Over the New Year, I travelled through 5 countries and 2 continents by crossing over from the European mainland to Africa. The crossing itself should have been a routine boat trip but it felt like a lot more.

It was a cool and dark morning as my shoes crunched the gravel underfoot while I walked to the waiting taxi with a faulty door. I watched the empty town of Algeciras pass by as we drove to the port. It was quite early as I had planned to take the first ferry out.

The terminal building was predictable empty and quiet. The harsh neon strips gave the place a clinical feel and the drab, slightly used interior reminded me of Malta’s old airport terminal.

A handful of travellers, some dragging large bags assembled around the check-in door. We shuffled our way to the ferry, boarded and found a quiet spot of our own in the smart cabin that smelt like unused coffee cups and frustrated smokers.

After a few minutes, I felt the familiar thrum of the engines from the passenger ferry between Malta and Gozo.

The whine of the engines increased a notch and the swell of the boat was imperceptibly more noticeable as we surged southwards.

Most of my fellow passengers were either asleep or wishing that they were. Few people spoke; mostly they occupied a seat or two with their belongings and just patiently waited. Occupancy was low but then how many people would need to cross the straits first thing on a Friday morning?

Outside, pitch black except for yellow and white lights signalling the coast (of Gibraltar? Algeciras? Africa?), the rest of the world swayed past.

Behind the clouds, the sun started to rise over the straits of Gibraltar. The horizon, a fine black line at eye level, underlined a muddy brown patch of sky that the clouds diluted into a pale yellow before changing back into shades of blue.

Maybe it was because there was something to focus upon other than an obsidian night, but the swaying became more noticeable.

Maybe it was the high seas.

Maybe it was me.

I strained my eyes, searching for evidence of life in the silky sea that swept us south. I had read that sometimes dolphins accompany boats as they make their crossings but perhaps they too were asleep somewhere.

Staff clinked a few manky coffee cups as they prepared refreshments for some. There was nothing appetising on display so I avoided the spartan canteen and turned my attention outwards again.

Pinpricks of light signalled the existence of life other than our heated cocoon. I looked around me, surprised to see that the east facing part of the boat was still cloaked in darkness.

The light increased and the swaying continued as the swell of the waves carried us towards the coast of Africa. I was lost deep in thought when the engines’ whine emitted a sigh of relief. I saw what the ship’s captain had already seen: land ahoy!

We cruised into harbour and I collected my things, readying myself for my first steps on African soil.

When was the last time you travelled somewhere by boat in this day and age?