The tunnels become longer and when the road emerged, it would cling to the mountainside almost vertically above the water. Each tunnel had a series of signs which told you increasingly how many kilometres you had come and decreasingly how many were left to go. I suppose this would help you to decide which way to walk out if you broke down, it was also encouraging. I entered a tunnel that counted down from seven kilometres. The usual , slightly grim, excitement of being in a long tunnel turned to impatience but on leaving it I found myself on a narrow ledge in a queue of cars waiting to board a serious looking ferry. The road stopped dead so there was no choice but to pay the tough looking man who sold the tickets and board the ferry