"That was the worst train ride I have ever been on" declared Richard as we finally reached Patras. While the five hours in the oppressive heat and smoky atmosphere hadn't been a bundle of fun, the hyperbole didn't really seem justified. Fourth worst maybe.
A slight misreading of the timetable on my part had happy consequences, as, instead of having to stay overnight in uninspiring Patras, we could leave on the 8pm boat, direct to Ancona.
The ship, Superfast V, was plush and comfortable, and before long anchors were weighed and we steamed off into the Adriatic as the sun set.
...
It would have been a perfect scene, had not Richard and andrew got it into their heads that they really wanted to visit ... Guernsey, an idea of such stupidity that it rivals "Shall we try for a baby, Mrs Hitler?" Still I suppose we'll end up following their whims.