It was the summer of 1990..myself, daughter (17) and son (13).We were heading for Puy St Vincent in the French Alps. Friends had kindly offered us the use of their apartment for a few weeks. We'd stayed there the previous summer, loved the place, made good friends and were raring to go. Then, on the early morning ferry from Dover to Calais, the captain announced that French farmers and lorry drivers had blocked the exit from the port...Can't recall what they were striking about this time
He then informed us how to escape via the industrial estate, but warned that we wouldn't get very far if driving in France. So, quick consultation of the map and off we set..into Belgium, through Germany and on into Switzerland....eventually creeping back into France, where we made our way via some very minor roads, some barely more than farm tracks..arriving eventually at our destination, which was eerily quiet. The next morning we headed down to the boulangerie for our breakfast croissants and were greeted with looks of amazement from Monsieur and Madame, who demanded to know how we had got there. After listening to our account, punctuated by many "Ooh la las" from Madame, Monsieur exclaimed, "Un veritable autour de France!" ...and presented us with our croissants on the house 