Took my chances on a big ferry

28.9.10


The open sea, somewhere between Ireland and Wales (Rosslare Europort and Fishguard)


This morning, at 09:00 GMT, Sean and I boarded a giant ferry headed for the sunny shores of Wales. Actually, our Captain-cum-weatherman informed us that we're heading into a rainy abyss of sorts. Good thing I packed a rain jacket! But too bad I sold it to feed my raging gambling addiction.

Word of advice, if you ever conceive a plan to travel overseas for an extended period of time, make certain that you are free from any and all gambling vices. Like Gloria of Destinos fame, and the subject of "House of the Rising Sun," you, too, will fall victim to the deadly venomous bite of the Juegos Adder if you are not careful. Only you can prevent gambling-related forest fires, and, as you only die once, make it a good, noble death!


Now, all trivial and meaningless advice aside (you must understand, I just had to fit in one Destinos reference), let's return to what is at stake at the moment. Sean and I are currently on the biggest vessel either of us have ever boarded. The waves are fairly high, so the Captain-cum-Star-Trekker was forced to turn on the "stabilizers," whatever that might entail. I hope it has nothing to do with lacing all our food with antidepressants and everything to do with creating a force field using the Captain-cum-Spiritmaster's own life force. How valiant!

Upon our arrival in Wales, Phil and Kay, two friends of Paul and Deb (themselves two good friends of the Gosewisch clan) who are vacationing within minutes of the ferry port, will be taking us in and giving us a place to shower. It has now been too, too, too long (as opposed to the "barely tolerable" status of yesterday) since we last showered. We have crossed some invisible but potent threshold that serves to separate men from beasts, which might explain why people are cowering in fear and offering up their firstborn sons if they just please might be left alone. Frankly, we're running out of room and patience for these toddlers; have you any idea just how many apples you must peel to feed a horde of tots? Dozens wouldn't suffice! These babies are ravenous! We secretly fear for our lives.

Speaking of commentary within travelogues, Sean and I went above deck earlier, where the rough open seas sparked a peculiar thought: Did Magellan and his contemporary travelers keep travelogues of their circumnavigatory journeys? I bet most of those entries must have been occupied by comments such as, "No bread again. Carlos said he found some bread in the bedpans, but he was just playing a trick on me. I think I'll search the shoes again." Or something along these lines: "How many times can a crew mutiny in five hours? I keep telling them I'll turn this ship around if they mutiny one more time, but it only seems to drive them on." And there's always this bit: "Thought I saw a woman today, but Francisco was just wearing the mop on his head. And the smallpox-induced delusions don't help."

In a few days, we'll have time to do a full and proper recap of Ireland, rife with pixx and flavor text galore. Until then, we'll just be sailing toward glory, using some satellite-derived wifi and sipping of the finest Prozac-and-tonics this side of the Mississip' (is that phrase still valid?).

Keep on 'venturin'! You only die once!