2009 Entry # 6: Atlantic Crossing…

Following our visit to Boston, we sailed off into the east. It took us another couple of days to really get clear of North America, such is the vast expanse of the world’s second-biggest country, Canada. (So, which is the biggest? Answers at the end of this entry.)

Already, the skies and seas were turning grey and so they stayed. The North Atlantic has a reputation for being, well, grey. The waves were choppy and the temperature dropped. There were plenty of spare deck chairs around the swimming pool. We spent our days playing cards, reading and attending (and occasionally winning) the twice-daily quizzes. We have mixed feelings about ‘sea days’. J loves them. Put her on a ship with a view of the water and she’s happy. I get a little restless – I prefer port days - and wasn’t much looking forward to our six days on the ocean between Boston and Ireland. In the event, it passed quickly enough.

After the grey, wet and windy days at sea, we were surprised to find that Ireland was grey, wet and windy. It didn’t matter too much. We docked in the small port of Cobh (pronounced ‘Cove’) and, while some of our fellow travellers went off to Cork and Blarney Castle, we hung around the town. The residents of Cobh had decided that August 25th was ‘Australia Day’ and that they should make a big fuss on account of the fact that many Irishpersons had emigrated to Australia (and New Zealand, they occasionally added) and it was the first time a cruise ship from Australia had returned to the port.

So, despite the weather, there was a programme of musical entertainment beside the water and a host of interesting characters around the pubs. We decided, with various Australian comrades, to sample Guinness and discovered it tasted better straight from the barrel than it did out of bottles that had travelled half-way around the world. Some locals recommended we try Beamish stout, which is brewed in Cobh (so they said: it could have been brewed in downtown Kinshasha for all we knew). Beamish didn’t, in our humble and slightly inebriated opinion, taste quite as good as Guinness but it was nice enough. And it was cheaper.

So, it was a pleasant day. By late afternoon, we were back on board the ship. The sun began to shine and it actually got warm. The inhabitants of the town came down to the dock en masse and a brass band played. People on the ship sang songs. People on the shore sang songs back. Somebody started the Aussie cheer (an intricate little number which goes ‘Aussie, Aussie, Aussie, oi, oi, oi, which may not sound like much but does demonstrate that Australians can be trained to perform simple tasks). We responded with bellows of ‘Kiwi, Kiwi’.

The ship sounded its horn and pulled away. Cobh-ians filled the streets and hills to wave at us. We sailed down the wide river into the sea bathed in sunshine. It had all worked out rather nicely.

Next day was a sea day again. This time, though, there was rather more to see than sea. Although we were headed for France, we sailed past Land’s End and The Lizard. The sight of England brought a small lump to my throat. I’ve often been unsure whether I’m a Kiwi or a Pom. I’ve decided I’m both and proud of it.

The next day we docked in the French port of Le Havre. Le Havre is in Normandy: despite travelling fairly extensively in France, this was new territory for us. We practiced our Gallic shrugs (somewhat rusty since our last visit) and made our way ashore.

Le Havre’s reputation is dull, especially by French standards. Bombed heavily during the second world war, it was rebuilt to the designs of an architect who believed that concrete could be shaped into something artistic. With another couple, we hired a car (a Lancia, believe it or not, the first I have ever driven) and headed for the motorway.

Our first stop was Rouen, about an hour inland. Readers will know that we are both great Francophiles but Rouen still amazed us. And continued to amaze us, every time we walked down one of its narrow streets and round a corner. This place has three magnificent Gothic cathedrals dating as far back as 1100-something. More recently, somebody thought ‘three isn’t many cathedrals, is it?’ and built another, modern one.

Besides monuments to monumental masons, the city has a wealth of medieval buildings, including many colourful and crooked houses. We bought baguettes and fruit and ate lunch in the city plaza (shrugging expressively). The hour we planned to spend there stretched to three.

Finally we moved on and ended up back on the coast in Honfleur, which is almost indecently attractive. Its glory is a small boat harbour which is surrounded by more medieval houses, pubs, the strangest church we’re seen in a long time and numerous bars and cafes. (Photos will be published when we finally get home.) We drank coffee, watched people, did more shrugging.

Finally, it was time to return to the ship. We had to be back by 7pm or it would leave without us, which would be slightly inconvenient. I left my usual contingency time for things going wrong and we set off. This final step on the day’s journey went well. We arced over a beautiful suspension bridge and then another which curved dramatically sideways as it went up. Things were still going well. But France has this strange pull on us. The GPS we’d rented told us to take the next right. We obeyed. We found ourselves on a motorway headed for Paris. The GPS, said, ‘don’t worry, take the next exit in x kilometres’. We reached the next exit. It was closed. We carried on, in exactly the wrong direction.

Finally we got turned round and hurtled back to Le Havre, much of our contingency time now gone. We could see our ship. We sighed in relief. We then discovered that the helpful locals had blocked off the road leading to the ship. A helpful woman told us it would be much easier to walk to the ship than drive (which we had to do to return the hire car). She gave us complicated directions. We followed them and found the next road along had been closed. Our Gallic shrugs were starting to look less convincing.

Eventually, we found a track that led to the dock and made it to the ship with several seconds to spare. We threw the car keys at the rental car guy, scrambled on board and headed to the nearest bar.

Despite which… It was a great day and we still think France is just about the best country on earth. The last day of our 2009 cruise turned out to be eventful, a tad stressful, but magical.

So, it’s now our last night on board. We have spent much of the evening so far packing. (We are currently 5 kilograms overweight on our luggage so something needs to go. I suspect it will be my shoes and clothes…) Tomorrow it’s Southampton and an early start. We get ashore, find a Hertz depot, hire another car and head north in search of members of the clan. Then it’ll be Manchester airport and a massive trip back to NZ. With that cheerful thought, we sign off our 2009 travel blog. Hope you enjoyed it…







PS The world’s biggest country is Russia. We know this because it was the subject of a quiz question. Mind you, given the reliability of the ship’s quizzes, you might do well to check it yourself.