Guest Editor

Apparently they are fashionable so we thought we’d join in. So, this entry is brought to you by Max, Mandy’s mum’s new puppy. Eight weeks old and cute as, well, an eight week-old puppy.

Today’s Guest Editor

Don’t be taken in by the innocent expression, there is mischief hiding right behind.

Being so young he has an, understandably, short attention span. So, as you can see, it’s time for something else now.

Shift Change

The cameraman had to move fast to prevent any accidents. 3 feet is an awful long way to fall when you are only six inches tall.

Max is now recovering from his over-work by having a nap on Mandy’s feet.

Ferry #1: Italy to Greece

When we were joining the dots on our map of the journey there were two givens; the ferry from Venice to Patras, and the ferry from Athens to Limassol. The second was non-negotiable, there was no other way to make the final jump to Cyprus with the car.

The first was practical more than anything – we could take the ferry from Italy to the west coast of Greece, or we could drive from Italy through Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia, Serbia and Macedonia to Athens. An extra five countries and 1,000 miles, or a day and a half on a ferry. OK, perhaps not such a tough choice.

It turns out that Venice is a huge start point both major cruise liners and for ferries. Having spent so long looking at Venice from the inside, it was strange to see it from such a different perspective.

Venice from the sea

We arrived at the departure dock on Sunday, having paid the required ransom for the car. As we searched for our ferry we had to acknowledge that, paperwork wise, this was one of the weak links of the trip.

We had a handwritten number on a 3×5 index card.

That was it – no printed confirmation, certainly no ticket, just a single six digit number which would, allegedly be the key to getting the car onto the ferry and us into a cabin. Of course that was just training for the angst of Ferry #2 but that’s a story for another day.

In the end, our concerns were unfounded. We handed over our precious number and were given tickets, in triplicate, in return. Ian and the car took two of the tickets and headed for the queue for entry to the car deck. Mandy picked up all of the bags and took the final ticket and went in search of the cabin. She was later heard to comment that she might have got the rough end of the deal and perhaps trying to shoehorn the car into the vehicle deck, in between a variety of articulated lorries might have been easier.

Travel companions for the car

Cabin found and bags stowed we headed off to explore our home for the next two days. When booking we’d had a myriad of options to choose from. Inside cabins, outside cabins, cabins for two, for four, with shower, camping on deck…….. camping on deck?

We were suitably baffled but, since there was no way that Mandy was going to agree to camp on deck we ignored it. However, as soon as we started exploring the Sophocles all became clear. People were, well, camping on deck. These would be the people who had been queuing to board whilst holding cool boxes, pillows and in some cases camp beds.

It seems that some people who take this route regularly see no reason for a cabin, and sleeping on deck is much cheaper. Actually, paying to sleep on deck but then camping out in the stairwell, the corridors and the lounges seemed to be the order of the day. With the amount of organisation that some families had gone into they may have been more comfortable than we were. Once the prime corridors had gone people began picking suitable spots on the deck. Whilst it was warm and sunny during the day the temperature was due to drop at night so sheltered spots were much prized.

We had found a quiet corner outside and were sitting enjoying the view when it became apparent that we were occupying a prime spot. A family of four moved their belonging to right next to our chairs. They then inflated the air beds, fluffed out the sleeping bags and pulled pillows out of bags. When their belongings started to get piled at our feet we took the hint and left them to it.

Camping on deck

Class Distinctions!

We had the option of two ferry services. Different ferry lines, slightly different speeds and therefore journey times, but essentially the same service. Over the course of the trip we passed, or were passed by the other ferry several times. Their ability to do three-point turns at sea is impressive!

Catching up with the other ferry

The trip itself was relatively uneventful. We left Venice early on Sunday morning and eventually arrived in Patras late on Monday night, having stopped off in Corfu and Igoumenitsa.

No, we’d never heard of Igoumenitsa either. A little research established that it used to be a pretty fishing village on the west coast of Greece. It is now the western-most end of the Egnatia motorway which runs through Greece as far as the border with Turkey. Considered to be the most expensive construction project in modern Greek history, the motorway when completed is expected to have cost €6 billion. When we docked dozens of lorries off-loaded and headed to the start of the motorway – about a quarter of a mile from the harbour entrance.

Almost there – Dusk over the Greek coastline

Finally, we sailed into Patras. By now it was late and, considering that we’d done nothing constructive for the last day and a half, we were tired. All we needed to do was to do now was to load the car, get off the ship and find our hotel for the night …..

….. You’ve probably read enough of this blog to know that things didn’t go quite that smoothly. But, have you ever known anyone get trapped on a vehicle deck of a ferry with 40 degree temperatures?

No, thought not ;-)

Isn’t Technology Scary?

Tom, Ian’s 15 year old son, is in a band. Last month they played London’s 12 Bar Club and a clip of one of their set is on YouTube.

Tom, all in black, is the guitarist on the right. The video, for those who’s eardrums need a clean-out, is here. This is probably not suitable for an open plan office with your speakers turned up!

The Budgie and the Olive Tree

Life here is sometimes just strange.

It’s the third of January, the first non-holiday of the year. The children are not yet back at school. I am nursing a post-Christmas bug so at 10:30am was still lounging around in PJs and a, colour-coordinated, Christmas pashmina nursing a cup of tea whilst catching up with the world.

The children from the nearest house are encouraged by their mother to play outside. They have several default volumes starting just below ear-splitting and increase from there. I can see why she would be keen to have them out of the house from time to time. Sitting at my desk I could hear their communal volume increasing and a new intensity in their “play”. Looking into the garden several of them were visible climbing over our back wall so I went to investigate.

Remember the PJs and the pashmina? Well, I added a pair of blue & green outdoor flipflops, just to coordinate. The children weren’t looking for a football, as I first thought, they were gathered round our olive tree.

I looked confused. They pointed and flapped their arms and clubbed together their English to come up with bird.

Cue more confusion from me. It’s an olive tree, it’s always got birds in it.

They countered with bafflement that this strange English woman could not see the bright yellow budgie perched on one of the branches. Fair point, now that I’d spotted it, it really was quite obvious.

Their English and my Greek were not sufficient to ask if this is an escapee from the neighbours or whether this was some sort of exotic visitor. Actually, the language issue was irrelevant as they ignored me while one of them climbed the tree to try and capture the budgie. The bird was having none of this and as soon as he got close it flew away.

The children were last seen chasing across the village following the bird. I suspect it may be a long day for all concerned!

Mands

BTW, Ian missed all of this. If someone were to drop him an email this morning asking about his new feathered-friend it could be quite interesting ;-)

Venice

So, from Hotel Heaven on to Venice.

This was a slightly odd bit of the trip. On paper it made absolute sense to spend time in Venice but Mandy was, well, indifferent. However, we needed to be in Venice early on Sunday morning to catch Ferry #1 and she’d never been there so she was a bit thin on decent arguments to stay anywhere else. So, she did the obligatory hotel search and booked us into a place near to the Jewish quarter.

We left Hotel Heaven, reluctantly, and drove East towards Venice. Then, just a quick trip over the causeway and into the biggest car park in Europe. Amazing the stuff that you find in these guidebooks! The car was parked – or ransomed considering the cost of a couple of nights in this place – and we headed off to catch a vaporetto to the hotel.

It turned out that the stock room photo that the hotel used to show how grand and spacious their rooms were (a likely story – this is Venice you know) was the one that they’d put us in. Really, a king size bed, spare chaise long and more cherubs and gold leaf than was strictly necessary.

Absurdly opulent hotel room

The hotel turned out to be perfectly placed for hopping on vaparettos and exploring Venice.

So we did, all weekend. And Mandy loved every minute of it ;-)

We did the usual touristy things, including a visit to the island of Murano, home of the glassmakers of Venice. Whilst Mandy was ogling a hand-painted vase a salesman was calculating his commission, seeing an easy sale. Our glib response of Sorry, driving to Cyprus and there’s no spare room in the car was countered, very quickly, with an offer to ship the vase anywhere in the world for an extra €40, complete with insurance so that if it was damaged in transit they would replace it free of charge. We came close to giving in but escaped with the credit card intact.

Handmade Murano glass vase

Apart from the Murano trip we worked our way across Venice, periodically bumping into crowds of Brits watching England exit the World Cup. We visited St Mark’s, ate pasta and generally acted like tourists. The pace was entirely different to the previous couple of stops and we probably wouldn’t have enjoyed it quite so much if we hadn’t had the peacefulness of Lake Garda.

Anyway, early Sunday morning saw us checking out of the hotel and heading off in search of Ferry #1.

Obligatory photo of the Rialto Bridge