We are in the doldrums. Both physically and metaphorically. The sea near the Equator is dead calm. It once again resembles not so much water as slightly baggy/ badly-laid carpet – with barely a wrinkle to suggest movement. There is no wind. At. All. I knew where we were without looking out or even at the telly this morning. It’s too calm. I can’t sleep, and I am, once again, plunged into a phenomenal depression. Going out onto deck doesn’t help. The humidity is ludicrous, and the heat is quite oppressive (30 in the shade), even in the restaurant, where the air con is doing its best.  So fruit, Sudoku, back to bed. Bleurgh. Why the change in air pressure makes me so down, I have no idea. I wonder if anyone has ever studied the effects of air pressure on mood. Maybe part of Seasonal Affective Disorder is to do with the repeated Lows we get passing over us in winter? This merits proper investigation, methinks. When I win the Lottery, I will fund the research myself, if no one else has done it by then.

Now that we are in the Coral Sea, and have almost escaped the reefs (the pilot will be free to give a talk after 3pm), I feel I can now say, Dear Australia, single ply toilet paper is not a thing. Stop it. Even the ship manages two-ply and we have The Most Temperamental Plumbing System On Earth. Single ply just means people will use twice as much and fold it over. You’re saving nothing, but you’re annoying everyone. Stop it at once.

Spoke to Pauline, who snorkelled the GBR yesterday. She said it was very badly damaged – mostly, it would seem, by the boat they were in, which kept hitting the coral! Surely a tourist guide should know how to avoid damaging the reef that provides his livelihood?! Very worrying.

Enough typing for now. I need a nap and some chocolate, and not necessarily in that order.

0246AM Woken by a call through the cabins on the emergency “headboard” channel for a first stage assessment party to smoke in the lift mechanisms on deck 11. Fair enough, although how waking 1800 passengers helps with this, I have no idea, because we are none of us are assessment party members. Very odd. Are we to believe that they do not have a channel that broadcasts only below decks or in the public spaces? That every emergency means waking us all, no matter how temporary? And it was REALLY loud. I was woken, despite being sound asleep and having my ear plugs in. So it does its job (which is good to know for if it should ever really matter). It’s just that its not an emergency that is, at least for now, in any way relevant to me. Maybe they think they should wake us all just in case they have to muster us later? It’s all very peculiar. I’ve heard assessment party calls before, but never in the cabins. Someone is either really worried, or about to get demoted in a few hours’ time for waking up 1800 people unnecessarily.

0251AM The team have been stood down. Again, by blasting through the cabins.

0252 AM. There has been a “small”* fire in the lift machinery by the East bar on deck 11. The Captain has just apologised, personally, for waking us, but wanted to reassure us that the fire is now out. Gosh, that was all very exciting. Right, now, where was i? Oh yes, asleep.

*Remember, as the fireman attending next door once said to my dad, there is no such thing as a small fire.

Sometimes this starts to feel almost normal. You get up, you do stuff, you go to bed, you have perfectly ordinary dreams – well, as ordinary as dreams get. Last night’s had a full orchestra, and the entire cast of All Creatures Great and Small, but still… And then you get a tender port. And you are reminded that this is not a normal life. You do not get to live it as you want. You do not get to decide when you wake. You do not have much control at all over your day. The announcements start at 7.30, if you are lucky. There are immigration announcements, import restrictions and quarantine announcements, tender boat ticket numbers being called, weather reports (28 degrees by 8am), crew drills. Sleep is moot. You can try, but you won’t get far. Even with ear plugs. If this sounds like a grumpy paragraph, bear in mind its content. I’ve been awake for an hour and a half and it’s not yet 9am. I’m probably not quite as grumpy as it sounds, but I do wish I was still in bed!

Had to wait a while for a tender. I don’t know why they were only loading one at a time. They had enough pontoons out to load four simultaneously, if they could be bothered. It took about 15 minutes to get to shore in Yorkey’s Knob. Yorkey was apparently the one-armed landowner who bought this stretch of coast. Allegedly. We went into the yacht club to (a) use the loos and (b) ask what there was here to see or do. You can’t rely on the port guide or the port talk woman, and the sum total of their information was precisely zero anyway. We were told there were some shops, so we took a taxi there. It turned out to be one enclave of shops, like they have in the USA – in the shape of two birds in flight, with car parks under the ‘wings’ (or two quadrangles, if you prefer). That was it for the whole town. So we had a drink in the Tasty café, bought some stuff in the Post Office (standard fare: postcards, magnets and a t-shirt), and the nice post lady called a cab for us. It never came, so we hailed one in the street and went back to the yacht club.

We then boarded the free shuttle bus, which took us into Cairns, about half an hour away. We drove through seas of sugar cane. This is flood plain, so no one builds here, apparently. That sounds smart. Hmmm. Maybe the UK should consider that? Not building on a known flood plain. What a novel idea.

Between the cane and the mountains that surrounded us on every side (except the one with the ocean), was the rainforest. It looked beautiful. But the humidity was so high where we were, there was no way we were going to get any closer to it! Those of you who remember my piece on the Panama Canal, will remember my mentioning how the clouds come so low, they literally seem to be catching on the branches of the trees, and shreds peel off. It’s really very pretty to watch, and it happened here too – more so on the way home, as the weather deteriorated somewhat. There was even a brief spate of windscreen wiper usage on the return shuttle bus.

Cairns is a biggish town, but well laid out, by the ocean, and very friendly. The oddest thing about it is that, whereas the rest of the world considers their coastline an asset and tourist trap, Cairns considers their coastline to be a positive danger. After having heard talk about jellyfish, crocodiles, sharks and cyclones, I can see why, mind you! Instead of putting hotels and cafes and watersports on their waterfront, they put their hospital there! It’s HUGE! It takes up several entire blocks. What a tragic waste of seafront. But, on the other hand, if you get caught by any of the aforementioned hazards, I suppose the location is very sensible indeed!

We eventually found a café overlooking the water –sort of – which was outside a shopping centre (both called The Pier). The food was quite good, although the service wasn’t marvellous. The sparkling water was out of date, but only by a couple of days. Does that count?

When I walked through the shopping centre afterwards, I found two other bars and cafes, both with amazing views of the water and the marina. And both SHUT. This is the venue nearest to the Cairns Cruise Terminal (where we clearly did not park because it was cheaper to moor off and tender in – there was no other cruise ship there). Why, if you know there is a cruise ship terminal, and you are located slap bang next door, would you be shut?! It’s Monday, it’s not even the weekend. Very puzzling. They knew we were coming, because you could see Arcadia moored out in the bay. In fact, several of the shopowners guessed we were from the ship, as soon as they heard our accents.

We browsed the shops and I very nearly bought a beautiful cocktail dress. I was, however, somewhat hesitant at paying £75 quid for a dress that doesn’t even reach the floor! I appreciate it was handmade, etc. but it still seemed prohibitively steep. Am still considering that decision, even now. Good thing they have a website, in case I change my mind… If you would like torture yourself by looking at some lovely dresses, the site is at http://www.wildsugarbysajeela.com.au. They ship to the UK, if that helps.

The heat and humidity was really tiring – 30 degrees in the shade and over 60% humidity, last time I checked – so movement and energy for exploring was severely limited amongst all three of us, so we headed back to the ship in time for 5pm. Confusingly, we had been told by P&O that the last bus from Cairns was at 6 and the last tender from Yorkey’s Knob at 7, but the bus driver, who drove us into town at lunchtime, said the last bus was 5, so we felt like we were cutting it pretty fine! Who was right and who was wrong, we may never know, but better safe than sorry (We eventually sailed a little before nine, so I have no idea).

Factoid of the day #1: Papua New Guinea is one of the most culturally diverse places on Earth, and has 841 languages spoken there. Apparently.

Factoid of the day #2: Only one in four in the UK reaches the age of 75. Woah. Really? Yikes.

UPDATE: This morning I left two letters at Reception. One, addressed to the Captain, about the church bells being piped into the cabins, and one addressed to Helen, the Hotel Manager, about her continuing lack of apology for the sewage incident.

This evening, the Captain has written to me to apologise for the church bells. He says it won’t happen again. He says he has personally seen to it.

The Head of Housekeeping (who recently changed) came to see me after dinner. The Hotel Manager, Helen, has also changed, and we now have Peter Someone (possibly Thomas). But Andrew Salinas, the new Head of Housekeeping took personal responsibility for the issue, despite not being on board when it occurred, saying it was his job to fix this. He was very apologetic and offered me some on board credit by way of an apology, both for the incident, and the delay in resolving the whole issue. This is a good deal. Most people get a free meal in one of the fine dining restaurants, that you normally pay extra to eat in. On board credit is a much better response, because I can spend it how I please. So I’m happy with that. And he said that, if I ever have another issue, I should contact him and he will PERSONALLY deal with it. This counts as a very satisfactory ending. Shame it took two months to sort.

The church bells toll the death knell of another week. *sigh* (And, yes, before you ask, they did broadcast them into the cabins – grrrr). This is going WAY too fast for my liking. We have passed halfway now, and have done over 19,000 miles. We are, essentially, now – via a rather circuitous route, granted – on our way home. Much as I love you all dearly, that’s a miserable thought. On the one hand, it’s a bit early for the post-holiday blues, but on the other, we have, to all intents and purposes, now finished three holidays, and only have three (well, two and a bit) left to go. So you could argue we have a right to a few post-holiday blues at this stage.

We have already said goodbye to Hugh, Bob, Sheila, Peter and Nicky from the first leg, Chris, Fran and Abigail from the second, and Paula and Dale and Laurie and Michael and Michael from the third. I am in email contact with Paula and Dale and Single Michael. So far, none of the others have made contact.

81 in the shade. Grey, overcast, not a breath of wind, sea like a millpond, H.A.H.(humid as hell)

Mum got her Mother’s Day cards first thing, and then her gifts at lunchtime – a small fluffy penguin from The Falklands, and a koala magnet from Sydney. I don’t think many people on the ship got Mother’s Day cards. I wonder if she realised how special she was?

Then we pretty much all went back to bed! We are shattered. I was way too weary to swim. I would have sunk like a stone. My arms and legs feel like jelly. And my brain has turned to mush (again). Couldn’t even complete a simple Sudoku today. And there were two crossword clues that stumped me as well – so it’s not just my logic, but my language centres that are affected. And as for my concentration…

Turns out the tablemates are quite good company, as long as no one mentions refugees…

We won’t be Skyping anyone tomorrow (Yorkey’s Knob/Cairns). We are currently at GMT +10, so 11am for us is 1am in the UK, which is no good, and we have to think about heading back (as it is a tender port) at about 5pm, which would be 7am, which would probably not go down well, either.  All this time zone nonsense is very confusing. Life was much simpler before Skype – we just sent postcards! Now we have to constantly think about what time it is at home, which is, frankly, exhausting.

10 hours’ sleep. Definitely needed that.

Fruit, Sudoku, pasta, swim. 20 lengths, I think. It was hard to keep count. An Australian man got in, swam very aggressively, spitting profusely with every head turn, showering everyone with his spat out water, and then he started kicking people as he passed. He got me right in the thigh muscle. Mercifully, he got out, eventually. It wasn’t as rough as the other day – when I swear there was at least one stroke that was so ineffective against the waves, that I think I actually went backwards. Today it was dead calm. Easier to complete a length, but not nearly as entertaining. Or, thanks to Spitty Kicky Man, as enjoyable.

Now here’s a statistic. 1 in 12 of the British population are being studied by a scientific study or survey of some kind. Wow. That’s a lot.

On deck today, a woman kept pushing her sunlounger backwards, ostensibly into the shade. But what she was actually doing was blocking the only thoroughfare across the deck. A waiter politely asked her to put her sunlounger further forward, but she shouted at him, saying she needed shade. I decided to back him up, pointing out that waiters and trolleys and wheelchairs needed to pass by. She said she would move if she was asked to. I asked her why she thought that someone in a wheelchair should have to ask her permission to cross the deck – I forgot to point out there are also blind people on board. She had a go at me, saying I was shouting at her, and I didn’t need to worry, as I am not in a wheelchair. I responded that I am capable of thinking of people other than myself. She moved her lounger. Some people.

Formal night. Teal dress, CZ necklace and bracelet. Pop socks to keep the toes warm. Early night. I’m getting too old for this.

For the first time on this whole trip, I forgot to put my watch back last night. I’m normally quite good at remembering. Not like me to forget something that important. On the upside, it meant that I was up and showered in time to watch Stranger Than Fiction, which is a lovely film. Might well go straight into my top ten ever.

We disembarked and found mum’s cousin, Joyaa, waiting for us. It was a long walk from the ship to the meeting point. They really should have warned us and offered wheelchair assistance (we found one for the return trip later!). It was lovely to see Joyaa. It’s been nearly seven years since we last saw him (we think!).

He drove us to Mount Coont-tha (?) (different spellings are available, but Kunta doesn’t seem any better), which gave us a spectacular view over the whole of Brisbane. We drove around the botanical gardens twice before we found the summit restaurant, so we got a good view of the local flora and fauna of the area as well, including getting very up close and personal with a bearded dragon, a kookaburra and an ibis. The road that runs around the mountain is shaped like Africa, so I navigated it as such (I was on map-reading duty all day). So I would announce, for example, that we were at Senegal, and aiming for Cape Town.

At the summit café, we had a snack lunch and some well-earned drinks and took lots of photos of the view. We also did some family tree surfing – Joyaa has built the most amazing website for grandpa’s tree – it’s phenomenal. We read out bits of mum’s great-grandfather’s UK naturalisation application, which turned out to include a drink driving conviction! Seriously, Wales let anyone in, in those days.

Then we went to the Lone Pine Koala Sanctuary (biggest in the world – are there many?!). No hesitation about student or senior discounts here. I pushed mum around the place in a borrowed wheelchair. It is all very smooth tarmac, but no one has given any thought to GRADIENTS, and sometimes I was very worried about stopping in time at the bottom – I had to swerve at least once to avoid some tables and chairs. And several times, on the ups, I was laid out at full stretch trying to get her up the hill. They are VERY steep. At one point, I thought I was going to give – either at my back or a knee – in which case, she would have rolled back down onto my head and probably killed me instantly. Someone really needs to talk to them about their wheeled access.

Mum had her photo taken with Cinnamon the koala – who was so lazy, she wouldn’t even open her mouth for eucalyptus, it had to be posted in – and then, after another drink (it was about 28 in the shade – maybe 35 in the sun), we drove to the University of Queensland, as Joyaa had an appointment. We used the free wifi in a nearby café and I bought some items in the Dental Faculty’s student shop, while we waited for him (flash drives are particularly cheap here, for some reason).

When Joyaa got back, we made our way to a wonderful restaurant, called The Odyssey. It is inside the Greek Club, which is a community-owned venue on the South Bank. This seems like a superb way to fundraise for your own community. Provided you have a proper restaurateur to run it, like they do here. We had one of the best meals of this entire trip. Even the live music wasn’t too loud. But the portions were VAST. I had something called lemon potatoes, which I had never had before. But I am now utterly hooked. They’re absolutely divine.

After dinner, Joyaa drove us all the way back to the ship – we weren’t in a container port this time, we were in a GRAIN DEPOT at the very end of the city. It was MILES away from anywhere. Literally at the end of the road. Any further, in any direction, you get wet. Poor Joyaa had an hour and a half journey to get home again afterwards. We felt quite bad about that.

But what a wonderful day. Glorious weather, and the best company possible. I hope it isn’t another seven years before we see Joyaa again.

The things to do list for next visits (if any) currently includes:

Sydney: Fort Dennison, Manly again – properly, paddle steamer.

Brisbane: Fort Lytton

A lovely sea day. I slept eleven hours straight. That will fix most things, I think you will find.

Fruit, pasta, Sudoku. 20 lengths with the new goggles. The whole world looks yellow, but they don’t stop the glare of the sun. Need to work out how to wear sunglasses over the top of them! They do their job, but because they are adjustable, they have rubber bobbles along both sides to act as stoppers at different lengths, and the bobbles leave a row of dents in the side of my face!

Then dinner. They are quite a pleasant group, I think. Jerry doesn’t say much, but when he speaks, he is invariably hilarious. And very quick-witted. Katie seems somewhat of a racist. Granted we were talking about Europe and the referendum and the refugee crisis, but making a comment about Asians taking over the whole country seemed a bit of a leap, and one I was not happy to hear. So I ended the conversation there and then. I’m not dignifying shit like that with an answer.

Quick Facebook check to finalise plans to meet our cousin tomorrow.

Then The Equalizer and bed. I’ve never seen this film. I remember the tv series with affection, and I was concerned about the hijacking of the concept. But it is rather good – a little formulaic in places, but none the worse for it. You know what you’re getting. It’s like eating in a Mcdonalds in Japan. It’s familiar enough that you know what you’re getting, but with the occasional extra twist to keep things interesting.  And a rather superb soundtrack to add to my list of wants – that and the Bourne soundtrack, if there is one.

Then Chicago on another channel. LOVE this film. One of my favourite musical movies.

Day two means we are now moored out in the harbour and have to tender ashore (we vacated our parking spot at 4am, and the Carnival Spirit was there when we woke). There was a bit of a wait for a tender, but only about half an hour. What we eventually boarded was not one of our lifeboats, but a Sydney Harbour Tour Boat, which was very comfy indeed. It was almost a shame we were only aboard for six minutes!

We came ashore on the “other” side of the Opera House (which is called Man O’ War Quay), and walked back towards town along Opera Quay. I had a home-made artisan ice lolly from a stall called Liane Raine. I had the melon one. It was divine. Keep an eye out for these lollies, they’re lovely.

We stopped at East Bank Pizzeria for an early, excellent lunch, and then had a row at the ferry ticket office. The woman at the counter refused me a student discount, because I am not studying within New South Wales and then also said my parents didn’t qualify as seniors, because they are not taxpayers here. Neither of these alleged restrictions have applied anywhere else, and neither are they written anywhere. We told her precisely what we thought of her (I get that maybe my student status might conceivably not apply, but are you seriously going to look two eighty-year-olds in the eye and tell them they don’t qualify as OLD?!).  I then went to an automatic ticket machine on a different wharf and bought whatever tickets I bloody well chose. No one stopped us. No one checked them. The entry machine accepted the tickets quite happily. Turns out the money inside my credit card is the same colour as everyone else’s. Who knew?! And then we boarded the Manly Ferry – we were the last ones through the gate!

Manly is half an hour away on the slow ferry (18 minutes if you take the “Fastferry”, but 12 minutes is not worth twice the money!) Manly is a lovely little seaside town, with beautiful beaches and excellent waterside cafes. The town has a pleasant feel – and three main streets in a u-shape. If you get a chance to visit, I am quite certain you will enjoy it.

Then back on board in time for dinner. We have four new people. One couple: Katie and Jerry, and two singles: Janet and Margaret. Janet and Katie were VERY put out that I said mum had a regular seat, by the window, facing forward. Apparently, because Janet sat there last night (because we dared to eat ashore), it is now hers. Tough. Then they said they wanted to rotate each night, and they seemed to think that we are compelled to submit to their desires. We’ll see how that goes for them. I, for one, don’t care either way, but you bully my mum at your peril. There are some things I will not stand for. Katie and Jerry will be gone by Hong Kong, but we’re stuck with Janet all the way home, so this may continue to be a bit of an issue.

When they had finished sulking, they turned out to be fairly pleasant to talk to, and we had a bit of a laugh, swapping “cruises we have been on where we left people behind” stories. This was prompted by some repeated and rather insistent tannoy messages for certain individuals. It seemed puzzling that they kept doing the messages. BOB tonight is 10.30pm, so making announcements at 7.30 is unlikely to guarantee you a response…

I’m going to bed. I am tired beyond belief.

Happy St David’s Day.

Don’t go back. Don’t ever go back.

We disembarked and walked up to The Rocks to make a dinner reservation overlooking the water. We always eat at Wolfies if we can. The food is excellent and the service is superb and the view is breathtaking. Then we pootled around The Rocks for a bit, dodging a few raindrops. I went down the other side, to the nearest dry cleaners. That’s a LOT of stairs. My knees may never forgive me. Then we went to Pancakes on The Rocks for lunch. Like I say, NEVER go back.

Before we go any further, be warned there is absolutely no disabled access to the branch of Pancakes on the Rocks at Metcalfe Buildings. If I had realised they had other branches, I would never have suggested my parents negotiate the entire flight of wooden stairs to get there. The restaurant is also on a different floor to all the toilets. Spiffing. If you go to Pancakes on the Rocks, go to the branch at Darling Harbour. It’s on the flat. And the rest of what follows may also not apply.

So, anyway, the meal. First they sat us under building work and bits of ceiling kept falling on our heads.  So we moved tables. Then, when I ordered the beef ribs, which had been so amazing previously (about half a cow!), I got TWO ribs. TWO. It was embarrassing. That’s not a portion, under any definition. That barely justifies a plural. And they charged EIGHTEEN POUNDS for those two ribs. Seriously. What they thought they were playing at, I have no idea, but there is no way I will ever set foot in any branch of that chain ever again. It’s a shame, because they were very tasty, but I will not be conned like that twice. Considering how over-generous the portions used to be, they have clearly gone too far the other way, now. But their marketing fails are not my problem. Charging nearly forty dollars for a portion that small is not going to do well for them in the long-term. Shame, really. On the plus side, the service is nowhere near as lethargic as it used to be. But it doesn’t matter how good the service is, if the food served up is so disappointing.

Then we took the Hop on hop off bus around Sydney, disembarking at Darling Harbour. We pootled the cafes and shops for a while.

There is shockingly little wifi available in Sydney, considering the average age is so young around here. The only old people we saw were from the ship! Which may also explain the lack of disabled facilities/ toilets/ ramps/ consideration anywhere in this place. It’s rubbish. If you want wifi, you have to go to one of a limited number of cafes and restaurants, mostly big chains, and then only if you buy something. The concept of free wifi has definitely not made it across from New Zealand. So near, yet so far.

We got the bus back to The Rocks, and had our LOVELY dinner at Wolfies.  Absolutely superb meal. The main and dessert were so good, I didn’t believe they were gluten-free, and they had to go back to the kitchen to check!

Then bed. Utterly shattered. This heat and humidity is exhausting, and the excessive number of stairs seems to have damaged my right knee in some way. It really hurts. I hope it will be okay by tomorrow.  I think we are at GMT +11, but don’t quote me on that. I don’t really have the slightest clue. 83 in the shade will do that to a person.

Happy Leap Day.

Got up late. Lunch – pasta, fruit, Sudoku.

Australian face-to-face immigration. We all processed into the restaurant, got handed back our passports -which the ship holds so they do all the shenanigans most of the time, and we get left alone -processed to the other end, met one of three immigration officers, who opened the passport, counted the forms and checked they had been filled in with words (they didn’t check WHAT words!), glanced at the passport photo and up at us, and then handed them back, and then those of us staying on past Oz handed the passports and all the forms straight back to the crew and walked out. What a complete waste of time and energy. Still the three officers got a two-day all expenses paid cruise out of it, so someone was happy.

Irate email to bank. Siesta.

Busy day. Busy, busy, busy.

Last dinner with Laurie and Michael and Michael. We had a nice time and said our goodbyes. It’s sad to lose them. And always a bit scary to see who we will get next.

Spent a lot of money online tonight, talking to a friend from uni at home. Her husband, also my friend from uni (I sang at their wedding), is in hospital, seriously ill. I wish I could rush to her side and alleviate her burden, but I could not physically be further away, and it feels awful to be so unable to help.

Sunday 28^th February 2016 – Sea Day

I am trying to be methodical, so I have today downloaded all the photos from my camera thus far and put them in folders on my C: drive, divided up by port. That has taken me about an hour and a half to sort through. But I am at least now up-to-date. So far, I have taken 1.7 GB of photos (or 861 images if you prefer). Still some editing in my future, I think! It took just under ten minutes (9m 50s) to make a backup copy onto a flash drive. Better safe than sorry. Our friend, Pauline, managed to delete the entire first two sectors off of her camera, whilst trying to download to her laptop, so she has nothing to show for the first month of the cruise, which is very sad. I’m not normally so paranoid about backing up, but I’m prepared to be over-cautious, rather than under, on a trip like this.

We’re all so tired today, we don’t know what we’re doing. Everyone is crotchety and grumpy and loss of appetite is widespread. We are all a bit shell-shocked after the past few days. “Doing” a city in a day is not an easy task, at the best of times, and in high humidity, it really takes it out of you; doing three on consecutive days is just silly. Everyone is exhausted. And most of us have lost all interest in food and eating. I have no appetite at all, and Dad has started skipping meals.

We are also in the midst of some rather bumpy weather. As I and Tomasz Shafernaker predicted, we have bumped into what remains of Hurricane Winston, and it’s not a smooth ride, even with the rain to hold things down a bit.  We are really pegging it, to try and get out of the way – averaging over 20 knots all night, when we normally slow down to between 10 and 15 – but it still caught us.

Which, all combined, explains the hour and a half siesta I had to take. And no one seems particularly overjoyed at the idea of another formal tonight At All. No, sirree. I wore what I always where when there is a formal night I can’t be bothered with – the Monsoon dress, no jewellery. C.B.A.

Bit of a todo at dinner. Yesterday, Married Michael suggested we go to the Ocean Grill for chateaubriand tonight – the last formal of the leg before we lose all our remaining tablemates (Dale and Paula having left at Auckland). It ended up with me and Michael and Michael, which is silly, because chateaubriand is normally shared between two, and there were three people. So we went our separate ways, and I thought no more about it. Clean forgot it, to be honest. Tonight, when Single Michael arrived, he said that Married Michael had reiterated the invitation and were we going. I said no. Firstly, I was not hungry (I really am not – see above), and secondly, I’ve just sat down to eat with my parents, who were not apparently invited. In addition to which, we pre-order our meals, so that decision was also already taken. I suggested Single Michael go with them, but he wasn’t keen either – having had afternoon tea, and so little appetite left himself. Neither was it clear that there was even a table available at the Ocean Grill. So he rang back and said no. Married Michael came to join us for dinner alone.  He said he’d take something back with him afterwards for Laurie, which he duly did, although I didn’t see what.  We had a pleasant meal and then went our separate ways. It’s a shame we didn’t work it out properly in advance, because the food in the grill is very good, but with pre-orders and parents and a striking lack of appetite, it’s not easy to be spontaneous, however good the chateaubriand will taste. And I really wasn’t in the mood for a three-hour meal. I’m just too tired. I’ll be in bed by 10. I don’t have the energy to still be on desserts and coffees at that hour. Not today. Shattered.com. Absolutely pooped. Talking of which, my duvet is calling. Gnite.