Yesterday I loaded up the car with everything I wanted to salvage from Casa Marconi that I haven’t given away. All the basic furniture will be sold with the house. In the end there wasn’t much, though I couldn’t bear to leave my Beanie Baby collection behind. Jack’s guitar survived the cull too.
Then it was a quick hour’s jaunt down the scenic Via Aurelia with its classic Roman skyline of Mediterranean pines and cypresses to catch the Grimaldi lines ferry to Barcelona at 11 pm. The only other stop on the 22 hour trip is Porto Torres, Sardinia.
Excuse my national stereotyping, but catching a ferry where the passengers are overwhelmingly Italian and Spanish is a completely different vibe to either of the other overnight ferries I’ve taken this year (Stena Line to Holland and Northlink Ferries to Shetland). Everyone has come fully prepared with their own food for a start.
The Grimaldi trip costs roughly half the price of a comparable trip to Spain on Brittany Ferries. Most of the facilities and staffing levels are correspondingly half as good, though the cabin is fine.
A lot of passengers don’t have cabins and are crashed out on the few sun-loungers or blowing up air beds to sleep on deck. Speaking of which – there definitely isn’t enough seating on this tub.
Despite that, there’s a nice laid-back feel to cruising the Med on this dilapidated vessel, draped over the deck wherever you can find a space with nothing to do all day but look forward to arriving in Barcelona. It sure beats the two-day drive up through Italy.
The dog facilities are fine. There are two substantial loos, but Lottie and every other canine prefers to sprinkle the deck, which is a bit sticky in places.
Lottie seems to be enjoying the trip. It could be that she’s more used to ferries now, but I suspect it’s because there’s a lot more to interest her on this grubby boat, with lots of other dogs and plenty of scraps on the ground to scavenge.
I had a great night’s sleep because the sea was like a millpond until just before 6 this morning, when the boat started bucking around.
I decided to go up on deck after a challenging shower, and found a howling gale and stormy skies as we pulled into Porto Torres, Sardinia, with Corsica a distant outline on the horizon.
Thankfully the weather got slowly better as we headed for Barcelona and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky by midday.
Update: by 4 pm it was blowing an even stronger gale. If I was Hornblower, I’d have lashed myself to the mast. I actually saw a Yorkshire terrier become airborne.
If I’d harboured any illusions about sipping on a spritz as we cruised across the Med (I did), they’ve all been literally blown away. It’s still been a relaxing trip and I’m looking forward to regrouping at the Ibis Barcelona Santa Coloma hotel tonight before heading for Emma and Dom’s new place tomorrow.
2022 and all that 