Home again, home again, jiggety jig. The last night was superb. Dinner was lovely and we said our goodbyes. We went to the theatre to hear Anton sing before he leaves P&O to start his recording contract. He was brilliant.

Then down the other end for Eighties Hour followed by a Pub Night. Silly games, tv theme quiz and so on. Our team won by a landslide, largely thanks to us getting 9 out of 10 on the tv themes. Well, can YOU sing the theme to The Price is Right?! No, exactly. Nine out of ten.

Unfortunately, the prize was a bottle of wine. Flo doesn’t drink, Yvonne had had plenty by then, i can’t drink wine, because it makes me ill, and Donna went to bed. Which just left poor Welsh Sue from Swansea to drink the whole blinking bottle. To her credit it, she managed it, but she could barely stand by the end! We danced til about 2, which was fine, because the clocks go back tonight, so we all get an extra hour in bed. Yay!

Sadly, Saturday is Chucking Off day. They start shouting at you in the cabins at 8am and at 9, my stewardess actually threw me out so she could turn my cabin around. Mum and Dad booked a taxi and dropped me at the station. Train into Waterloo, tube to parents’ house. Easy peasy, no? No. Not during the Olympics. It was like rush hour in a heatwave the whole way. Standing room only all over the place. Hard work. Then the drive home, petrol fillup, tesco shop (empty fridge syndrome) and then home.

It’s the silence that’s weird. Not hearing the constant hum of the aircon. I think i’ve almost stopped swaying, though, which is nice. So here endeth the Norway cruise. I hope you’ve enjoyed the blog. If you have any questions, let me know. Til the next time.

A fairly leisurely start. Woken at about 7am when the ship slowed down and I had to put my wristbands on. Then got up properly about 9.  We were booked on a boat trip, which always feels like an odd thing to do when on a cruise – get off a ship, get on a boat.  But this was a lovely, relaxing trip across Lake Olden, just lying on the deck in the sun admiring the scenery, which is breathtaking, and getting to know fellow passengers (one of whom has no recollection of having danced with me the night before last!). Our guide was a bit old and doddery but pleasant enough and the coach trip back was uneventful but with a couple of rather lovely photo stops.

I got off in town, having been told it was 1km to walk back to the ship. Browsed the shops, ate in the only eatery in town, which was a pub up a rather vertiginous staircase, and then back to the ship for the regulation nap.  That was NOT a 1km walk. I was shattered and woke up with screaming cramp. Had to get dad to go and buy some tonic water and bring it to me, because I was in too much agony to move. I had cramp up the FRONT of my calf. You try stretching that. 

 At dinner, there were balloons on the table and Tony had found some on his door in the morning too.  He also got a card from the Captain, as well as the one from us.  Dinner was roast lamb, which was very nice.  After dinner, we went to the show, which was songs from musicals.  Again, there was a slideshow before it started, and again there were some dreadful spelling mistakes.  It really is inexcusable.

Then rounded off the evening with a disco called “Dancing Through the Decades”, which is the same as the usual disco but in a different room and with the bad band for some of it and all the Ents Officers dressed in silly outfits.  It transpires that DJ James rather fancies Yvonne, who sadly could not be less interested.  Very funny to watch, though.  It also turns out that Tony and Sandra do a mean jive. Who knew?! Pumpkin time at midnight. Fourth port day in a row tomorrow.  Urgh.

No tenders. Told to be on the quayside for 9.40 to catch a train we thought was at 10.15. It turned out it WAS at 10.15. And it was raining. Nowhere to sit and nowhere to shelter. We got SOAKED. Very unkind, P&O, very unkind, and totally unnecessary.

The train, when it came, was very luxurious and clean and we had a wonderful trip through the mountains, up to Bjorli (pronounced like the British motor museum – Bewli), which is Norway’s southernmost ski resort with six months of snow (!). Took loads of photos of amazing scenery.

Andalsnes is slightly messy at the moment, because the International Base Jumping Championships arrive next week. Andalsnes has several mountains just outside town with sheer granite drops of several hundred metres – it breaks in a similar way to slate – so it is the base jumping capital of the world, apparently. It is spectacular stuff, but as there are no motor vehicles allowed in the national park, apparently, they have to climb the mountain before they can throw themselves off of it!

Long queues for the surprisingly pleasant two toilets at the station. A lady asked to buy one of my t-shirts, so I gave her my email address. I was wearing the one that reads: “I might look like I’m doing nothing, but at the cellular level, I’m really quite busy” and she wants one. Clearly a lady with much taste, oh yes. Then a coach back down to town, with several photo/shopping stops, and a commentary conducive to dozing. A really wonderful trip.

We then walked the few hundred yards into town and ate a rather odd restaurant in a marquee on the quayside. I had a homemade burger, which had pieces of yellow and red pepper mixed in, which made it quite sweet and very tasty indeed. I’m not sure the sweetcorn on top was such a good idea, logistically at least. Mum and Dad ordered a small pizza to share. A SMALL one.

We then wandered around the two streets of shops, where I bought a top and some more Norwegian Kitkats. Then we’d run out of shops and stuff to do, so we went back to the ship and I napped til dinner. Dinner was delicious. I had fried loin of haddock in panko breadcrumbs, which I had never heard of, but Sandra said it’s the best bit and has no bones, which was all the recommendation I needed. Turns out she was right, it was superb. Mum’s trout came with almonds sprinkled on, which, bearing in mind she is listed in the kitchen and at the waiters station as having a nut allergy, shows that the lack of attention to detail is spreading, sadly.

After dinner, Yvonne and I went to watch the ballroom dancers and the band with the bad singers until it was time to go to the show, a Queen tribute show, which is so popular they have to do three performances, rather than the usual two. Front row seats. Had a brill time. The Headliners are superb. Must learn the name of the lead girl, as she is OUTSTANDING. Then disco til 2, midnight snack (crackers and butter) in the Al Fresco restaurant and then blog and bed. ANOTHER port day tomorrow. Crumbs.

29 July 2012

Got up and went back to bed. Three times. Ain’t it grand to be on holiday? Finally decided I should surface about 11, mainly because the stewardess was clearly so desperate to do my room, she was trying to ram her way in through the wall from next door. Watched the telly enough to know about the hoo-ha about empty seats at the Olympics. Unsurprising incompetency. At least Mitt Romney has sodded off to insult Israel instead of us for a bit, which is nice.

Today I met a mental. Her name is Yvonne and she is on with her grandmother, Flo. They are both delightful company – funny, irreverent and a little bit silly. Okay, a lot silly. We sunbathed a bit together and then I went off to find the parents for lunch. Lunch was pitiful. Had rice. Followed it with a treacle sponge and jelly, so I’m not going to waste away, but still, pretty dire, even for the Oriana Conservatory. Tried to go back and attempt a salad, but the queue was both out the door and somewhat belligerent, so I left it.

After lunch, went back to the sunbathing with Yvonne and Flo, which went well for almost a full five minutes before it started to spit with rain. Not sure where from, because the clouds were white and fluffy and the sky was blue, but rain it did. Briefly. So we legged it indoors and waited for that particular cloud to sod off, before we went back out and tried again. In the newly-introduced Wind. To be fair, it wasn’t actually THAT windy, but Yvonne had a bit of a moan anyway. She got precisely no sympathy, particularly as, in between the moaning, she was mocking all those who were covering up. Added to which, she already has a tan line where her shorts end when she bends over, so, frankly, TOUGH. (and yes, she is proof-reading this over my shoulder).

Yvonne thought the man on the sunlounger next to her had pulled his trousers down and put them round his ankles and was sitting there in his undercrackers. I glimpsed as long as I dared and then decided she was wrong (thankfully!) and that he had shorts on and had put a tshirt over his legs (why?!). Had a good long giggle, nonetheless.

We met Vijay, who is, according to his badge, a Pool Assist. Now, I have no idea whatever as to what a Pool Assist is. I’m guessing it’s some sort of AssistANT, but that’s not what his badge would have us believe. He basically flirted with us and stood in my sun for a good 20 minutes, during which time he neither pooled nor assisted in any way whatsoever. His role, apparently is to check the water in the pool for dangerous contents and tidy up the sunloungers. Taxing. He is very funny and not a little unimpressed with Yvonne’s Liverpool origins. He seems a bit pro-royals and certainly likes the idea of Cambridge. He’s obviously never tried to sit down there*. There is a bar across the Crystal Pool, although no one, even Vijay, knows why. Neither can he get it removed. In fact, he thinks it’s a permanent fitting. I had to explain to him that it is usually only put across in rough weather or when the pool is closed, to stop people swimming (it doesn’t work, they just do widths instead of lengths!), but he seemed unconvinced. He suggested I contact Reception to get it removed. And we all know how well that will go.

We spotted a Matching Couple. His and hers black trousers and red tops (although his was red and black stripey, so Yvonne called him Dennis the Menace). They walked past us several times, giving us a fit of the giggles each time (and at this point, we were still entirely sober), and we are now desperately waiting to see what they will appear in tomorrow. Although tomorrow is a Port Day (Bergen?), so we may have to wait several days to have our questions answered. Apparently tomorrow I am supposed to be dressed and in my right mind by 10am. Okay…

Minor quibble #4: the MUZAK. AGAIN. It was bad on the Arcadia, as you may recall, due to the fair bit of ranting on the topic. But here on the Oriana, they get it equally wrong. In the Conservatory, they were blasting out Eighties hits just that bit too loud for polite conversation with the person more than one seat away. Here in Tiffanys, they had a blissful silence, but now, here comes the miscellaneous boyband crap. Again.

Parted company to get ready for dinner – Formal. Wore the monsoon maxi dress, which was complimented. The food was meh. Not spectacular but not inedible. Dessert was Sachertorte, which was very yummy indeed. Then Yvonne and I went to Harlequins to watch the ballroom dancers and slag off their outfits. Which wasn’t hard. Some of them were hideous and at least two had help dressing from people who were clearly colourblind. Kept us entertained until the decent music kicked in at midnight. Danced a lot and went to bed at 2am. Which, unfortunately, due to the vagaries of international travel, was 3am. So only 5 or so hours sleep before it’s time to get up again!

Day 1

Well, here we are. Back on the Oriana.

The coach park was very busy this morning. With coaches going to all sorts of destinations.

Faultless journey down on the coach with the Cleanest, Best Ventilated, but without doubt the Smallest Toilet on Earth. By all means drop your trousers, but don’t imagine you have any room to bend over far enough to pick them up again.  No, really.  You may not have even noticed that you bend forward when you pick up your trousers, but trust me, you do.  Watch your head.  Furthermore, when you’re upright, whatever you do, don’t wobble, because the handbag hook on the back of the door is almost EXACTLY level with your right eye and only inches away.  You carry a spare, but it would be pretty unpleasant, nonetheless.  And that strange grit for soap that I had almost forgotten existed.  When was the last time you saw that?!  Anyway, the suspension was so soft, I slept most of the way, which is fine by me, because it’s a pretty boring drive – around the M25 to the M27 and then straight down to Southampton.  It takes a little under two hours.  So by the time I’ve eaten my lunch, some junk food (a giant double lolly and a sherbet dibdab, well, I am on holiday), used the aforementioned Minifacilities and had a nap, we’re there.

Oddly effusive welcome back on board – well, some of the staff only saw us three weeks ago, and their memories aren’t as shot as ours! Surprised how far forward my cabin is. Not like me to pick one in the front quarter, and bearing in mind that three weeks ago, I was in one of the sternmost cabins possible, this could be quite a different experience. No special single cabin this time. Paying the single person supplement all week, this time.  Boo. Need to go to reception and check how much onboard credit I have. It should be about fifty quid, but it’s always good to check these things. It varies from cruise to cruise and, particularly now that the parents and I are on different loyalty tiers, I really did ought to pay more attention to this stuff!  (Answer: £50, which I’ve already spent on internet time!)

Noticeably, I appear to be directly above the theatre. I can tell that they are not only currently rehearsing, I can tell you what songs they are rehearsing and what instruments they are using and that’s all over the top of the television which I currently have tuned to Click on BBC World News.  It’s doable, but suffice to say that I think my earplugs may have a challenge to deal with not just the sound, but also the vibrations coming through the floor. So no early nights when there’s a show on, on this cruise.  Not a big deal, I’m hardly renowned for my ‘early to bed early to rise’ tendencies, but it would be nice to have a choice! After all, I do rather enjoy a good nap now and then.  Will monitor this situation and see how it goes.

I may have ranted about this previously, but the primary problem with P&O in recent years has been a lack of attention to detail.  Just to prove that things have not improved in the slightest, I present you herewith with the first, rather glaring, example that I spotted immediately on entering the cabin for the first time.  Minor quibble of this cruise #1 herewith. Let’s see how long this list gets.

This is the equivalent of the hotel directory, found in every cabin, listing room services and phone numbers.  The contents are correct enough, but still…

Dinner was pleasant enough. Our table mates are Tony and Sandra. Both retired. It’s his 65^th birthday on Wednesday, although he is reluctant to retire. Must remember to buy him a card tomorrow. Or remind the parents to do it.  Had salmon for dinner. Surprisingly high bone content, but nothing’s perfect. I don’t think I swallowed any, so no harm done.  Tomorrow is the first formal night, so the menu is ghastly.  Minor quibble #2: How do we explain to P&O that there is such a thing as trying too hard?

Currently got the Can-Can wafting up through the floor. Second show has just started.   I can see this listening through the floor process saving me a lot of time and effort, whilst still providing me with all the entertainment I need. 

After dinner, I went to the cinema to see Mission Impossible: Ghost Protocol, which I think brings me up to date with that particular franchise.  I think… There were some aspects of this film I really liked. The sandstorm chase was cool, and I also enjoyed the malfunctioning kit.  It has bothered me for some time that their electronics never seemed to fail on them, which seemed catastrophically unrealistic in a real world dominated by Windows 7 and, Heaven help us, 8.  This rectified that.  It was highly enjoyable, although perhaps a little high stress-wise for a holiday movie.  That is to say, to translate for my Stateside chums, a movie to watch on holiday, not a movie about snow and elves.  I wasn’t planning to get that stressed out and there was one moment where I genuinely covered my eyes, which is unusual for me.  Very high on adrenalin.  Not suitable for those with dodgy cortisol readings.

The floor is currently singing ‘Bless your beautiful hide’ and whooping a lot, so I think we’re at the barn dance bit of the show.

Minor detail quibble of the day #3: menu item. No spelling mistakes spotted so far, but… One item is a sirloin steak with straw potatoes and watercress.  There is an asterisk next to this item. Referring to the bottom of the menu reveals that an asterisk is a warning to alert passengers that items of game may contain pieces of shot.  Which part of the cow, potato and watercress was shot, exactly?  I like to consider myself to be quite an imaginative soul, but I can’t see the thrill in hunting potatoes or watercress – they seem quite sedentary, as vegetables go.  Neither, frankly, do I think that cows would make particularly good quarry.  All I know of cows is that they seem to have three settings: lying, standing and stampeding, none of which seems suitable for a hunt scenario. So how has any of this been shot at exactly? If I had to hazard a guess, I would say that the warning should be the one about ‘we’ll cook it to your order, but the UK Government is now so terrified of risk that it says that we have to tell you that undercooked meat is dangerous and can kill you and damage small puppies’ or whatever it’s supposed to read.  But I’m just guessing.

The Bolero?! With a cha-cha-cha backing?! It sounds oddly like ‘If I was a rich man’ in places.  Very odd.

It’s so nice to be in a virtually Olympics-free environment.  No one has mentioned the Olympics to me since I boarded the coach (the man in WHSmith was yawning because he’d stayed up til the end).  The only problem is that, as the BBC are utterly OBSESSED, it’s hard to escape when searching for news on the tellybox.  You have to plough through a good eight minutes of a news bulletin before they mention anything important, like Syria, for example.

I think I shall call it quits, log off and listen to the floor for a bit. Goodnight.

DISCLAIMER: Everyone is entitled to their opinion on any topic. These are mine. I do not expect you to agree with all of them. Neither do I expect to be taken to task for expressing them. If you don’t agree, fine. But it’s not your blog, is it? It’s mine, so it’s my opinions you’re going to get. 😉 If you’re wondering why I feel the need to stress this at this point, on the 125th posting on this blog (happy anniversary, me), it may become clear as you read on, but, as a starting point, I don’t much like Amsterdam. 😉

Woke at 10, which seems quite civilised. I am on holiday, doncha know? *insert vociferous head nodding here*.

Got up at 11. Well, no rush. Am currently reading ‘Thinking, Fast and Slow’ by Daniel Kahneman. Review to follow.

Well, they’ve found the Higgs Boson. Huzzah. Watched the news people trying to get all excited about something even I don’t understand, and I’ve done a bit of astronomy and quantum physics and stuff. Sort of. For those looking at me blankly, the theory is that no particle has mass unless the Higgs gives it mass. Don’t ask me how, but that’s my impression of what it is. So if an atom has no mass, it has no pull to drag it towards or bind it to any other atoms, which means no sticking together to form bigger stuff which means no stuff at all. No planets, no people, no stars, no McDonalds, nothing. So the Higgs is really rather important. Assuming all the other assumptions are correct of course… ahem… Anyway, they’ve found it, which is the important bit and now they can study it and the Europeans beat the Americans and everyone is mighty relieved that we didn’t destroy the archaeology of three entire countries for nothing. So phew. And someone at the BBC deserves a prize for the headline caption: Mass Higgsteria. No, really, take a bow, that’s beautiful.

Went up onto deck in shorts and t-shirt. Warm and sunny. Lovely. Read for a bit and then eventually located parents for lunch. Oddly, it seemed like the ship stopped moving just when I left my cabin. Turns out we were in a lock. Who knew? During lunch, the captain tannoyed us to explain not to get too excited, it would take us another two hours to get through the canal to Amsterdam and moor up and stuff, so the 3pm ETA remains intact. Okey dokey. Back down to cabin for proposed nap which turned into yelling at HardTalk on the telly. Niall Whathisname, who clearly knows not one jot about either banking or human nature, saying there is too MUCH regulation in the banking sector but refusing to explain how he thinks it should be done/would be done if he ruled the world. Rather a waste of camera time, all in all, except we all got to see what an ignorant, pompous, opinionated yet ill-informed divot he is. Which was nice.

At 3pm, the Captain tannoyed time to go ashore and everyone did. At once. Eighteen hundred people. One gangplank (Netherlands immigration insisted, allegedly).

They then demanded passports, which meant several of us were sent back. Now, firstly, this is Europe, so strictly speaking I don’t have to show anything at all, that’s the whole POINT of Europe, and secondly, a photographic driving licence is valid Government-issued ID and should be acceptable. Oh no, not this bitch. Lots of people gathered around the ship’s head of security to yell at him, but it wasn’t his fault, so I just went off again and snapped at the immigration bitch, whose fault it actually was. She just said “Rules are rules”. Pay attention, this is important. This is not the last such behaviour we will encounter along these lines. Officious seems to be a much-admired personality trait in Amsterdam.

Taxi waiting outside. Nice touch, missing in many ports. Although a shuttle bus would have been nice, P&O. Ahem. Went to Rijksmuseum – dad had booked tickets on the internet last week. Strolled in, strolled around, nowhere to sit for the first few rooms – naughty. Had a sit, lost mum and dad. Strolled at own speed through The Night Watch (definitely not allowed to sit in here, got to keep the crowd moving!) and into the shop, where I did my Thing. Oh yes. Can’t beat a museum shop. Even in a country you hate and have no intention of ever returning to. Oh, didn’t I mention this? Right, short digression time.

Last time I was in Amsterdam, which was my first ever visit, I was dipped. I, a Londoner, born and bred, who have lived in a crime-filled city all my days, never so much as a glare from the criminal underclasses, am in Amsterdam for less than 24 hours before someone helps themselves to my wallet. So the first time in my life I ever set foot in a police station, it’s a Dutch one. Next day, queuing for the Anne Frank House, get a phone call on my mobile from a frantic parent. He has just had a phone call from a random stranger in Amsterdam to say he has found the contents of my wallet by the side of a canal. Have I thrown myself in? Erm, no. So got the stuff back (not the cash, obviously), but the cards were already cancelled and the hatred of the city was already firmly in place.

So there’s the background. Now, add in the officious immigration bitch, who has just blown it completely for Amsterdam – you only ever get two chances from me, sorry. I am in a Bad Mood. I’m hot because I changed out of my shorts into long jeans only to find it was over 80 in the shade ashore and now I’m in a museum with virtually no seating. I am not the cheeriest of souls right now, shopping notwithstanding.

So, anyway, the Rijksmuseum e-ticket says if you eat or drink at the Cobra cafe, you get a discount if you show your e-ticket. Very nice. So out we go. We hand back the chair we borrowed for mum and the man says, ‘nip out the side gate and the cafe is round on the left’. So out the door we go. There is another security man at the gate, which is open. We try to walk out of it. He stops us and says we have to walk 100 yards to the right, go out the main gate and walk back 100 yards along the pavement before we can go left. We can’t go through this gate, they’re doing deliveries. Go on, guess how I reacted. Bearing in mind that other people are blithely walking through this gate while he is gesticulating at us. I point out, surprisingly calmly, for me, that my mother walks with a stick and I will be going through him before I am making her walk the long way round. He folds immediately and waves us through.

Now, there is a lesson here, which will stand us in good stead for the rest of the day. Everyone in Amsterdam is unnecessarily officious. But if you argue, they always fold immediately and without further ado. Take note, this may come in handy if you ever come here.

So we go to the cafe. It is next to a little pond and I wish I still had my shorts on because everyone is paddling due to the very intense heat. We sit and order two cokes and a lemonade. Well, I summarise. We get ignored for about a quarter of an hour, then told we can’t sit there and THEN we order two diet cokes and a lemonade. They have a private party coming. We can drink our drinks outside but not inside. Despite the fact that there are at least six tables currently occupied by a Japanese coach party, who I am pretty sure are not the intended party people either. More officious for the sake of it. So we move outside, drink our drinks and leave as hastily as possible. Why would we want to give our money to people who so blatantly don’t want it?!

We grab a cab back to Dam Square and Dad is feeling nostalgic so we pop into the Hotel Krasnopolsky for a cup of tea and to use their undoubtedly lovely loos. Dad stayed here about 50 years ago with his mum and his brother. So we order drinks, served by a lovely man, and we notice that the food would suit us dinner-wise. It is 6pm. Would you mind if we wasted some time and then ate here? Of course not, they’d be delighted. The tea was not to mum’s liking, so she used her own teabag and sweetener – using only the hot water and a drop of milk provided by the nice man. Are you taking notes? Good. There is a quiz at the end. We have a superb meal, of several courses, which costs about the same as a snack at the De Vere but leaves us fit to bust. For the fact fans, we had one tomato soup, one salade niçoise, one vegetable lasagne and one Waygu burger, several soft drinks and one chocolate mousse. I’ll leave you to work out who ate what. When the bill came, they had charged mum for tea, despite the water and milk thing. When we pointed this out, the nice man backed down but not nearly as immediately or as graciously as he could have done. Rules is rules, remember? But if a glass of water is free, why isn’t a cup of hot water?

So, we’ve had the immigration lady, the museum gate man, the cafe that would only serve us if we sat in certain seats and now tea that you have to pay for even if you use your own teabag. Like I said, we had a nice day, but the officiousness and the sheer bloody-mindedness is now starting to wear somewhat thin. So 10pm, back to the ship.

Now, I am aware that, hating Amsterdam with a firey passion already, as I do, I may be a little biased, hence the disclaimer at the outset, but even Dad agreed that the attitude was started to wear on him somewhat too. And we all know how lovely and patient and put up with anything he is.

So tomorrow, is Amsterdam’s Very Last Chance. We are going off in the morning to shop at C&A. There is a 60% sale on, we’ve checked. And I really don’t care who we have to hurt to do so. I am on a mission – particularly as the Calais branch has left me empty-handed twice this year – and I will not be putting up with any bloody-minded officiousness from anybody, whoever they may think they are.

Watch this space. This could get messy.

I’m going to call myself that from now on. Having one piece published is nice, but nothing special. But two, now that’s starting to look like a pattern of behaviour. 

Here it is. Enjoy.

Please click here. (This will open in a new window)

On the basis that forewarned is forearmed, the next cruises will be on 2 July 2012 and 28 July 2012. I hope you’ll read and enjoy those blogposts too.

The WordPress.com stats helper monkeys prepared a 2011 annual report for this blog, which was very nice of them.

If you like whizzy graphics, click here to see the complete report.

If you like plain text, simple facts kind of layout, see below. Enjoy.

WordPress.com presents cruisetheoceanswithemma
2011 in blogging

Happy New Year from WordPress.com!

To kick off the new year, we’d like to share with you data on your blog’s activity in 2011. You may start scrolling!
Crunchy numbers

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 4,000 times in 2011. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 3 trips to carry that many people.

In 2011, there were 75 new posts, growing the total archive of this blog to 120 posts. There were 120 pictures uploaded, taking up a total of 229mb. That’s about 2 pictures per week.

The busiest day of the year was June 28th with 141 views. The most popular post that day was About.

How did they find you?

The top referring sites in 2011 were:

facebook.com
telegraph.co.uk
mail.yahoo.com
mail.airfox.net
gormano.blogspot.com

Some visitors came searching, mostly for cruisetheoceanswithemma, http://www.cruisetheoceanswithemma, and cruisetheoceanswithemma.com.

Where did they come from?

Most visitors came from Australia. The United Kingdom & the United States were not far behind.

Who were they?

Your most commented on post in 2011 was J103 Arcadia to Alaska – The First Bit

These were your 5 most active commenters:

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3 Si 4 comments
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Perhaps you could follow their blog or send them a thank you note?

Attractions in 2011

These are the posts that got the most views in 2011.

1 J103 Arcadia to Alaska – The First Bit April 2011
2 Punch ups and fires June 2011
3 The Fire – the follow-up (aka Yet Another Sea Day) June 2011
4 Sea Day 1 of 5? 6? Who knows? May 2011
5 Sea Day Bits and Pieces June 2011

This blog will continue, I hope (!), but you can contact me any time. The next cruise planned is in July 2012, for the 175th anniversary of P&O cruises, which will be both a shindig and a half and a fascinating insight into the monumental logistics of running a cruise line. Bringing all seven ships in the fleet to Southampton to toot their whistles (not horns, people, whistles) will be marvellous, but offloading 15,000 people and onloading 15,000 people possibly less so. Should be a laugh, whatever happens. Watch this space and thank you for sticking with me into 2012. Happy New Year.

My dad wrote to several newspapers, asking them to do pieces warning their readers as to what they might expect if they go to the USA these days, immigration-wise. Forewarned is forearmed, after all.

He has had two responses so far. One from the wonderful Simon Calder (my idol!), travel expert extraordinaire, and also someone from the Telegraph. It seems that US immigration is currently a hot topic. Hardly surprising, considering how it is deteriorating. Surely there comes a point where the harassment handed out to incoming visitors becomes not just unbearable but unacceptable and untenable?

I may have forgotten to tell you that when the Head of Security took four crew and two passengers to the airport in Boston (one of which was his wife), it took over an hour to get the six of them through immigration. That’s TEN MINUTES EACH.

Even Dave Gorman has had problems. He went to LA recently for a tv recording. He travelled by plane, which is clearly getting to be just as bad as cruising as a means of arrival. His experiences can be found at http://gormano.blogspot.com/. The piece is dated 13 July 2011 and is entitled London – Los Angeles – Maidenhead – New Greenham (New preview gigs). He was stuck for five hours.

What on Earth is the matter with America? Have they somehow concluded that, since September 11th, it’s best just to not to let anyone in at all?! Or make it so unappealing that people will stop bothering? I don’t think they’re going to fix their economy if they persist in dissuading absolutely all tourism.

We’ll see how it goes, I suppose. If anyone spots a news article in a paper, magazine or online on this topic, please do let me know.