Viva Espagna

28.11.07

We have finally embarked on the ferry. Our cabin is on the 6th level, pink corridors, carpets, doors and bedding, much to the girls' delight. We had a slap-up dinner, justified by the fact we no longer have to return to the UK half way through our trip, and went to see Pirates of the Caribbean in the onboard cinema. However, the rocking of the boat is too much for the kids, and Frida is sick seven times during the film. She fills four sick bags and we pile them up neatly in the corner, warm and heavy, for disposal after the feature. She is so brave and quietly heaves into her bags between scenes, pale faced and weak. We have the cinema to ourselves, and watch the film with growing confusion. It is so crap. It is turgid, boring rubbish and I sorely regret chosing to see it when we could have watched the sun go down over the Bay of Biscay instead. Afterwards we return to our cabin and I stroke her face til she falls asleep, then try to stop Silvie from her incessant chatter about the construction of the boat and the bunks, and the strength of it all. When she is still and quiet I look at her, in her bunk, and watch as her eyes glaze over and finally, slowly close, and she is asleep.

Mark and I pop out on deck, via the bar and cabaret, looking for the preferred route from Santander to Portugal. There are so many mountains and we worry about driving up them, and how slow we might have to go. But for the first few days we will chill, stay on the coast, maybe get a bit of good weather and take our time. The night is mild, we see the moon moving upwards the down again with the rocking of the boat, watch the white trail of the boat behind us marking out where we have been. We will be in Spain tomorrow, finally..