Or: a few things of the things that are wrong with Brittany Ferries
Brittany Ferries have some smart-looking boats and, no doubt, employ skilled mariners to operate them in a safe manner, but the customer facing parts appear to be notably flakey. I speak as a customer who is today using the Bilbao to Portsmouth ferry Cap Finisterre, a good name because once aboard, it feels like the end of the world is nigh. Here goes with the rant…
- The problems start before the journey begins because they try to stop you finding out where the ferry leaves from. As I had known that we would be arriving in France via another route, and had never visited the Bilbao terminal before, I went to the Brittany Ferries website a few weeks ago to get directions. I eventually managed to find a map, and later managed to print it in a format large enough to read, despite the Brittany Ferries website pulling very hard in the opposite direction. But the map was devoid of the motorway junction number, and the directions seem to assume throughout that you know where “the old terminal at Santurzi” is (or was), and that you are trying to go there by mistake. So, lacking any confidence in the map, Jenny and I did a recce the day before and, despite there being only one small sign bearing the legend Brittany ferries, found the terminal by trial and error. Then, at 23.32 the night before your departure, Brittany Ferries send you a text telling you the missing bits of the directions (the motorway junction number) and, aarrggh!, provide more directions which assume you already know where the old terminal was. P*ss poor, methinks.
- The above possibly explains why the ferry was so lightly loaded in peak season – I have visions of dozens of would-be passengers getting hopelessly lost on the outskirts of Bilbao!
- On the ferry, the water in the taps tastes stale, but the only water in the shop is sold in mean little 50cl bottles at £1.30 each. I asked a gold-braid-uniformed crew member whether the water from the taps was safe to drink and he assured me it was, but he agreed that it has an unpleasant taste.
- By now we needed some comfort food and I tried to buy some chocolate. There were only some tiny bars of designer chocolate (branded “Sexy”, but “Irritating” would have hit the spot better) at £1.60 per bar. Worse still, upon getting it back to the cabin and opening the wrapper it was mouldy and had a use-by date of July 2011, so obviously it had been on the shelf for ages. Profuse apologies from the crew when I returned it but, if they hadn’t so greedily over-priced it, maybe they’d sell more of it and it wouldn’t reach its sell-by date and go mouldy?
- The crossing takes 24 hours and wi-fi is available at £8.50 for three hours but, as the brochure explains: “Remember [sic] your session keeps running even if you are logged off.” I helpfully told the woman at the desk that this was “just comical” and she responded with a wink, so she was obviously in on the joke too.
- While looking for somewhere to get some supper, I enquired at the restaurant whether one could “BYOB” (bring your own bottle), as I still had a litre of “loose” wine. The answer was of course “Non!” which, considering I had paid around £400 to be on the ferry, seemed very mean indeed. This particular gripe is more a reflection of money-grabbing than amateurishness.
Phew, rant over for now.
Matathewsiasms 