So strangely goes the time, and on the whole so quickly--though still I
seem to have been on board a week--that I am bumped, rolled, gurgled,
washed, and pitched into Calais Harbour before her maiden smile has
finally lighted her through the Green Isle. When blest for ever is she
who relied On entering Calais at the top of the tide. For we have not to
land to-night down among those slimy timbers--covered with green hair as
if it were the mermaid's favourite combing-place--where one crawls to
the surface of the jetty, like a stranded shrimp; but we go steaming up
the harbour to the Railway-station Quay. And, as we go, the sea washes
in and out among the piles and planks with dead, heavy beats and in
quite a furious manner (whereof we are proud), and the lamps shake in
the wind, and the bells of Calais striking One seem to send their
vibrations struggling against troubled air, as we have come struggling
against troubled water. And now, in the sudden relief and wiping of
faces, everybody on board seems to have had a prodigious double-tooth
out, and to be this very instant free of the dentist's hands. And now we
all know for the first time how wet and cold we are, and how salt we
are; and now I love Calais with my heart of hearts!

"Hôtel Dessin!" (but in this one case it is not a vocal cry; it is but a
bright lustre in the eyes of the cheery representative of that best of
inns). "Hôtel Meurice!" "Hôtel de France!" "Hôtel de Calais!" "The Royal
Hotel, sir, Anglaishe 'ouse!" "You going to Parry, sir?" "Your baggage,
registair free, sir?" Bless ye, my Touters; bless ye, my
commissionaires; bless ye, my hungry-eyed mysteries in caps of military
form, who are always here, day or night, fair weather or foul, seeking
inscrutable jobs which I never see you get! Bless ye, my Custom-house
officers in green and grey; permit me to grasp the welcome hands that
descend into my travelling-bag, one on each side, and meet at the bottom
to give my change of linen a peculiar shake-up, as if it were a measure