Early starts – waking before dawn and attempting to pull luggage across loose bricks – is the worst. And that is exactly what six loud Americans did this morning at the ripe hour of 4:00 a.m. We stumbled around in the dark, managed to look semi-presentable, gathered our belongings, and made the brisk walk to the car, which was significantly closer than the twenty-five-minute hike through Venice with hefty luggage.

I was eager to take a nap in the turd on the way to the Euro Tunnel, and that is exactly what I accomplished … until the absolute best thing on this trip happened, and it has become the new family slogan. Let me paint the scene for you …

We arrived at the gates to the tunnel well before our departure time, and as we were checking in on the kiosk, we were offered an earlier train. So, instead of leaving on the 8:36 a.m. train to Dover, England, we were upgraded to the 7:50 a.m. train. Feeling like complete rock stars because something was finally going in our favor, we proceeded to border control. Now here is where my favorite thing occurred.

After waiting in the lengthy line of cars, we made it to the man at the counter and handed over our passports. This man decided to inquire into our personal lives, attempting to extract every bit of our life story. All I have to say is why … but I digress. Then my father decided it would be a fantastic idea to open the door, allowing the freezing cold air to infiltrate the car, while holding a conversation with the man who had a thick French accent behind the counter. They chatted, and we froze. But then, the Frenchman handed my eldest brother our passports after looking at our home country and said, “the states, baby [bae-bae]!” I died.

We laughed for the rest of the journey back to my brother’s house, taking turns saying this iconic phrase. Stay tuned for next year’s Disabella Family Christmas card because it is definitely going to be sporting that three-word gem of an English exclamation.

We entered the mile-long line for the 7:50 a.m. train only to find out that it was cancelled. We were then placed back on our original train, which we didn’t even make it onto because the train reached max capacity with the car placed two in front of the turd. We were then redirected and allowed access to a train that left after our originally scheduled time, but we made it back in daylight hours, which is a win in my book.

We made one pitstop for coffee – of course, and eventually, we made it back to my brother’s base where we got the chance to meet a few of his coworkers. They’re all hilarious and welcomed this crazy family like we were one of their own. But, before we were allowed passage onto the base, we first had to get passes. We climbed out of the turd, entered the building, and an armed member of security forces apparated behind us, questioning my father and sister about photos they took of the sign above the gate.

Ladies and gents we do not need to bail anyone out of military prison (that would have been quite the turn of events); so, for future reference, never take a photo of a highly secure gate at a military base. Also, fun fact, my father was a Tech Sergeant in the Air Force; he should have known better than to almost compromise national security. Thankfully, they didn’t actually break any laws and were just lightly scolded by the nice man in uniform.

All-in-all, today was pretty brief. It consisted of car rides and the semblance of a coffee high; so, that counts for something, right? Stay tuned for tomorrow’s trek to Edenburg, Scotland. I’m sure our six hour and fifty-minute ride will become an all-day affair. Until tomorrow …