Luckily the river hadn’t flooded due to the storm during the night but Thomas was not happy to be packing his wet tent away.
Thomas took a lay in that morning, probably due to sun stroke but also was in no rush as he had plenty of time to reach the ferry port in Santander for his afternoon departure. Thomas was sad the trip was coming to an end but glad to be homeward bound to see his Mrs again and looking forward to sleep in his own, proper bed.
Eventually and within plenty of time, Thomas arrived at the busy port of Santander, where he estimated a further 100 bikes awaited to board. Amongst the bikers there were a large group of typically, very large, tattooed Harley riders of whom he’d expect to speak with a deep American accent but to his amusement they spoke in a very high pitched northern voice. Must be the steroids he thought to himself.
On board the ferry, Thomas waited for his cabin to be cleaned with some Yorkshire bikers who were admiring his Rally 3 suit. Thomas told them that it hadn’t been waterproof and gets very hot at times. With beads of sweat running down Thomas’ forehead, one of the bikers approached and quickly detached the jacket arms then went onto open all the suit vents, none of which Thomas new about and to the amusement of the awaiting passengers. Thomas was embarrassed but glad the incident had created some good camaraderie and friendships.
Whilst crossing the Bay of Bisscay, Thomas mingled with the Yorkshire bikers and dined with some older couples but avoided the high pitched speaking Harley bikers as they stood at the bar as if they owned the ship, followed by an evening of Bingo to which he lost. He found the onboard entertainment amusing and very cheesy, especially the magician who ended up with an eighty year old lady sat on top of him angrily demanding the return of her £10 note he accidentally ripped in two.