Having left Portland, we travelled on to Plymouth to catch the ferry.
The English countryside looked at its beautiful, uncluttered best.Admittedly there were a few lowering clouds, but for a moment I honestly couldn't recall why we were going abroad for our summer holidays.
Beautiful and uncluttered? Who was I kidding?In any case, we were fairly quickly on board the ferry to Santander (Brittany Ferries Pont Aven, probably the largest boat we have ever sailed on). England was rapidly falling far behind us.
The ferry was full of middle-aged bikers from the West Country. Whether they were really Hell's Angels or just hairy, leather-clad men (and a few women) was beside the point. There were a lot of them (and each one of them was also quite large in their own right).
Actually, so far as I could work out, they were reasonably well behaved. And they certianly improved the takings at the bar...
The journey time is just over aday (our cabin was super). I never did get my sea legs, despite the fact that the Bay of Biscay was astonishingly calm and unruffled.
I'm afraid as a result I hid below, and didn't even try to spot whales or dolphins.
I did see this lighthouse early on. though. It seemed very lonely.
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