Occasionally while staying in Ramsgate we would take a trip to France (Boulogne or Calais - I can't remember which). My other vehicle of choice for travel sickness was the ferry - something much smaller than the car ferries around now.
Neither newspaper nor pennies would do for mal de mer. Nan's first anti-nausea strategy at sea would be for us to sit on the open deck. I would then be instructed to look at the disappearing landscape; unfortunately my extreme short-sightedness had not yet been diagnosed - so horizon-spotting did not have the desired effect. By the time land disappeared we'd have blue lips and bloodless extremities; Nan would sigh and reluctantly say: 'We'll just have to go downstairs - nothing else for it!'
So down below deck into the smokey bar. Nan would order a medicinal brandy (generally a double) and I would have a fizzy drink. If the fizzy drink failed to still my churning stomach I would be given sips of brandy. It would be true to say that I have rather hazy memories of our French day trips.