Being British
Awareness of being on a boat is undeniable; the walls and floors are vibrating as the engines of the elderly Stena vessel power us across the Irish Sea from Pembrokeshire to Co Wexford; a wake runs from the stern in the unusually calm waters. The ferry spends most of its time neither in one place or the other; a self-enclosed world where there is nothing to do except wait.
Being on a boat recalls again Stoppard’s lines from “Rosencrantz and Guildenstern are Dead” on being and being.
“You can’t not …