The Irish sea. Just as temperamental, just as wet.

Uuuurrrggghhh! *Spit* Huuuurrrrgggghhhh! *Spit*

It was a three hour trip across the Irish sea to reach the Isle and so I had settled down for a spot of beauty sleep to pass the time. Only I wasn’t to sleep after all. I was woken by the noise of everyone around me throwing up. Or heaps of people anyway. This old guy next to me was yakking like a champ, a lady made it half way across the ferry lounge floor before crumpling to her knees and letting out a chunder beer drinkers would be proud of, a little girl was being led to the toilet with a napkin over her mouth, spew dribbling out from the sides and this was to go on all trip. I even visited the toilet at one stage to take a dump only to find them full of guys throwing up.

But one person not throwing up, in fact they looked to be dozing when they were not texting, was the fit looking girl in front of me. And by fit I mean drop dead gorgeous....

I spent the remainder of my trip listening to my ipod and keeping myself distracted by staring at her. She and I laughed at the crashes from the kitchen and the vomiting but on my part, it was all an act as the vomit noises began to make me consider joining in the fun.

We made it safely though without and on arrival I pointed the fit girl out to Pierre who had already noticed her and we left discussing the high potential this island seemed to have of the female persuasion.