After a very tranquil stay
at Les Tomasses (so much so, if we get the boat back from Sardinia to Toulon
we’ll likely head back) we drove off to the port, via the free motorway (A57) and
taking in a nearby supermarket to stock up with food and drink almost certainly
cheaper than we’ll find on Corsica.
Having seen a giant
Carrefour from the motorway and followed the first sign off it to the ‘centre
commercial’ we were amused to find ourselves still driving a good 20 minutes
later, having navigated at least 20 mini roundabouts feeding various parts of a
truly enormous set of retail outlets!
Provisioning done, we were
grateful we’d left plenty of time as the traffic slowed to a crawl as we hit
rush hour on our way into the port. After being directed to the correct queue
for Ajaccio, we were surprised to see another, larger one and rammed with
camper vans, all heading to Sardinia on a boat due to leave about the same time
as us. Maybe they knew something we didn’t!
The boats looked enormous as
we queued, no doubt to do with volumes of traffic and distance compared to our
short hop across the channel – they certainly looked impressive in their
splendid livery of canary yellow, complete with the ‘moors’ head’ logo of the
Corsican flag.
Although we were near the
front of the queue of vans when we arrived, we were almost the last vehicle to
be loaded after the heavy freight and cars. And as we neared the entrance to
the boat we were surprised to see vans being meticulously measured for length
and height, with some being pulled over. We’d not seen this before and glad
we’d been honest in the self-declaration of our own vehicle dimensions! The
sense of righteousness soon disappeared though as we saw that all the last
vehicles to be loaded were being directed to reverse up the ramp and were
disappearing between lines of heavy goods vehicles! Speaking to the yellow clad
crew member guiding us backwards with one hand on the rear view mirror and the
other gesticulating to go faster, it soon became clear he was Italian – or, not
Italian, but from Napoli! We’d seen how Sicilians often saw themselves as not
Italian, but this was the first time someone from the Italian mainland had
declared it!
Safely parked up and
memorising our location as we headed up to the seventh deck to find reception,
the scale of the boat soon became apparent, with swimming pools and multiple
restaurants – more cruise liner than ferry based on our experiences to date!
After reception had explained that our cabin was on the eighth deck, and being
guided in by another Italian speaking steward, we were pleased to see that our
booking had worked and we had indeed got a porthole to look out of!
We’d packed a picnic and as
we wandered around the boat deciding where to eat it, we were struck by the
variety of ways other passengers were going to spend the night: some in the
noisy and cold area with the bookable Pullman seats (not very comfortable);
some just kipping on various bits of floor; and some, including a guy next to
where we’d chosen to have our picnic, imaginatively occupying a curved but
comfy seating area in the bar – complete with live music and piped music
competing with one another!
Glad that we had the
relative peace and comfort of our cabin to go to for the remaining 9 hours, we
enjoyed the picnic and people watching as more folk were clearly casting around
for a place to kip for the night. And as far as the crew were concerned, it
didn’t really seem to matter where people opted to sleep – or eat, with some,
like us tucking into food and drink they’d brought on board, and others
ordering from the bar.
The cabin, with its single
beds, air con and en-suite with hot shower was well worth the extra cost, and
although it wasn’t the best of sleeps, it was good enough and we were ready for
the 0600 announcement that we were almost at Ajaccio, if not for the martial
music that played for the entire dis-embarkation process!
Waiting patiently with other
vehicle drivers on the stairwell to our level (seven levels down) we were
surprised that the people at the chain barring our way didn’t remove it when
the announcement came (as the chain had a sign in three languages saying to
descend once the announcement had been made to go to the garage deck). Perhaps
like us, they’d only experienced ferries where a crew member has this job, but
we were eventually saved by a passing staff member. And of course, most of the
rest of the vehicles had gone by the time we got to the van, with us and two
other campers holding up loads more vehicles further into the bowels of the
boat!
After a quick and easy exit
off the boat, we made our way across Ajaccio looking for somewhere to stop and
have breakfast. And so, because Corsica is still France, it wasn’t long before
we saw a bunch of camper vans that had clearly stayed the night in an old car
park near the port, and we pulled in to have an early breakfast and plan our first
driving route on the island – to visit the famous menhirs (standing stones) at
Filitosa in the south.
S&J
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