Please note that this text was written by me and my mom in 2021, based on the journal written at the time by my sister, who was then 9 years old.
Up at six thirty, then a quick breakfast before the short trip to the Herentals railway station. Our neighbour is kind enough to drop us off, the bikes and bike luggage on an open trailer. We have to switch trains twice (once we only had 17 minutes to transfer) but everything goes smoothly.
In Zeebrugge we cycle to the port, it’s a bit hard because we’re not used to the cycling yet. We have to show our passport before getting on and wait in a long queue, but quickly we can park our bikes in a corner of the garage and head up to the deck. It’s a five hour trip to Felixtowe and we eat fish and chips on the way. When disembarking, my sister gets her bike tire stuck in one of the many groves of the gangway: it’s sturdy enough for cars but with a bike you have to be careful not to fall through the cracks.
We drive to the center of Felixtowe to inquire about the campings, the tourist office is closed but somebody points us towards the camping. We set up the tents, have dinner at the camping and go to sleep.
Febe writes 