Five Day Trip to Calais — Unless a Seed

Day Three, Saturday (Part Two)

During many verbal jousts and much humour some serious subjects were juggled including meditation and wisdom. Paul, alias Sir Gaffa, left Secondary School with his brain intact – which is quite an achievement knowing the school he attended, and the ‘us and them’ ethos that paraded the corridors.

*An evening of finding a restaurant, good food, and wisdom*

Since graduating his education commenced in earnest. He is well-read and if the local library were to close he could open up his home to the simple folk of Whitstable and they would be enriched and entertained.

So we discussed meditation and wisdom:

Sir Gaffa: ‘I’ve been meditating on wisdom, Sir Seagull.’

Sir Seagull: eyebrow raised

Sir Gaffa: ‘The ant, Sir Seagull. It has no leader and yet…’

Sir Seagull: head tilted

Sir Gaffa: ‘You can learn a lot about wisdom from animals…’

Sir Seagull: ‘O?’

Sir Gaffa: ‘Take cows.’

Sir Seagull chokes on his tea and repeats ‘Cows, Sir Gaffa?’

And so it continued. As most things do in the end, with or without the help of alcohol, things turned theological, but it was time to decamp into Calais town centre in search of food. The Airbnb host had recommended two restaurants. One, on the esplanade, received the thumbs down – the menu was quite limited and mostly fish.

By Sunday we were local yokels, but this evening we still used the car to drive into the centre and park. Employing Paul’s Google search, we trekked down this road, up that street, round that bend and found ourselves on the outskirts of the town centre, beyond the outskirts really, and staring at the Police Station. I asked an officer on his mobile outside the station where ‘X’ restaurant was, and he replied. Five minutes later we stood outside a rather beaten-up-looking establishment with one person sitting at a table.

My wisdom came into play at this point:

Sir Seagull: ‘Wise man once say if you can hear only cutlery clinking it is surely not wise to enter’

So back we went, past the policeman still on his mobile, round the bend, up the street etc and back to the town centre whereupon we entered a restaurant crowded with happy faces and conversation. Not a sound could be heard from the cutlery. We gave the various waiters and waitresses 5 stars. They were happy to struggle on in a unique French/English mix and made the whole evening enjoyable. The veal I had was exquisite.

And back to the flat to talk about the wisdom of cows and how they can communicate and cooperate, form friendships within the herd and so on.

We explored how cows and ants could teach the church a thing or two.

Plans for tomorrow’s visit to Dunkirk were mentioned as the dying embers of the day spluttered to a halt and healthy snoring took their place.