Feb 2008

After the long haul from Melbourne, the tiring wanderings around stations, the struggle with luggage on trains and the eye-drooping wait for my ferry to come in, I was so ready for a bed and sleep, so finally the call to board was like a tonic that woke the senses.

The terminal to ship walkway at Harwich is still under construction so the meagre handful of waiting passengers are loaded onto a bus for delivery to the ferry. This is the first time I get a glimpse of the size of this thing, huge. I sailed to England in the 60’s on the Fairstar and I’d say it was just as big. Now, being a ferry that means it takes cars and trucks, so or bus followed the road up the ramp and into the bowels of this yawning whale. Out of bus and into a lift to take us to the eighth deck, out of ten, I think it was.

The small reception seemed inadequate for the size of the ship, but we were shown the way to our cabins and I rushed to rid myself of my luggage and unwind in my own space. We are handed a menu for dinner being served in the restaurant and for 12 euro there is a three-course on offer.

Not to miss out on what else this vessel has to offer, I quickly dumped the bags, a quick wash to freshen up the eyes and headed south to the next deck down. Here is the pumping heart of the floating village. There, spread over most of the deck is a restaurant, large duty-free shop, a bar, another food hall and for those with foreign money to get rid of, slot machines and gambling tables. If you are not in any hurry to kip there is also a full-sized cinema.

Checking out the restaurant, I opted for a cheaper range of food from food hall situated among the bar and gambling tables. Not a lot to choose from but ample. They took Pound and Euro, so I got rid of some English money. The number of passengers seemed larger as I realised that for every truck and car there is also a driver, but not being in holiday season, it was relatively empty. A Heineken at the bar went down so well I decided I like beer again, but this moment of relaxation reminded me that sleep was needed so I gave up the foreign film and headed back to my cabin.

The cabin has two bunks. I opted for the lower one just in case we come across rough weather and it allowed a better view out the window, yes, more a window than a porthole. It was dark of course at midnight as the ferry set sail. Unless you heard the revving of the engine you would not have guessed. But yes I can see the lights of the harbour passing by, so after a quick brush of the teeth, I turned the lights out and watched till the ship was out of the harbour and on the high sea, as smooth as can be.

The next thing I new was being woken by a loud voice over the cabin phone reminding everyone to get up, breakfast is served in the food hall and to get off the boat by 7.45. Obeying orders, I quickly showered, ate and left the ship behind.

I was now on Dutch soil.

We all know Australia is a big country, but it’s also a country furthest from most other countries and anyone flying to Europe will understand that a flight from Melbourne to London can take around 24 hours or more with a stop over somewhere along the way.

So my first day of travel is not about to break this tradition. Around 9 hours before a 2-hour stopover in Hong Kong, back on the plane for another 15 hours before finally landing at London’s Heathrow Airport with only a staggered 4-hour sleep even though the Hong Kong to London leg was half empty and I managed to have the centre five seats to myself.

My plan is, once in London, I’ll get to Harwich International to catch the overnight ferry to the Hook of Holland then train to Amsterdam the following morning.

All sounds reasonable and achievable one would think, but when travelling with a suitcase and backpack with laptop adding to the weight, things can quickly get out of any well-researched plan.

Now keep in mind a 24-hour cramped journey in a flying cigar with only 4 hours napping, the first of my waiting experiences came in getting from Heathrow to London. Opting for the cheaper Heathrow Connect (£6 and 45 minutes) rather than the Express train (£12 and 15 minutes), was acceptable since customs and collecting baggage was extremely fast and as I had a bit of time on my hands until about 7 o’clock to get the train to Harwich International.

Arriving at Piccadilly station, the destination for both airport trains, had me wondering should I stay here before catching the circle line train to Liverpool Station to connect with the Harwich train? The time was now 2.30pm so I decided to hang around Piccadilly station as there’s quite a lot of shops and food outlets here, not that I was hungry after being fed all the way from Melbourne, but it didn’t take long to get sick and tired of dragging around luggage that, even if on wheels, gets heavier the more weary one gets.

But I must admit that I could look at the architecture and detailing of stations of old for many hours as the more you look the more you discover. But after an hour you can only do the circuit of shops and endure the greasy smells of the food stalls for so long. With security as it now is in London, I must be beginning to look rather suspicious so I decided to get to Liverpool Station even if just for a change of scenery.

Now just to add a bit of a warning to those travelling with any sizable luggage of more than a briefcase of backpack, the trains from Heathrow cater to ones needs, but once in London you’re on your own as even a medium size suitcase can get in the way in the normal train system, so be prepared to stand in the doorway and out of everyone’s way who are getting on or off and be ready to move from the left to the right as not every departure is from the same side.

After another train trip of 45 minutes to get to Liverpool Station, I realised Piccadilly wasn’t that bad after all. Now, nothing against the station, it’s just as lovely but less to do while waiting.

And here’s another problem when dragging around luggage, getting to a toilet is not that easy as the one at Liverpool is down steps. Not all things modern are bad, I feel.

After a couple of wandering hours at Liverpool, I thought a beer may pass away a few minutes but here I get another lesson, it is now office closing time and where do a lot of workers go while waiting for their carriage home, you bet, the pub. It was packed and no room for someone with luggage and as I approached I could see in the eyes of all the patrons, there's no space here for me.

An announcement that a train to Harwich was about to leave at 17.05 made me check the timetable to see how often trains go there. As this one was the last direct express for two hours I decided to get on – another error of judgement. The train, of at least 20 carriages, was full so for the first hour I stood with my luggage at the door entrance, again. For a train servicing the International ferries, there was no facility for any luggage and the tight seating layout left little space between seats. After an hour and one of the few stops I finally got a seat for the last 30 minutes until it arrived at Harwich International station.

I was relieved at first that it seemed quite modern with direct undercover entry to the ferry terminal departure lounge. But I realised all my mistakes had come to bite me, all the food stalls, the very few there are, were closed. In fact all seemed to be closed and not a soul around. There was one man at the Stena Line counter so I checked in. He informed me that boarding was not till 9.45pm, another three hours away. This was going to be a long, drawn-out battle just to stay awake.

Next, my pleasure-cruise to Amsterdam…