Ker-clunk. Twenty fourth stamp in my passport and waved straight onto the ferry. I pick up my phone from the floor next to my inflatable pillow. It’s 02:38. Is that French time or UK time? Oh hang on, phone isn’t displaying home and away times, it must be UK time. Open Google Maps, blue dot on a pale blue background, zoom out… further, outline of Beachy Head appears at the top of the screen. Realise I don’t remember leaving Dieppe. Must have been asleep for well over three hours. My back aches, stretch out a bit, tiny twinge of cramp in my left leg. Drag myself up into the chair, pour the remainder of a bottle of Orangina, no longer cold, into the paper cup. Second night in a row of sleeping on the floor of the midnight ferry. Need a pee. Where are my shoes? Too old for this shit. Headwind over the cliffs to home in the dark. Deep bass trembles out of Volks, clubbers chat and snog on the pavement. Swerve a drunk lad in the cycle lane. Turn the key in the front door. Climb into my bed. Hungry. Should’ve stopped at the 24-hour Maccy D at the marina.