Only one person in the office where I worked had ever driven abroad before and he said that if I was to drive three hundred and fifty miles in one day I would have stay in bed the next day to rest. Great We had to drive upwards of fourteen hundred miles plus four ferries (the last being an eleven-hour journey) in three days. The ferries filled me with dread as my only two sea excursions were a fishing trip in Brixham Harbour along with a Lulworth Cove fiasco, both times ending up with me being seasick. So, it was that late evening in the second last week of June 1965 I started my first European trip in my little yellow mini.