Calais and then Dover

The train is comfy, but not as up to date as the ones from Rome to Venice and Venice to Milan. The conductor told us, to lock our door at night, only the door is broken. We devised a "system" using our daypack and Roger's belt to hold the door shut and " locked". Our passports are taken away for the night and returned in the morning along with tea, coffee and "commercial" croissants (better than nothing!). We are arriving at 8:19, lots of time to go from Paris Bercy to Paris Nord for our next train. This one will be first class, but we are only going to Calais.

First class is definitely the way to go!

By the way Tracy, the guy in the commercials that we saw in the station in Rome that you thought was the guy in the movie "300" ... his name is Vincent Cassel (there was an interview with him in the TGV magazine on the SNCF train).

The train stops at the station just out of town, but the train is just three or four minutes late and the bus has gone. We join with another fellow, Paul, and grabbed a taxi in to the port. Paul got off in the village to eat, and we got to the port in good time and got on an earlier ferry. We showed our online booking and our passports and were given tickets; we then went through security and showed our passports again to the British Customs. Then we gave our tickets to the desk in the departure lounge and were given boarding passes. A bus picked us up, we gave the driver our passes, and she drove us across the area to the ferry where we climbed a long ramp to board.
Wow, now we are settled in the bow area, had a sandwich on nutty bread and Roger is in and out and around the boat in excitement.
The ferry is not full and has plenty of space to wander around. We get splendid views of both coastlines although it is overcast. Roger took hundreds of photos. Our B&B is just up the road. As usual we are on the third floor. I asked for the room facing the cliffs, but there is a common room that overlooks, the road and the coast. We are pegged as being Canadian as Canadians are the only ones who remove their shoes when they enter a house.
We take a wander down the beach and Roger wants Fish and Chips. It is very good, not greasy! As we sit there is a cry and thud from the street as a lady has fallen and hit her head. A nearby nurse is by her side immediately and the police show up soon after. She is shaken up, but is able to walk to the police car in a bit and they all leave. Roger also wants to charge his ipad, but didn't bring a converter so we pick one up.
The Dover village centre is noisy and I must admit at this point I am understanding the conversations no better than I was in Italy. At least in Italy I didn't expect to understand.