I had been on a ferry before – to Essel World. I knew all about ferries, I thought. In any case, what was to know? Five hundred people on a boat that could accommodate about three hundred, all carrying fish and other things I did not want to identify. That was what we were prepared for.
Like vagabonds, having roamed the streets of Bari all day, we reached well in time for our ferry to Greece. We were tired and dirty, waiting to reach Greece and have a much-needed bath.
Then we saw the ferry.
It was not a ferry in my dictionary. It was not even a ship; it was a SHIP.
We felt almost untouchable on that ship, gaping at it like villagers. There was a red carpet and an escalator. There were lounges (in the plural), a Mariners’ Club, a swimming pool, a gaming zone, ‘playland’ for children, a cafe, bars…
We mustered what confidence we could to get onto the boat like scruffy stowaways. And we had a bath.
Feeling much better, we wondered: if this was a ‘ferry’, what on earth (or on the sea) was a luxury cruise?