THURSDAY, SEPTEMBER 15, 2011
07:35PM
STRANRAER, ABOARD THE STENA LINE HSS

Dear Jason,

Your mum was right! Tea and coffee is now no longer free on ferries. These are sad days indeed; darker, in fact, than the tea I can now no londer afford to immerse myself in.

Chances are you'll phone when I'm still on board - or back on the road. There's been a lot of 'on-roading' today; five hours of it, in fact, if you ignore the two-hour business sojourn to Manchester.

Why have I felt the bizarre need to write 'sojourn' in these letters? I almost wrote it yesterday and I have no recollection why.

Sojourn. Ha. Aha. Hahaha... ehem.

We set off at about half ten this morning. We were in Manchester by half eleven, but the furniture my stepdad was picking up hadn't even been finished yet. So by the time it was all done and loaded up, it was about two o'clock. I passed the time just twiddling my thumbs, lost in thought or helping out where I could.

When we hit the road again, we only took a couple of stops in what was to be a five hour drive. Through flat and idyllic Lancashire, up across the smooth, yellowed Cumbrian hills, all the while racing the sun North towards Stranraer. Past historic Carlisle and into Scotland, where (I shit you not) suicidal baby rabbits tried their luck eating new shoots by the roadside. The live ones were cute. The dead... not so much.

Stranraer enjoyed a platinum sunset when we arrived. It's a small seaside town despite the thousands who pass through it each day, with one of thoe Balamory rows of houses facing the water. We queued up in the ferry terminal at about ten to seven - not a moment too soon as the town saw the last dregs of the sun!

Ten minutes now until we're due to set off - it's 7:50. Rumbles of mechanical life shudder through the boat like it's caught a chill in the Irish sea. More accurately, it's like some great leviathan awakening, stretching the remnants of sleep through its being.

Last time I sailed with the HSS, I felt the boat's every motion. But those were choppy seas - a message from the Captain suggests a kinder ocean in the North Channel today.

We're moving now, that self-same Balamory coast disappearing to a widening sea. The usual safety message is playing over the tannoy. Geoffrey - actually, it's Jeffrey; I've just recalled the 'J' printed on his boarding pass - is asleep.

I'll be on the couch tonight as there's no bed sorted out for me - no doubt I'll be thinking of you and your mum as I settle down to sleep!

Looking forward to your call, whenever that might be,

Kelza xxxxxxxx

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Fun fact about Stranraer: the town's branch of New Look is right next to a police station. Any Scottish chavettes (nedettes) who fancied their chances during the UK riots in August wouldn't have had far to go. This was a thought of mine as we drove through the town!