I was last on a ferry circa 1998. Back then, I was a 15 year old, en-route to a holiday in France with my parents and sister. It was the last of our traditional run of long summer breaks in France, where we would always catch a ferry over, our car heavy under the weight of multiple tents, bikes and far too many clothes (teenagers don’t travel light).

My memories of the numerous crossings over the years are rosy; the excitement of seeing the ferry looming before us, running down the long corridor to find our cabin, eating breakfast looking at the sea – it was all part of the holiday experience. It was like our break didn’t properly start until we arrived at the port.  Continue reading »