. Mark was our resident Frenchy and took great pleasure in leaving me exposed on a number of occasions! But we got through it and had a very enjoyable meal and a few wines.

Chalk "eating snails in France" off the list of 'things to do' in Europe! If ever there was a case of something being famous for being famous - then eating snails is it. Tasteless gritty buggers they were - no wonder they were drowned in garlic butter. The only thing I learnt was that the earth of our good planet tastes the same the world over.

A few nightcaps at a local, and we called it a (very good) night. The next morning we returned to the Saab (conveniently parked right by the main entrance to the local church as hundreds of people made their way in) and headed up to Belgium.

Chalk "eating mussels in Belgium" of the 'things to do in Europe' list as well. The difference to snails being, that these were stunning. Tiny little mussels - but texture and taste was divine.

Post lunch we headed down to Dunkirk - and got completely broad sided by a cycle race and could not find the bloody beach! So we settled for a fairly sombre wonder through a cemetery. I found the British Mercantile Navy graves from WW1 and had a few moments. It wasn't an aweful, shocking or pictorially moving kind of an experience - but in its own way, it still spoke, quietly, in rather forlorn tones. I'll definitely return to Dunkirk to see the beaches and spend a lot more time - so keep the European experience duster of the board on that one.

Back to Blighty and those cliffs, with Mark sat next to me, happy to spit ball about how those returning from Dunkirk must have felt when they saw them back in 1940.

So that was my European debut - and it was brilliant - so much more to follow...