Wednesday 27^th January – Montevideo, Uruguay

Well, that started badly but ended well.

There was a notice in the Horizon paper last night, saying that there would be crew drills at 10am, but I wasn’t worried, because we gained an hour last night, so even I would be awake by then. Needless to say, this is not what occurred. Actual start time? 08.50. Not 9.50. EIGHT fifty. And not only that, but all the announcements came through the cabins. What I call the pillow speakers. Which are only supposed to be used for emergencies. So if you were ill, or old, or choosing not getting off here, or unable to, for whatever reason, you were shaken from your bed by the noise anyway. And it was continual. Not just one announcement; there were dozens, for over an hour and a half, to my knowledge – they apparently continued after we had disembarked – they even did an abandon ship drill, which we have never heard before. We are going to do this. We are doing this. This is what is being done. This is what was done. This is what should have happened. Stage Two will be this. We will now do this… Bells and alarms and announcements. On and on and on. And REALLY loud. At the same time, when room speakers are used, the television is automatically muted (apparently in an emergency, they REALLY want us to hear their announcements). So every single one of these meant a portion of The Imitation Game where I was expected to lipread to follow the plot. Very VERY irritating. I reported it to Reception in the evening, and Mika seemed surprised that the cabin speakers were used. She said she will pass on my comments.

While I was at Reception, I booked a seat at Mission Impossible tomorrow evening, which my more loyal readers will be aware was not shown on the first sector due to “issues” in the Screening Room.

Anyway, we disembarked and walked to the port gate. We tried to book the hop on hop off bus, but they wanted eighteen quid a head, so we had a good laugh and then beat a hasty retreat. The pedestrianised part of town starts immediately opposite the port, so we strolled for a while. There is an indoor market, where lots of separate barbecue stalls, with real fires, cook your meat in front of you. We only wanted a drink at 11am, but this took a while and several tries to negotiate. In the end, one guy ‘allowed’ us to sit at his table and drink his drinks and then DOUBLED the cost when we tried to pay the bill. Fine, hon, but we considered having lunch here, so I hope that extra three dollars keeps you warm at night, while we eat somewhere run by someone more honest. I don’t mind paying ‘tourist tax’ but doubling the price is a bit rich, if you’ll pardon the pun.

It was a beautiful day, weather-wise – about 28 degrees, with a light breeze and virtually no humidity. We had blue skies and everything. As the forecast in the Falklands is 12 degrees, this may be our last day of warm for a while.

We found a delightful souvenir shop, with even more delightful staff, who took care of our every whim with a smile. I would tell you the name, but the shop did not seem to have one! So I took a photo of the shop, and the girl outside, and I can tell you it’s about the eighth shop on the left as you come away from the port.

We then pootled a little further and, when we came to a junction where we had intended to turn left into town, mum said that, as we could see the sea up ahead, we should keep going that way. So we did. The port is on the north side of a finger-shaped promontory that sticks out from the town, and we essentially walked straight across from one side to the other.

The maps here are quite bizarre. Some have north at the top, as one might expect, and others did not! They inverted the whole town, and put north at the bottom. I suppose they think it makes more sense that way around, but it makes finding your way using more than one for information a decidedly complex operation!

We found a beautiful beach, that stretched for miles, curving all the way along the edge of the town around the bay. The sea was a bizarre colour here, though – a sort of mixture of purple and brown. It looked nothing like the usual blues and greens we might expect. We speculated that it was silt and sand kicked up in last night’s wind, but it looks very odd in the photos.

A little more wandering found us at the NH Columbia Hotel. Those who read my blog last year will recall me raving about a buffet in one of the hotels in this Spanish chain. There was no buffet today, but the food was still very good. We used their wifi to Skype home, and the signal was excellent here. In fact, there is a LOT of free wifi in Montevideo. There is even wifi in the middle of the parks – they signpost it with bus stop signs!

After lunch, we took a cab to Punta Carretas Shopping Mall, which is a rather expensive choice, but as it was built in a converted prison, it was a very interesting building! Turns out that, although this feels like a very Spanish country, their McDonalds do not do gluten-free burgers. In fact, gluten-free generally is not well-serviced here. They’ve HEARD of it – it’s just a fruit salad and ice cream kind of a place. This place looks so Spanish, though, in fact, that, if I muddled up my photos, you will have no idea where in the world it is. It’s nice to find it easier to communicate, as well, because while my Spanish is fairly poor, my Portuguese is virtually non-existent! Also, whereas in Salvador, the predominant identity seemed to be Afro-Caribbean, down here in Montevideo, it is definitely Hispanic. And most people speak at least a little English. Although by no means all. Oddly, English was particularly in short supply at the Radisson Hotel in Independence Square. In the past, I’ve always thought that big, posh hotels chose staff with language skills. Not here, apparently. But we got by.

After the shopping trip – fairly unproductive, although Dad got a new pair of plimsolls – we took a cab to Constitution Square and then walked two blocks through market stalls to Independence Square, where we had tea at the aforementioned Radisson. I had a plate of fruit, and mum had the biggest piece of chocolate cake we have ever seen. Dad had to eat half! After using the rather lovely loos, we took a cab back to the ship. There was a free shuttle bus from the ship to Independence Square and back, provided by one of the large stores, but they stopped running at 2pm. Not hugely helpful, seeing as we are in port until half eleven tonight! So we took a cab, and the driver managed to talk his way into the port and drop us right at the foot of the gangplank! Nice!

We made it back just in time for dinner, and Chris, Fran and Abigail arrived not long after. They also had a good day, although they did a historical walking tour, which sounded a lot of work for very little gain! They are going on a battlefield tour in the Falklands – Chris is into war history – so we chatted about Normandy for a while. Dinner was fun. I like these tablemates.

Then I crashed. Absolutely shattered. I’m fine until I stop, and then you could not get me going again with gunpowder. In bed by ten (which admittedly is 1am GMT).

Monday – Sea Day 1 of 2.

A very lazy day indeed. Got up. Late. Not the best night’s sleep ever. Sudoku and fruit. Lunch. Swim. Shower. Formal night. Burns Night. Possibly my least favourite P&O event. Bagpipes and haggis and unintelligible poetry. Bleurgh. Oh well, it’ll be over soon enough.

Managed 18 lengths today (it’s not a huge pool), as the water wasn’t fighting back quite as much as usual. We are in VERY calm waters indeed. Which, considering that, according to the BBC’s weather forecast, we are between two storm fronts – one over Rio and one over Montevideo – is quite surprising. It was very hot and sunny today, but not as humid as it has been. Which is also odd, considering. The question is whether the front that is currently to our south is heading north, or whether it will move west and let us pass unmolested. Or, indeed, whether it will simply sit over Montevideo and wait for us to get there. Only time will tell.

Dinner was fine. The haggis nonsense ended blessedly quickly – we didn’t have a live piper, and they have no concept of volume control as regards the taped version – but the poem was also joyfully short, and the food was excellent. Nicky and Peter didn’t show, again, but Chris and Fran and Abigail are enjoyable company, and we have plenty in common, so conversation flows easily, and everyone enjoyed their meal.

It’s a pretty short summary of a twelve-hour day, but that actually just about covers it!

Tuesday – Sea Day 2 of 2 between Rio and Montevideo

Been trying to download stuff I need for my next Open University essay, so the minutes have really ticked by today. Ouch. I could have waited until tomorrow, but while I was feeling so enthusiastic, it seemed a shame to waste all that intellectual energy… Now I have a week to write the thing. Philosophy of group agency referencing the Borg and Midwich Cuckoos (I kid you not). All suggestions gratefully received.

The sea has gone from a striking cobalt blue colour yesterday to a stark grey, reminiscent of Welsh slate, because it is not sunny today, but grey and overcast. No swim today. Not warm enough. It seems the water needs direct sunlight to keep it warm enough. In fact, we sat inside to eat lunch. Might be the first time since the Western Approaches that we have done that. Eventually, they got the hint and closed the roof! It’s not quite as calm as it was, as the wind has picked up somewhat, but you can still barely feel that you are moving. If it wasn’t for the hangers jingling in the wardrobe, you’d hardly notice at all.

Today, at lunchtime, we overtook the Costa Luminosa (the one that was parked in front of the MSC Lirica in Rio that no one could remember the name of). We weren’t quite close enough to make waving worth the effort, though.

According to the nice weather man, we are currently passing through the front of thunderstorms that is heading north as we head south, so the forecast tomorrow for Montevideo tomorrow is 27 and sunny, not the 37 and stormy we were threatened with yesterday. All sounds much more bearable.

Clocks go back (again) to GMT -3 tonight. Can’t complain. An extra hour in bed never goes amiss, even if it was taken away again before. Maybe this time we’ll hold onto it?

24^th January – Rio

What a lovely place.

We disembarked about half ten. It wasn’t easy. The quayside is unusable. It is dangerously uneven, with potholes, tram rails and so on. In addition, because it is so dangerous, and we were so far from the terminal  (with the MSC Lirica and a Costa ship moored between us and there- P&O are clearly not the only cruise line that cuts corners on the parking spaces), there was a shuttle bus service to get us the half mile or so to the terminal. But there wasn’t much space. So you had the added risk of shuttle buses going in both directions, and, Heaven help us, doing three point turns between our two gangplanks. What a dangerous farce.

Once we got to the terminal, we tried to negotiate with the accredited taxi confederation, who offered us an excellent price, as long as we were prepared to wait for an hour. Which, oddly, we were not. So we kept walking. We walked about a half a mile to get out of the terminal and across to where the (not accredited but still officially licensed) taxis were, because the road between the terminal and the town has been completely dug up, ready to be replaced in time for the Olympics. Or not in time, as the case may be. This town needs a LOT of work between now and then.

The taxi we eventually found took us the nine miles down to Copacabana beach. We could not go into town, because this is a Catholic country on a Sunday, so it was shut. All of it. Every last bit. Museums, galleries, shops, the lot. We drove through it. In nine miles, I saw two corner shop cafes open. It’s like the City of London on a Sunday – shuttered and deserted.

So we aimed for the Copacabana Palace Hotel. Well, it was marked on the map, so we figured it would be pretty posh. And it was. We sat by the pool and Skyped home, using the free wifi (at last!). It was nice to see people again, although the signal wasn’t always superb, and the screen did not cope well with the bright (hazy) sunshine, even though we were sat in the shade.

After Skyping everyone we could get hold of (and using up so much battery, I didn’t have enough left to upload any photos), we went indoors (into the air con) for lunch, which, on a Sunday is a massive buffet, and sat overlooking Copacabana Beach while we ate. Our waiter used to live in Earls Court, so LOVED that we were from London, and took excellent care of us, including showing me the gluten-free options, and also knocking about a third off the final bill (which still came to about 90 quid – I told you this hotel was posh).

We then wrote some postcards, and gave them in at Reception for posting, before heading across to the beach. Got to have a walk on the beach, after having come all this way!

Then we took a cab to a shopping centre I had spotted that WAS open, where mum bought a couple of polo shirts, and I found an amazing view of Sugar Loaf Mountain from the food court terrace on the top (eighth) floor. We met a lovely man called Gerald, who is basically just travelling around the world. At home, he worked in social care, but having rented out his flat in London, he is basically just living off the rent and bumming his way around the planet, enjoying himself as much as possible. Good for him. We chatted to him for a while, until it was time to head back to the ship. Mum wanted to be at dinner, to meet our new table mates.

Unfortunately, our taxi driver got lost. First, we got stuck in a traffic jam (if this is what it looks like on a Sunday, I dread to think what it’s like on a weekday – each time the lights changed, we moved forward two car lengths; that was it), and then he missed our turning, and got trapped in a one-way system that took 20 minutes to escape from (remember the roads are also being dug up all over the place).  In fact, most streets in Rio seem to be one-way. It’s quite an odd system. Wherever you are aiming for, you essentially have to drive past it, get to the end of wherever and then turn around and come back again. I think this would become very irritating in very short order, if I was here for any length of time. Entertainingly, when he realised he’d gone wrong, our taxi driver decided not to stop the meter and, when I finally got us to where we needed to be, he tried to charge us for the full trip. Ha bloody ha. We paid him the amount on the meter at the moment I shouted “There’s the ship” – just before we sailed past it in the wrong direction – and walked away. He didn’t come after us. He knew he had been vastly pushing his luck. And anyway, he was paid in US dollars, so he did okay out of the deal.

At dinner, we met Chris, Fran and Abigail, our new tablemates. Nicky and Peter did not make it back in time (neither did we, come to that! We were an hour late in total!). Chris is a retired train driver, and Fran(çoise) works at the Royal Mail – she sounds fairly senior, although they bickered about what her job title really means! Abigail is an apprentice engineer. And they live near me in Bedford! They seem quite lovely, although they, too, are only with us for two weeks. Landed on our feet again, hopefully. I do miss Sheila though. I hope she got off the ship okay, and is having a nice time in Rio tonight. I have no idea how she would have managed that trek to the taxis/coaches with her walker, and I did worry about her all day. I’m sure she’ll be fine, though – they are very nice to little old ladies with disabilities here (no exceptions like that obnoxious man in Salvador).

The low that has been sitting over Rio is called the South Atlantic Convergence Zone, according to Tomasz Shafenaker. So now you know. And we brought the good weather with us. People kept commenting that it was the first time in three/five (depending on who you ask) weeks that it didn’t rain all day. We had glorious sunshine all day and it was 29 in the shade. Perfect. And not nearly as humid as I was dreading it would be. Nowhere near what we had in Salvador. It’s nice to be on a ship that is a harbinger of something pleasant for a change (can you be a harbinger of something pleasant?).

The main negatives were the roadworks and the graffiti. We have never seen so much graffiti in one place. Every surface was covered. And most of it was tags, not art, sadly, so absolutely no positives to be found. Just ugly. I don’t think, even if they start tomorrow (Monday) that they could clean it all off in time for the Olympics.

But, all in all, taxi issues aside (and we’ve come to expect them, wherever we go), we had a fab day in Rio. But, remember, it is a major city – like London. What it would be like on a weekday, with commuters and traffic and roadworks and noise, I dread to think, but if you have the chance to come here on a Sunday, when the streets are relatively quiet, it’s a very pleasant place indeed.

Here endeth the first fortnight/cruise/sector.

Saturday – sea day before Rio

That was one of the worst night’s sleep I have ever experienced afloat. First the fire thing. Then I got up a few hours later to find my toilet had malfunctioned again and was full of water. So I had to call a plumber and wait for him to come and fix it. Then, when I finally got back to sleep, I was woken by screaming cramp down the front of my left shin. And then, just to add insult to injury, my bad toe started throbbing, probably caused by too much walking on it. By the time it was time to get up, I was so completely shattered, I was barely functional.

Went up for fruit and Sudoku. The roof over the pool was closed, although it had stopped raining hours before. A lady was at the bar, talking to the F&B Manager, and trying to get him to reopen it. I went over to try to get him to turn the music off. It had been quiet, and then he turned up and made them turn it on. So I went over and told him we didn’t want it on and he should turn it back off again. He said “It’s policy”. I said “We’re the passengers. It’s up to us”. He phoned someone else and then turned it off. Several people thanked me.

However, one bloke and his wife came over to my table and starting verbally abusing me for making them open the roof so that they got rained on. Which is just plain stupid because (a) I didn’t get the roof opened (b) they would not have opened it if it was raining, you imbeciles. The sun was shining. Then they walked off. I went after them and said that (a) I didn’t ask for the roof to be opened, (b) it’s not raining and (c) he had no business speaking to me like that. He showed me his glasses, with ONE drop of water on them. Moron. No way that was dislodged by the movement of the roof, or just condensation that had built up on the inside. What an idiot. He just kept yelling until an Ents Officer came over and asked him to stop. He made a right prat of himself. Several people came over to check I was okay and thank me for standing up to him.

So we had lunch and discussed our plans for Rio tomorrow. Dad went down to the Excursions Desk to ask for a better map than the one in the port guide. The girl said – and, remember, she sells excursions; it is her job to help passengers enjoy their visit as much as possible, by providing as much information and guidance as possible; that’s what she is paid to do – “I have my own personal map, but don’t tell anyone, otherwise they’ll all come and ask for one”. Er, yes, they will. THAT’S YOUR JOB, you cretin. That’s what passes for customer service on this ship. Yes, I’ll help you, but don’t tell anyone, otherwise they’ll expect me to help all of them too. Good grief. In the old days, when people gave a damn about doing their jobs properly, if they had a good map, they would put a pile of photocopies on Reception and everyone could just help themselves. Apparently, now, we’re not allowed a decent map. What a disgraceful attitude. Do we think she realises what an utter fool she is? What a shame the customer service questionnaire for the first sector is sitting on my bed waiting to be completed…

Then a swim – 12 lengths this time before my arms gave up. Not very warm today. Obviously relies on direct sunlight for some of its heating. And we have had none of that today. Met an Australian lady who used to live down the road from me, and works in the legal books business. Promised me a discount! Very nice. One woman pointed out that what we are really doing equates more to sea swimming than pool swimming, because of the waves and the currents. It is very hard work, it must be said, so I can’t disagree with her.

Then, not long after I got out, the roof closed. And the rain really did start. We have collided with the low that has been lying over Rio all week. It clouded over so quickly, they had to turn the lights on, on the deck, at 3.30 in the afternoon. In mid summer. Unfortunately, they didn’t QUITE close the roof entirely. I’m sure it is normally watertight. But not today. There’s enough of a gap to be able to hear the drops splatting onto the sun loungers below. That’s not my fault either.

Today’s BBC report regarding Zika virus was filmed today in Salvador. Weird to see the places we were yesterday on the news. Weather tomorrow for Rio: 29 and possibly the only dry day of the past week or the next. Montevideo 37. Hope that breaks before we get there!

Tonight at dinner we had to say goodbye to Sheila, who is disembarking tomorrow. She has been a delightful dinner companion and I will miss her dreadfully. We went to look for the photo we had taken together at the last party, but at nearly thirteen quid a copy, we decided not to buy it! We swapped addresses and I took a photo of her, so you can see her lovely face, and we have something to remember her by.

All the photos will be uploaded as soon as I have some free wifi with a decent signal, which, sadly, hasn’t happened yet. Still hoping.

0130 am UPDATE: Things I know. Of all the announcements that wake you and are GUARANTEED to ensure you do not fall back asleep any time soon, this may be #1: Assessment Party Deck 9 Forward Zone 5. I have no idea what Zone 5 is but Assessment Party means FIRE. FOR REAL.  Less than 300 yards from where you are sitting in your fluffiest pyjamas listening to your heart pound in your ears. And Deck 9 Forward is the spa and salon. Where things like saunas and hair dryers and all manner of flammable goodies are located. The fact that a First Aid Team was also mustered does not ease my mind in the slightest. That just makes it sound like an electrical fire. SO not dozing back off again any time soon, it’s not even funny.

Second announcement while I was typing this: both teams have been stood down, so problem solved, presumably with a fire extinguisher or local sprinklers, or a false alarm entirely, but that was far too exciting for my liking. Sleep will evade me for a while, I think.

Immediate follow-up announcement by the Captain: He is explaining what happened. There was a report of smoke by the Neptune Pool (next to the salon), but all teams that were mustered (as we heard) have now been stood down. Sorry for disturbing you, thank you and good night. That was a long fourteen minutes for me, so I can’t imagine what it was like for them.

Fire is the most worrying thing on a ship. Not water. Fire is insatiably hungry and has no respect for watertight bulkheads. It only needs air, and we have plenty of that. And something to eat. And we ARE plenty of that. The trouble with fire is, where do you run away to? If you’re in an office block, you go out the building down the fire escapes and stand outside for an hour in the freezing cold wishing you had picked up your coat, not your phone, when the alarm blasted through the ceiling and rang with deafening insistence until you hit save and left. If you’re at home, you go out the front door or the back, or jump from a window if you must. Where do you ‘pop outside’ to on a ship? There is nowhere to run. Watertight doors can close around a hole, and trap the water in a confined area. Even Titanic had those and that was the tech a hundred years ago – we’ve improved on it a bit since then. Hell, we now deliberately take IN water, as I have explained already, for ballast, so we have two-way valves for that. But fire is the frightening one. Which is why I am still typing like I have neat caffeine flowing through my veins and it is SO unlikely that I will be asleep by 2am, or any time soon for that matter. Ever heard your nerves jangle? Trust me, it’s an actual sound and sensation. Like an internal fire alarm or alarm clock that vibrates throughout your entire system. And it takes a while to calm down again, believe you me.

Thinking about it, it is, essentially, adrenaline – fight or flight – flooding your system. Every announcement starts with a ‘bing bong’ sound to get your attention. If you’re asleep, you aren’t by bong. Your system is tuned in to that sound. Ever read the phrase “Sat bolt upright in bed” and wondered if people really do it? They do if the bing bong goes off. You discover tummy muscles you never knew you had. Then the phrase ‘assessment party’ percolates through your consciousness, and suddenly you are looking around for where your clothes are, how quickly you can dress, and what coats, medicines, etc you would need to grab if this becomes a full muster, and how fast you can grab them all in the dark if the lights go out (and where your torch is). The sea is about 80 degrees here, allegedly, so layers would not be an issue – remember you can’t wear too much if you’re going to get the lifejacket over the top. All this rushes through your head in the split seconds after the bing bong. So by the time they stand down fourteen minutes later, my nerves are wound so tight, you could play a tune on them. Oh well. Might as well give sleep a try. Although I’m not fancying my odds much.

Please note all timings are now approximate. We have gone back forward an hour, probably, and I no longer have the slightest idea what time it is, or day, for that matter. Like my body clock wasn’t messed up enough already. This has not been helpful from my personal perspective. Mind you, it has probably put the fear of God into the crew. They don’t often get mustered FOR REAL at one in the morning. Thank goodness.

22^nd January – I think it is a Friday – Salvador, Brazil

No rain. Remember the talk of flash floods and thunderstorms? This forecast has now been transferred to Rio, not Salvador. Okay, the humidity was high. You could pretty much touch the air. And there was about half an hour of what an optimistic Brit might refer to as spitting, but you had to pay really close attention to notice – there was not much enthusiasm behind it. And that was it for the moisture. It was in the air and it stayed there.

We walked into town. Can’t take the mobility scooter on cobbles – mum likes her vertebrae to stay in the same order – and anyway, the road tarmac here has a tendency to stop a foot before the kerb, which would not have been conducive to stress-free wheeled travel.  Luckily, the ship’s berth was smack bang where we needed it to be. We came out of the terminal, got harassed by a significant number of taxi drivers, who all suddenly lost all semblance of English once they realised you were asking for directions, not prices, and then walked the few blocks to the funicular. This was without a shadow of a doubt the highlight of my day. I LOVE funiculars. Cable cars? Meh. Lifts (of which Salvador has 16 due to its split level layout – half on top of the cliff, half at the bottom)? Meh. But a funicular is a whole other world of joy. They call theirs an inclined railway, I think – my Portuguese is pretty much non-existent, so I may be wrong on this. The term is ‘plano inclinado’, but I have no idea what ‘plano’ means. I’m guessing at railway.

The port talk woman said that everyone is happy to accept dollars. Erm. Nope. Wrong again, lady! So we went to the café next door to the funicular entrance, where a man sits outside and he is the “Cambio” or money changer (these men are dotted all around the touristy areas). He slightly gouged us on the exchange rate, but we weren’t that fussed. All for 15 Reals (about 20p?!) for me to ride the funicular. Turns out old folk go for free. Worth noting for future reference.

So up we went, in a beautiful, wrought-iron Victorian car, with surprisingly comfy wooden benches. We had to wait a few minutes for the car at the top to fill up, as it works on a simple counterweight + gravity principle. And then up we went. Sadly, it didn’t take long, but it was definitely the best bit of my day.

At the top, we found ourselves in the old town, known as the Pelourinho district. Or, as the port talk miserable cow put it, not a really old town, but just built to look like it. Really? Cos I don’t know how many buildings you walk past every day that were built in 1911, love, but that is over a century ago. I guess they’re allowed to call that old. We can’t all be Skara Brae, you know. And as they have gone to all the trouble of putting the dates on the buildings and all 365 churches in this town, maybe we should just let them call it the Old Town. Urgh, her negativity is really starting to grind me down now.

The buildings were in a variety of colonial styles – French-style ironwork and balconies and some Dutch-style roof patterns. Which bearing in mind this part of the world was mostly the Spanish and Portuguese (I thought), shows just how styles influence each other and how people copy the best bits from other cultures and societies. Some of them were rather confused confections (yes, they really did look like cakes!), but they are busy restoring and repainting ready for the summer, so they all look very pretty. The colour scheme here is pastel walls (pink, yellow, blue, turquoise) with white woodwork. Very nice indeed.

The flag of Brazil is green and yellow with a bit of blue in the middle. I checked. But here in Salvador, the local colours are red, green and yellow. They seem quite convinced that they are all (a) African (b) in Africa and/or (c) Jamaican and (d) in Jamaica. Entire shops sold nothing but African art, photographs, carvings, prints, beads and dreadlocks glued to hats, and there were numerous street stalls for plaiting and braids and cornrows. It was rather odd. This is South America, people, pay attention. Wrong continent.

We wandered around until we found a café. Not many to be had, funnily enough (normally they’re epidemic in frequency), and most were shut until about 1pm, which meant a LOT of cruise passengers had walked past their closed shutters, including two entire walking tours. In other countries, we have had the opposite problem – you can buy morning coffee and pastries til the cows come home, but no one serves lunch (i.e. Iceland, as I recall). We went to the Café Cuco, which has beautiful toilets, but pitiful wifi. And the service is so slow, I think they must lose money hand over fist, because people just get tired of waiting for attention, and leave without paying their bill.

Outside the café, a young Christian tied a free ribbon around my wrist with three knots and asked me to make a wish with each one he tied – a gift from his church. I don’t know what sort of Christianity he follows, but I’m not sure wish granting, per se, was in any version of it that I ever learned (at dinner, Nicky suggested it might be a Voodoo influence/convergence). He also gave me a little shell on a string to put around my neck. I don’t much like these, because I think shells belong in the sea, but he was quite insistent. The rest of his wares were hideous lumpy necklaces that I wouldn’t wear under any circumstances, and anyway, I had no currency, so we parted ways – quite amicably considering the amount of freebies I was now wearing. When I found mum and dad, mum, too, had one of his ribbons around her wrist, which I duly removed for her. He was a busy boy!

When we had finally succeeded in paying for our drinks, we took the elevator back down (disappointing – no windows, stick to the funicular – but still free for mum and dad) to the indoor market, which was, as with all such places we visit, bustling and fun. Mum bought a long-sleeved blouse, because she hadn’t packed any (I’ll explain why we need them in a sec), and I got a Salvador t-shirt and some postcards. We then went upstairs to the restaurant, and sat on the balcony with chicken and chips and Coke Zeros, watching the boats in the marina bob up and down in the surprisingly choppy waters, and the mounted military police passing by below.

Long sleeves. Zika virus. We had a letter yesterday evening, warning us about Zika virus. If you’ve been watching the news, you’ll know. It causes a bit of fever and conjunctivitis, if you’re healthy to start with, but the main problem is birth defects if you’re bitten while pregnant (pretty sure Mum and Dad are safe on that one. So am I, frankly). Microencephaly cases have gone up from 150 last year to 3,996 so far this year – this means babies born with skulls too small for their brains to grow properly. But, and this is the important bit from our point of view, they are DAY-BITING mosquitoes. Usually, mosquitoes come out at dusk, by which time we are back on board and smugly sailing out on the evening tide. But these are day-biting buggers. So we were told to wear long sleeves and long trousers and DEET. All of which I did, but virtually no one else we saw had! Mum thought she should get a long-sleeved blouse, at least for the remainder of the affected places we will be visiting. The full list is: Barbados, Bolivia, Brazil, Colombia, Ecuador, El Salvador, French Guiana, Guadeloupe, Guatemala, Guyana, Haiti, Honduras, Martinique, Mexico, Panama, Paraguay, Puerto Rico, Saint Martin/Saant Maarten, Suriname, Venezuela. Here’s a memory game you can play. Can you name all the ones we will be visiting on this cruise, without looking at the itinerary?

The surprisingly choppy waters? When we got back on board, Dad spotted that the harbour wall is not a harbour wall. It’s just a breaker, with free-flowing water going around both ends. Which is why the inside is not much calmer than the outside, and why all the marina boats were bouncing around so cheerfully.

On the way to dinner (BOB was 4.30), I passed the on board shops. They have a whole section of memorabilia for this cruise (W16, which apparently means World Cruise 2016, despite the fact that we were told it can’t be called a worldy unless it’s a circumnavigation). There is even a slogan: “The Greatest Show Is Earth”. Very nice. Just one problem. As soon as I looked at the mugs, tea towels, etc, I spotted a mistake. They have picked out the continents in blue dots with red dots for the ports we are visiting. We aren’t visiting mainland Spain or Portugal or Gibraltar. Unless something changes radically! And yet, there is a red dot in the bottom left-hand corner of the European continent. Oops. Seriously, does no one proofread ANYTHING any more?! Hundreds of tea towels, t-shirts, bags and mugs, ALL with the wrong ports marked on them. It would be funny if it wasn’t so sad.

Thursday – probably. 21st?

I am having a ludicrously good hair day today. I don’t want to go to bed because it will muss it up.  I don’t want to do anything but play with the perfect curls and wag my ponytail in front of the mirror, like some demented puppy trying to catch its own tail. Apparently the trick is to go swimming and then remember that the water in the shower is REALLY soft, and not use too much shampoo and conditioner, as you have been doing for the past fortnight. You live and learn. Mind you, I couldn’t have over-soaped anyway, because my arms ache too much from swimming to hold them above my head for too long. The current was even stronger today, as we are both pitching and rolling. Not by much. You’d have to stare pretty hard at the horizon to even notice it. But enough to make swimming in a straight line, with no mini-tsunamis smacking you in the ear sporadically (still deaf from yesterday as regards the right ear), nigh on impossible.

Tonight was Black and White formal night, and I got in my usual, not very high, dudgeon about women not wearing black and/or white. Seriously, it’s hardly a major ask. But we saw blues and purples and bright red and gold lamé (I shit you not) and even one woman wearing rainbow shoes. That was not a mistake. That was a deliberate LOOK AT ME act of defiance/ignorance/ stupidity/ attention-seeking/whatever. Everyone ELSE looked chic and elegant, and the whole thing was lovely. And that last sentence had nothing whatsoever to do with a free and gratis G ‘n’ T on an empty stomach. Oh no, not in the slightest. I found Sheila by the pool at the cocktail party before dinner where they hand out the Only Free Booze On Board, and we debated the pros and cons (mostly cons) of every woman’s outfit, particularly focussing on those centred on the less monochrome parts of the spectrum. Dinner was delicious. Turns out, what the chef is REALLY good at, is cottage pie. Divine. Chalk that one up for future reference.

Tried to do some yoga this morning. Boy, am I stiff! This may take a bit of time to work out the kinks that appear to have developed over the past few weeks, no, months, of neglect. Did I go to yoga in December? I don’t think I did. Which means it’s over six weeks. Well, that certainly explains a lot. I didn’t hurt myself. I just found that when I tried to do things I was taking for granted that I could do in November, the necessary limbs, muscles and joints were not nearly as keen as they had been before. Stiff isn’t really the word. I moved a bit like Brian the Robot from Confused dot com. Short, jerky movements that didn’t achieve the intended effect. And my breathing was a mixture of short and panicked gasps, with added long sighs on the outbreath, to basically empty my lungs and reduce the risk of hyperventilation/ getting too high on excess oxygen intake. Oh well, I’ll have another go tomorrow, and hope things loosen up a bit soon. I will have an extra hour to play with, because the clocks go back again tonight to GMT-3.

Talking of tomorrow, it’s Salvador in northern Brazil. 28 in the shade and, to put it politely, has been chucking it down all week, to such an extent that there have been warnings of flash floods. Oh. Goody. That’ll be fun then! It looks like a pretty enough place – especially the old town. I have found that the trick with the port talks (which are recorded in the theatre and then shown on the telly in the cabins) is to watch them with the sound off. That way, you learn a bit about the best places to visit, without having to listen to all the negative scare-mongering and lies with which the lady giving the talks inevitably peppers her speeches. See? Every problem has a solution.

Then we will have a sea day to recover/prepare for Rio, which seems to be a fairly daunting undertaking in and of itself, and which will in no way be tempered by the fact that, due to all the construction going on in preparation for the summer, there will be no transport available to get us from the ship to the town. No shuttle buses, probably no taxis. Nowt. I hope it’s not far, because otherwise people are going to be right annoyed. Not least the 600 people disembarking and the 600 embarking.

Our mood will probably not be improved by having to give back the hour that we gain tonight, as Rio is GMT-2. Yes, that’s right. Two cities in the same country, on the same coast, but in different time zones.  I can’t imagine that causes any problems for the locals, or the administration of the country, or, for that matter, the Olympics/Football/other sporting events that keep flooding into this country. Who comes up with these ideas?! You couldn’t put a kink in it (Kiribati-style) so that the whole country is in one time zone?! Really?! How do outsiders do business with more than one city at a time?! Ludicrous. Come to think of it, I can’t imagine it’s easy to process speeding tickets from automatic cameras here, if they have them. The complexities are ludicrous. When you send an email, it arrives an hour before it was sent! How can you compile evidence of a crime using date and time stamps?! No wonder the country is apparently a bit of a mess.

Stopped for a hair wag. Sorry. It really is very pretty. It looks the way I hoped it would look when I started using Finesse shampoo and conditioner back in 1987. The girl in the advert had such perfect curls. I wanted hair like hers. It didn’t look like it then, but it does today. I’m not even sure they make Finesse any more! But Herbal Essences (the green ones) has now (finally) really hit its stride. I just hope it lasts.

Here endeth the fourth sea day of four, and the penultimate sea day of this sector/cruise (which ends at Rio, where the next sector starts). Those going home have had a very nice two-week holiday. I’m barely bedded in. The waiters are trained, but my cabin steward still needs work. Well, tomorrow is another day.

Monday 18^th January – sea day 1 of 2

I am so tired, I don’t know what I’m doing. I slept fine, but I’m shattered. This is what slowing down does to you. It makes everything feel like you’re wading through molasses. I’ll just have to take it easy and hope I rejuvenate a bit later.

My hair wishes to point out at this juncture that the sudden increase in humidity may be part of the problem – the frizz quotient has certainly gone through the roof (I may not see my curls again for quite some time), so it is entirely possible that the heat and humidity are sapping my strength a little too.  Humidity and my family do not get on. I’ve warned Dad that Salvador currently 35 degrees with thunder storms, but he’s choosing to ignore me.

Dear Longines, Thank you. Thank you for taking a display case outside the jewellery shop on board and filling it with a four foot square photo of Simon Baker. Just thank you. It’s the only eye candy on board, and I do enjoy walking past it every so often. I asked if I could have it and they said not while he remains the Longines ambassador. *sigh*

Today I did nothing. And I mean nothing. Got up, got dressed, ate some fruit. Had some lunch. Did some Sudoku. Read/finished my second book. Went to dinner. Went to the show. Went to bed. That’s it. that’s the whole day right there.

The books: The first was the Assassin’s Apprentice by Robin Hodd and the second was Black Hills by Nora Roberts. Both thoroughly engrossing. The former, a fantasy adventure set in a primitive land by an imaginary coast; the second, a modern-day thriller/murder mystery, including wireless CCTV cameras, and email threats. At dinner, Sheila casually pointed out that she is on her fourth book this week. But as the Nora Roberts was about three times the size of the Robin Hodd (and weighed about the same as my pink laptop), I’ve probably read about the same amount of wordage as she has!  Suddenly my excessively large pile of books brought along for this cruise is not looking quite so excessive.

The Headliners’ first show was called Destination Dance, and was a sort of compilation of different forms of dance. ‘Roxanne’ done as a tango was a new one on me, but seemed to work, but their flamenco (done to Ravel’s ‘Bolero’) did not (I’m pretty sure you’re supposed to stamp your feet, for a start…), but the Riverdance was step-perfect and very enjoyable. I was a little critical of their Can-Can, but maybe that’s just me. IMO, their skirts were held too high and the splits were only done at the end. Every Francophile knows that there is a set way of doing the Can-Can correctly, and they hadn’t quite got it right. Close, and perfectly enjoyable, but not spot on, like the Riverdance was. I’ve seen other Headliner groups do a better job of the Can-Can on other ships. Perhaps they have changed choregraphers, somewhere along the line. All in all, however, very enjoyable.

I was intending to go to the later show, and to go to the cinema first to see Mission Impossible: Rogue Nation, but the cinema was suffering from “technical issues”, which were not pointed out until AFTER I had bolted my meal and legged it the entire length of the ship to get there in time. Ta, everso, for that. Really enjoyed the indigestion. So went to the early show instead.

A longer day than I have had for a while, so much yawning now in progress. Time for bed, said Zebedee. Clocks go back tonight again, to GMT-2.

20^th January – Sea Day 3 of 4

Had quite a busy day today, for a sea day. Started with fruit and Sudoku, as usual, on the open deck, in the shade – where it was 82 degrees again, although the sky was more cloudy, and it was much more breezy, so the sun did not feel quite so fierce. So I imagine people will be quite lobster-hued by dinner, as people are nothing if not gullible about cloud and wind entailing a weaker UV factor; of course, neither do any such thing.

After some lunch, the music got stupidly loud, so I moved to the other pool, which was much quieter. Finished my first painting – a postcard that John challenged me to do. Not sure how happy I am with the result. May have another go tomorrow.

Mum and dad went to the Crossing the Line party as their quiz partners were participating – every ship in the world that crosses the Equator has to ask permission from Neptune to do so. Every time you cross. This is usually an excuse for dowsing the newest crew members in water with varying degrees of added humiliation tagged on where possible. On P&O ships, it takes place at one of the pools.

I also went for a swim (in the other pool (ironically named the Neptune Pool, as opposed to the Aquarius we normally frequent)). Only managed six lengths. It’s quite exhausting swimming against the flow of the water, which follows the movement of the ship. The current is surprisingly strong. An hour later, I am still deaf in one ear, which is full of water.

Had a lovely long chat with Keith. He tootles around the ship on a little mobility scooter and we’ve chatted to him before. Turns out, he left home without his wallet. No credit cards, no cash, nothing. He has had to make a bank transfer to pay P&O for his onboard expenses. He was worrying about what he will do when he gets to Sydney. I suggested he ask Reception to cash a cheque (he managed to pack that, at least). Or ask his brother-in-law to post his wallet out to meet him in Oz. He will consider both options, neither of which had occurred to him. I suppose in the heat of finding myself on the opposite side of the world to my wallet, I would not find it easy to think too clearly either.

19^th January  – don’t ask what day it is, I have no idea

It’s a sea day. I know that much. I think it’s sea day two of four. Probably. And we are now at GMT -2, which means that when I look at the clock it says 8.30am, but my brain is saying it’s 10.30am and that, really, even I should be vertical by now. Jet lag is rubbish in any direction and at any speed. Anyone who tells you that doing it one hour at a time makes it easier is a rotten fibber, and you should check their undergarments are not smouldering.

Having internet connection issues, which is very annoying. May have to go and have a word with someone. Can’t stand much more of this. It’s both irritating and expensive, and I don’t see why we should be stuck with it. Like paying 20p a minute isn’t extortionate enough already, that doesn’t even get you a decent enough signal to do anything useful! And, yes, that does equate to £12 an hour. Which is more than I pay per month at home. It’s eye-watering, and I think it most unkind that even that does not ensure we get a decent signal so we can do the things we are trying to. P&O are quite shameless on this. Other lines give their passengers free wifi, but P&O is quite happy to keep fleecing us. It makes me very sad, that I am just so obviously and blatantly a cash cow to them. Not content with making me pay twice for every morsel of food I eat (single person uplift is 75%), they then squeeze me again on the internet fees. I may have to severely restrict my usage, in which case, these posts may become significantly more sporadic. There are, of course, only 30-odd ports on this cruise, so if I have money problems, I will have to reduce my blog postings to when I am in port and can get cheap/free wifi to do the uploading. It doesn’t take long, even on board, but I am starting to resent every single second. If I had a decent signal, then it might seem reasonable, but right now, I’m afraid it does not.

1500 UPDATE: Have found a decent signal. Sadly, at, take a guess, yup, The Other End of the Ship. Typical.

It is 28 in the shade today, which is a bit of a jump from the 24 of yesterday, but it is the humidity that is knocking people sideways. The air is so moist that simply walking across deck entails a layer of moisture sticking to your skin. I feel like a Coke bottle straight out of the fridge. The moisture just coalesces out of the air because your skin is cooler than the air around you. It is really dreadfully stuffy, even outdoors. And I’m drenched – not all sweat, mostly humidity. I suppose I should sit out in it, in order to acclimatise, but after four hours in the shade already, the novelty has worn off, so I’ve come indoors for a bit. Might be time to dig out the cozzie and take the plunge. Literally. May even have to actually go out in the sun, but I’m not sure there’s enough sun cream in the world! Even if I swim, I will definitely need my sun hat. Now all I have to do is find it…

2200. I am quite sure that when I go on about how much more fierce the sunlight and burn risk is when you are at sea, you all just nod and say, ‘yeah, yeah, we believe you; it can’t be THAT much stronger’. So I will add here a photo of my sunburn, incurred today, in the SHADE. I did not, at any point, venture out into direct sunlight. This is what you get in the SHADE. And yes, it is quite sore, thanks for asking.

Film update: Went to the (now working) cinema and saw The Man From UNCLE. Not bad. Not sure about some of the handheld camerawork, Mr Ritchie, but other than that, very enjoyable.

A few ship facts I have learned:

Arcadia can produce/desalinate 250 tonnes of drinking water per day. We use 700 tonnes a day. So we top up in every port.

As we use up the fuel in our tanks, we have to let in sea water as ballast to stop us from popping up out of the water and being too light. When we change oceans, we have to change the ballast water. When we get to some ports, they will test our ballast water, to ensure it not from the wrong ocean. During the Cold War, both sides deliberately took the wrong water and dumped it in the other side’s water – Russia put the wrong water into the Great Lakes and the Americans put the wrong water into the Black Sea. The fungus and bacteria makeup is so different in different waters, that you can destroy entire fish stocks and eco systems in this way.

Our fuel consumption is nineteen feet per gallon.

It takes us about ten minutes to travel one minute of arc, so to speak. We are big circle sailing, because the shortest distance around a sphere (or an oblate spheroid, for that matter) is not in a straight line.

The captain said we would cross the Equator at 3.30am. He was wrong. By 20 seconds. See photo.