A while back on Facebook someone asked me about the process for travelling with a pet from France to England. As most people know, that used to be no problem at all, but then Boris and David decided that the UK could no longer stand the utter tyranny of the European Union, and convinced enough voters that they have now left that organisation.
Consequently travelling with your pet is now a BIG DEAL.
So, from Alençon to Folkstone, via Calais…..
First step: Beatrice needed a passport. Yes, really, there is a European pet passport that you get from your vet, that documents that all of her various inoculations are up to date. In these post COVID times it’s harder for the cat to enter England than thousands of COVID carrying tourists.
Step Two: Book your car’s passage. We opted to take the train through the channel tunnel because it seemed like the fastest and easiest option. There are, incidentally, a plethora of ferry options from various French ports to Britain, at various prices, and various lengths of travel up to overnight. When we decided to try a ferry coming back to France we did though have the good sense to stay far away from anything P&O.
Booking our passage on Eurotunnel Le Shuttle service was simple enough. A return trip will cost you around 250 €. Plus 27 € for Beatrice. Each way!
Tickets bought and paid for we headed up the tollway to Calais, where we spent a night in the very not recommended Holiday Inn.
The next morning we set out to reach the Eurotunnel. This is good time for Google Maps because the signage is honestly rather poor. Although I did appreciate that every sign on the Eurotunnel property that pointed our way said “Grande-Bretagne” and not “Great Britain.” It’s almost as if they’re making a point about Brexit….
Anyhow, I had done some pre-trip checking, and had learned that before you get to the place where you check into the tunnel, you need to detour to the separate building where you check in your pet.
The drive-through was closed when we got there, so we carried Beatrice in, where she had her microchip scanned, her passport checked and stamped, and our own tickets confirmed. This took all of five minutes.
The circuitous route from there back into the check-in queue took much longer, but I suspect that we missed a turn.
So, through French customs (who wanted to see Susan’s Canadian passport, not the British one that lacked her visa), then British customs, (who were happy to see the British one), and we were checked in. (I honestly can’t recall whether the travel check-in was before or after the customs…)
Now in my imagination, driving our car onto a train that would travel beneath the English Channel sounded terribly romantic.
In practice it’s basically like a very narrow, single lane BC Ferry. Except you’re not allowed out of your car. And for most of the trip it’s pitch dark outside of the train.
As the doors closed between us and the train car in front of us, I couldn’t help but feel that this was altogether too familiar. Then I looked to my left.
Yes, we had travelled thousands of kilometers only to wind up in yet another beige Bombardier train car…. thankfully the entire time spent on the train was about 35 minutes. Not even long enough for a nap.
And Beatrice slept though the entire trip, until we got to hotel. Which, of course, she loved.