This is an edited and updated version of the article published in Issue 70 (May/June 2003) of the Rover SD1 Club Magazine.
Booze Cruises eh? What a fantastic idea. Well, for people who
live in Kent I suppose. Not such a fantastic idea for the rest of us
though. Well, that's what I thought too until June 2002. My sister
and I have managed three trips to the continent for beer, wine, cigarettes and
chocolates. Bob, my trusty V8 SD1, well he just loves the adventure of it
too!
I can't remember whose idea it was. Stef likes to smoke and I like to
quaff beer and wine. I forget who likes the chocolate though. But
anyway, within a couple of weeks we were ready for the trip. I took Bob to
Germany in 2001 (click here
for this adventure) and I actually took my driving test abroad too, so driving
on the wrong side of the road is second nature to me. We chose the
Dover/Calais crossing with Hoverspeed
and stayed at a motel in Dunkirk. Booking online with DriveAlive
saved us a small fortune and with Bob running on LPG rather than that expensive
petrol stuff, the trip was already starting to pay for itself.
Our first trip was a long weekender just because I thought Dover was miles
away and that Belgium was going to need a day trip in itself. I needn't
have worried. Dover was only a three-hour blast from Oxford at a steady-ish
75-80mph. Not bad at all if you factor in coffee breaks and the M25 on a
Friday afternoon. The crossing is a mere 50 minutes and Dunkirk is only 20
minutes from the Calais terminal. How small the world becomes when you're
cruising Continental Europe in an SD1. In fact, and here the rub, from
Oxford, Dover is closer than Manchester where my sister lives. In my case,
in terms of distance, Belgium is the equivalent of traveling to the other side
of Leeds.
The plan is always the same. After studying the online guide to Booze
Cruising, you buy the cigarettes and chocolates in Belgium then head back to
Calais for the beer and wine. And it is that simple. Calais to
Adinkirke in Belgium is about 40 minutes. After driving into Belgium, exit
the motorway at the first junction after the border crossing. Within two
minutes you're in Tobacco Alley. This is a long street of mostly English
run shops selling only cigarettes, spirits and chocolates. I found the
place a little grim but I'm told that you can't argue with the prices. On
our first trip, 200 cigarettes cost you £20. So if you buy a couple of
months supply in one trip, your travel costs are covered and you make a nice
saving on UK prices.
After a couple of hours shopping in Belgium and a spot of lunch on the
seafront, we'd point the SD1 back towards Calais. There are a number of
beer and wine "warehouses" in Calais stocking a wide range of the
falling over stuff. Even with the LPG tank behind the rear seat, I was
able to get 48 bottles of wine, 72 cans of lager and another 48 bottles of beer
into the boot on each trip. The back seat was crammed with our luggage and
Belgian purchases.
After the rather satisfying business of cheating the Chancellor of the
Exchequer out of some money, we'd visit some of the war museums or take the car
on a journey of discovery around the Pays de Calais. The nice thing about
French roads is that they are, for the most part, completely empty. The
coastal road to Boulogne Sur Mer was particularly scenic. In the evenings
we'd gravitate towards the
centre of town to enjoy a meal "al-fresco".
Now I'd like to report that Bob performed faultlessly each time. In
fact, the only problems that we had were relatively minor. On the first
trip I noticed that Bob had a slow puncture. A few frantic minutes on our
arrival at Dover were spent trying to find a Quick Fit or something before the
ferry left without us. On another trip, the dashpot cover on the nearside
carburettor had come loose. The car was very lumpy indeed and I
thought the engine was about to expire, but the fault was quickly identified and
repaired.
Our most recent trip was a two-day, there and back marathon in a newly acquired marvellous mystery machine. We drove to Dover on the Saturday staying in a Travel Inn, then an early rise on the Sunday morning and a dash to Belgium by mid-morning. Calais after lunch, home by teatime and back at work for Monday. Personally, I prefer the longer weekend trips as they are less frantic and allow more time to explore the continent. On this trip, however, things went a little awry at Customs. There we were, chatting to the Passport Control officer, but the next thing we know, we're being marshalled into a Customs hanger and the doors are closing behind us. A young female officer taps the side of the car and asks us where we've been. She takes our passports and asks to see in the boot. But we've done nothing wrong and our paperwork is in order, so we're sent merrily on our way. Until next time, perhaps...
Bob gets a puncture
Me at Dover 
Bob surrounded by Frenchies 