Ferry Godmother
Knowing I have a train to catch fills me with joy. Rail stations are always a fascinating hive of activity, people and machines on the move. Some stand out, most blend in. The human zoo in all its glory. I take great pleasure in observing the madness while turning inwards and entering what I call the nothing zone. One of my favourite places. I make this deliberate transportation choice and once on board I cherish not having to do anything in particular. Just sit and take it all in. No agenda, just partaking in the simple pleasure of being for as long as the ride lasts.
I feel similarly about seaside transit points. Be it a bustling ferry port, or a pier that receives just one vessel a day but otherwise lazes in the elements. I’m mesmerized by boats of all sizes coming and going; the goods, people and stories they carry. Each on their own schedule yet functioning within a greater picture.
While on my recent research dig I took boatloads of boats and I likened my experience to taking trains in other parts of Europe. Catching a ferry always feels somewhat exotic, something you don’t do every day. Except when find yourself in a place where it’s the most natural thing in the world: coastal Croatia.
Ferries are the trains of the Adriatic. Plowing the glittering sea you’ll find anything from passenger catamarans to large-scale car ferries, comfortably connecting the mainland with its gorgeous offshore outposts. There is a palatable sense of excitement in the salty air when a ship arrives in port, as people rush to disembark and others eagerly wait their turn to board. There is beauty in this organized chaos. Welcome and farewell, ebb and flow.
When I smell the tantalizing scent of the sea I get this urge to be on a boat. It just cannot be helped. What a perfect place to read, relax, and watch islands drifting by – or the occasional dolphin if you’re lucky. And even when you cannot fully unplug, a floating office with only a little salt spray on the windows obstructing your view isn’t the worst thing either. Charging your mind (and your devices) is part of the journey.
Of course, offer me a day out on a private yacht and I’ll jump at the chance, snorkel and mask at the ready. Aside from the privacy, they allow you to explore nooks and crannies you simply cannot get to any other way. But am I alone in finding public transport so evocative and romantic? I doubt it. It’s like travelling through a region through its arterial routes.
The gentle hum of the engine is a constant companion as the ship weaves its way through the web of islands and islets. Voices speaking all manner of languages, backpacking tourists and hunchback grandmas, island-bagging visitors and schoolchildren en route to weekly drumming lessons. A human kaleidoscope, an essential lifeline.
