R401 Part 5

Sad postscript to San Juan. The day I finally got there, Chita Rivera died.  She was the original Anita on my soundtrack tape of West Side Story.  Very sad.  But if I was of a superstitious nature, I can see how that would seem an uncanny coincidence. Humans love a pattern.

Anyway, that was San Juan on Tuesday.  Where I managed to contract heat exhaustion.  Heat Exhaustion is the precursor to heat stroke/sun stroke (now considered the same thing). Those will kill you.  Heat exhaustion just makes you have stomach cramps, throw up a bit and sleep a lot.  So I spent the next day in as cold a shower as I could muster/ stand.  We had never intended to get off in Sint Maarten anyway, so I could not have timed it better! We have been here plenty of times before. It’s all very lovely, and it’s fun playing spot the difference between the Dutch bit and the French bit (more rules and road markings on the French side, and the disabled parking spaces have official signs saying Stupidity is not a disability, park somewhere else, in French).  Philipsburg is where we moor and you have to taxi to Marigot for the French bit.  Philipsburg is VERY touristy, although they haven’t yet quite grasped that they can price gouge on Diet Cokes as much as they do on diamonds!

However, Philipsburg is NOT wheelchair friendly.  The boardwalk along the front isn’t bad, and it is right on the sand. It’s called the Boardwalk, but it’s actually a tarmacked, pedestria nised road. But step one road back from the front, so to speak, and it’s a mobility nightmare – cobbled roads and pavements with neither dipped kerbs nor even wide enough pavements for both wheels at once of even the narrowest wheelchair.  We did once find a disabled loo, or what passes for one here, but it was in the basement of a hotel, and mum was not impressed with having to take the lift down and back up again. Particularly as, when we got to it, it was just a cubicle with a wider door – no handles whatsoever. The people are very friendly, but this is not an ideal location for anyone with mobility needs.  Of course, that being said, I haven’t been ashore here for a few years, so there may have been improvements. I was too ill to go and check this year.

So, as a result of the fierce sun and heat in San Juan, I spent Wednesday in bed, or stark nekkid and letting the water evaporate the heat out of my skin. 

Here endeth January 2024.

Thursday – yes, that’s three ports in three days, for those paying attention, was Dominica (pronounced DominEEKa).  Quite a pleasant little place.  There were two other cruise ships in, a Seabourn one and a German one, with the splendidly thought-out name, Mein Schiff 4.  Someone needs a medal for coming up with that one. Luckily the other two were parked at the other end of the town, so we had our bit all to ourselves.  Dad and I pottered along the quayside. Once again, the sun was white hot and fierce, and the humidity so high that the roof of the ship’s canteen had condensation on it! I took a look before we went ashore, and calculated how far we’d likely get and spotted a resting place halfway. When we got to the halfway point, Dad wanted a sit down – I felt very organised! There were some seats outside what looked like a little café, so I went to ask if they would mind if we just had a cheeky sit down for a couple of minutes. When I opened the door, I was hit by a blast of cold air so strong, it knocked me backwards. Turns out, it’s an ICE CREAM shop! They had FOUR full-size wall-mounted air con units going full blast. It was FAB.  So Dad negotiated the two rather large steps, and we went and sat inside – he had vanilla from a little pot, and I had an apple lolly.  I cannot describe the virulent shade of green that it had, but it tasted lovely.  Sadly – or maybe deliberately?! – the shop was barely visible from the outside, and we were the only non-locals in there. If you’re ever in Dominica, look for Sweet Novelties in the little stone house with pale blue shutters. The entrance is around the side. You’re welcome.

Then we plodded on a little further, to the waterfront supermarket, where I replenished my stock of cotton wool and a nice, very tall, assistant found dad a chair.  We considered making purchases, so I scouted the chocolates and so on.  There was a post-Christmas discount shelf, to clear the Pringles with Santas on, etc.  They had three different flavours of Terry’s Chocolate Orange – dark, milk and mint. But as they were reduced to TEN DOLLARS, we gave it a miss.  We both love a chocolate orange, but not at that price!

Final thought on Dominica. Hello Kitty is VERY popular here. She’s even on the Dominica souvenir teatowels!

Friday? It must be St Vincent, as in “and the Grenadines”.  Dad rather overdid it yesterday, so I went ashore alone.  As we didn’t come ashore here last year, due to very Blighty-like precipitation, it was nice to finally get a look.  I couldn’t go far.  I had a pain in my left foot, that I had initially assumed was a patch of sunburn where I had failed to spray, and was walking with a pronounced and quite painful limp.  I managed to buy a tshirt and a fridge magnet, and, walking stick in hand, danced as best I could to the live reggae band, who never stopped playing for the entire hour and a half I was listening. When I got back on board, I went to the doctor. My red, sore patch had become a lump during the night, and kept me awake.  After repeatedly jamming his thumb into the most sensitive spot he could find, Dr John concluded that I have developed plantar fasciitis! Yay! Ow.  The doctor sent me away with a healthy bill, an exercise resistance band, and a flea in my ear about unsupportive footwear.  That’s me told.

Tomorrow, one of our favourite waitresses, Shaheema, disembarks. She’s quitting the ships altogether and going back to airline stewardessing. Everyone at the quiz showered her with kisses and cards and good lucks.  She and I became friends last October, or was it the October before? It’s been a while, anyway! I’ll miss her friendly smile every day.

I am posting this again, as the first upload seems to have failed.

R401 Part 4

HELLOOOOO SAN JUAN, capital of Puerto Rico! A US territory but not a state (I dunno either).

Bye bye cold water from the taps.

THIS is sunshine. Proper. Blue sky. Much humidity. Good breeze.

Even the roof is now mended and open! Let the holiday commence!

I have wanted to see San Juan in Puerto Rico ever since I was a little girl and my mum gave me the Broadway recording of West Side Story on cassette. 

Puerto Rico,

You lovely island . . .

Island of tropical breezes.

Always the pineapples growing,

Always the coffee blossoms blowing . . .

Puerto Rico . . .

You ugly island . . .

Island of tropic diseases.

Always the hurricanes blowing,

Always the population growing . . .

And the money owing,

And the babies crying,

And the bullets flying.

I like the island Manhattan.

Smoke on your pipe and put that in!

I like to be in America!

O.K. by me in America!

Ev’rything free in America

For a small fee in America!

I like the city of San Juan.

I know a boat you can get on.

Hundreds of flowers in full bloom.

Hundreds of people in each room!

…

When I will go back to San Juan.

When you will shut up and get gone?

Everyone there will give big cheer!

Everyone there will have moved here!

Those were some of the first lyrics I ever learned by heart (excluding songs and hymns at school). I played that song until the tape stretched. So finally coming here felt like quite a big deal to me.

Too hot.  Much too hot. Normally, we’d have built up to this gradually, via sunnier but more northerly climes, such as Bermuda or Madeira or Florida. But the weather has been so grey and miserable, that we’ve built up no tolerance to the sun. And now, it is hitting us, hard. It is FIERCELY hot today, and we’re not ready for it! I’m not anyway.  It was so hot on deck, that Dad thought the roof was still closed! Yes, that stifling.  He came back from his morning recce complaining about living in a greenhouse.  Luckily, as the roof WAS now open – for the first time since the replacement part boarded at Southampton – it wasn’t nearly as humid as it could have been! But the sun was white hot, and beating down like it was trying to make up for three weeks’ of lost time in one afternoon.  Most found it too hot to sunbathe, and retreated to the shade.

Anyway, I ventured ashore alone and pottered on the quayside (read: carried out an air con crawl along the shops).  Although this is, ostensibly/ to all intents and purposes, the USA, it is still an island, so prices were not low.  There were also three other ships in at the same time, so virtually everyone I saw was a tourist, mostly Americans – friendly bunch, as usual.  This is a prosperous town, not ugly but not pretty like the NOLA French Quarter, for example. There are a few forts and things to go and look at but it’s not a particularly historic kind of a place. For example, this was not Aurora’s maiden call here, but there were only seven excursions available to choose from. Tomorrow, in St Maarten, there are fifteen. With a ‘rainforest drive’, a shopping mall, a flamenco guitar show and a ‘gastronomic experience’, they were really trying, but it doesn’t seem a particularly interesting place. The largest property on the waterfront was Señor Frog’s, which is a chain of mahogany-panelled, air conditioned bars. Most Americans just seem to come ashore, stock up on crisps and wine and get back on board! I went into two pharmacies and pretty much all they were selling was Doritos!

Being America-ish, they understand the concept of helping the disabled get around. There are dipped kerbs, and most places are either level or ramped entry. However, they haven’t quite grasped the need for SEATING. Which is a shame. Nor do the elderly or infirm get priority at the tills. Which is just thoughtless.

Then I strolled back along the quayside to the ship, past some perfectly touristy market stalls, which allowed me to buy some souvenirs for friends and a fridge magnet for us.  Getting back on board, into the air con, was such a relief. I felt so ridiculous. I mean, this is what we’re here for, isn’t it?! To escape the fact that it’s single digits in the UK right now?! So why on earth am I grumpy about it being 28 in the shade?! And not just me; virtually everyone I spoke to on board was similarly whingey. Well, mostly because humans are contrary buggers, at the best of times. But also because, unfortunately, you can have too much of a good thing!

Interestingly, when they made the film of West Side Story, four years after the Broadway soundtrack was such a roaring success, Sondheim changed the lyrics of America.

Puerto Rico,

My heart’s devotion—

Let it sink back in the ocean.

Always the hurricanes blowing,

Always the population growing,

And the money owing,

And the sunlight streaming,

And the natives steaming.

So maybe the locals find it a bit hard to bear, as well!

Anyway, hopefully, my system will have learned from today and be more grateful tomorrow in St Maarten. Hopefully.

Miami was the first day on this cruise that the sun has shone. And we were neither of us well enough to go ashore. Nothing major, just feeling a bit below par for some reason. Still, had a nice lazy day.

After Miami, was supposed to be Key West. But there were weather issues (?high winds) so the stop was formally cancelled. The word ‘formally’ is very important here.  Nowadays, we all have specific insurance for cruises. These include compensation payments for missed ports. We all now receive an individually-addressed letter to our cabins for us to present to our insurers. I think the usual payout is £50 per port. Not a lot in the grand scheme of things, but P&O like it, because there’s a lot less yelling in Reception this way. Plenty of bitching on the private Facebook group, mind you, if you’re that way inclined. I was a little forlorn about the loss of my Gluten Free Key Lime Pie from Kermit’s, but never mind.

The, to quote the late, great Robin Williams, “hot and shitty”* weather resumed and humidity and solid cloud dogged us all the way to New Orleans.  The night before New Orleans, we found a rather spectacular thunderstorm, which came with us all the way up the Mississippi and stayed in NOLA with us for the entire first day of our stay. Very pretty to watch from indoors, but not much fun to wander Bourbon Street in.  And this is a different form of rain. Usually, around these ‘ere parts, you get a brief cloud burst of 10 minutes or less, followed by a couple of sticky hours while it all evaporates back off the pavements. Not in New Orleans. It did the UK thing of getting “set in” for the whole day. But still using the cloud burst setting. The rain was coming down so hard, it was bouncing back up into the air off the concrete. No one went out in that and came back unscathed.  

Day Two was less rainy but more misty. I think our thunder cloud got tired and had a lie down. On top of us and New Orleans.  At times during the day, we could barely see the other side of the river, and the people in the skyscrapers must have had a very boring day with precisely zero view out of the windows. 

We ventured ashore, as far as the shopping mall on the quayside. Big Mistake, Huge**.  Welcome to Riverwalk Outlets NOLA, The Worst Mall In America ™.  You arrive at one end, via a lift, on what appears to be therefore the first floor.  You are greeted with a Nordstrom that has internal lifts to take you up one level and bring you back down again. Don’t be confused into thinking that there is an upper level from here, there isn’t. Only Nordstrom has an up. 

So we find a map. It is laid out as if there are two levels, as per any standard shopping centre map you might find in Blighty, although, confusingly, the Level 1 that we are on seems to end with what looks like an escalator to Level B and the second diagram, underneath, is labelled Level C. Okay, odd, but okay.  So I park Dad in the food court, which is the first thing you come to (very American!),  and wander off to see what I can find for us to do, eat and/or buy.  Remember Big Mistake, Huge?  Copy and paste in here.

I’m not very good with distances at the best of times, but I reckon that mall is actually the best part of a mile long, certainly more than the half a mile Google Maps alleges. Level A does, indeed, via lift or escalator or stairs (escalator out of order) lead down to Level B.  The drop is about three feet, I reckon.  The bad bit is that, around the corner, within Level B, there is an escalator down to Level C.  But Level C is NOT underneath A or B, it’s a continuation onward! And it’s at least the same length again as Level A was. 

I made it to the other end with only one sit down on the way.  A very talkative man nagged me to let him dab my eye bags with his magic potion, so I humoured him for a few minutes, while enjoying the seating provided. I told him I saw no difference, and after encouraging me to buy some at £300 quid a tub (four tubs required, OBviously), and warning me that the website prices start at £1200 for a single tub, he finally let me go on my way.  Later on, my eye bags did look less, well, baggy, but I felt like I had PVA glue on my face and kept trying to peel it off! Nasty. Can’t imagine why anyone would choose to do that to themselves every day. Insanity and vanity are similar words for a reason!

Anyway, when I finally made it to the last shop in the mall, it was a Le Creuset! Yes, having just trudged well over half a mile, I am now going to buy the heaviest cookware in existence and then lug it all the way back down the half mile or more back to my starting point/ ship/ car/ bus. Absolutely.

It took me 45 minutes to get there and back to dad, by which point we had learned that, (a) there is ZERO mobility assistance anywhere in this mall – no buggies, no wheelchairs for hire, precious little seating, not even a disabled toilet.  No Shopmobility here. And also, Gluten Free is not a concept that anyone here has ever even heard of, never mind actually stocking. The blank stares were a wonder to behold. Took me right back.

So we went back to the ship and passed out, utterly knackered and somewhat disappointed. We did have plans to go further afield, but that mall broke us, physically and mentally. I had even downloaded the local bus app, in order to buy trolleybus tickets.  Oh well, never mind. Maybe next time.  Instead, we ate on the ship (which, admittedly, we have derided others for doing in the past, but we didn’t have much choice!), and gazed out as the mist rolled in with the tide, and gradually deleted the freight tankers heading past us down toward the open sea. 

Please note, New Orleans is not a sea port; it is a river port.  It’s about 80 miles upriver from the delta/ gulf (this is a very rough reckoning based on it taking us almost exactly eight hours at about 10 knots to get back into open water).  As neither of us sleep very well when the water is too still, even in my utterly shattered condition (woke at 4pm the following day), I was awake (however briefly!) when we got back into the moving waters at about 1am.

Side note: either the muzak is getting marginally less awful, or I’m getting more tolerant in my old age. Recent efforts have included Can You Feel The Love Tonight, on the pan pipes, which was actually rather lovely, although Get Into the Groove wasn’t quite so successful on the same instrument.  Nikita on the harp was not a success, although Lady in Red was.  Abba seem to write stuff that works well on the accordion; both Chiquitita and I have a dream were not just bearable, but bordering on being actually enjoyable.  The Last Waltz on the solo trumpet is still being considered by the judges.

*Good Morning, Vietnam.

** Pretty Woman.

Rather ironic postscript to Part 1. I was locked out of the internet again, so I had to go to Reception to get let back in AGAIN, just so that I could upload it for your reading pleasure.

Part 2

Warning: This post is going to be a bit of a rambling hotch potch of random stuff, as it has been written over the passage of a week, rather than in one chunk.

As we did not disembark at Madeira, it wasn’t until we got to Hamilton, Bermuda that we found out that our photos had also been wiped from the system, and we had to have our photos taken for the ?third ?fourth time so that, when someone comes aboard with our ID/cruise card, they can see it ain’t us.  So not quite all solved just yet…

We have a new travelling companion. His name is Cedric and he is a Very Smol Duck. Someone on board is gifting baby ducks all over the ship. It’s very sweet and is causing a lot of smiles. They post anonymously on the Facebook group and distribute about a dozen a day. It’s delightful.

Poor Aurora is very tired. Freezers are breaking down, flooring panels are cracking, chair leather is worn and frayed, and they still haven’t fixed the ‘retractable’ roof, even though Richard has assured me the part needed is now on board. She’s due for a refit later this year, and there’s a lot of “mañana” going around. Although, to be fair, the cleaning has been very thorough, and we were accepted into the US without any issues.  I suspect that, now we have passed muster, there will be significantly less cleaning and repairing from here on in! The US is very picky about cleanliness. We’re not even allowed to wash our windows in US waters, in case we spill cleaning liquids into the sea.

We met up with James in Bermuda, as he now lives there.  Although first we had to walk the length of the ship into a headwind so strong, we had to lean into it about 45 degrees! He picked us up in his lovely new car and drove us around all day, bless him. We went to a beautiful restaurant for lunch – one of the best meals Dad has ever eaten, no less (Lido Café at Elbow Beach).  James took us to see a cast iron lighthouse, which was rather cool. Not many of those in the world.  We did a little shopping for essentials, and then he showed us his flat and his office. His desk has a, to paraphrase him, “unfortunately very distractingly lovely” view.  His flat is quite bare, which is very James. But it has a 50 inch television.  He never used to even own a television. But his new wife, Julia, works for the BBC, so…  He said that when she requested a 50 inch screen, he replied he had never heard of anything so preposterous. So they compromised and now he has a 50 inch television.  She lives in Miami, so we didn’t see her.

There are a LOT of golf courses in Bermuda. People on the Eastern Seaboard of the United States pop over to Bermuda for the weekend to play golf. It’s about an hour and a half flight – about the same as London to Paris. They drive on the left, in right-hand drive cars, and their speedometers are in miles per hour, but their speed limits are in km/h. I think the island maximum is 35 kph.  It’s only 20 square miles, and has three roads – called North (Shore) Road, Middle Road, and, you’ve guessed it, South Road. That’s it. It’s all rather lovely.  Only the tiniest fly in the ointment – disabled toilets here do not have bars to assist you up and down, even in the Fairmont Princess Hotel.  Although “managed” by Fairmont, the hotel is owned by a local family, who also own a fair chunk of the islands.  They use it to house their rather impressive modern art collection. This is very cool indeed, because it allows muppets like me to get up close to, and even touch, original Banksys, Hockneys, Picassos, etc. It’s a lovely way to share your blessings with others.  There are sculptures, paintings, video art, all sorts.  Probably made me even happier than strolling around the hotel’s private marina.

Although why the lobby’s giant sofas need to be in front of a roaring fire, I never did quite fathom.  You know, what with it being mid-20s all night, and all that.  As far as I can tell, all sofas and easy chairs in Bermuda (including the one in James’s flat) are about 3 to 3.5 feet deep, front to back. It seems that upright sitting is for sissies and/or eating or working only. Don’t get me wrong, my spine loves a good stretch as much as anyone’s, but your stomach muscles may get quite a workout if you try and stand up again too often. And very few have arms, which made life a little tricky for dad!

It has been very overcast since we crossed the Atlantic. Warm, but overcast. When we left Bermuda, we were going so slowly, and the sea was so dark and still, it felt like we were in the Doldrums.  Which, unless they have been diverted 20 degrees (1000 miles (very roughly)) north of normal, we weren’t. But you’d have been hard pressed to spot the difference.

It is overcast and rainy here in Nassau, capital of the Bahamas, as I am sitting typing this.  Very warm and sticky but very grey. I’m overhearing a lot of grumbles about coach trips in the rain from nearby tables. We decided not to go ashore here, and it certainly sounds like we made the right decision. There are, allegedly, EIGHT cruise ships in port today, all of them bigger than us. So that’s about 20,000 tourists milling about in the drizzle. Bearing in mind that the main street is still the length of our ship – about a sixth of a mile – that sounds rather crowded to me. UPDATE: it may only be SIX cruise ships, but the numbers may still be a very conservative estimate.

Dad and I have given up going to the Syndicate Quiz. Our lovely tablemates (Ian and Sandra and Colin and Barbara) were so frustrated at the mixture of obscure questions and the same people winning every night that they quit on us. We tried to continue on our own, but we did so dismally, we gave up too.  On the first nights, there were over 20 teams. I think last night there were 12.  And falling.  Shame, really. I rather miss their company; haven’t seen them since.

Today was Port Canaveral.  I woke when we stopped moving, and put my Sea Bands on my wrists. Just in time for the “permission to go ashore” announcement. Time check: 05:20.  We were moored on the starboard side, so we had a floodlight attached to the air bridge pointing straight in our window! How it didn’t wake dad, I have no idea. Didn’t stop me going back to sleep, mind you.

Woke about 11. Went to get “immigrated”. They found dad a wheelchair, because the walk was pretty epic.  The whole thing only took moments, no queues, and that even included having our pictures taken. Again. And they had absolutely no interest in our ESTAs. None whatsoever. Then we processed out of one door, and back in through another door further down the building, where we sat and waited to be allowed back on board. No one gets back on until everyone has come off.  Remember LA?! Waiting to (re)board, we had seats and toilets and vending machines and air con. Much more civilised.  The waiting room was vast. I lost count after 3000 chairs. This is where I bumped into Christopher Biggins. We only chatted/ selfied briefly, but he’s very nice, as is his friend, Neil.  I hope I bump into them again at some point. They boarded in Bermuda and they are here until New Orleans.

Yesterday, SpaceX launched Axiom 3 on a Falcon rocket from Cape Canaveral, but we were unable to see it from the ship. A mixture of very low cloud and our having to wait outside the Safety Exclusion Zone meant that we really had no chance. Such a shame. People were very disappointed, me included.  It was a bit odd seeing several cruise ships pretty much stationary in the water, waiting for permission to proceed.  The fine for breaching the exclusion zone, which is patrolled by the Coastguard, is $250,000 PLUS up to six years in jail, so no one was going to risk it! Never mind that no one really wants a rocket booster landing on their head. We were actually only one degree of latitude south of Canaveral, but as that is about 54 miles, and the horizon is usually about 25 miles away, visibility-wise, on a clear day, we never really stood a chance, truth be told. Hey ho. Never mind.

We rested today. Tomorrow is Miami, and we want as much energy in reserve as possible!

I think I’ll stop here. Otherwise this post may never end!

R401 – “Western Caribbean” 65 nights

Okay, now, where do I start? What’s the most terrifying email header you can imagine receiving whilst on a coach in transit to Southampton to catch a cruise ship? How about “Cancellation confirmation for R401 Aurora Cruise Booking Number  …”? Made my blood run cold! I didn’t tell dad. I assumed it was a computer glitch and didn’t want to worry him unnecessarily. Anyway, when we got to the cruise terminal, we had no issues checking in, so I thought that was the end of that.

There has to be a limit to how wrong a person can be – it cannot be infinite – but suffice to say, I have sailed pretty close to that limit now.  I was Very Very wrong.

When  we got to our cabin, our cruise cards did not open the door. Lots of people tried, and failed. So we sat in Reception for half an hour, while they looked for an engineer to reprogramme/ change/ fix the lock.  In the end, someone twigged that it might be the card, not the lock, that was the problem, created two “emergency” keys, and huzzah, we were in. The suitcase we had left on board in November got in there before we did!

So we went for something to eat and tried to order drinks. Nope. The cruise card wouldn’t make payments either. So now, this multi-functional card performs neither of its functions. I tried a purchase in the shop, in case it was a problem with the bar machine, but we had already pretty much guessed the answer. No purchases allowed. File not found.

It was at this point that I realised that the wifi wasn’t letting me in either. So back we went to Reception. Much scratching of heads and inter-staff huddling later, the young lady informed us that she had “unlocked” the account and now everything would work. Jolly good. Ha ha.

No prizes for guessing that this is not the end of the saga. That was the day we boarded, Wednesday. It took until 10pm on Friday night, before all three things worked at once – key, wallet and wifi. Even then, it took a lovely young man called Mayur AN HOUR AND A HALF to sort. This included him running to our cabin with the new keys, to check they opened the door, and running back and forth to the shop (one deck up) to make test purchases, and creating a FOURTH wifi account, before we could begin to relax and start our holiday.

I am glossing over a large amount of stress, hassle and frustration.  We couldn’t drink anything but water for three days! Now, we’re pretty much tee-total these days, but we do like the freshly-squeezed orange juice that comes out of the orange-squishing machine, and we felt a little hard done by! Sometimes we had drinks and wifi, but emergency keys; sometimes we had working keys, but no drinks or wifi. And round and round and round it went. I lost count of the number of Reception staff who assured me that they had now solved it. Sometimes we went 12 hours without having to visit Reception. Once, I think. In three days.

The Hotel Manager, Richard Chilcott, (person who runs the passenger experience, second only to the Captain, who runs the mechanical and navigational stuff) has assured me that my wifi charges (which I prepaid a week before we sailed!) will be refunded for the first four days of unable to use-ness. That and a bottle of alcohol-free wine is the sum total of the compensation we get for a miserable first few days. Dad pointed out to him that if it had been a 7-day cruise, half would have been gone before they got their act together! Good thing we’ve got 62 days left!

Apparently, they had made two bookings for our names and cabin numbers.  The credit card details and spa bookings were attached to one, and we were given cruise cards for the other.  This was finally deduced when someone deleted the wrong one, and I had to go back to Reception to re-register my credit card, and remake my spa bookings. *le sigh*

All in all, we’re shattered. Packing and boarding is a very stressful 48 hours at the best of times, but we have both hit Personal Bests for sleeping. We can’t handle stress anymore; we’re too old. But I think it is safe to assume that my masseuse is going to have her work cut out for her this afternoon!

This same chaos resulted in their losing our table booking, so for the first three nights, we were shunted about from table to table, meeting people we will likely never see again, and sometimes being sat all alone at a table for 8, like Billy No Mates. I think we are now back where we should be, and although we are unlikely to bump into Jules and Mike (she’s a magician and did tricks at the table for us), or Anna and Jeff ever again, they were very lovely. We are now seated with Jane and Brian, who are likewise lovely! They are widowers who met at work – both Young Adults with physical disability Support Workers – lost their respective spouses and then got together. They’re very sweet.  They don’t live together, but they holiday together. Not bad info-gleaning on my part from only one meal together!

Our new head waiter, Caitan, got my order and dietary needs straight out of the gate, so that’s been a great relief. I couldn’t have handled glutening as well! And one of our waiters is the same as in October, so my water glass is regularly refilled.

Quiz-wise, we have a lovely team, made up of Barbara and Colin and Ian and Sandra. They met on a previous cruise and have stayed friends.  They are beyond lovely, all smart and all funny. The first night, we scored 7/20, and it is now a running gag to see how badly we can do. Second night we got nine. Last night we got 11! At this rate, by the time we actually get to the Caribbean ‘proper’, we might be a halfway decent team!  Of course, we don’t want to actually win. There isn’t enough brass on board that needs polishing to make any use of what passes for P&O wine.

Today, Sunday, we are in Funchal, Madeira. It is grey and overcast, 20 degrees in the shade, and raining.  Madeira is Portugal, so you need Euros here. They also have gluten free McDonalds. I was tempted, but I’m too tired for the hassle of disembarking and shuttle-bussing into town.

The weather has been quite kind so far. It was quite bumpy in the Channel – thank you Hurricane Henk – but nothing over a Force 6, so I don’t think anyone has been ill or injured.  Aurora is a wonderfully stable ship. We did have quite high waves, at least one hit our window (the curtains were closed, but a thump like that is pretty distinctive), and the hangers have had plenty to chime about, but nothing major. 

And the food is good. And the beds are comfy. And the drinks are vastly overpriced, but at least we can now pay for them! So, all in all, it is now STARTING to feel like a holiday.

So, the day we arrived in Madeira was the day we met up with the warm weather. 24 in the shade and sunny. People promptly hurried ashore in search of cheap internet (it is now £11 a day, minimum, on board, £18 if you want video calling whassnames). Tip for future cruisers: follow the crew. They ALWAYS know where the best wifi is in any port. Currently, allegedly, the best signal in Funchal is at McDonalds.

We decided not to go ashore. We’ve been to Madeira plenty, and we wanted to start relaxing in earnest.  MUCH sleeping ensued. In the blissful cool of our cabin.  We did stick our heads out long enough to hear the first passenger complain about the heat, mind you. Literally hours after we arrived in the warmth. There really is no pleasing some people!

For fans of heat and humidity, I currently recommend the Lido Deck by the Crystal Pool. In order to avoid what the Bridge calls “passing showers”, the roof has stayed closed from Southampton, so it’s distinctly warm and wet there, although the pool is not (currently) trying to escape. Interestingly, we now have a lifeguard on duty during the day! His badge says Pool Supervisor, but he agrees he is the lifeguard! I don’t think we’ve ever had a lifeguard before, and we’ve been cruising for nearly 25 years now. Maybe he’s there for the safety of the babies that the signs warn us are not allowed in the water in nappies. Aurora has been an adults-only ship for at least a decade. Mind you, these are the same signs that say ‘Enter at your own risk – no lifeguard on duty’, so there’s that.

Interestingly, it seems that the warmest place in our cabin currently is in the fridge! I have now informed Reception and they assured me that a Ventilation Engineer will come and take a look. When I queried the choice of engineer, the lovely Kobe (remember him from last year?!) explained that keeping the air cool for the humans and keeping the snacks and booze cool in the fridge is, essentially, the same skill. I’ll take his word for it, for now and see how it goes! Right now, the chocolate is terribly visible, because it’s out in the cool, rather than hidden in it! Obviously, there is no actual booze. Well, apart from the free champagne we get for being loyal customers. Half bottle, don’t get too excited.

There is zero Haribo Happy Cola on board. The shop manager PROMISED me there would be some, but apparently it wasn’t delivered. So I am FORCED, forced, I tell you, to resort to Tangfastics. Tut. Dad is now also addicted.

The junior waiter’s name is Amar, with the stress on the first syllable.  Nihal is an origami expert, which is going to be fun.  Jelly with bovine gelatine is fine.  Cleo turned up today with a list of the Hermolis frozen meals they currently have in stock, and asked me which ones I might like. I chose a few and she will go and check which are gf. I’m guessing the answer will be zero, but I appreciate her optimism.

The muzak atrocities continue, sadly.  Today, despite my best efforts to tune it out, I was subjected to Danny Boy picked out on a bass guitar, Goldfinger on what sounded like an oboe, and Get into the Groove on a flute.  But, on the plus side, I had a freshly-squeezed orange juice in my hand at the time, so, you know, swings and roundabouts.

New activity spotted in the daily programme – archery. Frankly, the mind boggles, but it might be fun to go and have a go. I don’t think I’ve loosed an arrow since 1986, on the school PGL holiday in Wales!

New entry: Today is, based on the sheer number of emails awaiting me, Monday 30th Oct 2023. 28 emails. Of which, the actual Need to Reads totalled four.

Saturday night at the quiz was an interesting one.  The quizmistress got a quiz off an American website, so all the answers were unfamiliar and the Always Wins DIDN’T! Everyone gave a loud cheer when the table next to us got the vino. We noticed that on the Always Wins table, they were all frantically copying down the new questions and answers!  Sadly, last night, it was all back to normal.  Table 50 won with a ludicrous majority, and I had to complain about another wrong answer being given as correct. Pan was not the god of hunting, he was god of protecting the animals, and shepherds.  Artemis and Orion were the Greek gods of hunting. On the plus side, she pronounced the star of African Queen as Humphrey Bog Art, which raised a giggle.

Went to the theatre a couple of nights ago, to see a duo called The Tap Step Brothers. By ‘eck, they’re good.  Who knew two blokes tap-dancing could be so entertaining?! They ended with Lord of the Dance. They’ll be back on a future night, and I will definitely try to go and see them again.  During the day, they have been offering beginner’s tap lessons. Good luck to them, bearing in mind the average age on this ship!

Sorry if this all seems a bit discombobulated, but the clocks have gone back three times in three nights, and we are not really currently sure which way is up.  On the plus side, we are both now able to be up by noon, which suggests that our body clocks were simply set to Falklands Time, all along! South Georgia, to be precise. Don’t ask me, that’s what my phone says.

Today was Trek the Deck – walk a mile for Teenage Cancer Trust. Although I was awake before noon, I wasn’t up early enough to do my nine circuits of the ship. Aw, shucks. Lots of people sporting their TTD tshirts all day. It’s been humid and overcast all day, mind you, so it can’t have been an easy job. But, as we tootle towards the sunset, and suppertime, the sky is now blue with fluffy white clouds and the sea is barely moving around us. Even the breeze is now hot. We are getting close to our first Caribbean destination. It must be true, because today was the first time the explanatory paragraph appeared in the daily schedule, explaining that, no matter how hard you complain, the cold water won’t be cold, because the water around the hull is now too warm. So from now on, we will be brushing our teeth with warm water, and showering in warm water, even with the dial set to freezing. It’s odd quirks like this that make cruising different to any other type of holiday.

Talking of quirky, our bathroom tap has been put too far away from the sink, so if you don’t turn it on to full blast, it misses the mark and floods the entire vanity unit! Whoever installed it clearly had no idea how taps work! Sadly, the lovely circular bars of soap are now gone, replaced by a squirty thing that they can refill after you leave. Not all progress is forwards, my friends.

Monday night quiz: Another wrong answer. What was the 15th James Bond film? Well, according to IMDb, it was Living Daylights. We have a Bond expert on our table. He said Living Daylights. The host disagreed. Now, with the best will in the world, I’ll take IMDb’s word over yours, dear. It’s only a quiz, but it does annoy me when wrong answers are rewarded. Grrr.

As you may have gathered, sea days are fairly uneventful! You’d think this would make for excellent “plenty of time to type” time, but oddly not! And once we get to the ports, this will get worse, not better.  We have five ports in five days. Antigua, Guadeloupe, Jamaica, St Lucia, Barbados. Faithful readers will be well aware of how I feel about consecutive port days. Do not expect much prose for the next week or so!

R320 – P&O Aurora – Cruise to the Caribbean

Greetings, dear reader, welcome back onboard.

Part 1 – Sea Days from Southampton to Madeira

Okay, so even the best ideas have flaws. Holding Dad’s birthday party only seven days before the cruise I purchased as his present was due to sail, wasn’t a great idea. Long-term readers will be well aware how exhausting Embarkation Day always is. Well, add to that the fact that six days is not enough time to recover AND pack when you’re ninety, and you might come close to comprehending the level of tired we have both achieved. Today is Thursday 26th October. We boarded on Sunday 22nd. We’ve been asleep all day. Not only was dad not up in time for lunch, he didn’t bother with dinner, either! I managed the latter, just, and had his delivered to the room. Today was a PJ day, for sure. We’ve been up and about before now, but today it hit us like a tonne of bricks. I’m yawning even as I type. Why it’s hit us four days in, I have no idea, but I’m sure someone somewhere can explain it. I just know I need a new word, because pooped doesn’t even come close for this level of shattered.

Anyway, here we are, back on Aurora. The canteen roof doesn’t seem to leak any more, but I’ve seen much more duct tape than one might usually expect.  Some of the lift buttons have lost their inner light – they still take you to the Lido Deck, but they aren’t happy about it.  At least one of the aft lifts isn’t taking anyone anywhere right now. And it’s sister in the forward set is having a tantrum about feeling overloaded, even when empty. The blown double—glazing panes are still blown. The Conservatory (self-service canteen) muzak is still awful, if not now fully horrific.  Music of the Night on a slide guitar. Don’t stop believing? On the harp, obviously. Tears in Heaven? The accordion, I kid you not. I swear by All 4 One, on the harmonica. It’s as if a group of musicians got stoned and dared each other to come up with the most inappropriate instrument for each song, and they kept doubling down until they passed out. It’s miserable to have to listen to, I can assure you.  I am hoping that things will improve soon, otherwise, I may have to say something.

As deduced last year, this is definitely now the training ship, being the smallest left in the fleet. I have heard a lot more “no” than is usually acceptable.  Most of the waiting staff are quite clueless, as are the chefs, which when you have (through no fault of your own) dietary restrictions, makes life very risky indeed, particularly in the first few days! Sometimes, it has been simpler to go hungry and go somewhere else later!  Yesterday, I finally found an obliging waiter in the Conservatory (which is apparently actually called Horizon). His name is Srivasan. He takes very good care of me, and he’s nice to chat to, too. He’s very interested in my keeping a blog.

On the other hand, the cleaners are prevalent and industrious – which is nice given the amount of coughing and sneezing I’ve heard – and our cabin steward (Bibi) is excellent. Talking of which, we have a balcony! We’ve never had one before. But we like it! Dad was out there like a shot when we checked in. Leaving me to do the unpacking, coincidentally, while he cast a supervisory eye over the loading of the final stores and the removal of the gangplank on the quayside below. 

The comedian booked for the first few nights managed to MISS THE SHIP. Genius. The UB40 tribute group, called Rats in the Kitchen, were excellent, and considering what they had been through, they were extraordinary. The saxophonist’s mother died last Friday, so he backed out. The lead guitar fell ill on the Saturday. So, of the six men on stage, two had been rehearsing UB40 songs for about 48 hours, total, tops. And never with the full band, because the “Ali Campbell” spent the first 48 hours of the cruise talking to God on the Great White telephone. Not a good sailor, apparently.

Which surprised us, because we’ve had pretty smooth sailing considering the first events are the Western Approaches (where the Atlantic Ocean, Irish Sea and Channel meet – not renowned for its calm) and the Bay of Biscay (that people disembark at Barcelona and fly home to avoid). We’ve never gone over a force 4 at all  – some white horses, not many, for those of a Beaufort Scale inclination.

Our head waiter is named Cleopatra, not a name that will be easy to forget! She is delightful and very assiduous about our dining needs. Sometimes too assiduous! We’ve had an issue with the jelly. I eat a LOT of jelly onboard. Not at home, oddly, but loads on cruises. She was worried that gelatine would not suit a Jewish passenger. Very thoughtful. Unfortunately, this resulted in them creating some concoction using agar agar instead, just for me.  It looked the part, but it tasted of absolutely nothing. Jellied water. Even though it was green, it had no taste, flavour or aroma whatsoever. So we are going to abandon the agar agar, and I’ll just hope for beef gelatine!

Our main waiter is Nihal, which seems odd for someone with such Asian features, but not my place to query. He moves too fast. If he slowed down and listened more carefully, he’d be superb. His assistant’s name I haven’t managed to gather yet – he’s too fast-moving and quiet. It’s like having your water glass refilled by a ninja – you never know he’s there until he’s gone! Yesterday, a gluten-free roll materialised on my side plate. I swear he had been nowhere near our table. Seriously. It’s very cool!

Which brings us to our table mates. Paul and Chris(tine) are very nice and very northern, although I think they now live in Somerset. Bev and Keith are likewise from oop north, but also very nice, although Bev speaks very quietly.  Bryan and Jan are also lovely and northern.  Again, Jan is the quieter one.  Bryan is ex-military. He wore three medals on our first formal night. I haven’t figured out anyone else’s occupation as yet. I can’t shake the idea that Keith used to be on the telly. If not, he is the spitting image of someone who was. Only time will tell, I suppose.

Our friends from last year, Barry and Margaret, are here, but we don’t dine with them. We just bump into them at lunchtime and meet up with them for the quiz at 10.30.  Our new couple, to complete our quiz team of six since Geoff and Linda had to cancel (inconsiderate granddaughter arranged her wedding slap bang in the middle), are James and Eileen. They are useful additions, and we are getting 13s and 14s most nights.  There’s an “always wins team”, as usual. It’s not the bunch from last year. They are here, but there are now eight of them, so they can’t win (max. is 6), so they play for the fun of it and are much less obnoxious as a result.  The new “always wins” table contains a couple from last year and a woman who won £33k on The Chase, so anyone else who plays better be only in it for the fun of it as well.

I seem to have been running around non-stop. I’m not sure I’ve even had time to look out of the window today! Today was the first time it was really warm enough to sit out, for most of the wusses on board. I have sat out for days, because I am not a wuss, but today I haven’t had the time. Which is pants, frankly, because that’s the whole point of sea days, IMOSHO.

Tomorrow is Madeira.  I might go ashore, if only to purchase all the items that I have realised (so far) I failed to pack. These include (but are not limited to): face cleanser, plug converter for dad’s razor, and mouthwash.  I’m sure there will be other things, but this list shouldn’t really be this long, considering how long I’ve been doing this.  Frankly, I appalled at myself.

A word about inflation. The prices are now, as you might imagine, excruciating. A 330ml can of 7up Zero costs, brace yourself, £3.55. Yes, soft drinks cost £3.55. Each. Hilariously, they’ve got a little muddled, and ended up with drinks from the gun costing more than cans. On the plus side, they now have Diet Coke in glass bottles (same price). Confusingly for the eco-minded, the mineral water comes in cans (£1 a can or six for a fiver), instead of plastic bottles (yay!), but the straws are still black plastic (boo!). And heaven only knows where the orange squeezer machine went, because I get nothing but blank stares when I ask for a freshly-squeezed orange juice.

Still, it’s all early days. Right now, I’m just happy to be here.

So, back pretty much better, as long as I don’t do anything daft. Teeth definitely whiter since I switched from Diet Coke to Diet 7up. New pillows last night. Slept like a log. Appetite pretty much gone completely. Must be going home time.

Update on the missing stuff list:

Lemons in the pub (although still some in the kitchens for the fish and chips)

The coaster drought is spreading.

Washing powder in the shop.

The ice sculptor and sculptures

All parties, sailaway parties/ drinks and deck barbecues

Food theme nights

Dress theme nights

Fresh avocados

Green vegetables! Plenty of root veg though.

Photographers

Receipts.

Port day discounts in the spa

Art auctions. There is still art on sale, and a lovely young lady called Sonia to sell it to you, but I don’t think Whitewall Galleries did very well this month. But the free champers is long gone.

Ditto chocoholics. Ditto the galley walk.

The orange squeezer machine no longer contains orange oranges. We now have small yellow-green things that look like rather spherical lemons. These are apparently “Caribbean oranges” and they have a vastly different pip to pulp ratio to their predecessors. The juice is more yellow too, but the taste is still yummy.

Decent guest entertainers. One Grumbleweed and a bloke from ELO who clearly was not one of the singers, does not cut it.

Water in the Crystal Pool. After emptying over half its contents onto the deck the other day, someone took the hint and emptied out the rest. Both Jacuzzis are still available and I think the Riviera and Terrace pools are still usable.

And, of course, no muster drills for the passengers. Now you are just supposed to watch the video on the telly in your cabin, and then get your cruise card swiped at your muster station, to prove you know where it is. It was a boring hassle, but I rather miss it. It was the moment the holiday really started.

Today was Praia da Vitoria in the Azores. We didn’t get off. We’ve been here before. There is precious little here. The inhabitants are not in the least bit interested in cruise ship visitors. They know as well as we do that we only stop here to prevent our landlubbers from getting cabin fever/ going mad from lack of land to walk on/ greenery to look at. This is Portugal and very few people speak English. In fact, I think last time we came here, the cabbie and I communicated in French! So we stayed on board. Today was the first time I’ve had to wear my wristbands on this entire cruise. We were VERY stationary indeed.

Yesterday, I packed. So today I have been counting the broken fingernails. I may have got away with just two, but there a third I’m keeping a rather dubious eye on…

Although we have a week to go (six sea days and Praia di Vitoria), it certainly feels as though the trip is nearly over. People are muttering about cold and wind, some decks are closed, and the daily paper is full of disembarkation notices. Do this, don’t do that. We aren’t going to moor here, we’re going somewhere else. Do you want to pay extra to have your cases delivered back to your house? Here’s your hat, where’s your hurry?

In addition, we are starting to run out of things. We are reliably informed that there is only enough John Smith’s Yorkshire Bitter (the only ale on board) to last the pub for another three days, tops. The coasters for drinks have run out in some venues. There are no fresh avocados left on board. These have been replaced with soggy things which are alleged to be/have been frozen avocados. I have seen some incredible things done to avocados over the years – not all of them wise. In particular, I do not recommend freezing them. Utterly foul. Yes, this is me turning down an avocado. Things must be bad. Fresh pineapple also seems to have been taken off the menu. And whoever sold the chef the cuts of meat currently being offered needs to be offered Salesperson of the Millennium. The steaks and lamb cuts are so gristly as to be inedible. Even dad has turned away food these past few days. My dad, who normally eats ANYTHING.

The weather has also taken the hint, and deteriorated somewhat, right on cue. Last night was so bumpy, the Crystal Pool emptied itself. And that was even with the nets on! In case you were wondering why a net is tied across the pool in rough weather, allow me to explain. The net is stretched across the pool (or Jacuzzi) just above the water level, so that, when the ship’s movement causes a wave to build up, it is immediately broken up by the net. If this was not done, then the time lag between ship movement and pool sloshes could cause rather large waves to accrue, which could knock the ship out of balance, and maybe even tip her over. She would certainly be much more difficult to handle for those on the Bridge in the white uniforms, who stay well away from the passengers these days.

None of this is me complaining. Just observing. I’m still happy as a pink piggy piglet in a very muddy field. Lying here, listening to the coat hangers clinking against the wardrobe doors – quite possibly my favourite sound in the world, as you know – I am so grateful and blessed to have this life, these opportunities, and [just enough] health to go to these places and do these things. Even more so that I still have my dad to do all this with. Particularly big shout out to Dad’s GP, who said, if you’re not feeling very cheery, go on a cruise. Sir, yes, sir. So we can legitimately claim that we are here on doctor’s orders!

That being said, we are both feeling a bit old and creaky at the moment. Dad’s knees and back are taking turns to give him gip, my back is still a bit twingey, and I have not only turned a year older on board, but yesterday, my eldest goddaughter turned 18. EIGHTEEN, for the love of Heaven! I am now officially that annoying auntie, who turns up and embarrasses you by saying “I remember you when you were THAT high”. Only I remember the first time I held her. I was so terrified I’d drop her, I just froze! She is, sadly, one of the Covid generation, whose studies were so disrupted in 2020. But she’s smart. I have faith she’ll come through just fine. Next will be eldest godson, in March. Oy vey.

Notes on muzak. In the past, there has been a fair amount of bitching on here about muzak – song choices, genres, volume, etc.  Sadly, it wasn’t until after Mum died that P&O finally grasped the idea that music can be turned DOWN. The volume around the ship is universally lower, and much more sensible. If you want eighties music, you go to the Pennant Bar (back of 12). If you want insipid Olivia Newton-John-breathy-style murders of rock ballads (Take My Breath Away with a flute?! – sorry, Fiona, but really?!), you go to Reception. The Horizon cafeteria varies. Today, it has been mostly full orchestral stuff – Chariots of Fire and the like – although I’m not sure I’m entirely comfortable with Abide With Me when on a small ship in the middle of the Atlantic… I have had some odd musical experiences on cruises in the past – remember Bat out of Hell on the banjo? But I’m pretty sure that Paint it Black on a SITAR is going to go straight to number one in this particular chart rundown.  Although, to be fair, generally speaking, sitar dance music is rather good (late nights in the Horizon).

As regards the gluten free, we are still very much in the Land of the Puds. Mousses, gateaux, all very lovely. But heaven help you if you want a sandwich. There is gluten free bread aplenty, likewise the spaghetti (I have yet to learn if other shapes are available!). And plenty of dairy alternatives – oat, soya, Benecol margarine, and so on. One lady rather put a spanner in the works earlier today, by removing an ENTIRE one litre carton of Lactofree milk from the counter, but at least she had the decency to tell the head waiter she was taking it to her cabin, so that he could send a minion down to the stores for a replacement! There is now even an entire separate serving area for vegetarian and vegan food, although the gluten free segregation needs some further work. In fact, a couple of days ago, I had to point out to my dinner waiter that there was NO gluten free option for the main course at dinner! We cobbled something together, but I think a rather stroppy message probably made its way to the Galley!

One of the head waiters, Brigesh, has been with P&O for 23 years. He fusses over me like a mother hen. Want a smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich on gluten free bread made from scratch to order at gone midnight? One bun or two? He really is very solicitous. He says he is very aware of how few gf options there are. He also agreed that this is a training ship. He said that 78% of his workforce are new and need training up. He usually allows a month to get them trained. They joined a week before we boarded. So that explains a great deal. It may also go some way to explaining the repeated blank stares we get when we make enquiries at Reception!

Antigua – 23rd November

Got the best birthday present ever. NO ONE WOKE ME. No deadlines for meals, no rushing to excursions, no announcements through the cabins, no ship noises, no banging of hammers, drills or gangplanks. Utter bliss. Woke completely naturally when I was good and ready. Met Dad for lunch and got my cards and pressies. A lovely, relaxing day off. We’ve been to Antigua before, anyway, so we were always planning for this to be a day off.  We now refer to days off after busy days as Crash Days, as we both need recovery time these days!

St Kitts – 24th November

VERY hot and humid. And a blisteringly long walk from the gangplank to the buses. There was a little buggy service, but, as we were parked next to the Largest Cruise Ship In The World™, and their 5000 passengers were using it, there was no room for us. When we got to the bus area, we managed to persuade a member of staff to give Dad priority and our bus driver, Warner, got us on board first, with the air con on, whilst everyone else sorted themselves out. Part of the chaos was, apparently, because those off the Wonder of the Seas had set off late, so the train we were due to board had departed late and wasn’t back yet.  So there were huge queues on the quayside. From both ships. All heading in small 12-seater minibuses to the same train station.

Once we had escaped the scrum, however, the trip was delightful. Warner gave us a little tour of the island while we waited for the train, and told us interesting facts about the history of the island. Then we went to the little train, which is next to an airport so small, I didn’t even see it. Although it was a diesel, it was a hydraulic diesel (whatever that means) – the upshot being that Dad did not seem to suffer a reaction to the diesel fumes, which was nice. The train had two levels – an open air top deck and an air-conditioned lower deck, with wicker armchairs, tables, drinks and proper toilets. Unsurprisingly, we chose the latter.

The train tootled us around the coast of the island at 18 miles per hour for two hours. Very clanky, with wooden carriages that swayed quite alarmingly. The alarm was mostly reserved for the terrifyingly narrow bridges, to be fair, but there were also a few cliff edges that loomed rather close for my personal comfort.

There were some local dancers who performed for us, in fabulous outfits, and all the free soft and alcoholic drinks you wanted. All in all, a very pleasant introduction to somewhere we had never been before. I now know WAY more about the St Kitts sugar cane industry than any one person should ever really need to know. Tl;dr: there isn’t one. The government nationalised it when sugar beet destroyed the market for cane sugar, and then shut it down completely, in favour of tourism.

Glorious weather, beautiful countryside, lots of goats and an absolute deluge of small, white butterflies. Absolutely charming.

Tl;dr: St Kitts is beautiful and friendly and perfectly at ease with its slavery past.

Guadeloupe – 25th November

We were SOOOOOOO excited to be here! We are both (as was Mum) MASSIVE fans of Death in Paradise, and knowing it was filmed here made it vital that we get here if we could. In fact, this was the primary reason we chose this particular cruise!

I had booked a tour before we left England. The official P&O tour did not give much information as to what their DiP tour would include, so I found a lady willing to tailor-make a tour to suit us. FWIW, the P&O excursion was initially to run twice – once in the morning and once in the afternoon. It was so popular, they ran it SIX times, with multiple busses each time. Our guide’s name was Taïna, and her company is Guadaloupe Explor. She was wonderful. In the early days of the cruise, we made some friends, called Margaret and Barry and Linda and Geoff – all travelling together – and we have been quizzing with them each evening. As Taïna was offering us an eight-seater bus, we invited them to join us (which happily also made it much cheaper for us!). She drove us from Pointe à Pitre to Deshaies, showing us various sites along the way. Pointe à Pitre is a city at the joining point of the two islands, and is just an ugly city, like many others. But 10 minutes out and you’re in beautiful, lush, green Caribbean countryside. Guadeloupe has an endless supply of beaches – not nearly so many rocks and cliffs as elsewhere (see Grenada). You can choose white, golden or black sand!

We visited the location of The Shak from the tv series, but it had already been dismantled for the year – if it was left in place, it would be destroyed during storm season. But we stood next to the tree that the bedroom is built around! Then we went into Deshaies itself, and had a drink at Catherine’s Bar (and used the loos!). Then we went around the corner and up the hill to the Police Station. Then we drove round to the harbour and to the jetty that the ferry leaves from in the show. Absolute bliss.

Tl;dr: today alone was both the reason for the cruise and the pinnacle of it.

St Lucia

Day off. Too hot. Slept.

Grenada

This was the third place we had not visited before, so, despite the fact that it poured with rain all morning, we decided to make the effort and get off and look around after lunch. In honour of this, the sky decided to stop watering us, which was nice. I had emailed a place from England about gluten free afternoon tea, but never heard back. We haggled with a taxi driver – the weirdest haggling I’ve ever encountered. 40 dollars for a tour. No, we just want to go there and come back. Fifty dollars. Eh? Sixty dollars. Dude, I said 40 was too high! This is not how haggling works. Let’s just agree on 40 then. Anything for a quiet life. So we were taken up some hair-raising cliff bends and slopes to The Tower Estate. This is a former plantation house – very visibly Edwardian! – that is now a guest house. Although they were closed (which is why they hadn’t answered my email!), our driver, Philip, knew the owner, Isabel, and she made some blue tea for us, anyway. The tea is made with the Blue Butterfly Peaflower, and tastes very perfumey. Apparently, it is good for diabetes and anxiety – the latter of which was very useful for the return drive down those slopes and cliff edges! Grenada is the highest and steepest of all the Caribbean islands. Some of the hills were pretty vertiginous. I’ll add some pics, but I don’t think they do it justice!

Tl;dr: Very steep roads and high houses, so the blue tea reduced the anxiety they induced.

Barbados

Woke up, opened the curtains to see a military frigate with an 8-inch gun. Not pointed directly at us, thank goodness. Welcome to Barbados. We chose not to get off here. We’ve been here many times – we’ve visited a good proportion of the island, including many of the beaches and shopping things. It’s a very pleasant island, but we aren’t really sand, alcohol and watersports-type people, so it’s not really our thing. I’ve had a painful back for a while now, and they have recently given me a better mattress, so a day of lying on it to let my spinal muscles unkink didn’t seem like a bad idea.

Tuesday 29th November

Sea Day 1 of lots.

Quite a restful day today. Although it is very difficult to get up and dressed after you have opened the curtains. The view of the ocean – perfect Royal Blue, as far as the eye can see (roughly 20-25 miles in every direction)– is very distracting and hypnotic. There were some white horses today, for a change, and they only add to the prettiness of it all.  Not another vessel in sight. Nothing and no one. Just us and the wide blue ocean.

My back is much better, although still a little twingy now and then. I’ve heard others moaning about back pain, and there have been several injuries, including a woman who got hit on the head by a jetski, a couple of broken noses and black eyes, several trips and falls resulting in ankle strains and sprains and Linda has a broken toe, missing the bottom step on the stairs. Geoff is having to wheel her around in a wheelchair. I have also heard of at least one broken arm. This all seems quite a high total for a journey that hasn’t been in the least bit rough so far!

But the most common complaint at the moment is the Bitten to Buggery Brigade. This includes me. Turns out, in Grenada, I forgot to put my insect repellent on, and something(s) had a field day with my nice white legs. Whatever they were, they were quite sociable; all the bites are in groups of two or three, so they were dining with friends! Ladies who lunch.

Things that have disappeared (cont’d):

Officers no longer come to the loyalty lunch. Which rather defeats the purpose of going, frankly. Who wants to get togged up in the middle of the day, when it’s 80 in the shade, to go and eat food identical to what we get in the evenings in the restaurant, with a free glass of wine? The wine ain’t that good!

Hooks on the back of the cabin door for coats.

Sorbet course on formal night dinners.

Most surprising is that this past Sunday there was no church service on board! Granted, we were in port, in a place with A LOT of churches, but nothing on board seems odd. Maybe they were so offended at the collection total from the previous week that they decided not to bother!