120 miles later and Dartford Bridge crossed, the sun had come out and we stopped at the services nearest the terminal to fill up with petrol. They seemed mostly deserted with the shops closed. Anyway we topped up with 25 litres of super unleaded and headed back on the motorway for the terminal.
At the terminal it was not really obvious when to board, but we parked up, eat breakfast and set off when called. I could not help noticing that the car was already filthy, but we still got a “beautiful car” from terminal attendant as we passed. So I blipped the throttle to their delight. The train was 20 minutes late though. On the train we hosted a family with three kids who asked to sit in the Aston to take photos – I’m not sure if the dad was the one who instigated it though, but he did not seem that interested in it.
Off the train and on towards Belgium and the Trench of Death at Diksmuide about 55 miles away. Mostly on the motorway and 130 kmh in France, but 120 in Belgium, but it gave me time to get a feel for the car – and notice a nasty blind spot on the rear quarter. The American tourists at the trenches liked the car enough to go over and look at it and take a picture.
Next was the Tyne Cot Cemetery – about 15 miles away - but via several small roads as the main one was closed. It was getting hotter and walking around in the 30+ degrees was hard going. 49 in the car was a bit hot too.
The Aston air conditioning worked well as we headed to the hotel in Ypres, less than ten miles down the road. We found a good parking spot in the Ariane Hotel - with a trio of TVR’s who had beaten us to it. Having a look they were all different models and I think we had a Tasmin (wedge) a Tamora with personalised plate and a Belgian Chimaera.
The next morning I noticed the chap with the Tasmin had cheated and cleaned the car. We passed them parked up again the next day as they eat at a café while we roared past.