There are delays to be allowed on board, then delays with passport control, then delays whilst on the ship waiting for it to leave. But this is to be expected, and any frustration is cooled over by the warmth of the other passengers, predominantly Georgians and Ukrainians, who share their food and their friendship. We are, as someone says, all in the same boat.
As the sun goes down the ship honks its horn and leaves the port into the mysterious Black Sea. When the Ancient Greeks first encountered the Black Sea, it was seen as the edge of the known world, inhabited by mythical beasts, half-men, and heroes. In the years since it has often been a buffer zone between differing ideologies and cultures - Christianity and Islam, Capitalism and Communism, Europe and Asia.
When I awake in my cabin the next day, the Georgians I am sharing it with have already started drinking vodka. They, along with the lorry drivers on board, are celebrating the fact that they have a day off and there is no requirement to be sober for at least another 24 hours. Not surprisingly, then, by midday many of the people on the ship are blind drunk, with bright red faces, hysterical laughs and reeking breaths.
Some people who are taking it a bit more easy (i.e. by drinking beer rather than spirits) are a few Italians motorcyclists. They have been travelling around the Middle East, and are on their way back to their small village near Udine. All have tales of how hospitable and kind people in Syria, Jordan and Palestine have been with them. The only thing which they did not enjoy was Arabic Coffee - “Italian coffee is so much better!” They tell me their ages, and I gasp. They all look twenty years younger.
For the next two days, Julie takes care of us. Her humour is more surreal than Spike Milligan, and she is full of energy all day long. As a guide around town she is a natural, whilst back at her apartment she cooks and entertains like no other.
