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So we´re back again. I wanted an adventure. And I got one :-)

No, I didn´t reach the UK. That was due to Ronjas lack of a passport. See, we planned the whole thing pretty impulsive. I booked the ferry, and the other day we had to take it. I wasn´t prepared for Ronjas passport not being where it was supposed to be.

So, I tried to get another, temporary one, but the town hall clerk wouldn´t hand it to me without my husband being present (...) and of course my husband was working and couldn´t manage to get out of his meeting. And then the town hall was closed, and we had merely hours left, so... we simply decided to go anyway. I mean, we´re all Europeans, and nobody in France, or Belgium, or the Netherlands wants to see the passport of a six year old girl.

Well - the British officer wanted. And he wouldn´t let her in without one. But no problem, by then I had made a backup plan I had allready fallen in love with - staying in France, alone with Ronja, so at least the others could cross the channel and have that special experience, being on a ferry and seing the cliffs of Dover appear. Only flaw in the plan - I took my passport, but I left my wallet at home. Well... yeah. That´s how I roll, sorry.

So, Tim, who had to board the ferry with Eva and the twins a few minutes later, handed me 200 Euros to bring us through three days in France, we kissed Goodbye, and off we went - right into our adventure.

If you want adventures, Ronja is the person to go with. At home, she annoys me on a daily base, but there, in France, she was a gift from heaven. She saw beauty in everything, even in the flowerbeds next to the traffic light. She thought the cheapest, tiniest backpacker motel was heaven, and she doesn´t mind living on a tight budget at all. I bought her a kite, though, which she spent hours with dacing along the beach. We collected shells, lived on baguette and cream cheese and apples, and we took five hour walks along the beach during which she chatted happily and sang, loud and out of tune in her high pitched tiny voice. We looked at every cobble in Callais, collected seashells, and I taught her her first sentences in French, and almost forgot I waited 14 years to take that ferry again.

Seriously, I´m a sucker for Britain, but Callais was so open, so full of possibilities, and those three days were simply... magical. I should do this more often, just go... somewhere, and spend time alone with only one of my kids. We didn´t have any books, or toys, except for that kite, we only had very little space in our motel, and we had Callais. So we explored the city, talked, and sang, and played games with paper and pen, and told each other stories out of our heads. It was nice meeting the others again three days later... but I could have done without them for another few days just fine.

Want more adventures? When we just had all kids crammed back into the car again, we found out that someone left the door open, and the battery of the car was completely empty. Zero. So, I walked into town, all garages being closed, and knocked on several unknown doors, until I found two nice men who could help us. Imagine a really ancient VW bus, yellow and rusty to the core, and two laughing, friendly Frenchmen, and all my kids in the back though I just told Ronja about hitchhiking and my experiences with that, and yeah, of course no carseats, who needs those? Believe it or not, I loved all of it. I loved managing the situation with my limited french, I loved that old car and those people who instantly helped us without knowing us, I loved hugging the strangers who were our friends for thirty minutes, when the motor finally roared again. I felt unbelievably free.

We camped in Belgium, two very small tents for six persons, ate Eclairs, cooked outdoors and swam in the sea.

And now we´re home, and this was a damn long post without any picures. But at least I´ve got music. Isn´t this one amazing version of an amazing song? To me, this sounds exactly how this song should be sung, even better than the original. I want to swim in this song.