Northern Ireland by ferry: Swerve the airport and set sail for an affordable, relaxed journey
It’s a blissful eight hours of decompression – and at £64 for a Liverpool-Belfast return crossing, including all your luggage, it’s a great-value way to visit the Northern Irish capital, writes Helen Coffey
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Your support makes all the difference.People seem very surprised to discover that the ferry crossing from Liverpool to Belfast takes eight hours.
Not a single person nods sagely when I tell them – it is all raised eyebrows, sharp intakes of breath and expressions I can only describe as aghast. “Eight hours?” comes the inevitable disbelieving reply: a question, rather than a statement, dripping with incredulity.
I suppose it does sound a long time considering that the fastest hops from mainland Britain to our other neighbours, the Republic of Ireland and France, take 2hr 15m and 1hr 30m respectively. And that the only other GB to Northern Ireland crossing – Cairnryan to Larne – clocks in at just two hours. How can the alternative take four times as long?
The answer is hardly surprising – a cursory glance at a map will reveal that the distance between Liverpool’s Birkenhead port and the Northern Irish capital is, indeed, about four times as far (if not more) as the Scottish village of Cairnryan is from the east-coast town of Larne in County Antrim. But still. People seem to have a hard time accepting this as fact.
Although not as much of a hard time as they have accepting that I look forward to such a prospect. If I was embarking on an eight-hour flight, it would be an entirely different story – something to endure rather than enjoy. But a day spent traversing the Irish Sea, floating atop the blue-grey expanse, with sporadic bursts of sun causing lights to shiver and dance enchantingly across the surface of the waves? I can scarce think of a more relaxed way to spend my time.
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The decompression begins right off the bat when I reach the Stena Line terminal at Liverpool’s busy port. I’ve arrived an hour and 15 minutes before my 10.30am departure time – check-in only closes an hour in advance of the sailing – and as is so often the case as a foot passenger, I stroll up to the queue-free desk and am attended to immediately. No need to even present my ticket: I’m asked for my name, handed a boarding pass with a smile and told to sit down. I’m also handed a card with a code to the Stena Plus Lounge, which I am exceedingly excited to explore once onboard.
I sit and relax before we, a small group of gathered pedestrians, are waved through. As ever, I mentally give thanks for the fact that there’s no need to remove my belt and shoes, nor individually tray up my laptop or decant tiny toiletries into a plastic bag – none of these requirements apply to ferry travel. In fact, I just wheel my big suitcase – full of as many liquids as I please and which I didn’t need to pay extra to bring with me – outside, where it’s put into the back of a van to be loaded onto the ship. Unlike checking in a bag at the airport, where you simply send up a prayer to the god of lost luggage that it ends up on the right continent and hope for the best, it’s a virtual impossibility that I won’t be reunited with it once in Belfast. For now, unencumbered, I board a bus onto the good ship Embla.
It’s a very nice vessel, too – and believe me, they aren’t all created equal – with a ton of places to sit for those who have booked neither a seat nor a cabin, in bright, airy, contemporary lounges with huge floor-to-ceiling windows that show off the seascape to its best advantage. The cares of the week slip off me like satin as I take a seat next to one of them, put my phone on airplane mode (somewhat ironic given my method of transportation) and spend the next couple of hours chatting to a good friend who’s also opted for life in the slow lane today, as it means she can bring her bike to Northern Ireland.
Stena Line does actually offer free Wi-Fi for low-key tasks (sending an email is fine, streaming a video is not), or you can pay a couple of quid to properly access the internet for the entire crossing. But I choose not to – I’m relentlessly online enough as it is, I don’t really feel the need to still be connected while in the middle of the ocean. It does mean, however, that should you wish to spend the eight hours working, there’s nothing to stop you – an opportunity my friend takes advantage of, firing up her laptop after lunch.
It’s the perfect excuse for me to go in search of the exclusive Stena Plus lounge. Well, I say “exclusive” – it only costs an extra £25. In fact, price point is one of the major attractions of taking the ferry, as well as avoiding an emissions-heavy flight: the starting price is just £64 return, including luggage. The Plus upgrade entitles you to slightly smarter environs, with pale wood-panelled walls and reclining chairs, but the real selling point is the food and drink: you get free snacks and beverages for the duration, including wine service. I have rarely felt so sophisticated as when loading up a plate with antipasti and cubes of cheddar and pouring myself a chilled glass of rosé to savour while staring enigmatically out to sea.
The time mysteriously melts away without ever really feeling like it’s passing at all
The time mysteriously melts away without ever really feeling like it’s passing at all. One minute I’m gazing at the aforementioned water, undulating mercifully gently today, my mind plunged into a deeply meditative state from the ceaseless movement as far as the eye can see; the next I’m immersed in my book, able to fully concentrate for the first time in months. I finish up the journey back in the main lounge with my friend, where we shriek with laughter as we watch Mamma Mia! Here We Go Again (downloaded onto my laptop for just such an occasion), facilitated by the convivial sharing of my old-school headphones.
We’re have such a raucously good time, in fact, that we totally fail to notice that the ship has pulled into the dock at Belfast until we look up to see the lounge has cleared out. Back on dry land, there’s no embittered wait for the luggage carousel to spit out our belongings, airport-style; our bags are simply waiting for us on the tarmac.
I turn off airplane mode and my heart sinks just a little as the screen lights up with a ream of notifications. Eight hours? Well, yes. But if anything, it’s not long enough.
Travel essentials
Tickets for the Liverpool-Belfast Stena Lina ferry service start at £32 one-way. Stena Plus lounge access from £25.
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