House on the coast

We are on the coast, at a ferry dock. Some boys are fooling around swinging from the ropes. One of the crew shouts at them to get down. The ferry departs. We leave too, travelling along the coast at speed in a vehicle like a cross between a car and a rocket. We arrive by crashing into the side wall of the house. The house is small but nicely decorated in pale colours and light wood. After a while I become angry with my travelling partner. I shout at him for making a mess, casting aside used cups, plates, clothes and other things. He says someone else will deal with it. I try to extricate my things from the mess, in particular I pull a white top out from a tangle of clothes.