In an era of soulless and procedural jet plane travel, there was something wonderfully vintage about the 10-hour overnight sea journey I was midway through. I&rsquod driven my Toyota Camry aboard the Spirit of Tasmania at the Melbourne ferry wharf the previous evening and now this 29-ton ferry was cruising along the Bass Strait at a relaxed 25 knots, halfway through its journey to Devonport, Tasmania. On board there was enough entertainment to ensure that this wasn&rsquot just any point A to point B slog &mdash a gaming room to see if luck was your lady, two restaurants to savour, three decks to hang out on, four bars and open spaces with shooting stars to wish upon. Right then, at 3am, I was standing against the rail cupping an espresso laced with a tot of Southern Comfort. Yes, this was travel and I was completely at peace, enjoying my wicked drink, feeling the chilly and moist breeze on my face and slowly becoming mesmerised by the haunting gloom of the Southern Ocean.