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We got good use out of the Magic hour this morning and got on the Peter Pan ride early, unlike yesterday's dolts. We had a pass for the whole day, but were flagging a bit and had a train to catch, so after we'd packed, had a photo taken with Princess Jasmine and checked out and decided to take one more ride on the Ratatouille attraction. This was Ernie's favourite, but I liked it best too - fun to be the size of a rat, get a bit of the feeling of a rollercoaster and some nice interactive bits like being squirted with champagne. This time I drank a few drops to break my three years and three months of sobriety. Though there is a possibility that it was water, not alcohol, but given the prices here I would hope not.
After pretty horrible £60 pizza we did some shopping, to make sure Ian Waltdisney didn't go broke. Ernie wanted a spiderbot, but they were very expensive. We said we'd pay 30 of the 75 euros but he'd have to use some of his own money to pay for the rest. The kids have been very good at accruing fivers from relatives and stealing from the change pot, but not so good at spending that money. Ernie thought he could get out of this as he didn't have any euros, only pounds, but we will make him pay.
We headed for the Gare de Nord a little earlier than we needed to. We were Disneyed out and the queues seemed longer on a Monday than at the weekend. Plus everyone was looking like monkeys that had been in the dressing up box to me now. Nothing has made me see the futility of life and the doom of the human species as much as this weekend. But I've really enjoyed it.
The French Metro is clean and efficient and there were seats for everyone. It felt like we were on a ride. But gradually we returned to normality. We navigated the one change required and got to the Eurotunnel entrance three hours early. So we had a coffee and some crepes at a cafe right by the station. If this was England we'd have been eating expensive crap, but we had a fun and polite waiter and the drink and food was good and cheap (by the Disney standards we had become used to).
We had had the best holiday our family had ever managed and the kids even coped well with a terrible Eurostar experience where the train was delayed and we were herded into pens for a good 45minutes as we waited to go through the two passport controls that Brexit has made necessary. And as we queued someone mentioned that there were train strikes at home. I had noted this on the way over, but totally forgotten. So now we had the added problem of getting from London to Hitchin at a time when cabs would surely be in short supply.
My father-in-law, Chris agreed to come and pick us up, which was beyond the call of duty. He doesn't really like driving at night, but I said I'd drive us all back, assuming he'd come in the electric car I sold him, but he came in his other car, which is manual and though I did learn to drive one of those, I haven't done so for years and the last time I tried (during the filming of You Can Choose Your Friends) I continually stalled and came close to causing an accident. Catie had had a drink or two and I didn't trust Ernie or Phoebe to do it, so Chris had to do both journeys, but took the news well.
We got home in four pieces. Which is how many pieces we'd been in when we left.
