Up early knowing a long day of travel. Do I head south through France to Spain or head north to England and Scotland home of my ancestors? I did a coin toss and fate has determined north I go. I took the Paris Metro as far north as I could and that left 180 kilometres to go. I had a 4 kilometre walk to get to the highway and sticking out my thumb goodness knows where this adventure will take me. My first ride was with a guy in a green car and he left me off in a small farming village. There was a bakery and small grocery store so lunch was half a loaf of bread, sardines, vanilla cake and water. The next lift was with a guy who drove like a maniac as he had a bad toothache and was in a rush to get to his dentist. Next lift was with a father and son and the last one was a young guy on his way to Dieppe and he was nice enough to take me to the waterfront. I bought a ticket on the ferry to Newhaven across the English Channel but had some time to walk along the beach quite amazed by the old crumbling German pillboxes. I reached Newhaven at 10 p.m. and Customs did not even look at my passport. I met a couple of young blokes Mike and Steve and my goodness at an English pub for a couple of pints of really good British beer. This pub was the cozy sort of one you see in movies with men in white wool sweaters puffing on pipes. Strange being in Europe and hearing English spoken. Well Steve and Mike said I could stay in their tent for the night so we wended our way home and crashed out.