EmmJays Travel Journal

July 1969

The Channel Crossing

The coach waited for us outside the New Frontier Hotel in Earls Court., London. When everyone had taken a seat the driver took us to Dover. We arrived at 11pm but the courier who was supposed to meet us was not there so the driver thought we were on the wrong docks. The ferry had left from another dock for Zeebrugge and the next one was not until the early hours of the next morning. A courier arrived 5 minutes before the last ferry, so it was a mad rush to get us all aboard. The ferry, owned by British Maritime could have done double duty as a cattle transport. The passengers were packed in like sardines in a can. The trip took 4 hours and the floors were very dirty, so it was difficult to find a place to get some shut-eye.

Belgium to France

The weather was overcast in Belgium and customs took several hours to clear the hoards. The were forty one people in our group so when we had all made it through customs we found the courier who was supposed to meet us in Dover. He was waiting for us in Zeebrugge. This was my first experience traveling anywhere by coach and with people I did not know. So far things were looking somewhat disorganised. I was having buyers remorse.

There were two coaches for our gang of 41. I got into the second one with 18 other people. We drove through the mist on our way to Brussels. The auto-route was closed due to slow moving traffic so we had to take secondary roads. We wound through the back streets of Brussels getting an up close look at the neighbourhoods. We stopped for supper at a cafe which was quite expensive. After a short rest we drove on, heading for France. Our hotel for the night was in Lyon, France. The following morning we drove through the French country side taking in the views from the bus windows.

Barcelona, Spain

Our final destination was Barcelona, Spain. On arrival we were welcomed by a squadron of very hungry mosquitoes which followed us everywhere we went. I was beginning to think that this was going to be the trip from hell. Our camp, Ballena Allegre, translated from Spanish means 'flying fish', was situated on a super beach not far from Castelldefels. Things were looking up! It is considered one of the best campgrounds in Europe.

I explored the campgrounds the following day and it was really massive. It boasted a laundrette, disco, supermarket, grocer, bars, snack bars, restaurants, go-cart racing circuit, roller-skating rink, arcade and accommodation for 10,000 people. It was a huge community of people from all over the world.

Drinking water had to be purchased and it was more expensive than booze. We also found that the cost of a postage stamp varied from day to day. Bus fares were like postage stamp prices, they varied day to day also. The buses hobbled along but they were worth the experience.

The beach was lovely, though very crowded. I came across two girls from Canada, Liz and Judy who were vacationing in Spain and we struck up a friendship. We spent time at the beach and we took fores into town together. Liz was homesick a good deal of the time and was indicating that she wanted to go back to Canada sooner than later, but Judy appeared to want to continue on with their stay in Spain. I had also made friends with a Welshman, Jeff, an Englishman, Bob and Gerry, a South African. We hung out together at the camp and became our own little group. We spent a lot of time at the beach, even skinny dipping one night by the light of the moon (there is a pun here, I think!).

My 21^st birthday occurred while at the camp. That evening after having spent the day at the beach we walked over to one of the camps' restaurants to celebrate my milestone birthday. The meal was typical Spanish fare washed down with the obligatory glass of champagne. Before we could fully digest our meal we had attached wheels to our feet and were roller skating at the camps rink. Having completely exhausted ourselves we decided to go to the disco to continue the celebration. We all had a great time.

In Barcelona we visited the open markets, the city itself and we got tickets for a bull fight. This was the first time I had seen a bull fight. We sat way up in the bleachers on stone benches and roared with the crowds when the matador avoided the rush of the bull. It is a cruel and blood thirsty sport but for the Spaniards it is a brave bull and a brave matador doing battle.

The fountains came to life at 10pm in Barcelona. They were lit with coloured lights that changed with the gush of water from the fountains' elaborate architecture. Some of the displays of water and light took on recognisable shapes and when this happened the onlookers showed their appreciation with ahs and oos. We avoided the souvenir shops and spent most of our time window shopping.

Judy, Liz and I hitch-hiked into town on several occasions as the buses would bulge in the middle with way too many people on board. There were times when just 3 more people could not be accommodated. The Spanish men would always stop and pick up 3 young ladies, whereas the guys always had to take the bus into town. Liz became so homesick that she made herself physically ill, so she decided she was going to go back to Canada only after 4 days in Barcelona. She booked a flight to London, but as she had nowhere to stay in London I told her she could stay at my bedsitter in Earls Court until I got back there. Judy decided to stay in Barcelona and Liz was quite OK with that. Our remaining 4 days were filled with lots of fun and in the end this trip to Barcelona was a good decision.

Spain to Britain

Having spent a full 8 days in Castelldefels it was time to leave. The weather had been great and the camping experience fantastic. A coach arrived to pick us up and we stayed in Lyon at the hotel we stayed at earlier and then we made our way back to Zeebrugge to catch the ferry back to Dover.