Superfast VIII - Silja Lines

We had decided that our mission was to get to Tallinn keeping to our overland plan, but getting there as quickly as possible. However waking up to the thought of getting on a 24 hour bus journey from Berlin, after the highs of the Nachtzug and Trenhotel, I was a little unenthusiastic. I shouldn't have worried, Alan was at work on the wi-fi and had discovered an alternative route over sea - as he put it, 'if we can just make our way to Rostock in Germany, there should be a boat every evening boarding at midnight and setting sail at five am'. Easy hurling - ok, so at 30 hours onboard, and a few to get to the port it would take longer than the bus, but a ferry? No complaints from me!

Unfortunately their website didn't have booking, so I was delegated the job of ringing, which was fine except that I wasn't sure what prefix to use and ended up having a bizarre conversation with an elderly German man who was most helpful yet confused as to why an Irish lady with a strange use of his mother tongue wanted him to book a cabin for her. Eventually I got through and they told me there was lots of availability, so we made our way to Berlin Hauptbahnhof and headed to Rostock.

At Rostock things were a little strange - the train station seemed to have no knowledge of the ferry terminal, and unhappily an unhelpful lady working at the ticketing helpdesk took great offence at my use of her beloved language. Anyway, her helpful colleague sorted us out and we got on a local (empty) train to the port. The train was odd, with the other four passengers on the twelve carriage train disembarking at the second stop and the driver sounding as though he fancied auditioning for a part in Scary Movie XII, softly and creepily announcing the name of each seemingly abandoned station. By the time the train rolled into the overgrown (seriously - knee high weeds) platform, I was panicking and Alan was talking me down off the ledge.

The ferry port was abandoned, and a light drizzle had set in, with what few lorries there were trundling toward the exit, the information area shut down and the cafés empty (and to my freaked out eyes derelict). For some reason, I marched ever forward, I'm not sure what towards or why. Alan followed in my stead suggesting helpfully that we stop for a minute to think, but onward I strode. Then, out of the rain shone a bright logo of a seal with the words 'Tallinnsomething' so I began to run, and Alan followed at a slower jog.

At the door the sign said 'closed at 05:00'. Given that it was ten past five, I knelt down and began pummelling the door. It was an automatic door which gently purred open and a waft of air-conditioned scented air and German efficiency swept out into the dark evening. A young man at a desk in an otherwise empty room sat poised waiting to sell tickets. We may have been the first customers he had seen in months.

After all the panic it took five minutes to buy our tickets, and we quickly realised that 05:00 means five am, i.e. it was just under twelve hours until the ship would set sail and we were alone in an abandoned ferry port until then, what to do? We spent the evening wandering around the port, going into Sailors supermarkets which stock only alcohol and jellies (bringing to my eye an image of Pop-eye swigging Vodka and haribo gummy bears simultaneously), eating Bratwursts in the only open café, playing hangman, xs and os - you get the picture! Of course Alan had great fun taking photos of abandoned ships and tall cement towers (artists, wha?)

And then we got on the ferry. It has a capacity for over six hundred passengers, but I reckon there was about fifty tourists and a hundred truckers on the Superfast VIII. Alan woke up for setting sail and took some photos - he said it was just himself and a conspiracy of early morning smokers on deck. We spent our time walking around deck, spotting ships, ferries and trawlers of which there were many, its a busy shipping lane. Time passes quickly on board - the overall feel was of a half abandoned 1970s hotel, reminiscent of Irish Ferry trips we had both taken with our families to France as children. To add to the feeling, there was a soundtrack of 1980s pop hits on loop in the bar - 'Heart'; 'Berlin'; 'Toto' - which was fine for the first day, but on the second we both wore iPods. An on board entertainer, hirsute and in a billowing black shirt and light coloured slacks interrupted with folk music at irregular unannounce intervals, and we found ourselves singing along to 'Country Roads' one night.

Arrival in Helsinki was brief, and we hope to go back over there tomorrow for the day, before setting sail again for Tallinn. On first impressions, Tallinn...but that's a story for another night.

xx

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