where art collides philosoperontap

There are four walls and a forward facing window. It’s a premium cabin on board the Ben My Chree. Out of Douglas for Heysham. Sounds like a racehorse but it isn’t. It’s a boat. Not a ship, a boat. It’s the passenger ferry from the Isle of Man. We are on it. In fact we are ensconced in our luxury cabin relaxing. All is quiet. The World Athletic Championships are on the TV and each family member is either quietly watching, reading the paper or buried in their laptops. Or both buried in laptop and watching the athletics. It’s easy enough to do. There are lots of gaps between races and lots of repeats of races, analysis, interviews and a look forward to the next round, heat or episode.

It isn’t particularly accurate to use the word episode. It isn’t as if track and field is like a soap opera or documentary, although the material may be there. “Shock off field antics of top runner”. “Athlete in for the high jump” etc. Athletes should not have the time to mess about off field. They need to stay focussed. Keep off the booze. And the fags. Live a healthy lifestyle.

That isn’t to say they shouldn’t enjoy themselves. A bit of relaxation does you a bit of good. Helps the performance on the track. The occasional trip to the cinema on a Wednesday night. Visits to the seaside and a nice walk along the promenade. No ice creams though. Yueuch. No good. Think of the calories. Bad calories. Have fruit instead.

My personal preference is for peaches, when in season, and bananas. I also like strawberries and cream though I am not an athlete and therefore don’t need to stay clear of the cream. Unless you talk to my wife. Mrs Davies.

This boat is comfy enough. The sea is calm. The sky is cloudy. We are just passing some sort of oil rig. Gas maybe. I don’t know. This luxury cabin is in marked contrast to a day trip to Liverpool many years ago. “The lads” were off on a day out. On the way there everyone spent the time in the bar, except me. I was seasick. When we arrived in Liverpool the outgoing boat had a bomb scare and had to return to the quay. In consequence there was no room for our boat and we had to stay mid river for two hours whilst they checked out the other one for bombs.

That was the last thing I needed having spent the whole crossing being ill. We got to Liverpool and set off for the shops. The we hit the fair at New Brighton where everyone except me indulged in more beer and ice cream. Finally before getting back on board the boat we had a meal at a restaurant near Pier Head. Steak.

Most of the afternoon I had spent recovering from the outward journey. I was now just starting to feel good again as we boarded for the return trip. I spent the trip home in the bar whilst the boys were ill over the side! It was an experience!

When we travelled on the boat as a family we always booked a cabin. It’s a lot easier to survive bad weather if you are lying down. When I left home and used to travel across to University at the beginning and end of each term a cabin wasn’t an economic prospect. Instead all the students used to get on early and head for the bowels of the boat where there were benches you could stretch out on. The first few trips were extensions of the parties we used to have after the school exams. Term for most people started and finished at the same time so there was always a quorum of people you knew on the boat. We would head for the bar and while away the trip with a few beers.

Gradually as people became established at their places of higher education the number of familiar faces on the boat gradually dwindled to zero and the focus grew on surviving the often rough Irish Sea weather.

I recall one end of term when I turned up at Pier Head on a Friday night for the midnight boat. The midnight boat was a good one to catch. It went a lot more slowly and you could kip overnight. I had my usual sausage and chips in the caff at the bus station at the Pier and then wandered down to the boat.

Problem. There was no midnight boat. The boat was there but it wasn’t sailing until the next morning. These were the days before the internet. You couldn’t simply go online and check the schedule. The problem was exacerbated by the fact that Pier Head in those days was pretty rough place to be of an evening. I could hear sounds of violence.

I chatted with the bloke at the top of the gangplank who, recognising my dilemma, took an executive decision and let me on board. This was “highly against regulations” but needs must. I spent the night in my sleeping bag in one of the passenger lounges. The cleaning ladies who turned up the next morning had a bit of a shock when I lifted my head above the seat to see what the noise was. Hey. A student’s gotta do what a student’s gotta do.

Travelling in those days was far more adventurous than it is now. I often used to hitch hike places, including to see my grandmother who lived about 200 miles away in South Wales. My longest hitch was from Greece to London but that’s story in itself.

Considering that the internet wasn’t around for much of my adult life and therefore the Third Law cannot have applied it has all gone quickly enough.

3rd Law Part 59 here

3rd Law Part 61 here