Sea Day 7 of 9 – Monday 15^th February 2016

Every day at noon the First Officer does an announcement, updating us on some stuff. Herewith today’s highlights. We have now travelled 13,012 nautical miles since leaving Southampton. We are in what is known as the British Exclusive Economic Zone. We apparently have Sovereign rights in this area, because we are within 200 miles of Pitcairn, which is a British Territory with 70 inhabitants (did you know Pitcairn was British?! I didn’t). We are also in the vicinity of falling space debris (well, where else would you send it down but in the middle of the middle of nowhere?!), and the Bridge will try and find out when it is due to land and whether we will be close enough to see it – apparently it’s an old Russian satellite that they are trying to burn up. The air temperature is now 27 in the shade. Some sort of siren started on the Bridge while the First Officer was giving us that information. Oops. I don’t think we were supposed to hear that! I wonder what it was. Maybe we are closer to the satellite’s landing track than we thought?!

24 lengths. Ridiculous current.  My arms are still aching four hours later.

Dinner was a piece of chicken that took up half my ten inch plate and was a good two inches thick at the centre. I assume it was a chicken. But, if it was, it was most of one. I think the special diets chef has decided that he feeds me so badly during the daytime, that he really needs to play catch-up at dinner. Either that, or he is trying to kill me with quantity, so I’ll be less of a nuisance in future. It feels like every day the portions are getting bigger. Everyone was intrigued to see if I could get through it, but as I only had fruit for lunch, I was more than capable. Mind you, I ordered jelly for dessert, and I really thought I wouldn’t have room for it.

I think I have figured out why I have no appetite. It’s because every night now we lose an hour, so lunch is an hour closer to breakfast or last night’s dinner. I am typing this at 9pm our time, which is 4am tomorrow for you, and our clocks go back again tonight, so 8pm your time tomorrow will be noon for us. I think. And then tomorrow, they go back again, I think… To be honest, I’m really not sure any more. It’s very confusing, and everyone is tired and exhausted and confused. We are all forgetting appointments and getting muddled, and if snoozing was an Olympic sport, there isn’t a passenger aboard that would not be in with a medal hope. Come to think of it, even the crew are getting a bit discombobulated, and they do this all the time. Savio, the bar manager of the Spinnaker Bar, said that his sleep patterns are also up the spout. We are all, all over the place. I just hope the Bridge team are holding it together better than the rest of us!

Won’t see mum and dad til late tomorrow, because, at Valparaiso, they went up a loyalty tier, and so they have a luncheon tomorrow, just for them. The P&O points system only takes into account the past three years of cruises (ten points for every day at sea), so you can drop down really easily, and then pop up again on a long one like this. It’s very silly. Apparently, the Baltic and Ligurian (top two) tiers tomorrow are now so under-populated that there will only be six tables tomorrow at their lunch! Doesn’t really seem worth the bother, if you ask me. I’ll stay on deck (in the shade/pool) and stick to my fruit platter. Much more manageable, and the dress code is more relaxed too!

People are now starting to whinge about the number of sea days in a row. I love it, but I may have mentioned that not everyone feels the same. This is what cabin fever actually is. They get sick of the same four walls, and even being out of deck can feel oppressive. Personally, I think if you enjoy a sea day, you enjoy a sea day, and the number in a row shouldn’t matter, but apparently some people get really desperate to feel solid land under their feet. This is day seven. How these spoiled, whinging idiots would have coped on a five WEEK trip from the UK to Australia, I cannot imagine. It’s pathetic, if you ask me.

Right now, it’s just a bit of light-hearted moaning (mostly along the lines of “I’m bored”), but in the next day or so, it could get a bit grumpy. It has, actually, already begun. One bloke bit my head off today for suggesting that putting his sunlounger across the only path across the deck, thus blocking a waiter and his trolley, was perhaps somewhat less than 100% sensible. Got all huffy about what he called “doing what he was told”. Seeing as the waiter had been saying ‘Excuse me’ for the best part of two minutes before I intervened, I figured he was either deaf or stupid, so I stepped in to help. Well, if you can’t be considerate enough to think that maybe people need to get past your arrogant arse; like, ooh, I dunno, staff, wheelchair and scooter users, or the people bringing you YOUR OWN LUNCH, then maybe you do need to have it pointed out to you, Einstein.  Some people. *sigh*

Plenty more where that came from, I’m guessing. It’ll be nice to get to Tahiti on Thursday, when the attitude will hopefully get dialled back down a notch or two.

Oh poo. I think I forgot to pay my mortgage last month. I told you we were all confused. Oops. There goes my lovely credit score I’ve spent a year rebuilding. *sigh*

Sea Day 6 of 9- Valentine’s Day – Sunday

Late start. Fruit, Sunday roast beef out on deck. 26 in the shade. Sudoku, booked a massage for two days’ time. 20 lengths. Rest. Formal night. Wore the pink shalwar kameez. Received several compliments, which was nice.

After dinner, I went to the show with Michael and Laurie. It was called Reel to Reel and centred on songs from British movies. It was quite good- a couple of the singers will be worth keeping an eye out for in the future, in the West End, I think.  They even did the Full Monty! Laurie loves music, so afterwards, we went to a music quiz in the pub. We didn’t win, but we did quite well and had a lot of fun. As we were in a quizzy mood, we then went up and did the Syndicate Quiz. We ended up sat next to Mum and Dad and their regular table – they go every night. Again, we didn’t win, but we did better than they did – partly because Craig and Peter didn’t arrive until it was nearly over, so they were down a third of their team and also the ‘young’ contingent they normally rely on.

Then had to walk the entire length of the ship – from the front tables of the Crow’s Next to the aft-most internal cabin – which took me a while in kitten heels! Bed. Shattered. Clocks go back again tonight. Tomorrow morning we will wake up at GMT-7. It’s getting quite confusing now. Basically, I’m getting up as you head home at the end of the day. My world is quite topsy-turvy at the moment.

Sea Day 5 of 9 – Easter Island

That may be the worst night’s sleep I have had in a long time.

26 in the shade today. And the sea is a startling shade of bright cobalt blue that is even less feasible than previous incarnations.

Got up at some unhealthy hour to see Easter Island. Didn’t see much. It looks very beautiful, despite humans mucking up the ecology by chopping down all the trees, much as they did on Dartmoor. We did not see many Mooai – I have a few blurry shots – but hopefully the ship’s photographers had more powerful lenses and got some decent photos from 1.5 miles out. There seems to be quite a lot of anger among the passengers that we (a) didn’t land, as originally advertised (b) only stayed three hours in total instead of going around for a while, as we did at the Horn, but you are totally powerless and at the whim of P&O, who clearly have no clue how badly people want to see this place, and neither, it seems, do they much care.

I asked for pasta for lunch. There wasn’t any GF pasta, for some reason, despite previous promises, so my poor pet head waiter went down to the stores himself to get some (unbeknownst to me). Then he found out that the Bolognese had flour in – who the heck puts flour in Bolognese?! So that had to be made for me from scratch as well. I felt really bad for putting him to so much trouble, but he keeps insisting that it is his job to make me happy. He seems to be the only person on this ship who really grasps the concept of customer care. He is the saving grace of the staff on this ship. The rest should be ashamed of themselves. I was so grateful, I wolfed it down without letting it cool down properly, and then I overheated and ended up dripping with sweat, despite the air conditioning! My own silly fault – it’s not like I don’t know how my body temperature will behave – but it was very yummy.

I was so tired (and warm), that I fell asleep at the table, so I went back to my cabin for a siesta, and then a shower before dinner with Michael. I have finally succeeded in finding cold water on the shower settings, but even on the very coldest setting possible, the warm still fights through sometimes, and I have to jump out of the way. The remnants of my sunburn were very grateful for the cold water, when it came.  At least it is currently calm enough that I don’t have to sway about to find the cold every few seconds. It was bliss.

My left shoulder has started to peel a bit, despite my application of copious amounts of aftersun and moisturiser.

I gave dad his Valentine’s Day card yesterday to sign for mum, while she wasn’t around, and mum did his today. I will deliver them tonight. Neither of them offered to pay me for them!

Have just seen a thing on the BBC World News that a salmonella outbreak in California was traced to a frog breeding facility. A what?! What on Earth does a frog breeding facility do with its product? Is there a big demand for frogs?! And how does a frog breeding facility come to have salmonella in the first place, then let it get out, and then spread it to the wider community? This is all very odd. Will have to go to the BBC Healthcheck website and find out if I have misheard or misunderstood.

UPDATE: Dinner with Michael was very pleasant. The food was fine, if not spectacular – my steak was a little over-cooked, and he said his seafood was quite bland – the conversation flowed and we got on really well. And he paid for everything. A lovely evening. We parted company after three hours, which is a very relaxed pace for a ship-board meal.

Friday 12^th – Sea Day 4 of 9

It has finally dawned on me why we have little or no internet or television signal here. We are officially in the middle of nowhere. Easter Island (tomorrow) is the most isolated inhabited place on Earth, and we are nearly there. So the satellites don’t bother sending their footprint down here, because there is virtually no one to receive the signal. We rarely see another ship. This does make me feel a little vulnerable. We probably have GPS and radar, but with no satellite communications whatsoever, we are, to put it bluntly, on our own. This is probably the most isolated we can ever be – as a ship and as human beings. None of our tech will help us here. We might as well be a 1930s cruise liner – once you sail, that’s it til you get to the next bit of land. No one will help you on the inbetween bit. No one can. There’s no point in having an accurate GPS signal if you can’t communicate it to anyone else.  It’s a surprisingly vertiginous feeling to know that you are pretty much cut off and on your own. This is where the quality of the Bridge team and Engineering really matter. This is the bit where they earn their money, by keeping us safe and keeping us moving. This is not somewhere you want to break down. You’re thousands of miles from the nearest tow.

You are also stuffed as regards the weather forecast. They don’t think there is anyone here either. The forecast, on Sky or BBC or whatever, jumps from South America round to New Zealand and stuff you if you live in between. Or are sailing from one to the other. I don’t know where the Bridge gets their info from, but it’s all we have, as regards the weather for now. Luckily, it is warm, humid and windless, so there isn’t much to be informed about. Which is handy, considering.

MEMORY: I don’t know if I mentioned it earlier but we had a posh lunch a while ago and we met one of the Third Officers. He is from a small village called Kingsdown in Kent. Only a small number of my readers will have the faintest idea what that means, but he was as chuffed to meet me, as I was to meet him! We chatted for ages.

Laurie has degenerative disc disease in her back and osteoarthritis. She has had surgery three times on her back, on both knees and her left foot. She also has fibromyalgia, so when I said I had CFS (which is what Americans call M.E.), she understood. It’s nice to meet someone who ‘gets it’.

My brain fog may not have cleared up as much as I thought. I forgot to go to two separate things I had committed to, earlier today. Oops. Michael is taking me to the Ocean Grill tomorrow for dinner. I must try and remember to go to that!

The P&O lies and misinformation continues. People booked this cruise because it said we would be at Easter Island all day. Then they found out it was only a sail-past, without landing. Today they announced it would only be for three hours and we would be gone by lunchtime. The whole thing is a farce. We spend a whole day going around the Horn three times and yet when we get somewhere we actually WANT to be, we are there for less than four hours. Absolute farce. No one gives the passenger the slightest thought or consideration.

OBSERVATION: all over allergy itching and sunburned skin are NOT a good mix.

Thursday 11^th – Sea Day 3 of 9

1. No internet.
2. Crew drills were due to start at 10am. They started at 9am. Seriously, is there ANYONE on this ship who can tell the time?! They also broadcast the crew alerts through the cabins, despite the fact they are nothing to do with the passengers at all. I went down AGAIN and explained that if someone hard of hearing wakes up to the words “Abandon Ship” coming through the speakers, they could possibly actually kill someone through fear, but they don’t care. They have their procedures and to hell with the consequences. It doesn’t matter if you say “For exercise, for exercise” beforehand, if that person is asleep or half asleep or deaf, and doesn’t hear the whole message. It astonishes me that they are so cavalier about this, but I suppose until someone actually does die of fright, they’ll go on thinking they are immune and free to do as they please and not affecting the passengers (or interested even if they are), however many people complain.

Neither of these things is a good way to start my day. Am trez grumpy now and I’m not even dressed yet. Mind you, bearing in mind there isn’t much on telly either, I may just get some work and chores done. Oh yes, they continue, no matter where you are in the world!

We have now sailed 11,201 miles since leaving Southampton.

It was 22 in the shade on deck today, but the wind was up a bit, so I didn’t swim. It was not the power of the waves or the water temperature that worried me today, it was the prospect of getting out and immediately being hit by that (surprisingly cold) wind blowing across the open decks, that put me off. When I was very small, and I had a fever, the doctor told my parents that the most efficient way to cool down a human body is to get its skin wet and let evaporation do its work. I don’t have a fever, so I don’t fancy that, right now, ta very much, although the sunburn on my shoulders may vote differently (still warm, not as sore, thanks for asking).

Clocks go back AGAIN tonight to GMT-5. This is all very confusing. It basically means that, by the time I’m heading up on deck to meet the parents for lunch, you are all on your way home from work, and if I want to do something “in the morning”, it has to be completed by 7am my time, in order to hit your noon. Anyone who knows me in the slightest knows how I feel about single digit times in the morning, so please don’t expect too much of me for a while! At any hour. My body clock is completely versmooshed.

At dinner, I sat with Single Michael (as I will refer to him from now on, in order to differentiate him from Laurie and Michael, who went fine dining today as it is their wedding anniversary) and Paula. Dale chatted to Mum and Dad down the other end of the table. We had a lovely time. They are both excellent company and very funny. The only stumble was when I had jelly for dessert and had to explain to Paula the difference between jelly and Jell-O. I think we got there! She used to live in San Francisco, so we chatted about touristy spots and good tour guides and slightly more unusual sites to see after you’ve done the obvious ones. I think I have now pinned down that she is an accountant, by trade, although she would rather be a “retired accountant” apparently!

We have been crossing the Roggeveen Basin today, if you’re interested. The sea was REALLY calm- like glass. I wondered if we had wandered back up to the Doldrums, it was so still.  I was worried I might not sleep overnight because it really wasn’t moving much, but as bedtime approached, the captain turned the ship so that what little swell there was would rock us to sleep. How very considerate. Sea colour: that bright improbable blue of the P&O livery again. The one that you look at it and think, well, I know the sea looks that colour in paintings, but I doubt it ever really goes that colour in real life.

UPDATE: I have had some emails asking how I am doing health-wise after my glutening. How very thoughtful of you to ask. Well, the patches of skin numbness are fewer, as are the night-time leg cramps – I am down to two of those a night, instead of five or six in the early days. I still need a siesta to deal with the extra drowsiness and fatigue (and the time zone changes don’t help with that!), but I’m down to an hour, from two and a half, which is also a vast improvement. Today was the all over itchy day, so my system is really working to clear itself of the rubbish. The loss of concentration and cognitive impairment/woolly thinking are less – although I am still finding it hard to concentrate enough to complete a Sudoku in one sitting, and I have no idea what I wrote for the OU essay that was due last week! My nose is still running, but again, not as much, my mouth doesn’t feel like it has had wall to wall carpeting installed every morning, and the raging, unquenchable thirst is subsiding – which is a relief because that was getting very expensive! Walking anywhere is still more effort that it should be, because my legs still feel like they’re full of lead, but, all in all, it wasn’t too bad, thanks. The digestive discomfort went completely quite quickly (which is how I knew it was not a full-on attack) and my other symptoms are now fading. I should be fine in other week or so. If I can get away with feeling normal after two weeks, I’ll be happy. Major damage can leave people suffering for up to six months (I seem to average four to six weeks for a big one), so I’d be quite happy with a fortnight. I imagine that the cramps and fatigue will last a little longer than a fortnight, but the worst should be over by then.

Sea Day 2 of 9

I think I may be a little addicted to Ambassadors. For those of you who have no idea what I am talking about, it is a sitcom starring Mitchell and Webb, set in a made up country of Tazbekistan, where Mitchell is the British Ambassador, Webb is his assistant, and that bloke from Spooks (Matthew something?) plays their boss. Keeley Hawes plays Mitchell’s wife. It is hypnotic. I love it. Beautifully observed.

Saw the first half of The Great Gatsby today (the Leo DiCaprio one). Had to stop for dinner. Will hopefully catch the rest of it when they show it again in a couple of days’ time. Enjoyed it thus far.

I watched City Slickers last night. Haven’t seen that in YEARS. Still a very enjoyable film and Norman is still utterly adorable.

Had fruit for lunch. It’s hard to eat when you have become so heartily sick of food. If I could get away with not ever eating again, I would certainly give it a try. Right now, I couldn’t care less if I didn’t see, smell or taste anything for 48 hours. Unfortunately, the tablets I have to take cannot be taken on an empty stomach, so I HAVE to eat at least twice a day. But it is astonishing to me just what a chore it has become, even without the ordering hassles I had to deal with at the outset.

Had turkey in GF breadcrumbs this evening. Think I got away with it. Maybe they’ve tightened things up in the kitchen. Tomorrow is Sunday (yes, I know it’s Thursday, but it’s roast beef and Yorkshire pudding, so it feels like a Sunday. I call turkey and sprouts day Christmas too, fyi – anything to break the monotony of mealtimes).

10 lengths against the rather large waves. Arms ache like mad. Feel like I did 100. I have now calculated that, on average, if you’re swimming against the tide, you can do up to one third more strokes to complete a length compared to when it is flat. I nearly choked because I was laughing so hard – I was swimming like crazy but not progressing one inch forwards – the waves just left me hanging in mid-air until they had passed. It was very silly indeed. I must have looked ridiculous – paddling like Wil E. Coyote looking for a cliff under his feet that isn’t there.  I swallowed a fair amount as a result of the laughing in mid-swim, obviously, but at least that was a little less to go in my ears from when the pitches became rolls (I’m trusting you recall the difference) and slammed into my ears as the waves went from side to side instead of front to back. Perhaps I’m too easily entertained , but I laughed a lot. In fact, considering how much I swallowed in the process, maybe it’s acceptable to say I really did laugh like a drain.

Met a lady called Christine – on with her husband Peter, who was off somewhere else – who WON this cruise on the Daily Telegraph website! Apparently there are six winners around– one who won the whole trip and five more who won a sector each. Very cool. But this is her first cruise and she was sick all day yesterday. She seems very nervous about being aboard, and that she doesn’t know what she thinks everyone else knows. We tried to reassure her that there were plenty of others who had never been on Arcadia before, or maybe even never cruised, but I don’t think she was convinced!

At dinner, sat next to Michael. He is fun to hang out with. He is a (divorced with kids) law tutor and exam marker, but he has never practised law, which seems a little odd to me. He invited me to dinner at the Ocean Grill one night, which might be nice. I’ll have to keep an eye on my finances though. £12 for a meal that I could eat elsewhere for free is a bit steep, so I’ll have to think about it. Tonight was another formal and, oddly, another Black and White – I’m sure we just had one of those at the end of the last sector – but at least I can now get all the black and white smart clothes and dresses washed without having to worry about when the next one is, cos it won’t be on this sector (which is a very long one – 17 days). I seem to be missing my other black and white dress, which is worrying. May have to get everything out from under the bed and have a rummage sometime.

Have finished reading Philosophy and the Hitchhikers’ Guide to the Galaxy. Quite odd. Very deep and detailed in places and then just massively glossing over other issues entirely. Sort of “that’s a whole separate book/issue/story” type thinking. Well, that’s what I bought this book to read about, thanks very much, so a little disappointing. The discussion of the ethics of eating an animal that wants to be eaten seemed to skip most of the main ideas, and I found it quite frustrating, but other bits were very interesting. Maybe the next book in the pile will feel more satisfying (no pun intended).

Here endeth Wednesday.

Sea Day 1 of 9

Feel free to read that again. NINE sea days coming up.

A bit bumpy first thing, and the pools and decks were closed because of the wind. But by teatime, things had calmed down enough to open everything (except, bizarrely, the roof, despite the fact it was 20 degrees in the shade). I tried to go for a swim, but apparently, when they close off the pool, they don’t bother to heat it. So after getting in as far as just above my knees before realising my toes were already going numb, I beat a yelpingly hasty retreat. Settled for going back to my cabin and having a shower while it was calm – although we are still rolling a bit, so the water basically alternates between warm and icy depending on which way the ship is moving. I wanted icy, to cool the sunburn on my shoulders, so I had to sway the opposite way, at the same speed, so that I was out of the way when the warm bits flowed.  Just taking a shower becomes decidedly complicated on a ship. And you cannot weigh yourself unless you are in port, because the movement of the ship on the water means your mass fluctuates! Most passengers find all the rocking very soothing – makes it very hard to stay awake. Mum and Dad were dozing too.

Met a new waitress today – there are three types of waiting staff – food servers, table clearers and drinks sellers (who get commission on every drink they sell). Her name is Geneva (apparently) and she is from Manila. We’re going there. We could have picked her up. But instead, P&O flew her from Manila to Tokyo, Tokyo to San Francisco, San Francisco to Atlanta (?!) and then Atlanta to Valparaiso. She spent 24 hours on planes. And then boarded Arcadia. So for someone who, two days ago had never set foot on a plane or a ship, she was having a hell of a time of it. She has boarded just in time for the roughest weather since the Western Approaches and she has not been well at all, poor thing. She was remarkably cheery considering, but she did look pale. I hope she gets her sea legs soon.

Today was Shrove Tuesday, so they served a pancake buffet on deck (and crepe suzette at dinner). They didn’t bother to offer, but when I asked the Head Chef for gluten-free pancakes, he was happy to make them for me. I just had to wait for a bit, while they were made, especially for me. I just worry that all the other coeliacs on board, who are not as stubborn as me, missed out, because if you don’t ask around here, you definitely don’t get. In the end, I got three (I had asked for two!), rather pallid-looking, but perfectly yummy, pancakes with sugar and lemon juice. Yum. Good thing I hadn’t ordered a big supper (cold meat and salad).

More about the tablemates: Dale is a radar engineer for the US Navy in the Marshall Islands (American base, off Australia). Still not sure what Paula does. They say “we” a lot, so maybe she works for the DOD as well. Dunno. Her dream is to teach ballroom dancing on a cruise ship, but Dale doesn’t dance, so I don’t fancy her chances!

Michael has stories to tell about online dating. He is clearly very lonely, although I have no idea why, because he’s absolutely lovely. He says that dates go well about 50% of the time, and the best way is to talk on the phone first.  Cue discussion about the sex habits of the youth of today – Tindr, etc. All sex, no marriage, seemed to be the consensus. They looked pointedly at me a few times, but I pointed out that I am not the youth of today, by any stretch of the imagination, and we left it at that!

After dinner, we went to the show, because it was one we didn’t think we had seen before, and also, due to the first sector having no shows at all, due to the stage malfunctioning, I haven’t actually been to one yet! It wasn’t very good. They were doing a Rough Routine (they learn 17 shows, and two versions of each – one for rough weather, one for smooth (with more jumps and stuff in)) and it was a little mechanical – like they were getting moves muddled in their heads between the two versions, which is entirely possible. But the singing was quite good. And then, about two thirds the way through, the stage broke. Again. So we sat with the house lights up for ten minutes and then they finished the show – although it seemed to have suddenly metamorphosed into Jersey Boys, as all the songs they did after the pause were Frank Valli and the Four Seasons songs. I suppose there is a connection with a show entitled New York Rhythm, but if you said that Jersey was New York to a genuine inhabitant of either, I think you’d get a punch on the nose.

As the show started, Michael came and sat with me, because he said that Laurie had snapped at him twice and he needed some space. We swapped some soothing comments about people in pain and letting them have their moments. We then chatted about previous cruises, ferry journeys we have taken, and seasickness tales, until the show started and by the third song, he was asleep! He woke up for most of the applause bits. When the stage broke, he went to check on Laurie, who was sitting at the back, in the wheelchair section (leg broken in two places, remember?). But she wasn’t there. So he left to go and look for her. This may turn into a bigger barney than I was originally expecting. Doesn’t bode well. They only boarded yesterday!

Clocks go back tonight to GMT-4, which won’t help with anyone’s sleep patterns.

Monday 8^th Feb – Valparaiso, Chile

We expected disembarkation to be chaos. We’re just trying to see the town, but they were offloading 1000 passengers and loading 1000 fresh ones (who will undoubtedly bring fresh germs with them –oh goody). Having negotiated the forms, x-rays and sniffer dogs checking us for food, we made it out into the enormous terminal. As expected, the taxi drivers were very stroppy and kept insisting we had to take a tour for an hour. We eventually found someone willing to take our money to deliver us to the Ascuncion Funicular. It was down a tiny alleyway. If we hadn’t had his guidance, we would never have spotted it!

Once again, we lacked local currency (you can’t buy it out of the country or take it out of the country or spend it anywhere else, so why would you want any?!), but a very nice man in the queue, who basically wanted to practice his English on us, changed some money for us, so we could go up – and come back down later. The woman on the turnstile was unspeakably unhelpful – she could not have cared less how many tourists she turned away. I wonder if her employers feel the same about all the money she refuses?!

It was a short trip – probably less than a minute – but a ride in a tiny 1883 original funicular is a rare treat for me, so I was like a puppy with two tails.

At the top, it was still warm and cloudy – I expected higher breezes, but there were none. We strolled for a bit through the UNESCO World Heritage Site buildings, in their pretty colours and varied architecture. They are required to protect the facades, but they are happy to gut them and rebuild the insides from scratch, so there were some very derelict-looking works in progress. There was some interested public art/mural work, but a surprising amount of dog poo. Not an issue we normally face in touristy places! We found an art gallery with a café attached, and had a drink on their balcony, overlooking the whole bay. Spectacular.

We had to change our planned route because the funicular we had intended to head towards, in order to come back down, was not working. So we wandered a bit further, and I found the particular piece of public art I wanted mum to see – a staircase (yes, there are hundreds in this place – it’s built across (allegedly) 42 hills) painted like a piano keyboard, located on? Beethoven Passsage, of course. I saw it on the port talk, which, as usual, I duly watched with the sound off. The bits I did hear involved her describing the whole town as one big, very steep, staircase. I have no doubt she put some people off from bothering to go ashore. In fact, it was quite similar to Salvador in its layout – some bits are up and some are down. There’s plenty of “flat” available. Even the funiculars have level access. But I bet she didn’t tell anyone that.

From there, we found ourselves walking downhill and so, instead of taking a second funicular, we walked back down. The murals and art became ever more spectacular as we descended, climaxing at a Café Sunflowers with Van Gogh’s Starry Night painted on the side! Sadly, with the really amazing art increase came a commensurately massive surge in tagging. This is, without a shadow of a doubt, the most graffiti-filled place we have ever seen. There is not a single surface that has not been tagged. Even the canvas fences around cafés have been tagged. Hotels? Hospitals? Government buildings? Glass? Brick? Antique plaster? Nothing is immune, as far as I can see, except churches. It’s hideous. This could be quite a nice place, but the tagging makes everything look so ugly and neglected, it’s hard to see past it.

At the bottom, we found a taxi to take us to the market, but when he explained that the food court was upstairs, and there was no lift or escalator, he instead took us two blocks away, to a lovely little local café, where we had a very nice lunch. It had little individual booths/houses (with proper tiled roofs) if you wanted more privacy during your meal. Mum and dad had toasted cheese sandwiches and I had steak and chips – there aren’t many options for lunch in Chile if you can’t eat cheese, ham, prawns or bread!

The sun came out after lunch, so we then went to the Tourist Information to ask their advice, but it was shut, so we got a taxi to the Ibis (the only hotel we could find that we had heard of!) and used their wifi to Skype home. The signal at the London end gradually deteriorated as more and more people logged on after work (we are three hours behind – so it was teatime for us, but home time for London), so we gave up after a while, and went back to the ship. Mum wanted to shower while we were still in port;  I wrote and posted some postcards before dinner.

The best bit of advice I can give you for here is, get a decent map. The one handed out at the terminal was RUBBISH, and did not show either all the roads – which you would have was a given for a tourist roadmap of your town, wouldn’t you? -, or differentiate between up and down, or even explain where the funiculars really went. The map handed out at the Ibis was much better and more helpful, but, sadly, we were almost done by then. Go there first. They have a whole drawer full of maps you can pinch.

We found out at dinner that there was a Sheraton somewhere, but as none of the maps here show any hotels (another first for us!), we made do with the Ibis, which was fine.

Our new tablemates are:

Laurie and Michael – American, live in LA but from New York and Alabama via Brazil. Laurie broke her leg in two places three weeks ago, and had an operation last week, so Michael is going to have to push her around in a wheelchair for their entire holiday. They are leaving in Auckland, because the whole point of the trip is that Laurie wanted to see New Zealand. They were not over-enthusiastic about the food, and Laurie point blank refused to drink the coffee when she realised that decaff means instant! Michael works in International Sales for FedEx and Laurie is his third wife – he has children by both the previous ones. Sounds like a good reason to leave the country as often as possible! His employers pay for his internet when he is away, so they can keep in touch with him. This makes me VERY jealous indeed!

Paula and Dale – American, also Californians, I think, and also from the LA area. They live in Australia, on a 39-foot yacht. They had to buy some dress shirts for Dale to come on this cruise, because they don’t have enough storage for things they don’t need regularly. Mum and Dad talked to them, mostly. I’ll try and learn more tomorrow.

Michael. Travelling alone. From the UK. I don’t think I’ve established where he is from or what he does yet, but he is certainly very nice.

My sunburn is very sore.

UPDATE: Our luck may have broken. We have pootled around South America under what seemed like our own, personal high – low pressure, sunshine, calm seas. Wherever we went, people said it was the first decent weather they had had in days/weeks/months. We got sunburn in the Falkland Islands, a place renowned for being none too hospitable, weather-wise. We went round Cape Horn three times, because it was so calm, we could. Well, we got blasé and a jolly good slap in the face is now being duly administered. The Pacific was not called the Pacific because of her peaceable nature (despite what the psycho port talk lady might say). Quite the opposite. In fact, she was given the name, in the somewhat superstitious and clearly very over-optimistic hope that it would encourage her to calm the hell down, in order to live up to the name. She hasn’t. We left Valparaiso during first sitting dinner, so we got our dinner in the calm of the bay. I don’t know how well second sitting ate.  Since we left Valparaiso and headed west, it has been getting steadily bumpier. Suffice to say, I am writing this at 4am local time.  It’s bumpy now. very bumpy.

Sea Day – 6^th February

Weather is now 16 in the shade. Might take my cossie out today and see if the pool is back in use (it has been closed for maintenance).

12 lengths, once the roof opened. First, we had to ensure an hour of angle-grinding and hammering as they did something to the roof mechanism. You don’t realise quite what an echo chamber it is until you are sat enduring that! Ended up having to take two Paracetamol, because my head was pounding.

Once we entered the South Pacific during dinner yesterday, we have really pegged it north overnight, covering over 400 miles – we usually average between 300 and 350, so the Captain must really want us to feel warmer! (If we ask him, he’ll probably gloss over the following wind that is helpfully shoving us ever northwards) So this will count as a success. It is now 17 in the shade and probably well over 20 in the sun, the roof is open, the sky is a cloudless blue and someone thinks they saw a dolphin. You don’t get passengers any happier than that. Throw in a penguin memorabilia sale in the shops, and the mood is positively cheery.

Update: I may have been glutened at dinner. I had breaded fish, which was supposed to be in gluten-free breadcrumbs. Since our initial issues, they have so far never failed to protect me, and serve me ‘safe’ food, but right now, I feel REALLY ill. I’m hot, to the point of sweating – it is literally trickling down my face and back, my stomach hurts, a LOT, and my dress got so tight I was worried I would have to be cut out of it. It was fairly snug when I put it on, but I was really frightened I wouldn’t be able to get it off. I did get out of it in the end, but I think my stomach is still swelling, and if we’re short on motive power, I have an endless supply of burps available to push us along. None of these are good signs. All at once bodes even worse. Don’t think I’ll be straying from my cabin again any time soon.

The head waiter, Shelton, rang my cabin at 8.45, to see if I was okay, which was very sweet of him. I told him it was probably cross-contamination, rather than a full-on glutening, as although I still feel ill, I haven’t deteriorated the way I expected I would, so maybe the worst is over.

Sea Day – 2 of 2

Sunburn. It’s scorching out there.  18 in the shade – high twenties in the direct sunlight. There was a slight breeze, which was surprisingly chilly, but the warmth was definitely winning. Did 20 lengths today – less current. I also got distracted chatting to a lady about glaciers we have seen, which meant I got more done before I noticed my arms aching.

My elbows are a mess. Not only are they being abused by frequent reading/leaning on stuff, but they are also used for pushing lift buttons, so they’re taking a fair amount of abuse. Not somewhere I normally focus on moisturising, but I may make a little more effort for a while.

Gosh there are a lot of Aussies on this ship, all of a sudden. And apparently, more get on tomorrow. It’s the end of the second sector, so we lose 1000 and gain 900, allegedly, mostly Aussies. Spiffing. Also means we had to say goodbye to Chris, Fran and Abi. Much kissing and promising to stay in touch. I’m really sad about losing them. Just when I was starting to like them! Early start tomorrow. Port Day. Valparaiso. Here endeth the second sector.

Sea Day – Amalia Glacier

Well, at 4.30pm approximately. Until then, it’s just more lovely scenery, Sudoku and lunch.

And random announcements from the Bridge, such as the fact that, near where we are passing by now, there is a settlement of around 1500 Welsh-speakers, in three towns. The Welsh came over to help settle this area, at the request of the Chilean government. Well, there you go then. Apparently, their Welsh is still intelligible by those from Wales ‘proper’, unlike Brazilian Portuguese, which is utterly incomprehensible to Portuguese people from Portugal. I have witnessed this myself. When I lived in Caen, I had a Brazilian boy and a Portuguese girl in my class, and their common languages were English and French. They couldn’t understand each other when they tried in Portuguese. So huzzah for the Chilean Welsh people (or are they Welsh Chileans?).

After dinner, we had our photo taken in front of the glacier, out on the open deck at the back of Deck 9, at 8pm at night, in sunshine so bright we were squinting (sunset is 9.30pm-ish around here), standing in our shirt sleeves, as we did in Alaska. Allegedly, the Chilean pilots have said this is the best weather they have ever done this tour in for over ten years. I don’t believe a word of it. This is glacier weather. We always have beautiful weather when we visit glaciers. It’s something about the conditions necessary to make the darn things – it can’t be too wet, or they will flow too smoothly and quickly to become glaciers, and the snow will just rinse away. So the air here is always dry and clear. One of us does not understand how glaciers work, and I’m starting to think it’s not me that’s getting it wrong. Glaciers form when the snow moves too slowly and so it stays at cold altitudes long enough to accumulate. If it’s wet, it won’t stick. Stands to reason. It’s hardly rocket science. I’m not an expert in fluid dynamics, but I think even I get this.

Sea Day – Pio X Glacier

Although for some reason, the Bridge crew and some of the staff have decided it was named after Pope Pius the Eleventh, not Pope Pius the Tenth. Seriously, how hard are Roman numerals, really?

This glacier is MUCH bigger than the Amalia of yesterday. Proper sized. And, allegedly, the only glacier in the world that is growing, rather than retreating. Well, we are in the world’s second biggest non-polar ice field, so I suppose we shouldn’t be surprised.

The weather is so glorious today, it’s actually quite warm out in the sun. Very pleasant indeed. ‘Officially’, the outside air temperature is 11 degrees in the shade, but I reckon you can add maybe five or six more out in the sun. So, like I say, very pleasant indeed.

We have been in very calm channels while visiting these glaciers, so it has been possible to have lovely long soaks in the shower without fear of the ground moving from under you.  We should enter the Pacific at just about dinner time. Could get bumpy.

Happy Friday, everyone. Have a nice weekend.

P.S. Noticed something on the credits of a film the other day. What the blazes is a Biscuit Rig?!