Prison? Student Halls? Isolation Unit? Man I am confused. Either way, feels like the big man has popped me on the naughty step to think about what I have done. For someone who used to panic in search for entertainment if the next train on the London Underground was over 3 minutes away, sticking me on a ship for two and half weeks smells to me to like one social experiment too far. I do however only have myself to blame and I dragged poor Amy into it. We have almost done a month on ships now, crossing both the Tasman and Pacific, and I would love to report that though meeting my mind head on has been difficult, it is certainty something everybody should do.
High point: Saturday night is party night and the crew had a BBQ for us on the deck, in the rain, with Christmas songs playing. Wonderfully random.
No point: Wondering what’s for dinner, it’s rice and probably something with cabbage.
Low point: Eating stir fried kidney thinking it was going to be a mushroom.
Most random meal on board: Mushroom brulee/soufflé that tasted of fish. I’m not saying the two are related but, the day that was on the menu, was the only day I was sick.
Lessons learned: Avoid mushrooms, they are evil.
Best chat:
Amy “I saw I seagull earlier, I forgot to tell you.”
Ping pong point: being beaten by the Super yet again, but not as badly as Steve, is a massive achievement I feel
Last night we hit a 10 metre swell. Not being accustomed sailors, to us the Le Mans Express sounded like she was going to come apart at the seams. As she moaned and groaned the creaking noise was deafening. And on top of that our cabin had become part of some freaky rollercoaster ride. People pay good money to experience that ‘scream if you want to go faster’ feeling, so why wasn’t I enjoying the cabin being tilted all angles and nearly failing out of bed every 2 minutes? Was this really how it was all going to end… in a tin can still only somewhere off the coast of Australia? Please no!
It was light when the sea finally calmed down and we could get some zeds. As they say, worst things happen at sea.
Boys like big stuff. Men love big stuff. Fact. The great ship Les Mans Express, though not the biggest ship on the sea is still massive.
Some quick fire stats for you : 168 metres long and 10 decks high. Top speed of 19 knots. Her diesel engine has over 15,000 horse power. She carries over 4,000 vehicles from Japan to Australia, NZ, Mexico then USA. To buy her would set you back $50,000,000
Today was a good day, it would have been a great day if it wasn’t for the fact that both Amy and I were proper green from sea sickness. After a little more than an hour of being up for the day Amy was sick, was it a record on this ship?
It was pretty creepy as we approached the port at dusk. The ship does not take passengers so it was all a bit confusing at port security. The two security chaps were equally confused as everyone else, so whilst we were waiting I settled in to a spot of Aussie bashing on the back of the 2nd test victory by England. Jan and Graham kindly waited as the paperwork was being sorted. After some fun and games with customs and the cargo coordinators, Amy and I stood at the edge of the water staring up at our ship, the Le Mans Express. There have been many surreal moments on this expedition thus far and this was right up there for being particularly odd. Eventually a nice chap in a van pulled up, we chucked our stuff in the back and he drove up the ramp and into the ship. Our home for the next 9 days. Up a tiny lift and we were 10 stories up on the upper deck. A long a corridor, door after door with all of the crew jobs titles on them, we were taken to our rooms. We were Wiper A and Wiper B, cleaners I think.
