There's nothing more hilarious than a monoglottist attempting to communicate with a foreign comrade using only the power of gesticulation, especially when there is the whiff of a liaisons étranger in the air. Its the sort of thing that would have Radio 4 listeners in stitches at 6:30pm on a Monday evening week after week, month after month, year after year. In this case, a prawn sandwich proved to be a mime too far, despite the eventual deployment of the, what I had previously assumed to be universal and thus fail-safe, wavy-fingers-above-the-head routine. The lady in question, I'm sorry to report, had eventually to content herself only with the Kent Crisps.
Onboard, there was no sign of the truck-driving hound I'd spied earlier in the queue. One assumes, but can never be entirely sure, that dogs do not have the same difficulty as humans in conversing. Success, one hopes, was therefore his due. Americans will tell you that a direct approach is never inappropriate but my instinct tells me that the Europeans will appreciate a more nuanced approach.
There was certainly no mistaking one young lady's intention as the port of Calais emerged from the murk of La Manche. She was out of here alright. As for me, there was no turning back. Au revoir l'Angleterre, bonjour l'Europe. Safe to say that, as a vegetarian, it is unlikely that I will be required to deploy the wavy-fingers-above-the-head routine.