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!

Please pay attention to the following messages. We have seven ports in seven days coming now. I will try to keep on top of the posts, but if I fail, please forgive me. Back to back ports were a killer when I was young. I am now getting old and it doesn’t get easier, funnily enough.

Greetings from Sint Maarten, also known as Saint Martin – depending on whether you are in the Dutch bit or the French bit.

PSA: Despite the respective European overlords of both parts of the island, the currency here is the US dollar.

We stayed on the Dutch side this time. We’ve visited both sides on previous visits, but we didn’t feel up to much today. Having spent the previous two days in bed with an ear infection, I wasn’t keen on going too far, although, as it turned out, I was fine.

We remembered from last time the helpful man who runs a golf buggy service from the gangplanks to the shore – over a quarter of a mile. We reckon that the entire pier is probably the best part of a mile long these days – they keep extending it for bigger and bigger ships.  He isn’t allowed to make a charge, but is allowed to accept tips… 😉 He was there, right on time, and took us to the land with his usual cheery smile. We took a taxi from the new concrete taxi rank area. It was here last time, but we managed to disembark at precisely the same time as Everyone Else Visiting The Island That Day. That was fun. Today, despite four ships being in at the same time, it was deserted and we had our choice of vehicles. The lack of competition for taxis may have been due to the fact that we did not disembark until about half one.  I knew that early starts were a bad idea – now I have proof! What with needing to eat something by way of a breakfast, we first went up to Horizon and had a fruit brunch. Which turned out to be a very smart move because we didn’t see any food until we got back on board over two hours later.

The taxi took us to Philipsburg, the capital of the Dutch side, about 10 minutes from the cruise terminal, which has not changed since our last visit however many years ago. There are two main streets, named, for the forgetful, Front Street and Back Street. Between Front Street and the beach is The Boardwalk, which is tarmac, not wood. It’s a pleasant little strip of cafes and bars, if you can get past the women handing out flyers for jewellery stores.  I’m not sure what the deal is with buying jewellery in the USA, but everyone in the Caribbean is utterly convinced that all cruise ship passengers want to do is purchase thousands and thousands of dollars of precious stones. We have learned to say that we are British, not American, and that we are not here to refill the vaults of Hatton Garden single-handed. Everyone is very lovely, even when they’re nagging you, so it’s not as uncomfortable as it could be to keep saying no. And they now try to entice you in with offers of air con and wifi! Which, when it is 30 degrees in the shade (add 5-8 more for direct sunlight) and the humidity is so high you can barely tell when it actually starts raining, is very inviting indeed!

We wandered down the Boardwalk and sat in a café to drink two Diet Cokes which, together, came to less than the cost of one on board ship. Our dinner table mates, Maureen and Geoff, passed by and joined us for a drink. It was nice to just chill out and people watch, whilst listening to the ‘entertainer’ next door murdering reggae classics to the backing of a steel band recording. Well, the steel band bit was nice. His singing did not assist in our enjoyment much.

We went to find a taxi to take us to find some gluten free lunch. I accidentally sent us to the place we went last time! The Divi Little Bay Resort. We only realised we had been there before when we pulled up outside. We went to the same restaurant we had visited last time, with Mum and Mario and Josephine in tow, now called Gizmo’s Grill. Sadly, whereas on our previous visit, we had been able to have a meal, this time did not go as well. When I asked for gluten free options, the lady serving had no idea what I was talking about. She went and got her manager, who said that they didn’t offer it “any more”. We both expressed our dismay at this, shrugged, went back to the taxi rank and left.

We then tried a restaurant that Maureen’s friend (who used to live here) had recommended as catering for gluten free and other diets. They didn’t offer gluten free either. The blank stares I got seemed out of place for an Asian fusion restaurant (!), but if they didn’t separate things to prevent cross-contamination, I wasn’t in the mood to risk it. So that was 20 dollars in wasted cab fares, and we still hadn’t eaten!

In the end, we agreed to admit defeat and go back to the ship to eat.  We sat under some very loud speakers playing Ed Sheeran and Whitney Houston songs in the sunshine until the water taxi came to take us back to the ship. At which point, the heavens opened.

Now, this is the tropics – rainforest country and all that – so it wasn’t a surprise to get rained upon. It doesn’t matter – you’ll be dry again within a few minutes. What did surprise us was that rain so fine we mistook it for mist could leave us so soaked that we had to change our clothes before going to lunch. We were drenched. My look this evening can best be summed up as Drowned Rat. Being rained upon in this heat is actually very refreshing, although when you step into a puddle while wearing sandals, and it’s WARM, that is a very strange sensation indeed. 

After eating something light, that didn’t require the energy to chew (Russian salad for the fact fans), I went for a siesta – I was shattered. I think Dad was planning to stay awake and do stuff, but when I woke up at 6.40 pm, he was spark out on his bed, too. So we were rather late for dinner (which starts at 6.30) but we weren’t up to eating much anyway, so it didn’t take us long to catch up with Maureen and Geoff. Tomorrow is Antigua.  No rest for the wicked.

Tl;dr: The Divi Little Bay is NOT gluten free any more.  The Green House at Bobby’s Marina may be gluten free or not – they don’t know – so probably best not to risk it.

P.S. As regards the Spot the Difference game we’ve been playing on board, I can now add that there appear to be no pencil sharpeners on Aurora, so if you go to Reception, they just give you a new pencil! Also, there is now a lady with a trolley who brings teas and coffees to your lunch table, which is new. The game has been expanded to require guesses as to whether the arrival or departure of an item or service is due to environmental concerns, Covid or Other Excuse (unspecified). It’s quite an entertaining game. Feel free to play along at home.

Okay, okay, okay. Yes, I’m  sorry the cruise started last Friday and I haven’t uploaded anything until now. In my defence, it’s been a little bumpy, which is lovely because it’s like being rocked like a baby, and even some of the crew are finding it hard to stay awake, but even my typing skills are limited when I’m asleep. Also the new wifi “system” on board is ridiculously convoluted to try and understand.  I’ve had to ask Reception twice so far, and I teach this stuff to others! If I tell you that the first thing you must do is put your device in Airplane Mode, you might get a hint of how counterintuitive it now is. Oh, and it’s ten quid a day, minimum. Ouch.

Anyway, here we are.  Dad and I sharing a cabin with a window but no balcony. Apparently, the first night, I slept so quietly, he had to check I was still breathing! So there, to all those who say I snore. The trick is to keep me sober, and make me so exhausted with your nightmarish checkin arrangements that my father threatens to turn around and go home, because I look so ill. What was the problem? We usually don’t have THAT much of an issue with checking in. The coach down was uneventful enough; we didn’t even have any delays caused by teenagers sitting in the middle of the M25, so that was nice. But when we got to Southampton, the smiles ended. Apparently, post-Covid, you don’t exist if the NHS app is not compatible with your phone model. Although in the pre-cruise instructions, they said don’t bring your vaccination cards, what this apparently meant was we want to see your vaccination record, but only on the app. So after we paid twenty quid a head for a “supervised” LFT 48 hours beforehand, we still had a nightmare at Southampton. The test was fine, even though we went to the wrong building to start with.  Fancy expecting it to be in the same place it was in May. Pfft! What a dullard I am.

Labyrinthine wifi aside, Aurora has had a refit, and despite spending three months living on here just a few years ago, we recognise virtually nothing. I even turned the wrong way coming out of a lift!  All a bit confusing.  She is VERY shiny indeed. They have also renamed everything! Cafe Bordeaux is now The Glass House, with Olly Smith wine choices. The Sidewalk Cafe is now the Lido Grill.  The Cyb@study is now the library. Room service is no longer free. The Orangery is now the Horizon, and, yes, that is still the name of the daily activity guide.

Aurora is now the smallest ship left in the P&O fleet. She is also the fastest. The former fact means that she appears to have taken over Oceana’s role as the Training Ship. Most staff have been on board less than a month – some only a week! They are very willing and smiling and obliging and helpful, and they have absolutely no clue what they’re doing.  We are happy to help them learn, of course, but it does mean spelling out the most simple things sometimes. Such as the fact that people who eat gluten free sometimes want something other than cake – however delicious the cakes may be. Marie Antoinette would have been right at home. Although, frankly, I’d give my eye teeth for a gf brioche on here.  That aside, the food is, unfortunately, excellent.

Our first port, Madeira, was just as lovely as always. The shuttle bus is now chargeable, but not if you have our kind of booking, apparently. Don’t ask for clarification, I have none to offer. The sun shone, the people smiled, and the salt and vinegar crisps were three quid a bag. Thankfully, we packed our own chocolate, I dread to think what that would have cost. On the plus side, the Happy Cola Haribo in the onboard shop are surprisingly reasonably priced.

Our dinner companions are Maureen and Geoff. They’re from Newcastle and lovely. On the first night, we had a painfully thin, appearance- and fitness-obsessed couple who barely opened their mouths except to put in food. I think his name was William, but no one knows what her name was. If you want to google retired election managers for northwest Derbyshire, do let me know what the answer is! They vanished without a trace almost immediately. We’ve seen them around the ship – him with his aggressively large gym bag (Maureen chose the adjective!), and her with her pinched, sulky scowl. Maureen says they now go to second sitting, which is fair enough, but a Hello on deck wouldn’t kill you!

Then a lady called Gillian joined us. She’s very sweet. She stayed two nights at our table before she vanished. The first she was forgiven, because she was having afternoon tea at Reid’s in Madeira, and she warned us that if she was too full of cake, she would skip dinner. But the second remains a puzzle. I guess we will find out tonight (second formal night) if she’s abandoned us for good or not.

The drinks system has also changed. Whereas in the past, we could purchase a little cardboard Pepsi card for twenty drinks, nicely discounted, this is no longer possible. Instead, there are two ‘packages’ which you book at Reception. The non-alcoholic one is twenty quid A DAY per person and the alcoholic one is forty quid a day per person. But in order to stop people gaming the system, if one person in the cabin has one, everyone else in the cabin must have one. It is therefore a minimum of forty quid a day for two people. Now, even with the best will in the world, and at three quid a pop, I can’t get dad to drink THAT much liquid every day. Luckily, the water is still free. We have, however, discovered sugar-free 7Up, so we can avoid at least some of the caffeine!

We’ve been up to the Syndicate Quiz a couple of times.  The first night we joined a table, but although we did quite well, those people stopped coming. The next night, we joined a different group and I scored all seven points. They never came again, either! The past two nights, dad and I have sat alone and come second both times! Of course, we don’t want to actually win. We’ve drunk P&O own-brand wine, and were lucky to survive, so we’d rather not have to do it again. Second is perfectly respectable and fun without risking our digestive sanity.

Clocks go back again tonight, which will put us 2 hours adrift of the UK (3 for Jerome – happy birthday for yesterday, mon cher).

Tl;dr: So, to summarise, so far: bumpy roads, lots of sleeping, and some rather tiring conversations.

UPDATE: Since typing the above:

Turns out Gillian went back to the Medina restaurant. We met her tablemate, Jan, today at lunch!

We have now joined a table at the quiz (which is now held in the Horizon cafeteria, btw). The four others are friends who booked together. Margaret and Barry and Linda and Geoff (I think). Good fun and happy not to win. Which is handy.

Dad and I sharing a cabin seems to be working out. Neither has killed the other yet!

The default GF pasta at lunch is no longer penne, it’s spaghetti, which is a darned sight messier. I am still trying to get them to stop serving it on a plate roughly the same temperature as the Sun.

Our evening waiters are Cline and Jhonas. They are lovely and, along with the Head Waiter, Aritra, take very good care of us. Our section of the Alexandria appears to have mislaid its drinks waiter, but they pick up the slack just fine. Our cabin steward, Rachelle, is new but very willing.

We are, however, compiling a list of Stuff That Has Disappeared from P&O Post-Covid. So far, we have, in no particular order:

Pillow Chocolates

Towel animals on the bed

Sweetie dish in the cabin

Flower in a vase in the cabin

Evening turn down

Toothpicks from the dinner table

All photographers and photos, even on formal nights

Waiters singing Happy Birthday

Balloons

Face flannels and robes

Beach towels in the bathroom

Free White Stuff lotions and potions in the bathroom

Officers joining the table for special lunches

Any and all drinks parties and receptions

Port Talks

Port Guides

Language lessons – on the last month-long cruise we did, I learned Spanish! Nothing now.

Computing lessons, help or guidance of any kind.

The only classes now are line dancing, ballroom dancing, art, crafting and, wait for it, ukelele. I kid you not.

Formal wear in the shop, or any menswear at all.

SHELVES in the cabin. None at all. Not in the wardrobe, not anywhere. You either fold it in a drawer or hang it on a hanger. Them’s your only choices.

The dressing table drawer now has a hairdryer screwed into it, making it useless for anything else.

The oddest is that you no longer get a receipt when you buy a drink – unless you ask. This is odd purely because THEY STILL PRINT TWO RECEIPTS (one for them and one for you), they just don’t give them to you! If you remind them, they go back and pick it up off the bar where it’s just sitting there. Most odd.

For those who read my blog from Artemis going into Madeira some years back, the flat screen tvs are now screwed to the wall.

The lifeboat davits are well-greased and now have a backup launch system involving compressed air.

There is also now a MOBILITY TEST you have to attend and pass before you are allowed to use a tender to go ashore. If you don’t do it, you don’t get to go. Of course, if we were boarding exactly the same vessels in use as lifeboats, I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t refuse you entry because you were unable to cross an 18 inch gap unaided.

The refit has resulted in much more counter space in the cafeteria, with smaller tables as a result. However, in last night’s spectacular thunderstorm, we found that, during said refit, no one addressed the fact that there is a hole in the roof of the cafeteria. The water poured in, but the waiters were ready with buckets and towels. Shouldn’t really be necessary so soon after a full dry dock refurb!

Tl;dr: Summary: lots has changed; lots remains just the same.

Summary of the intervening 3.5 years:

Covid lockdown announced on Mum’s birthday 20 March 2020.

Mum and Dad’s 50th anniversary party on 5 April 2020 cancelled

Mum broke her hip in June 2020 and died the following month.

I pretty much moved back in with Dad to take care of him/ keep him company.

I quit my job and started referring to myself as semi-retired.

Dad persuaded the council that he still needs Josephine

His doctor told him to go on a cruise, so we did.

So here we are.