10 reasons why ferry travel is better than flying (especially if you miss the ’90s)
Flying might be faster, but where’s the fun in that? If you grew up when travel meant cassette tapes, AA road maps, crumb-filled cool boxes and praying the clutch would last until Calais, you’ll know: the ferry was the start of the adventure. And it still is.
Here are ten solid, slightly sentimental reasons why ferry travel is still better than flying. This list was inspired by a recent Petrolblog adventure to France and Spain, which kicked off – appropriately – with a crossing on Brittany Ferries.
1. The holiday starts with the ferry
Remember that fizz of excitement as you rolled onto the ferry ramp in a fully loaded Sierra with the windows down and the dog panting in the boot? You weren’t just going on holiday – you were going abroad. The ferry wasn’t a chore; it was the gateway to warm Fanta, exotic road signs and hypermarkets with unpronounceable names. And it still is.
2. No need to remove your shoes (unless paddling)
Airport security wants your belt, your liquids, your dignity. Ferry ports? Just roll up, maybe show a passport, and you’re on your way. Your shoes stay on your feet – unless you fancy a paddle at the port while waiting to board. Petrolblog top tip: don’t. It’s 80 percent pebbles, 20 percent unmentionables.
3. Bring your car – and everything in it
No luggage restrictions. No paying extra to bring trousers. Just chuck it all in the boot – snorkels, cassette tapes, half the kitchen – and drive on. Whether you’re in a T-reg Mondeo or a roof-boxed Saab held together with bungee cords, the ferry welcomes you and your automotive overpacking habits.
4. No elbows, no breathers, no cramp
Remember trying to sleep on a night flight with someone’s elbow in your ribcage, your knees in your chin, and the guy next to you snoring like a foghorn? Ferries offer actual space. Chairs. Sofas. Whole lounge areas. Cinemas. Sundecks where you can brave a Force 9 gale while spotting dolphins. Somewhere to stretch out and eat crisps without apologising to strangers.
5. You actually arrive where you meant to
Ferries go from sensible places (Plymouth, Portsmouth, Poole, Dover) to equally sensible places (Roscoff, Caen, Cherbourg, Calais). Not ‘Paris South-West Regional Airport’ located in a cornfield 89 miles from civilisation. You roll off the ferry and straight onto the next part of your adventure – no shuttle buses, no panic, no ‘zone C37’ nonsense.
6. Meals on board are a proper event
Fish and chips with tartare sauce in a plastic tub. A full English with slightly grey sausages. The laminated menu with pictures. The thrill of balancing a tray in a mild sea swell. It’s all part of the experience. And compared to airline food (or the lack of it), it’s a full-blown culinary escapade.
7. French car-spotting: just like the good old days
This is where the magic really happens. Ferry queues were – and are – rolling museums. Rusty Renault 18s with camping trailers. Peugeot 505 Familiales full of baguettes and bicycles. Citroën CXs idling like tugboats. You'd press your face to the window hoping to spot a Safrane, a Talbot Tagora or even a Matra Rancho. These days it’s rarer, but they’re still out there: dusty, dented and clinging on. French tat never dies. Obviously. You've seen the stickers.
8. Sleep in one country, wake up in another
There’s something special about overnight crossings. The hum of the engines. Tiny cabins with blue carpets and rattly locks. The gentle (you hope) rocking of the waves. You drift off in Plymouth, and wake up with sun on the window, your face stuck to the pillow, and Brittany on the horizon. It’s proper childhood holiday magic – no jet lag, no baby screaming in seat 42B.
9. Parking doesn’t cost a mortgage
Ferry ports haven’t yet clocked the idea of charging £12.50 an hour to breathe near the terminal. Park up for the day or the week and it’s still vaguely affordable. Or better yet, take the car with you and skip the whole rigmarole. No long-stay car park bus rides required. Try taking the car on the plane – unless you're a head of state or an oil sheikh.
10. It's slow – in a good way
Flying is frantic. Ferries are slow. And that’s the point. You’ve got time to relax. To play Uno. To eat cheeseburger-flavoured crisps from a multipack and stare at the sea. To take part in a quiz in the bar. To browse the duty-free shop and wonder who still buys aftershave in litre bottles. Travel used to be a process, not a race – and ferry operators still get that.
Honourable mention: The smell of warm brakes and burnt clutch on the car deck
Step out of your cabin and onto the metal stairwell down to the car deck, and you’ll be hit with the unmistakable aroma of hot oil, stale air-freshener and lightly scorched handbrakes. Maybe even the sound of car alarms after passengers forgot (or refused) to switch them off. Add in the distant beep of reversing Transits and the clunk of tie-down chains, and you’ve got yourself a sensory time capsule.
Still flying? It's not for us. Ferries might not be fast, but they’re part of a proper journey – one with French number plates, naff souvenirs, discounted Toblerones and the occasional G-reg BX weaving its way to the exit ramp. What more could you want?
Also available in the gift shop...
Love a bit of French tat? Of course you do – you're reading this. Celebrate your fondness for the unloved, underrated and slightly dented with a French Tat window sticker, available now in the Petrolblog shop.
Perfect for your Safrane, your BX, or your Mondeo that wishes it was continental.
