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A voyage of Titanic proportions

Forget Kate and Leo, we’re the true high-sea-stars

overcast 20 °C

(Sountrack option: For full effect, start playing Celine Dion My Heart Will Go On immediately.)
It didn’t start off well. It was more than a little breezy when we boarded the SNCM ferry for our five-hour crossing from Nice to Ile Rousse in Northern Corsica. We became a bit more concerned when, even with our not-so-great French we managed to understand the announcement that told us we would have to sail to another port instead as the winds were too strong to get to our original destination. But it wasn’t until we left the relative shelter of Nice harbour we began to realise our predicament. It. Was. Rough. Waves smashed against the side of our vessel as we rolled and slithered about in the high seas. It may sound like I’m over-dramatising, but I kid you not. Approximately half the boat proceeded to chuck up their croissants and café cremes. We, thankfully, were spared the horrors of losing our lunch, but were seated next to a dapper-looking French chap who tore his way through the sick bags, hurling loudly, then proceeding to act as if nothing had happened. In a strange turn of events, he kept each sickbag on his lap like little trophies. Smelly ones. Mike, still recovering from The Big Race, managed to snooze in his seat, rocked to sleep by the tidal waves. I on the other hand gripped my chair with white knuckles and tried to block out the sound of vomiting by watching The Devil Wears Prada in French on one of the tiny TV screens. The glamorous Meryl Streep seemed oddly out of place aboard our Titanic-style ship.
Five hours later, we lurched in to a fetching little port called Calvi to the sound of rain beating on the ferry roof. Aah, summer holidays eh! Oh, and just to prove I wasn’t over-exaggerating the whole affair, our journey of doom actually made the newspapers, and they cancelled all other crossings for the rest of that day and all the next. See. (Stop Celine now before she bursts something).
FERRY_.jpg The fateful ferry trip (before Mike drifted off to sleep and left me to deal with it alone)

Posted by millie t 12:33 Archived in France

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