Disappearing act

I am having some good chat with a brewer in Helsinki at the moment. A very friendly and amenable man who I hope to meet up with some time soon. We were chatting through the 'good old days' and I was telling him I was based in Stockholm for a while and had crossed the Baltic to Helsinki a number of times on Viking Line and Silja Line. Now these crossings are a good reason (excuse?) for a party. The journey leaves Stockholm around 5pm and arrives in Helsinki at 9am the next morning. In between times, you eat, drink, dance, gamble.... indeed anything you feel the urge to do.

On one trip, a Sales Manager I worked with (a true Viking blonde lady of immense beauty and character) had a particularly late night. In the morning, whilst bleary eyes and addled heads checked for the whereabouts of our car, the Sales Manager (let's call her MJ) declared to anyone who would listen to her dull roar that our car had been stolen! Some feat, stealing a car from a car deck half way across the Baltic but MJ was convinced! The same MJ lost a hire car in Iceland, but that is a story for another day.