After a good-night’s rest, a gorgeous fry-up made by Katie’s mom, Dee, and a frantic day in Camberley picking up last minute essentials, you’d think we were almost ready to go, no?
With our laid-back, almost horizontal nature, by almost 6pm, we were hardly near finished packing, nevermind ready to go. The boys had been due at 7, it was now 7.30, and the pressure was rising in the Parker household (not to mention Phil’s voice). With shouts of “Aren’t you ready yet?!”, and “Why wasn’t this done before?!”, we were whisked out of the house just as the boys pulled up at the drive. Luckily for them, otherwise they could have been making their own way to Portsmouth!
The car journey left me feeling a bit hazy, the stress of packing and nervousness for our adventure culminating somewhere between motion-sickness and feeling faint.
When we pulled into Portsmouth, we were pleasantly greeted by 3 other Hitchers, headed to Morocco. Not quite so pleasant was the realization as we entered the ferry terminal that there were more Hitchers there than there were regular passengers, with dozens more arriving as we waited to board. Finding a lift was going to be competitive.
Nevertheless, we remained cheerful, and Katie insisted we wet the head of our newborn adventure with shots of tequila at the ferry bar.