29 July 2012

Got up and went back to bed. Three times. Ain’t it grand to be on holiday? Finally decided I should surface about 11, mainly because the stewardess was clearly so desperate to do my room, she was trying to ram her way in through the wall from next door. Watched the telly enough to know about the hoo-ha about empty seats at the Olympics. Unsurprising incompetency. At least Mitt Romney has sodded off to insult Israel instead of us for a bit, which is nice.

Today I met a mental. Her name is Yvonne and she is on with her grandmother, Flo. They are both delightful company – funny, irreverent and a little bit silly. Okay, a lot silly. We sunbathed a bit together and then I went off to find the parents for lunch. Lunch was pitiful. Had rice. Followed it with a treacle sponge and jelly, so I’m not going to waste away, but still, pretty dire, even for the Oriana Conservatory. Tried to go back and attempt a salad, but the queue was both out the door and somewhat belligerent, so I left it.

After lunch, went back to the sunbathing with Yvonne and Flo, which went well for almost a full five minutes before it started to spit with rain. Not sure where from, because the clouds were white and fluffy and the sky was blue, but rain it did. Briefly. So we legged it indoors and waited for that particular cloud to sod off, before we went back out and tried again. In the newly-introduced Wind. To be fair, it wasn’t actually THAT windy, but Yvonne had a bit of a moan anyway. She got precisely no sympathy, particularly as, in between the moaning, she was mocking all those who were covering up. Added to which, she already has a tan line where her shorts end when she bends over, so, frankly, TOUGH. (and yes, she is proof-reading this over my shoulder).

Yvonne thought the man on the sunlounger next to her had pulled his trousers down and put them round his ankles and was sitting there in his undercrackers. I glimpsed as long as I dared and then decided she was wrong (thankfully!) and that he had shorts on and had put a tshirt over his legs (why?!). Had a good long giggle, nonetheless.

We met Vijay, who is, according to his badge, a Pool Assist. Now, I have no idea whatever as to what a Pool Assist is. I’m guessing it’s some sort of AssistANT, but that’s not what his badge would have us believe. He basically flirted with us and stood in my sun for a good 20 minutes, during which time he neither pooled nor assisted in any way whatsoever. His role, apparently is to check the water in the pool for dangerous contents and tidy up the sunloungers. Taxing. He is very funny and not a little unimpressed with Yvonne’s Liverpool origins. He seems a bit pro-royals and certainly likes the idea of Cambridge. He’s obviously never tried to sit down there*. There is a bar across the Crystal Pool, although no one, even Vijay, knows why. Neither can he get it removed. In fact, he thinks it’s a permanent fitting. I had to explain to him that it is usually only put across in rough weather or when the pool is closed, to stop people swimming (it doesn’t work, they just do widths instead of lengths!), but he seemed unconvinced. He suggested I contact Reception to get it removed. And we all know how well that will go.

We spotted a Matching Couple. His and hers black trousers and red tops (although his was red and black stripey, so Yvonne called him Dennis the Menace). They walked past us several times, giving us a fit of the giggles each time (and at this point, we were still entirely sober), and we are now desperately waiting to see what they will appear in tomorrow. Although tomorrow is a Port Day (Bergen?), so we may have to wait several days to have our questions answered. Apparently tomorrow I am supposed to be dressed and in my right mind by 10am. Okay…

Minor quibble #4: the MUZAK. AGAIN. It was bad on the Arcadia, as you may recall, due to the fair bit of ranting on the topic. But here on the Oriana, they get it equally wrong. In the Conservatory, they were blasting out Eighties hits just that bit too loud for polite conversation with the person more than one seat away. Here in Tiffanys, they had a blissful silence, but now, here comes the miscellaneous boyband crap. Again.

Parted company to get ready for dinner – Formal. Wore the monsoon maxi dress, which was complimented. The food was meh. Not spectacular but not inedible. Dessert was Sachertorte, which was very yummy indeed. Then Yvonne and I went to Harlequins to watch the ballroom dancers and slag off their outfits. Which wasn’t hard. Some of them were hideous and at least two had help dressing from people who were clearly colourblind. Kept us entertained until the decent music kicked in at midnight. Danced a lot and went to bed at 2am. Which, unfortunately, due to the vagaries of international travel, was 3am. So only 5 or so hours sleep before it’s time to get up again!