Friday, Saturday, Sunday 22 May 2022
Having established that we were travelling our from Portsmouth and back to Plymouth, and not the other way around, we were left with a free day in which to finish tidying up and gather together the last minute items needed for the trip.
We arrived at Portsmouth about 2 hours before the scheduled 21:30 departure to find that we were already some way back in the queue, which snaked around a car park for a while before the check-in booth came into view. Waiting for the ferry at Portsmouth is rather like waiting for a hospital appointment: your turn comes up in one location and, just as you you were thinking ‘that wasn’t so bad’ you find that you have simple swapped one queue location for another.
And so it went on for about 1 1/2 hours until we finally entered the gleaming cave of the newly launched ferry. But one last disappointment awaited. As we drove the length of the ship and followed the roadway round at the end we went up a ramp and came to a stop at a barrier, perched high above the rest of the vehicles. That meant only one thing: we’d be last off.
The Galicia was launched in December 2020 so had some of the amenities of a modern airliner, such as in cabin movies, but lacked some of the charm of the more old-fashioned vessels. We made the mistake of bringing our 2 suitcases containing our 2 weeks’ worth of clothes and effects into the cabin (mental note for the return journey – decant some essentials into a rucksack). After an airline-style dinner (prepared and dried up) we went to bed and slept well. Despite its fearsome reputation the Bay of Biscay delivered mostly a glassy calm for the whole journey.
After our free breakfast we were left with plenty of time to wander round the top deck searching the waves for dolphins, porpoises or whales. After a cabin snack and viewing The Last Duel (on this occasion a mammoth 3 hours of a film) we took another turn around the deck and spotted what we thought were porpoises, until we were put right by the whale watch lady who told us that they were dolphins, unusually spotted hunting fish in a group.
Dinner was also included in our ticket price and we were allocated a 19:30 slot. The previous night’s restaurant had been transformed from motorway service area to decent-looking restaurant and we were served at the table. All was well until Christine ate a small portion of pear tart, only to discover that it contained nuts. Te staff reaction moved from denial to allegation that it was just a trace to suggestion that it was out fault for not telling them about allergies. That changed from slight apology to alarm as her throat slightly closed up and a nurse was dispatched to our cabin with talk of helicopter rescues. Fortunately she had enough ant-histamine and other medicine to deal with the situation and nothing but a disturbed and uncomfortable night followed.
As we waited for the ramp to lower the next morning we were amused to note the attitude of the female staff member controlling the exit barrier, who made a game of deciding which lane would go first and seemed to take as much pleasure as we did by holding back the Maserati that started its engine before anyone else and edged it matt black bonnet forward menacingly.
We feared the port in an acceptable 1 1/4 hours and soon arrived at the Parador Gil Blas in Santillana del Mar. The carefully pre-entered sat nav co-ordinates took us down a narrow cobbled street and deposited is in a quiet village plaza, with no Parador in site. A short foo journey took us to the real location, just a couple of streets away and we gingerly moved the car along traffic-deserted ancient streets to the Parador car park.
The Parador occupies a very old family house and the rooms are dark, with creaky old floor boards. Our room was on the second floor overlooking the courtyard and pleasantly furnished. The modern bathroom contained everything that we needed – except hot water. That is unless you were prepared to run the bath tap for 10 minutes. The hotel offered to move us to a more hot water friendly room the next day, but we decided against the effort of re-packing.
The old town of Santillana del Mar is a delight, with ancient builds galore and slightly discreet tourist shops offering vaguely interesting things, rather than kiss-me-quick hats. After several tours of the town we reckoned that we had worked out all the menus and tapas offerings, only to discover that we had left it too late and we were stuck in the gap between a late lunch and an even later dinner, forcing us to wait for the hotel restaurant to open at 20:00.
While individual staff were helpful enough when pushed, the restaurant staff displayed a complete lack of charm, starting with a sniff when we had not booked and begrudgingly showing us to a table. We settled for a just-acceptable first course only before we had enough and left.