The journey from North Sydney, Nova Scotia, to Channel Port aux Basques, Newfoundland, takes about six hours. They are six hours of torture.

The ferry is designed to make life as uncomfortable as possible for anyone who isn't paying extra for a cabin or a special reclining seat. The only bench seats, on which one can lie, are located just outside the bar, from which issues the sound of indifferent folk singing or an awful juke box.

Ferry bad children

There is also a fat and grumpy young woman apparently employed to patrol the decks with a disagreeable child on a leash.

Every twenty seconds this little monster throws himself on his back and utters a blood-curdling scream. His mother, for it is she, answers this summons with a scream of her own. She then yells loudly at a second older and unleashed child, which is wisely attempting to escape. Finally the mother drags the smaller child to within sight of the video games room. He desperately rushes to the end of his tether in order to enter this beeping hell. His mother, yanking his leash the while, yells "Oh no you don't!" several times at the top of her voice, causing catterwauls to issue from her floored infant, before meekly allowing herself to be dragged in.

Another loud-voiced family, clutching large and noisy bags of crisps, settles beside us. Their youngest has a new toy, a model police car complete with siren and bullhorn-commands. He of course repeatedly presses the buttons on this awful invention , creating a nightmare mixture of sirens, Newfoundland accents, crunching crisps and cries of "Come out you're surrounded!"

We move.

Ferry bad food

The ferry also only caters for those wishing to clog their arteries with cholesterol and other gooey substances. There isn't a single vegetarian dish in the cafeteria, unless you count greasy fries. We realise suddenly how spoiled we are in the west, where B.C. Ferries often have two or three vegetarian dishes on the menu, and can offer non-meat versions of chilli and baked-potato dishes.

Even though it is dull and cold when we arrive, I am glad to get off this ship.

Argentia to North Sydney — we loose our potatoes

Ten days later we catch the Joseph and Clara Smallwood from Argentia back to Sydney, supposedly a 14 hour journey. First of all, however, we have our (unopened) bag of Prince Edward Island Potatoes confiscated — no-one told us that we weren't allowed to bring root crops into the rest of Canada from Newfoundland. This is, of course, a method of feeding the unfortunates of Newfoundland, though they say it is to prevent the spread of nematodes.

Ferry late

Next the ferry arrives and leaves two hours late (at 1.30am). We find a table to sleep beneath, and spend the night fitfully sleeping as the ship rolls and judders across a heavy swell. The next day is spent unavoidably involved in the funeral of Princess Diana, which is broadcast at full volume on both televisions in the lounge. About half way through it is announced that ferry is going to arrive 6 hours late. No explanations, no apologies. The hours plod past. Princess Di is driven up the M1 and is replaced by baseball. There is nothing to see except sea. Is there a doctor on board? asks the purser over the loudspeakers — someone has no doubt had too much and has decided to die. Face painting is twice arranged for the few chidren on board (thank goodness). We arrive in glorious evening sunshine and I am extra glad to get off that boat!!