/travel/freighter/Arrival
June 16, 10:30
I'm now on board the MSC Malaga. She's docked at the 4th container terminal, at the very north of the Port of Liverpool. I'm sitting on a wheelless chair in my cabin, which is, as best as I can assess, at the aft (rear) on the starboard (right) side, with a window in each of those directions.
How I got here was not how I expected.
Departure
Last night, Thursday, I finished up my last bits of work, Clare and I made a quick pasta-and-sauce meal, and we scrambled out the door, 10 minutes later than planned. I wanted to swing by a grocery store, just to have a wee bit of food. One of my nightmare scenarios was finding out that they in fact did not have food for the passengers on this ship. It's crazy, of course, but every question unasked left a story in my head, and indeed I didn't ask many questions.
We picked up some groceries -- juice, some fruit, a bag of muesli -- and went on our way. First trying to find the P&O ferry port, for which the roads were blocked off. When we got there, the woman in the booth said they didn't take foot passengers. "I called ahead, they said you did," I replied rather belligerently. As it turns out, I had been confused about which ferry company indeed took foot passengers. She redirected us to Norse Merchant ferries, which rang a bell. We headed there, eventually finding it in the twisty maze that is the fairly old Dublin port area, only to find a big dark building. Then we drove around some more, and found a booth with some people in it, and asked where we were supposed to be. Since I looked rather desparate (having neglected to have a concrete backup plan), they made a phone call or two, but told me that the bridge was lifting.
So that was that. We drove around a bit more, found where we should have gone, and then headed to my office, which was nearby. Phil was there, and was most amused by the situation. We looked through the options -- fast ferries, ferries from Dun Laoghaire, ferries to Holyhead, ferries from Belfast, but nothing was going to get me there in time. So I ended up flying, undoing some of the precious carbon savings I am after in taking this mode of transit. I flew into Manchester, departing at 06:30, and took a fairly short trainride to Liverpool.
From there, I hopped in a taxi, and tried to explain where I wanted to go, not entirely certain myself. Despite having seen the maps, the Port of Liverpool was incredibly long; a reasonably well-kempt passenger-ferry area, and then progressively more industrial and giant-sized shipping areas, down to the container terminal. I hopped out at a police guard booth, and she directed me onwards to Dock (?) #4. Found another booth, and showed some papers. They told me that I was in the right place, and so I paid the taxi (10.70GBP..ouch), and hopped out. A rickety old van with torn seating and flooring showed up and drove me to the boat.
The van dropped me right beside the front of the boat, and I stepped out beside the giant rails that the container-loading machinery rolls along. I asked where to go next, and he said "up to that gangplank there" in a thick Liverpudlian accent. I walked over to it, and climbed up.
I fear none of this conveys the utter sense of lack of knowledge of the whole thing -- where to go, what words to use, who might know things and who might not. This boat takes up to 5 passengers, and this time I'm the only one, so even to various people involved, I was an oddity or a surprise. When I came onboard Philipino greeted me formally: "What is your purpose visiting the ship?" I explained that I was a passenger, and he warmed up immediately, checked my passport, and called the First Mate.
So, I'd arrived, dazzled but definite.
