A hot night thanks to the lack of any air conditioning in our room. I think this place gets so cold that Alaskans forget stuffy is not a good thing in summer. It’s a working theory. Anyway, it meant we’d slept with the window open all night and that was okay except, we were right on the car park and groups of chattery people seemed to arrive off buses at regular intervals and, at around ten pm, a dude on what I’m sure he considers a very cool motorcycle, made enough noise exiting the car park that it echoed around the valley. I’m a light sleeper, you see, which is generally fine…until it’s not.

We had several aims today – do laundry (I didn’t need to, but Gordon has gotten as much mileage out of his gear as he could ie. underpants aired and tshirts rotated to the edge of decency), shop for groceries (we are headed to a cabin with minimal electricity and byo supplies) and catch the car ferry across Prince William Sound. A three hour crossing on a fast catamaran.

Another good hotel breakfast, marred only slightly by the aforementioned chatty bus group people (they do make for good people watching though) and we are on our way. I’ve only just noticed that the printed paper I have is not a ticket, but an itinerary and said tickets are still required, thus, we are keen to get to the ferry terminal earlier than the required one hour. Upon collecting tickets, I notice our arrival time is listed as 5:45pm…hmm, that’s six hours…not fast. Apparently there was a boat change to the slower ferry back in April and I hadn’t received notification. Travel agent didn’t tell you? I didn’t think I’d used a travel agent…new lesson learnt, check websites carefully as they often present as something they are not. I thought I’d booked directly with the Alaska Marine Highway. Totally no big deal for us, as we weren’t going far and weren’t going to run out of daylight but could be a disaster if your connections are tight.

On board the Aurora, and after our little Yaris is tucked into a tiny crevice in the boat’s cavernous belly, we snag a lounge booth right near the window. Soon, we are joined by two friendly ladies, one from Florida and the other from here in Alaska. We strike up easy conversation with them and spend a very pleasant few hours watching the magnificent scenery glide by and trading stories. I venture outside just once to take pictures of the ice chunks that the impressive Columbia glacier is spitting out into the sound. They are car sized, blue and sea birds are using them as resting places. These ferries are a mainstay in Alaska as so much of the state is inaccessible by car. You can camp on them, actually setting up a tent on the top deck and they have showers, a big canteen and an area for screening movies

The township of Whittier is our arrival port, it’s tiny, population 223, with only one hotel, a couple of restaurants, a train terminus and an apartment building where most of the residents live…interesting. We grab coffees and maple glazed donuts from a sweet little kiosk and drive off quickly to join the lineup for the tunnel to open. This tunnel is an engineering feat, burrowing through miles of rock to join the road to Anchorage. It only opens once per hour and is shared with the train, so it pays to be ready. Once through the tunnel we head for Seward, another seaside, fishing and tourist town on the Kenai peninsula. The drive down takes about two hours, maybe slightly longer, as yep – roadworks. It is no less stunning though, with more mountain and glacier scenery joined by flowery meadows and glittery lakes and passing through towns with names like, Moose Pass and Bear Creek.

The road naming system in Seward mirrors that of Anchorage, except there are numbers one way and Presidents the other. We find our hotel, the Van Gilder, on the corner of Third and Adams. It’s an historic building with heaps of character and a resident ghost but, it seems, they weren’t expecting us and our lovely third floor room is already taken. Oops, our stuff up, says the manager, I’ll put you in another of our hotels, an upgrade, big room down by the water. It’s okay, we say, whatever you have but we will just stay here. He apologises profusely, knocks some money off the bill and writes us out a breakfast voucher for a downtown diner. This is travel – things happen and flexibility is key. Laundry is done, groceries are grabbed and Subway sandwiches consumed for dinner. It’s ten pm and still full daylight but time for bed.