Journey From Patras To Venice

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The midnight ferry to Patras turned out to be an 11pm ferry to Patras once we actually decided to look at the tickets. Remember, by this time in the trip, we were truly chilled. We weren’t going to let little things like actual departure times play too much of a role in our planning.

Anyway, we were due to arrive at Patras at 10pm, so that was fine. Well, it would have been even finer were it not almost impossible to find the way into the port in Patras. After a wasted 20 minutes of driving around, getting stuck in traffic, reversing, cursing and other less-impressive driving tricks, we managed to edge our way alongside the Anek Lines ship that was to be our home for the next 34 hours, only to be told we needed to check in, new procedure for Ferry crossing for us, so another delay, running around like headless chicks, but eventually Onita came running out waving a check in sticker before we could board the boat.

The ferry was good, but not a patch on the Minoan equivalent (tip to anyone doing the same). It did have a swimming pool, but no other entertainment for the kids - not even a basic ball-pit or play-room. The cabin we were given had a blocked toilet, so after we resisted the crew’s helpful suggestion that we wander down the corridor to another toilet when needed, we changed cabin and ended up with probably the best cabin on the boat, with porthole to the port and front, ideal for an arrival in Venice.

The journey was otherwise uneventful, though Karl and his geeky ways did like the peep-peep of SMS messages along the way, welcoming us to Albania, then Croatia, etc. Small things, huh! Asha used the swimming pool, practicing her new techniques. Jay loved just watching the other boats in the distance. But the best fun of all, was the mini-Olympics we set up for the kids, down the cabin corridors. Long jump being a firm favourite, and a great way to keep them busy and moving for what was a very long day.

Arriving at Venice in the early morning was something to remember. The sheer volume of water-traffic was impressive, like a whole town moving around in the many different boats, water-busses, taxis and gondolas, to say nothing of huge cruise-liners or ferries like ours. Jay was in boat heaven! The route took us right past St.Marks Square, towards the “big boat” dock. The weather that morning was surprisingly grey, something we hadn’t seen for many, many weeks. Not unwelcome, a respite from direct sun, but a little unwelcoming. It didn’t last, however!

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