Allons y, mon ami!

As Australians, living in a vast land with such varied environments and very desirable conditions, its a bit of a big deal when we decide to visit another country. Europeans however, make it look like a walk in the park. I was amazed at the ease with which we loaded Thelma onto a huge ferry at the Dover terminal in the UK and just an hour and a half later, we arrived at Calais, in France.

It was just like going through a toll station on the Gateway at home. They checked our ticket and told us to line up at number 217. Nobody asked about passports at all. The weather was cloudy, but the sea was as flat as glass as we watched the white, chalk cliffs of Dover fade behind us.

On our way to Paris, we made a short detour through the tiny village of Villers-Bretonneux, to visit the Australian War Memorial. It is set high up on a hill in the Somme countryside and after having spent quite a tense hour travelling in the right hand lane on the WRONG side of the highway, the sight of the Aussie flag waving proudly was quite a moving sight.

A very kind French woman took our photo for us...

and we climbed the tower for a magnificent view of the countryside.

 The imposing sandstone buildings were constructed by the Australian government after the First World War and it features the graves of soldiers from all the Commonwealth countries. The area was also under threat during the Second World War and bullet holes in the Memorial buildings are a stark reminder of the damage that was sustained.

We gave a rousing rendition of Waltzing Matilda as we descended the tower and paid our respects to the fallen, who can never go home. Lest we forget.