I am now so confused, it has ceased to be funny. I have no idea which way is up. Mum and Dad are barely awake either. It’s ludicrous. This many time changes in this few days is not healthy.  if you think it’s tricky doing a whole bunch at once on a flight, that’s nothing compared to this Chinese water torture drip, drip, drip. We have gone from about eight hours ahead in Manila, to 11 hours behind now.  That’s nineteen hours in three weeks. That ain’t healthy.

Another hour forwards, whatever that means. I think it means 4am for you is 5pm for us. Dunno. Beyond caring, frankly.

At dinner, got guacamole with tortilla chips this time, although, sadly, the chips were rather stale/ soft. Still, progress is progress.

Then cold roast beef and salad. Which would have been fine, if they hadn’t supplied that disgusting excuse for dressing that contained only mustard and oil. I really have to learn to taste the dressing before I pour it on, and ruin a perfectly good plate of food. *sigh*

UPDATE: 20:50.  9pm on the 4th for me appears to be 8am on the 5th for you. Probably…

Got very cross today. I am sick and tired of the attitude of my cabin steward. He never replaces the forms in my cabin folder, so I never have what I need when I need it. So I use what I have available, and then he refuses to comply with the request, coming back 12 hours later with the correct form and saying he cannot comply with my request until I complete the correct form. The last time he did this, my laundry was delayed by an entire day due to his recalcitrance. If it was that important, he could have copied the information onto the correct form – all the information was available to him on the ‘wrong’ form, but instead he just dumped the whole lot back in my cabin until I came back in the evening and filled in the correct form. Which annoyed me no end. I am not his skivvy.

Now he has done it for a second time. This time, it was a request for bottled water. He left me no water forms and no generic bar chits either, so I wrote it on the back of an envelope. That was all I had available. Yesterday. Of course, I have failed to clarify that he knocks off an hour early every time the clocks go forward, so he isn’t around to do my cabin until the evening. Apparently, passengers have to choose between a lie-in and a cleaning service. Knowing this, I figured he wouldn’t get the request until 6pm. So today I patiently waited for my water – despite the fact it should have come last night after dinner. It still has not come – 36 hours after I wrote out the request.

When I asked a room service delivery guy who was nearby, he said that there was no request for water outstanding. So, basically, my steward just CHUCKED IT IN THE BIN AND IGNORED IT. My steward came by, when the room service guy found him, and we had a stand-up row. He said that if I wanted the correct form, I should ask him. I told him that I should not have to find him and ask his permission every time I want a bloody piece of paper. I sent him away with a flea in his ear, and he came back quite quickly with my water. I requested to see the Deck Supervisor, but he hasn’t come yet. I am getting heartily sick of this. I am not putting up with this any longer. Once was a misunderstanding. Twice is a pattern of behaviour. I don’t get cabin fever as a rule, but the end of my tether has now been well and truly reached. This ends now.

UPDATE 21:25: Well, I’ll give him his due. Boy, can the Deck Supervisor apologise! Very fulsome. He will deal with it. He had no idea. He will speak to my steward. Etc. etc. Maybe now things will improve. I dunno. We will have to wait and see.

The mineral water that (eventually) arrived in my cabin is now made in Hong Kong. Although, interestingly, the sparkling water served around the ship is still Tarka from Devon. We obviously get through a LOT more still!

By the way, I noticed on re-reading some previously-published posts, that some sort of automatic numbering has been applied in places, without my knowledge or consent (or noticing), and all my time entries at the start of paragraphs are coming through as manifest gibberish. I will go back and amend them so they make more sense, when I can. In the meantime, humour me. They are rarely less than half an hour apart!

Clocks forward at noon. We are now at UK -11, I think. It doesn’t help that the onboard newspaper refers to UTC, which means nothing to me – is that GMT or BST?! Oh my brain. The Britain Today summary newspaper (provided by The Daily Fail, I believe) is out, dated 4^th April. My head is really starting to hurt now. And as to how out of date the news in it might be, I have no clue. Okay, don’t panic. Breathe. If it’s 10pm here, it’s 10am in the UK.  So it’s still the 3^rd April for me, but it’s already the 4^th for you. Sudden desire to lay down and place a duvet over my head. With added whimpering. Need chocolate. And alcohol. Lots of both. No ice. In no fit state to risk dilution.

Djokovic: when they start listing what you HAVEN’T won, you’re doing pretty well, mate…

Utterly bizarre dinner. I said to the head waiters a few days ago that, if they could not find me an edible avocado, guacamole and tortilla chips would do. I got guacamole and chips. French fries. Talk about lost in translation… Quite tasty, nonetheless, but a bit odd.

Saturday 2^nd April – Fit the First

Listen very carefully. I shall say this only twice. Today is Saturday 2^nd April. Tomorrow is also Saturday 2^nd April. Sunday 3^rd April is the day after tomorrow. Still with me?

Spent lunchtime trying to explain it to Dad. How we are going from 11 hours ahead right now, to 13 hours behind tomorrow (which the newspaper has described as putting the clocks back 24 hours), and so, will essentially live the entire day again. It means we ‘get back’ the day we lost in February. It also means that events are referred to as taking place on 2^nd April (first) and 2^nd April (second). No way that is going to get confusing, oh no.

Fruit, Quorn stir-fry, Sudoku, siesta.

Did not swim today. Got into the cozzie, but the roof was closed, due to expected rain (which I don’t think ever actually materialised), and it wasn’t really warm enough for the getting out again part, so I skipped it and went for a siesta. Which overran massively and meant Dad had to come down from dinner to wake me. Oops. Although, in my defence, going from sound asleep to sat at the dinner table on a formal night in under eight minutes was probably a personal best…

Spent dinner also trying to explain the time zone thing. It helps a little that the newspaper for tomorrow is headed Happy Groundhog Day (although they didn’t show the film, which seems a missed opportunity)! Bizarrely, the clocks flip at midnight, but then go forward an hour at lunchtime as well, which seems to be pushing things somewhat. But, hey, what do I know? The fact that we have eight days to do this in would suggest to me that it doesn’t all have to be done at once, but maybe they know better. *shrug*

Call me picky, but could the BBC not find any newsreaders that can actually pronounce the word ‘nuclear’ correctly? What with the current issues of the day (the Nuclear Security conference thingy), it’s being said an awful lot, and very rarely correctly. It’s quite irksome.

I don’t know a great deal about round the world yacht racing, but the deaths of two people on the same boat in the same race would raise eyebrows from where I sit. I hope someone is going to take a look at this. I am aware of the risks, which are pretty self-evident, and, of course, long-term followers of this blog will know that we have taken part in search and rescue for someone knocked overboard from a yacht, but that was an educated amateur. These were both professionals – experts, one would hope. How can it be that they aren’t tethered? How can those in charge be so lax that they can kill two members of the same crew? I hope Sir Robin Knox Johnson will take a long, hard look at this bunch. Telling them you want them to complete the race is all very well and good, but is that really fair on the remaining crew, to be left at the mercies of clearly inadequate management, procedures and systems?

Thank you, Panorama, for doing a bit on Zaha Hadid.

Saturday 2^nd April the Second – I think…

Missing: one noon announcement. All very puzzling. I appreciate today is different to any other day, but still… It eventually turned up six minutes late – for “operational reasons”, apparently.

So, here you all are (well, most of you) waking up to a UK Sunday morning (7am), whereas, I’m sat here, approaching Saturday evening and getting ready for dinner (6pm). This is all very complicated. I THINK we are 13 hours behind, but please don’t quote me on that. I don’t actually have a clue anymore.

Lunch was a special one – green salad, asparagus risotto, fruit. Lovely, and the company was also lovely – Pauline and Geoff, who shared some recent space photos from NASA and Tim Peake.

Free drinky poos at the Round the World do. Not much gin in that tonic, but I had two, so that helped. This followed dinner, oddly – drinks events are usually before dinner – which was, itself, pretty shambolic. Every table is served by a team of two waiters, and they do half a dozen tables or so. Our senior waiter, Kevin, is currently bedridden with back pain, so we have had a stand-in helping out. It was chaos. We got the wrong foods, the wrong cutlery, the woman at the next table had a full glass of wine tipped into her lap and they didn’t even change the tablecloth. She had to go and change, but on the plus side, it was red wine onto a dark red skirt, so it may survive. I don’t know what is going on, but today was embarrassing. I expected chaos at lunch, because the waiters don’t know us, and will undoubtedly not have read our pre-orders, but at dinner, we have regulars and they should be on top of things. Not impressed at all. Still no avocados, so I had vichyssoise to start.

We accidentally discovered at lunch that they have salt beef on board! Dad ordered “cold brisket” and salad, and what arrived was DEFINITELY salt beef. So I had that for dinner. It was very salty indeed, but I have had such bad cramp for the last two nights, I probably need it.

All these Cuba programmes on the BBC have one thing in common, and it’s something you don’t see much anymore – except perhaps recently in China and Japan. And that is that no one speaks English. For a country so close to the mainland United States, this could present a significant limit to the growth potential afforded by the easing of sanctions. Granted, in Florida, many people are bilingual, but I would have thought that it will be difficult to expand your future if you don’t speak the language of your potentially biggest, and definitely richest, and closest, country/ market. I hope I’m wrong, obviously, but I have a horrible feeling that I’m not.

Woken by the noon announcement. Lunch. Roof half open – sunny and warm, but quite windy under the open bit. Meant the smoke from the deck barbecue did not linger, but not quite warm enough for long-term sitting around in short sleeves.

Lunch: fruit, burger, corn on the cob, Sudoku. Oh yes, changing it up. How edgy am I?

Siesta. Proper one, this time, with actual sleep and everything. Dinner – edible (no avocados available). Had a surprisingly pleasant and entertaining discussion, considering we wandered into territory such as the monarchy, republics, independence for Scotland, and Brexit from the EU!

Then got right royally April Fooled by an email from home. It’s 9am there, 8pm here (roughly?!), so I had completely forgotten it was still before noon on the 1^st. I will have my revenge…

Deeply saddened by the death of Dame Zaha Hadid. And I have no doubt she will be thoroughly Huxleyed by Ronnie Corbett, which is also sad. Ever more sad is that no one I have mentioned it to on board has ever even heard of the world’s most prominent female architect. But what this one Iraqi woman has achieved will change the world for all women everywhere forever more.

The mineral water now being delivered to the cabins is Otakiri Springs from New Zealand. It tastes slightly stale from the moment you open it.

A lovely night’s sleep. Marvellous stuff. Bit bumpy this morning, so no way I was having a shower. Clocks went forward an hour at 12pm, which brought teatime into collision with late lunch again, and meant that two hours-worth of people were trying to get lunch at the same time. Which just makes life a bit more interesting than usual. Ahem.

Fruit, pasta, Sudoku. Finished my book. Really enjoyed it. Will have to keep an eye out for other stuff  by the same author.

Then back to the cabin for a lie down (actual sleep evaded me). It’s rude not to, and it’s also hard not to, when the ship is moving about this much. It’s not rough – in fact it is extremely calm on the surface – winds are no more than a Beaufort 4 – but there is a swell that rocks you just enough to make you drowsy – mostly pitching, not much rolling. There is currently a massive low over the north Pacific, according to the telly weather, so we are clearly either skirting it or trying to get out of its way as fast as possible, because our average speed is currently very high indeed. But it was calm enough for a shower by tea-time, so managed to kill two birds with that stone.

Watched Divergent yesterday. Quite an enjoyable film. A bit stressful at times, but the fairly standard Hollywood ending helped.

After dinner, I went to see a film at the cinema advertised as Spooks: The Greater Good. However, the film was apparently called MI-5, which seems to me to be a blatant attempt to trick people into coming to see it, thinking they are going to see Tom Cruise hanging off the side of a building in a latex face mask. It was, nonetheless, a very good film, and used a lot of the same music, graphics, etc. as the television series. However, they didn’t use the actual MI5 building (Thames House?) for their outside shots, which, bearing in mind that almost everyone on Earth knows what it looks like and which side of the river it is on, seems an odd thing to change. Granted, it was blown to smithereens in the last James Bond movie but one, but that might be taking the concept of continuity a little too far…

It is not yet warming up, weather-wise, where we are, but I am hopeful that in the next day or so, the sun will come out from behind the clouds and it will be warm enough to go back in the pool. I’m not in the mood for the ‘yelping on entry’ thing. Today, the sea was a bluey-grey colour, which, although an improvement on the dark slate of yesterday, is not blue enough for my liking. I want the shiny yellow ball back in view, and I have waited plenty of days for it, thank you kindly. On the plus side, the west coast of the US seems to be warming up nicely. And this week’s averages in Honolulu are in the 80s, which is just fine by me. All we have to do now is get there.

Slept late. Woke up hungry, which is unusual.

It’s a sea day. What do you think happened?! Fruit, pasta, Sudoku and a bit of reading.

Met the new Seco today (Security Commander/Head of Security). Had to report a woman threatening me. Very odd, really. Yesterday, we had a chat with a guy who was whistling on deck. All perfectly pleasant. Just a chat about how it’s unlucky to whistle on a ship and it makes some people nervous. End of. Or so I thought. Today he and a friend were sat at the next table to us, moaning very loudly about the lack of music by the Neptune pool. So I thought I would try and help them, by explaining that if they wanted muzak, that was available at the other pool. They somehow took offence at this, and started singing loudly, and badly, and whistling – which was pretty immature, but easy to ignore. When I suggested, quite politely, that some people might want to sleep, including those on the sunloungers less than two feet from them, they said “If you want to sleep, go to the library”.  Which is a level of aggression and rudeness I was definitely not expecting. You can’t dignify that sort of crap with an answer, so I just went back to my book (Narrow Dog to Carcassonne by Terry Darlington). If you want to be an inconsiderate bully and ruin other people’s afternoon, that’s your decision. I’m not mucking up my day dealing with your psychological issues. Mum was quite cross, because she likes quiet, but we calmed her down.

A few minutes later, some woman comes screaming at me about how she is not spending the rest of her expensive cruise with her lips zipped shut and how dare I tell her to shut up and what is my name and cabin number and am I threatening her, am I threatening her, am I threatening her, all the time jabbing her finger in my face and getting louder and louder and louder. I have no idea what she was talking about or where she appeared from or who she even was, for that matter, but there was no way I was leaving that as was. That was assault. So I went down to speak to Martin the Seco. Turns out he has been replaced by a new Seco, also, bizarrely, named Martin. Is this a job requirement?! I reported the incident – I was still shaking – but as I had no idea who the woman was, I couldn’t really give him much information. He came up on deck, but they had all run away by then (turns out they were all together – her and the psycho whistling bullies at the next table). Cowards and bullies. Dad says that he thinks that one of the men is a renowned bully, who is already making such a name for himself on here, bullying both staff and passengers alike, that the officers are considering banning him from all P&O ships in the future. Sadly, we are stuck with them until Southampton, unless something gives in the meantime…

They reappeared about an hour later. But much quieter… We shall see how this progresses.

Then a siesta and an edible dinner, although the guy who now prepares the avocados has yet to figure out how to SQUEEZE them before he slices them, to maybe check whether they are ripe yet or not. Nor has he learned that serving ‘any old shit as long as it looks like an avocado’ is not acceptable to the passenger.

But the rudeness on this ship is starting to really get me down. It’s like everyone who is now on board thinks that only what they want matters. No one else. Whether it’s a disabled woman who won’t allow others to use a dipped kerb, or these obnoxious Scottish people who don’t believe in peace and quiet, for anyone, it’s like the whole ship has gone completely mad. I don’t want to feel unhappy, on a trip this amazing, but it’s hard not to feel disheartened, when this is the best version of humanity you can find.

What it’s going to be like once cabin fever kicks in as well, I dread to think. We have eight sea days, remember. People can start to get a bit bonkers after about four.

Slept late. Lunch, fruit, Sudoku.

I ache all over. From my hairline down to my toes. And that’s after two Paracetamol. I have definitely overdone it over the past few days. It could take me a while to feel better this time. But I am not alone. Janet didn’t make it to dinner the night before last, because she just felt too “under the weather”. Today, Pauline cut short a chat because she feels so rotten. She will come and see us when she feels more “up to it”. We are all of us shattered beyond words. I need a siesta, but we lost an hour putting the clocks forward at lunchtime, so by the time I had finished lunch, some people were starting their afternoon tea.

When a simple thing like a clock is your enemy – has such power over your mood, your energy, your ability to function, and is so totally outside your control – everything becomes a bit weird. It’s like living your life under constant exam conditions. I have only such amount of time left before such and such happens. And then it will be too late.

My siesta lasted all afternoon. I woke one minute before dinnertime (my body clock knew it was time for food again!). That was my whole day. Definitely felt better for it, mind you, so it was obviously badly needed rest. I just hope I can sleep tonight!

But not too much. Adam Shaw is giving a talk tomorrow morning, I need to be up in time for. Yes, so we’ve had Adam Hart-Davis, Jonty Hearnden and now Adam Shaw! V. impressive. And we’re not even on the last leg yet, which is when they normally wheel out the big guns. They are also showing that Spooks film again, that I didn’t get to see last time it was on, the day after tomorrow, so I need to remember to sign up tomorrow before all the seats are taken. Busy, busy, busy.

When we arrive in a port, we get an announcement on the tannoy (hopefully in the corridors and not the cabins, but the speaker in my corridor is very loud, nonetheless) to tell us when we are allowed to go ashore. This is usually at about half eight-ish in the morning. It is fairly pointless to rush off this early, in my opinion, because nothing will be open, ANYWHERE, so we tend to aim for 9.30/10, which seems (a) more sensible and (b) more civilised – we are on holiday, after all! In Japan (and Korea), nothing much opens before 11/11.30am, so rushing off in the early hours makes even less sense here. In fact, I said to Dad I would be happy to work in retail if the hours were 12-9, like they are here, and not 9-5.

You are not going to believe this.  Today’s announcement? 07:06. Heaven help you if you were planning a lie-in!

Luckily, I’m not cross, because I was already up, because we have been still for a while, and my body clock doesn’t like that, as you know. Right? So what do I do for the next two hours until my breakfast comes?!

Osaka is twinned with San Francisco but is on the same latitude as Los Angeles. So now you know.

It also has what used to be the world’s biggest passenger ferris wheel (a record now held by Las Vegas). Of course you know that the Singapore Flyer and the London Eye are not ferris wheels, but observation wheels, so I don’t need to explain that to you. 😉 Does anyone remember what I wrote about the wheel last time we were here? Something about a bear of very small brain?

So, anyway, went ashore and grabbed a taxi to the station. Turned out it was a LOT further away than Google Maps led us to believe (like TWICE the time)! Once at the Shinkansen Station (separate stations for different types of trains in Osaka – pay attention), I used the ticket machine to buy some tickets, but, although the machine spoke in English, the very last page was in Japanese only and nothing seemed to happen, so we had to give in and ask for help. A nice guard put it all back into Japanese and did it again, and completed the process for us. We ended up with 12 tickets and two receipts for just two journeys! That’s two tickets per person per trip. And you put BOTH tickets through at once into the gate. Which come out stamped – don’t ask me how. Then up onto the platform. We had unreserved tickets – which I do not recommend. Pay the extra. Get a seat number. And get one in cars 6, 7 or 8, because there although there are stairs and escalators to all three parts of the train, they all basically come out near 6, 7 or 8. And then you have to walk to the front or back to get to the numbers you actually need.

There is STEP-FREE ACCESS from street to train here. Brilliant. And barriers to prevent people falling/ jumping in front of the trains. On board, it is pretty much like any other modern train. Full of people, fairly comfy seats, but with annoyingly small windows. The trip to Kyoto takes 15 minutes exactly. Word of warning: when it says the train is 11.30, it means it LEAVES at 11.30 ON THE DOT, not that it arrives at the platform then. If you aren’t on it by then, you’re getting the next – there’s one every 15 minutes. Precision timing is everything. The ride is, as you would expect, VERY smooth and EXTREMELY quiet. You have no idea how fast you’re moving. In fact, if you don’t look out the window, you can’t even tell you’re moving at all. Very pleasant form of pubic transport travel.

While we were queuing for a cab at Kyoto station (only one big station here for all the different trains), it started to rain, so it wasn’t the greatest welcome to a new city! We went to the Westin Miyako hotel for lunch at their Shi Sen restaurant. Their Chinese food was SUPERB and the service was excellent. We also had a stunning view over Kyoto. Yes, the observant amongst you will have noticed we ate Chinese food in Japan. That’s because their Teppanaki restaurant doesn’t open until the evenings. Which was a shame.

There was a blossom chart in the hotel lobby, which said that the best cherry blossom was currently at the Imperial Palace, so we took a taxi there, instead of our planned visit to Maruyama Park. Having failed to find a wheelchair or anyone to explain the ticketing, we found some peach blossoms – the cherry blossom is still in bud, it isn’t out at all much yet. So the blossom report was wrong. Brilliant. At least the rain had stopped. And we saw some pretty trees.

Then back to the station and back on the train. This time, it pulled in as we got there, so we just jumped into the nearest carriage and sat down in allegedly reserved seats. But as it was the last stop before terminating at Osaka, we weren’t disturbed, and had a pleasant little trip back. There is no gap between Osaka and Kyoto – the buildings never cease – between one and the other. I suppose this is why it is considered one city from the point of view of the world’s largest city measurements. It’s continuous. Mile upon mile of buildings, with only the occasional playing field to break the grey with a splash of green that whizzes by so past, your eyes are still thirsty for it.

Once back in Osaka, we took a taxi to Bic Camera, the huge tax-free electronics store where, on our last visit, I bought a laptop and a camera. No such luck this time. The only computer lady who could be bothered to talk to us, did not speak enough English to make the sale. We even used Google Translate on one of the machines in order to converse! She said that all the computers now default to Japanese, and if you want other languages, you have to do a free download of a language pack. When I said I would be happy with that, as long as we could do it before leaving the store, so I knew it had worked, she could not understand. And she could not find any staff member to speak to me in English.

So we left empty-handed. I cannot spend 400 quid on a computer if I cannot be sure that it speaks the same language as I do! We were disappointed that a store aimed at tourists now hires people that don’t speak good English, but also that the prices are significantly higher than last time, relative to home. I don’t mind a price increase – it has been eight years since we were last here – but a FIVE-FOLD increase is pushing it a bit. There are some beautiful new computers coming out, but wait for the US/European versions. Another word of warning – they all now have Office pre-installed, but you need an Office 365 password to activate them. This is the way it is going to be now. We are all prisoners in Bill’s little world, and there is, as far as I can see, no way out left available.

Then back to the ship for dinner – which was much more edible than last night! Then Dad and I went back ashore to use the free wifi to Skype home. Signal was not marvellous, so we didn’t stay long. But that will be the last chance for over a week, so we had to try. Then bed and crashed. A long day. I am rather looking forward to these upcoming sea days. I’m shattered.

Before dozing off, I watched a movie starring Hugh Grant and Drew Barrymore as songwriters, with Hugh playing, to all intents and purposes, Andrew Ridgley. It was a lovely film, and I really enjoyed it, despite the rather standard Hollywood ending. Does anyone know what it is called?

Slept eleven hours, with only one bout of shivering/ getting up to put on a jumper to constitute an interruption. Bliss.

Lunch, fruit, Sudoku, etc. Dad is very pleased/cross with his new kakuro puzzle book. They’re rather hard, apparently!

Formal night. Wore the new silk jacket I bought in Stanley Market, over the Falkland Islands t-shirt, which just happened to be the right colour, and looked quite ordinary because the jacket covered the penguins, so it looked like a plain top. Got LOTS of compliments on the jacket.

Unfortunately, the food was TERRIBLE. The bread roll was one of those raw dough things I got for breakfast the other day, that I had to spit out – this one disintegrated on contact into a squillion tiny crumbs – and the salad dressing was oil and mustard with no vinegar in it?! The avocado was so hard, I have literally no clue how the chef got a knife through it. It would have been easier to chew the plate it was on. Luckily, today was Eton Mess for dessert night, so I did manage to eat something! Subodh will report back my concerns to the kitchen. He was mortified.

It seems they have rotated the staff again, so we have to start over with a bunch of amateurs in the kitchen who clearly cannot serve decent food to save their lives. To be frank, on a cruise this expensive, I should not be a guinea pig for beginner chefs who cannot even tell whether an avocado is ripe or not. Even I can do that, and they named a tv series after my culinary skills.

The shoulder is better, but not better, if you see what I mean. I still have to use the sling, but mostly to remind me not to do stupid stuff, more than anything else. It still twinges if I do too much with it – like type for long periods, or open the door with the wrong hand, or lie on it for too long. Sue says I can keep the sling as long as I need to, so I’ll keep it on for a while longer, just to be on the safe side. We aren’t taking the wheelchair or the buggy tomorrow, so, at least I won’t feel so guilty about dad having to do all the work.

Tomorrow is a busy day. We are going to try and go to Kyoto in the morning, on the bullet train, to see some cherry blossom, and then come back to Osaka for electronics shopping before dinner. Wish me luck!

Then SEVEN, count them, SEVEN sea days. Lovely. Can’t wait. CORRECTION: EIGHT! WOOHOO!

Takes less time to get from Busan in Korea to Nagasaki in Japan than to get from Nagasaki in Japan to Osaka, which is also in Japan.

Woke at 7 by our arrival. It got so still, it was obvious we had stopped moving.

Breakfast is getting worse by the day. Now, in addition to the washing up sponge toast, which caused me to switch to bread rolls, today the rolls have been replaced with something that most closely represented uncooked dough. I actually spat it out, it was so foul. Luckily, mum and dad had grabbed some proper GF rolls when they went to breakfast, so I didn’t starve.

Then ashore for a bizarrely complicated fingerprinting immigration. The scanner in our line blatantly did not work – you could hear it beeping with an error noise – but she made us all do it, anyway. A very odd and utterly pointless waste of our time.

Then out. Found a taxi rank, but dad had no cash, so we sat in the sun while he went to find some. When he finally got back, we approached the only bit of dipped kerb in the area – the rest of the pavement was edged with kerb about three inches proud of the pavement (might be decorative but not very disabled-friendly). There was another taxi already there – another couple had already got it. Fair enough. So we waited for a couple of minutes, while they told him where they wanted to go. I assumed there was a language barrier. I was probably right.

But there were several people in wheelchairs waiting, and this was the only bit of dipped kerb, so I signalled to the driver to roll forward a little, so that others could also get on with their day, by getting into other taxis. He ignored me, but the huge Australian woman in the back went BERSERK. She lowered her window and started screaming at me. I don’t remember most of it, but I do remember “I have one leg!”. So? Why does that mean you get to screw up the day of every other disabled passenger? I said I was only asking him to move forward, but the screaming continued, with much lowering and raising of windows. She even screamed at me when I started talking to the people behind us in the queue (showing them that there was a dipped kerb available, just not yet), who were also with a wheelchair user. She called me all sorts, and even told me to “Take my attitude back to England”. No, really. I was utterly astonished at her – utterly vile – tirade. I’m sure I will see her around the ship in the next few days, and I will make sure to make it entirely clear to her that if she ever speaks to ANYONE like that again, let alone me, I will take serious action. She may have one leg, but she is not better than others as a result, and she is not the only person on this ship that has mobility issues and needs the use of a dropped kerb. Selfish bitch. I’m still absolutely seething – eleven hours later!

Anyway, (eventually) taxi to the Peace Park. It is basically a sculpture park, on the hill above the hypocentre (where the bomb actually dropped) with some of the ugliest sculptures I have ever seen. Many countries have contributed something they were clearly willing to get rid of. There was also a fountain in the shape of a crane – a symbol of immortality – which was very pretty. But you could not really stop for reflection, quiet or solemnity, because there were SWARMS of tourists – entire coachloads, all with a shouty guide waving a stick in the air. The noise and bustle was ridiculous, and we were not attired for the heat, either. And don’t even get me started on the selfies. So we retreated to the public loos (clean, with toilet paper and water – but no soap or hand towels), and the shop, which was playing entirely inappropriate music through its outside speakers – My Sharona?! In a Peace Park/War memorial?! Then we got another taxi to the ANA Crowne Plaza hotel (no, I have no idea what the ANA bit is about) for lunch in their French restaurant, before beginning our shopping expedition. Mum and dad had smoked salmon. I had Nagasaki Chicken and rice – which was essentially lemon and herb chicken with a very slight aftertaste kick of chilli – just enough to merit a second drink. As regards the shopping, we again walked miles, but we did quite well, this time – clothing and flash drives and puzzle books for dad. We went to a mall near the ship called Youme Town, which was very pleasant indeed, and had a 10% off throughout the store sale for one day only – which was handy. Then back home for dinner.

Everyone here is very helpful and obliging and kind. The taxi drivers have spotless vehicles (in fact, the whole city is pristine), and are more than willing to put a wheelchair in the boot, even if the lid won’t shut. In fact, they carry ropes and bungee cords especially to hold the lid shut on oversized loads. Even complete strangers want to know if you are okay, where you are from, are you enjoying their city. It’s utterly lovely, and feels very gentle after the both mental and physical aggression of China.

BBC World is running a series called What Do Artists Do All Day? It’s fascinating, and very enjoyable. If you get a chance to watch any of it, I thoroughly recommend it. I have now seen two episodes – they are not on very often – but I am absolutely hooked.

I may have forgotten to mention that, when we were sat in the terminal in Tianjin for two hours, we had to listen to the instrumental muzak, that was on a 45 minute loop. The tune that we heard first, and several times thereafter, that really made us smile was ‘My grandfather’s clock’. I haven’t heard that song in over 30 years! But I still remember all the words.

My grandfather’s clock was too large for the shelf

So it stood ninety years on the floor

It was taller by half than the old man himself

Though it weighed not a pennyweight more.

It was bought on the morn of the day that he was born

And was always his treasure and pride

But it stopped, short, never to go again

When the old man died.

Ninety years without stumbling, tick tock tick tock

His life’s seconds numbering, tick tock tick tock

It stopped, short, never to go again

When the old man died.