Just the best day ever. Just brilliant. P&O offer rather expensive excursions at every port, but the ones at Beijing didn’t interest us. They offered us EITHER the Great Wall OR Tiananmen Square and the Forbidden City OR the Olympic Stadia (although without going inside them) OR something else. We took one look at it (back in November) and said “Nah, we can do better than that”. We found a tour company on the internet and booked a tour with them. They picked us up from the ship in a beautiful Dodge minivan-type thing. Leather seats, air con (or rather, today, heating!), working seatbelts, just lovely and comfy. They drove us into Beijing which took a couple of hours, and we saw Tiananmen Square, Mao’s Mausoleum, the National Museum of China and the Monument to the Nation’s Heroes. We didn’t get out of the car because (a) it was bloomin’ freezing and (b) we could see fine from the car! You’re not allowed to see Mao, the Monument is an obelisk-type thing, the Square is… a square (not nearly as big as I expected, to be honest!) and we REALLY didn’t feel like doing a museum. Maybe next time…

We then went to the Forbidden City and a little electrical bus like a long milk-float took us around to the entrance (the entrance near the parking area is closed). We went in and had a look around. It’s very nice and Susie, our guide, told us all sorts of facts. Such as, although 6 and 8 are now considered lucky numbers to the Chinese, back in the Emperors’ times, it was 9 that was lucky. Which is why there are 9,999 rooms in the Forbidden City. And all the statues and gargoyles and bits and pieces add up to nine.

Factoid of the day: The ancient Chinese believed there was a purple star at the centre of the Universe, where God lived in a palace with 10,000 rooms. The Emperor’s Palace had 9,999 because he didn’t dare project himself as equal with God.

We were then running ahead of schedule, so Susie took us to a tea house. No, me neither. I associated them with Japan as well. We tried four different types of tea and were taught the different ways in which you’re supposed to drink them. You slurp Oolong, but only Oolong. We also had Jasmine (the one we get in Chinese restaurants in the UK), Puer (pronounced pure) which has no caffeine and is like whisky – thirty years old is best, apparently – and Litchi (lychee, to you) tea, which is naturally sweet, because of the lychees, funnily enough, which was REALLY nice, which is interesting, because I don’t like lychees themselves. Then we walked down the road and round the corner to a silk factory. We were shown how silk is harvested. Vegetarians shouldn’t wear it. Basically, when the silk worm is 5 years old, it builds itself a pupa from a single thread of silk about a mile long, so that it can become a moth. To get the silk, they drop them in boiling water, which kills the worm and softens the pupa, so that it can be peeled apart. It’s fascinating, but I did feel a bit bad for the worms.  They don’t waste the worm, they eat it. Apparently it’s a very nutritious, high-protein delicacy, but still…

Then we got back in the minivan and went to lunch. We took a detour, however, to find some posh loos. They had to be posh because due to the broken wrist, mum is currently one-handed and she needs a handle to hold onto in order to be able to stand up again! Only hotels aimed at Westerners seem to have grasped the concept of disabled toilets, which seems odd, no matter how low the average age of your society… We ended up at the Pangu Hotel, a SEVEN star hotel with VERY nice loos indeed! Then on to the Dragon Land Jade Gallery, the largest jade shop in Beijing, where we ate lunch in the restaurant. Lunch was yummy. Chicken in sweet chilli sauce, beef in black bean (I think), cucumber, broccoli, greens, mushrooms, all stir-fried, pickled cabbage (which is especially important at New Year), an egg and tomato dish, tofu and egg soup, steamed rice, green tea and watermelon for dessert. We then admired the jade on offer, including some ENORMOUS pieces, including a ship that was probably eight feet long and five feet high, a virtually life-sized bull and eagle and a set of eight virtually life-sized horses made from a single piece of jade. We bought a few souvenirs and then we drove to the Wall.

We were planning on going to the Badaling section, which is the usual one, but Susie said that this wasn’t very accessible for mum, so she took us out of the city to Ju Yong Guan, which is a section which is an almost complete circle built by the Ming Emperors. By now, the sun was out, so it wasn’t nearly as cold as it had been earlier in the day, so Dad and I climbed up. He did one tower, I did two. This means two watchtowers, which are dotted along the entire wall and seem to be the standard method of measuring distance on the Wall.

It is quite spectacular, the Great Wall, there’s no other way of describing it. It stretches as far as the eye can see, climbing mountains, running along ridges, 7000km long, several metres wide and very high indeed. It must have been very daunting to approach from the other side, as an outsider. It was daunting enough as a tourist, so what it must have looked like bristling with soldiers, I dread to think!

It’s cold out. I may have mentioned this. We are now running three hours late on our way to Beijing tomorrow morning. Why? Ice. The sea has turned to ice. I kid you not. It’s creepy. It doesn’t help to walk through the pub and hear ‘My Heart Will Go On’, I can assure you. (No, the band really were singing this)  Not iceBERGS, obviously, but large chunks, several metres wide some of them, and heaven knows how deep they go. So we have slowed down. We’re a cruise ship, not an ice breaker. We’re solid but we’re not reinforced to that extent! If I had to describe the sight, and I will have to, because it was impossible to get a picture in the darkness, it was like your local lake when it freezes over in winter. Small bits floating on the top, that gradually join together to form bigger and bigger bits, rather like the way the universe came into being. Then the bigger bits stick to bigger bits and form bigger bits, etcetera, etcetera, etcetera and so forth*. These bits didn’t look particularly big, but we were looking from a hundred feet up, so they were probably a metre or so across. And the whole sea was covered in them. Not just one or two floating past here and there. As far as the eye could see in every direction with nary a gap between them. Just like you see on documentaries about the Arctic or Antarctic. So cool. I wish I could share a photo with you, but I don’t think anyone got a good one. I’ll ask around and see if anyone did, just in case, but you may just have to use your imaginations, I’m afraid.

On the plus side, all this cold over the past two days has meant that the ambient temperature down in the bowels of the ship has dropped, which has meant that I have been able to brush my teeth in cold water for the first time since Egypt. Usually, it’s all a bit tepid, verging on the warm at times, which is singularly unpleasant, I have to tell you. It’s not a major problem in the grand scheme of things, which is why I haven’t whinged about it (there are plenty enough whingers on here without my joining in, I can tell you!), but it is nice to have cold water for a change! I have had to turn the shower up from 15 to 20 degrees though, to compensate! (cos when the cold feed is warm, you don’t need much hot!)

We make our own water. I think we can produce about 100,000 gallons a day, but we can only do this when we’re doing over 12 knots (the desalination equipment can’t run at less than that, apparently). This meant that we made no water for two days when we were in Egypt (Port Said and the Suez Canal transit, where the speed limit is 9 knots). Mind you, when we were running past pirates in the Gulf of Aden we were doing over 22 knots, so I guess we made up for it then! We got so low on water that we loaded several tankers-full at Sharm El Sheikh, but when it came out it was such a dodgy colour, they quarantined it and I think they decided not to use it in the end! The yellowness may have just been caused by sand, but I prefer my water to be as near colourless as possible with a vague tinge of blue, if it’s all the same to you!

I should warn those of you that have never taken a cruise that the tap water isn’t as lovely as that you get at home. Not by a long chalk. Some days it’s salty, some days they go a bit nuts with the chlorine, sometimes it just tastes plain odd, but it’s nothing that a couple of ice cubes can’t fix! And the bottled stuff we buy on is nice enough, usually. On a previous cruise, we had some bottled stuff that was absolutely horrid, but so far, the Buxton we loaded in Southampton and the Krivos we loaded in Athens have been lovely. Now we have stuff called Splash that we loaded in Singpoare, which is also very nice, so when the tap water is having a bad day (it varies considerably depending on which tank we are drinking from!) that even ice cubes can’t redeem, there’s always something drinkable somewhere on board!

I do like Hong Kong. It’s not as cheap as it used to be, and the people can be annoying but I do like Hong Kong. It’s a very cheerful city, even in bad weather.

One of the things we did twice was we took the Peak Tram, which is a wonder of Victorian engineering. Built in 1888, it is the steepest tramway in the world, and runs up to the top of Victoria Peak. It’s a slightly hairy ride, but it’s a fascinating experience, in lovely old Victorian cars. The view from the top is spectacular. Apparently. The peak has been shrouded in mist for almost all of the two days we have been here. We caught a glimpse on our first trip up, but on the second, it was a complete white-out. Visibility was down to a matter of about twenty or thirty feet. I felt bad for those who hadn’t done the morning tour. They essentially got the top and saw nothing. Absolutely nothing.

As part of our morning tour, we were taken on a sampan ride. Sampans are small motorised boats that seat ten or eleven and are essentially motorised rowing boats with a canopy over the top. They are not particularly stable and the harbour is surprising choppy, but it was a very enjoyable ride. It only lasted about twenty minutes though, which was a shame. Oh well, can’t have everything.

Overhyped. The light show in Hong Kong Harbour. Seriously, don’t bother. When we came before, we went out on a harbour cruise and saw all the lights on the skyscrapers. Very pretty. This time, they have apparently created a light show and set it to music. Well, you know what? They flash on and off all the time, anyway. We couldn’t tell the difference. The “music” was dire, the “show” virtually non-existent. As far as I could tell, the only difference was the apparition of green lasers on three roof-tops. There was one building that seemed to turn its decorative lights on and off ALMOST in sync with the music, but that was it. Big deal. Good thing it was free, otherwise people would have been very annoyed indeed! Granted, it was a bit misty, which may have muted the potential effect slightly, but it was singularly unimpressive, I’m afraid.

This morning, we went to the Peninsula (one of the world’s top hotels) for a cup of coffee. Has to be done, darling. It’s SO civilised. Imperialism was probably a Bad Thing, but the hotels left behind are Fabulous.

Came to buy electronics but totally failed to buy anything. Those who did want to sell either didn’t have what I wanted or wanted ludicrous prices (higher than London!). Others wanted to sell but seemed so shifty and untrustworthy, we walked out. Apparently, asking for a digital camera with a viewfinder that works well in low light is astonishingly overdemanding of me. They could or would only offer me one or the other. Moral of the story: do more research before you get here. Know EXACTLY which model you want before you arrive. Then go out and find it.

HK is nowhere near as cheap as it used to be. We were only here in 2005, but it is certainly not the bargain capital it used to be. Not by a long chalk. There are also now a LOT of fakes in the market. So you can buy something that looks like a Sony, has all the right blurb and bits, guarantees, holograms, the works, get home and find out when you ring for help that that model simply doesn’t exist. This problem also exists in Tenerife, but it makes shopping very trying. Moral of the story: as above!

So I’ve bought nothing. I bought a bag for mum for her birthday and some postcards. That’s it. That’s the product of my two-day spree in Hong Kong. So disappointing. And it’s not like I wasn’t eager to buy. My camera has a dead pixel which is ruining my photos, so I REALLY wanted a new one! But if you don’t have what I want, I can’t buy it from you. *shrug*

This is the problem with buying clothes as well. There’s some beautiful stuff and I really wanted to buy some, but they don’t make western sizes. I don’t just mean big enough for my fat rear, I mean anyone over five foot tall with breasts or hips, or (heaven forbid!) both, can forget it. It’s bizarre. They know what we look like. They act like they want the business. They survive on tourism to a large extent these days (Hong Kong now “makes nothing” according to our tour guide yesterday), and yet they absolutely refuse to make clothes big enough for their customers! Mum found one shop in Stanley Market that sold her type of stuff and bought all she (or rather dad) could carry. Maybe that’ll give the neighbouring businesses a clue as to what they need to do to get some business. Or maybe not. I’m getting very philosophical about it – although no less bitter or annoyed, bizarrely – if you don’t want my money, you don’t have to have it. No skin off my nose. If you provided my size, I’d probably buy LOADS, but if you won’t, I can’t, can I?

Today is our second Vietnam stop, Halong Bay. This morning, we went out on a junk cruise around the bay. It is a World Heritage Site and the scenery is stunning. Lots of tiny islands of limestone and volcanic rock rising vertically out of the bay, like James Bond Island in Thailand. Several hundred metres high and maybe half as wide, carved into different shapes by the wind and the sea. There was a heavy mist all morning, which kept things nice and cool (mid-20s Celsius), kept the waves to a minimum and also gave an air of mystery to the rocks as you couldn’t see the tops of them. Quite magical. Unfortunately, the tour would have been just as magical in half the time. Four hours driving round in one big circle wears a little thin after a while!

There was a woman on the boat selling handicrafts and t-shirts. She spoke no English whatsoever, but she was very sweet. And VERY persistent! I bought a t-shirt and a silk shirt, but I think I’ll wash them before I use them. I particularly liked the fact that once you’d bought something from her, she just assumed you’d buy anything! She came back with the most hideous stuff, including some plastic toy crabs and a Duracell bunny toy banging on a drum (except white plastic rather than pink and fluffy). No thank you! There was also the fact that the engine fumes in the boat were so strong, I thought we’d be dead long before we got back to the ship! Surprisingly, the toilet on the junk was quite good. We’d been warned to expect “basic” so I was pleasantly surprised to find not only a proper, flushing toilet, but toilet roll, running water, soap, the works. All that was lacking was something to dry your hands on, which in this humidity is vital. Well, that’s what t-shirts are for, I guess!

When we got back to the ship, we grabbed some lunch (not pleasant, best glossed over – not sure how you can get cold roast beef and coleslaw wrong, but still…) and then headed to the shore on a tender (lifeboats used for non-emergency purposes are tenders). We went to a local market that had some lovely stuff.  Unfortunately, several of the stalls sold the same things, which got a little repetitive, but the people were lovely and their wares were beautiful. Mum and dad went back to the ship, intimidated by a sharp shower, and I carried on wandering on my own.

I decided to walk back, but got distracted by a 4 star hotel called the Halong Dream Hotel. The logo was a smiley face. It would have been rude not to go in!   Their interior designer was probably the person that designed the original Brent Cross shopping centre (Britain’s first purpose-built mall) – all big white shiny tiles and large grey marble panels and the wall signs were brass with black writing. The picture on the mens’ loos was a silhouette of a man in a bowler hat and the ladies’ had a woman’s head wearing a sort of Ascot-suitable headpiece. I’m not sure how many milliners there are in Vietnam, and I must confess that on my several visits I have yet to see anyone wearing a bowler, but I suppose it’s as good a differentiation as any! I used their (rather lovely) loos and their cheap internet connection and then they called a taxi for me so that I got back to the ship in style. I bumped into a mate back on board who said that walking back was a nightmare of beggars and hawkers, so I made the right choice. And it only cost 2 dollars.

Talking of harassment, nowhere in Vietnam is safe from beggars and hawkers. Even when we were out in the bay, on junks or tenders, there were beggars in small boats (sadly, mostly with small children on board) and other boats of people chasing our boats to try and sell us fruit or just stick their hands in the window and beg. One of the women begged while she rowed, while her two small children, probably no more than two and three years old, baled out the boat with their cups. It feels bad saying no all the time, but I can’t afford to buy tonnes of stuff I don’t need or want and have nowhere to put or keep it just because I feel bad. I can’t afford, full stop. Of course, there is also the risk that once you give to one, they all come swarming after you. I watched someone make that mistake at the Pyramids at Giza once. He disappeared under a stampede of small children and was never seen again.

Factoid of the Day: Hanoi means Dragon Ascending and Halong means Dragon Descending. The myths goes that dragons protected the country in a war and then lay down in the water to protect the bay in the future (they’re the rocks we saw). So there you go.

Funny thing, cruising. Humans are quite target-driven creatures. They aim for stuff and either succeed or fail. Other animals are more content to just be. Cruising, however, is, almost by definition, aimless. Yes, you go TO places, but they are not your destination. They’re a passing point. And the day to day existence of eating, sunbathing, filling your time with nothings – internet, learning a language, learning a craft or a new game or sport, bridge, table tennis, cricket – none of it has a meaning or purpose. It’s just filler. Filling the time between meals, theatre shows, parties. All of which is also filler, designed to distract you from the passing of time and distance, or the risk of piracy*. You go to places so briefly, they barely notice your presence, charge around in an air-conditioned coach for four hours or so, buy some tacky locally-made knick-knacks and ludicrously over-priced postcards, and then leave. It’s a good taster of whether a place would appeal vis à vis a longer return visit (Key West, yes, Colombo, no, for example), but it’s hardly in depth discovery of another culture or way or life. Everything on the ship is transient and everything is filler. It’s all really about the journey. Travelling across the ocean. Nothing but water in every direction. The horizon is visible up to about 15 or 20 miles in every direction and there is nothing but sea and sky. Elemental stuff, if you can only drown out the noise of all the filler long enough to hear it. Even a stroll around the deck is disturbed, by the health nuts charging past doing lap after lap after lap. They never turn their heads sideways. They never stop and admire the view. They never slow down and contemplate the enormity of what they’re doing here, their minuteness in the face of the endless seas. Too busy charging past trying to burn off last night’s trifle. You know what? If it bothers you that much, DON’T EAT THE TRIFLE!

And so the ship tips gently from side to side as each gust of wind lifts the waves, the wire coat hangers chime gently against the wardrobe doors, and the world turns. It’s a very, very big world and we are a very, very small ship tootling across the surface. Not as small as the ships that the discoverers and explorers travelled in, but small enough in the grand scheme of things. We’re a speck, even on our own maps and charts. And all most of the people on this speck are worrying about is getting a good sunlounger and what to wear for dinner.

* Footnote re: pirates. We emerged from the Gulf of Aden unscathed, but apparently, the ship behind us in the convoy (which was slower and lower in the water than us) was shot at. So there you go.

Two things I didn’t expect in Dubai .

1. The traffic. Absolutely solid. All day. Our tour bus took five cycles of traffic lights just to get away from its starting point!

2. The humidity. I just assumed that because it’s an oil/ desert- type country, the heat would be dry heat. But, it is much further north than most “Arabian” countries and is actually sub-tropical, same as Mumbai. The humidity was astonishing. Of course, as Dubai has the highest water consumption in the world (they seem oddly proud of this…), most of which they use to water their lawns and spray into the air via their myriad fountains, it’s perhaps not all that surprising.

Dubai is the manifestation of what happens if you have WAY too much money and WAY too much time on your hands. From a small pearl fishing village to a massive modern city in less than forty years. A city built almost entirely of follies. Not little bitty follies, like a miniature castle at the bottom of the garden. Big, massive, multi-billion dollar ones that glint in the sun. A massive ski slope with 250 million tonnes of real snow on 5 pistes. In a sub-tropical desert state. The World – a set of man-made islands that form a map of the world. Own your own island! Own your own country! The Palm – a purpose built set of islands in the shape of a palm tree, with Atlantis on the Palm at the end, one of the most extraordinary holiday resorts in the world at the far end. Another hotel built to look like a wave, which has it’s own PURPOSE-BUILT PRIVATE CORAL REEF 4km from the shore. The Burj Dubai, a hotel that looks like the sail of a yacht. With it’s own limo team to get you from the airport. By helicopter. And, of course, the Burj Khalifa (known to most as the Burj Dubai because they only changed the name on the day they opened it, after all the maps had been reprinted!), the tallest building on Earth. Half a mile straight up. I was hoping to go up it, but not only is it rather expensive to do, but the opening was so recent, that you still have to book over a day in advance to be allowed to go up it. Mind you, as the lift apparently travels at 18m per second, I’m not sure I’m all that disappointed…

Another thing the people of Dubai are not short of is shops. Of the twenty-odd stops on the Hop-On Hop-Off Bus Tour thingy, probably more than two thirds were shopping malls. Big ones, bigger ones, small ones, cheap local ones, ones built to look like Egyptian pyramids – Debenhams, Waitrose, Bloomingdales, Saks Fifth Avenue – you name it, they’ve got, not just a presence here, but a whopping great store that you need a rest halfway around. Some malls are so large, they have golf carts to get you from A to B, because B is just so far away from A. The largest shopping mall in the world is here, unsurprisingly. It has a 12 million gallon aquarium in the middle of it. Another is attached to the ski slope and is the biggest in… oh, I don’t know. Everything is the biggest. It’s exhausting!

Factoid of the Day: In the days after Nine Eleven, when all flights were grounded in the USA, the average temperature across the USA rose 3 degrees. This is because aeroplanes cause vapour trails and vapour trails cause clouds and the clouds reflect the heat of the sun back away from the Earth. So if we stop flying, global warming will actually get worse. There, that should mess with your head nicely for a while…

Anyway, back to the present day. Tropical night/ deck party night. Which means all the waiters at dinner wear Hawaiian shirts, we all got a lei with our dinner napkins, and we were asked to dress up “tropically”, i.e. Hawaiian shirts, flowery dresses, flowers in the hair, etc. I wore navy trousers with my silk Hawaiian shirt with the parrots on, and three scrunchies – one blue to match the shirt, one with a white flower and one with a sunflower. There’s a disco on the top deck, around the pool (well, one of them) – this is the “deck party” bit. Had a superb time, but discovered that the same cocktail on Deck 12 in the Riviera Bar is SIGNIFICANTLY stronger than the same cocktail on Deck 7 in the Masquerade bar. Got quite sloshed, frankly, let’s not mince words. I was swaying, literally. And, unfortunately, as the sea was smooth as glass, I couldn’t even blame it on the ship! So sloshed was I that there may have been dancing, there may even have been some Macarena.   Sorry… I do apologise, really I do. Mostly to poor Guy and Simon, with whom I spent the evening. Poor souls… Bed at 2.30am. Clocks forward another half hour.

Final thought. There are a LOT of teetotal people on this ship…and they’re a grumpy bunch…

No, don’t worry, we haven’t hit stormy seas! Just the usual peaks and troughs of daily life.

Up

Today, the new couple on our table provided several moments of entertainment. Firstly, Sonia decided against ordering the soup. She said she didn’t like the sound of plum soup. When we’d all finished crying with laughter, we pointed out that the menu had said plum TOMATO soup.

Then her husband, Mike, told about their visit to the Coliseum in Rome. He went to the toilet and found himself standing next to a Roman Centurion. As you do. So he took his picture! In the loos! Poor bloke couldn’t even pee in peace! They’re lovely but a bit mental, the new couple.

Down

Dinner was a bit of a disaster, really, all in all. Both our waiters disembarked today (they’re almost all Goan, so Mumbai is their stop), so we have new ones, who don’t know our foibles or peccadilloes, and they struggled to cope. Simple things like remembering to refill our water glasses (which bearing in mind how hot it was in Mumbai today and the average age of cruise passengers is actually slightly dangerous) or giving me a teaspoon to eat the ice cream I had ordered with (triple chocolate with chocolate sauce, before you ask). (I am aware of the grammatical clumsiness of that last sentence but “with which” sounded so pompous, I decided against it). I’m sure they’ll get the hang of it in a day or two, though.

Down

Today I didn’t get off the ship. I’ve seen Mumbai several times, and I don’t much like it, to be honest. It’s such an assault on the senses – sight, sound, smell – and the crowds are ceaseless. I’m not a big fan of crowds at the best of times, but crowds of people with no concept of personal space is beyond me, I’m afraid.If you’ve never been, you should, but once or twice is plenty.

Up

Instead, I decided to pamper myself. I had a massage, a pedicure and a manicure. In future, I’ll do it the other way round. I ruined my manicure getting changed for dinner. Next time, if I have it first, it can dry during the massage. I’ll have to have at least two fingers redone tomorrow. Bum. Left thumb and right little finger, fact fans. Dionne, the nail technician, is obsessed with Justin Timberlake and plays no other music. Gabriel, my (male) masseur, is brilliant and lovely. When I waved at him with wet nails to say my water bottle was empty, he offered me the hand sanitising gel to drink! Well, it has got alcohol in it, but I’m not sure that that qualifies it as potable… The pedicure chair has a footbath and is also a massage chair, so I actually got TWO massages!

Up

Australia Day. All very silly. Drinking games and competitions between Brits and Ozzies. Good fun. The Ozzies won, resoundingly. I joined the Ozzie side, but I wasn’t much help!

Up

Went out on deck with a smoker friend at midnight and found a man (passenger) playing Meat Loaf songs on a banjo. No, really. He did other stuff, obviously – Dolly Parton, Eagles, Tom Jones, all sorts – but it was Bat out of Hell that really stuck in my mind. Can’t think why…

Ear ache. Not more loud Egyptian musicians, or norovirus handwashing nagging, but actual bona fide physical earache. I think I have a mosquito bite in my left ear. It’s agony. I’ve been given antibiotic drops and am knocking back the ibuprofen, but although the pain subsides, that just means I get to sleep all day as the pain keeps me awake at night. Every time I turn over onto my left side, the pain wakes me up. In the past two days all I have done is eat and go to Spanish class. The rest was all sleep. I did manage to kill her last night, so hopefully, I’ll have no fresh bites tomorrow. She ate well before she died, though. I have bites on my toes, calves, thighs, fingers, shoulders and arms. All on my right side, now I come to think about it, so how she got to my left ear, I have no idea.

As regards the sleep, though, it doesn’t help that the clocks keep going forward, so the nights get shorter and shorter! Twice in two nights isn’t fair, frankly. Seems a bit harsh to me. My body clock doesn’t know which way is up.

We’ve finally got a decent internet satellite signal (and BBC World is back, although CNN remains elusive), so I’ve been catching up with some of my friends’ news from home and several seem to be having a particularly rubbish time at the moment. I feel bad that I can’t log on more often or be of more help. All I can do is send virtual hugs, which feels a bit lacking, when they’re facing job loss, health problems, bereavement and mistreatment at work.

No pirates, so far…

Weather forecast for Salalah tomorrow: 24 – 26 degrees (depending on which tv station you watch!). My sun cream seems to have curdled somewhat. It now has the consistency of cottage cheese! Still seems to work, though, oddly enough…

As regards the sleeping and the ear thing,  it doesn’t hurt as much as it did yesterday, but it’s still quite swollen and sore. Hopefully another day or so should finally knock it on the head and I can get a decent night’s sleep and get my days back! Mind you, as we are currently in the Gulf of Aden (pirate waters, arrrr), we’re not allowed out on the Prom deck (Deck 7), so I couldn’t walk my mile, even if I did have the energy. Which I don’t, so it’s all moot, frankly.  Am astonished how draining earache is.

Salalah

It may have been 26 degrees but it absolutely fell down with rain. Marvellous.  Didn’t go ashore at all.

A quick P.S. re: Piraeus. Non-smokers should not go there. Ever. Under any circumstances. All Greeks smoke. Everywhere. Constantly. I honestly believe that the smog in Athens isn’t car pollution, it’s lung output. Absolutely DEEEEEEEEEEEEESGUSTING. Bleurgh.

Cairo

Factoid of the day #1: There is currently a trend in Egypt for novelty covers for car headrests. I’ve had pairs of Minnie Mouses (Minnie Mice?) grinning out at me and a couple of very disconcerting panda heads. It’s all rather odd and not a little creepy.

Got up hideously early – 6am or 4am to you and my body clock. Instead of booking an expensive P&O tour that went to places we’d already been, we booked something independently, courtesy of the ‘tinternet. We were met by Mohammed and Mahmud and their nameless driver in a little minibus-type thing at 7am. The drive into Cairo and down to Memphis took four hours, almost exactly. The roads are bumpy, to say the least, even the tarmac ones, and the suspension of the little minibus was extremely soft, which made for a rather disconcertingly bouncy journey. Sleep catch-up was NOT an option.

Factoid of the day #2: Mido is short for Mohammed. When Mahmud told us he has an eleven-year old son, I very knowledgeably said, “So his name is Mohammed?” (all firstborn sons are named Mohammed). “No,” says Mahmud, “it’s Mido”. “What does Mido mean?” asks I. “It’s short for Mohammed,” he says. *sigh* He was very chuffed that I was a Spurs fan and knew who Mido was!

Memphis is very odd. It was the first capital of Egypt after the two kingdoms were united, but virtually nothing remains. There are the ruins of the temple, but you can’t go to them, as they are fenced off behind some houses. So you get taken down the road to a “museum” of bits they found. This is sort of like a miniature sculpture park, only some of the sculptures are 30 foot tall limestone statues of Raamses II. There’s no context, there’s no explanation or history or even little signs to tell you what you’re looking at. If your guide doesn’t know, you’re stuffed! Luckily ours did. There’s also a small sphinx whose face is still in tact. It looks very different to the big one at Giza! There is also a building which is called the Mit Rahina Museum. It’s a one room building and contains precisely one artefact: an absolutely massive statue of Raamses II. This one is lying down, because he’s lost his legs, but he is absolutely colossal in scale. That’s the museum. One item, in one room. I tell you, it’s a good thing the Trade Descriptions Act doesn’t cover Egypt!

Factoid of the day #3: Cairo traffic jams really should be a Wonder of the World. We were on a clearly painted three-lane road. In FIVE very neat lanes of traffic. In Cairo, the width of the lane is the width of your vehicle, if you’re lucky. Those who undertake and overtake will give you just that amount of space, no more, no less. No need to go into a whole other lane just to get past you who takes up less than half, now, is there? Didn’t see any cyclists all day. Not surprised, they’ve probably all long since been squished between over-friendly car manoeuvres. Lots of donkeys and carts, however, who have the sense to stick to the hard shoulder. So would I have done, give half a chance!

From Memphis to Dahshur to see the Red Pyramid (which isn’t red any more cos someone nicked all the red sandstone covering it) and the Bent Pyramid, two of the oldest pyramids found. Then to Saqarra for lunch. The itinerary said we would return to Cairo to eat at the Hard Rock Cafe but we begged for this not to happen (!), and instead we went to the Restaurant of the Pharaohs in Saqqara. The food was superb, surprisingly Mediterranean (lots of aubergine and things in yoghurt). There was also a barbecue of chicken and beef with rice (no risk of accidental pork here!) which was yummy. There was a band of three men playing traditional instruments. However, this mostly consisted of the one with the oboe-type instrument (you know the one – the one you see in pictures of snake charmers) blasting it til your ears bled ONLY when you were walking right past them. The rest of the time, they were virtually silent. My ears are still ringing, six hours later!

Then round the corner to Saqarra, which was what it was really all for. The Step Pyramid of Imhotep is believed to be (at least currently) the oldest pyramid on Earth. We were astonished to find that, instead of just a pyramid, there was a whole complex of buildings leading to it – including a dramatic colonnaded entryway, a courtyard with other buildings and, underneath, 28 feet underneath, no less, the tombs of the high priests and those who held positions of authority. Imhotep was the architect, not the occupant. I think his name was King Zoser, but don’t hold me to that. It was hot and windy and there was a lot of sand in my eyes and ears at the time!

By now our body clocks were chiming tea time so we retired to the J W Marriott Cairo for tea and cakes and posh loos (most important!) before beginning the two hour drive back to the ship. When we got back, I had a shower (sand, lots of it) and then we had dinner in the Orangery (the self-service cafeteria on the top deck that currently isn’t self-service to reduce the risk of the norovirus being re-spread around). And now, here I am, uncertain whether I need to pass out or go out, but definitely leaning towards the former as of now… Oh, did I mention it was 24 degrees in the shade today…?

Last night may not have been the best night for the 18-35 Get Together (with free booze!). I didn’t get to bed till 2 and I’m a bit hungover today. Met a lovely couple, on their honeymoon, Guy and Simon from Eastbourne. Ever so sweet, and Simon shares my love of the Pet Shop Boys, much to Guy’s dismay!

We didn’t have a “To Do” list for Piraeus. We’ve been to both Athens and Piraeus before. We went to Carrefour and M&S, had a cup of coffee in a bar and lunch snacks in another (I didn’t eat anything cos I feel like poop). Then we wandered around the marina for a while looking at the boats. All different sizes, from itty bitty to OMG! Then back to the ship.

I may have hit a new personal best today. I bought two Christmas presents. On January the 12th. Oh yes. Trouble is, I didn’t think to bring the Christmas present book with me, so I can’t note down what I’ve brought for whom. I just hope I can remember when I get back in April!

Walked a mile and a third today. Would have done more but I hurt my knee doing the twist last night and it started to complain. Got to be fit for Egypt tomorrow, so I had to give in. It’s 18 degrees, now, which is very nice indeed. Just right. 24 tomorrow in Cairo, so I’ll have to dig out the sun cream tonight. I wonder if I need mosquito repellent. Can’t remember.

“Dear Passenger

On the 18th of this month we will sail out of the Red Sea and head toward the Indian Ocean. This will involve a transit of the Gulf of Aden [the world’s second hotspot for piracy after the Somali coast].

We have a comprehensive security plan for this transit. As a part of this plan, you should be aware of the following:

The external Promenade deck area of deck seven will be closed on both sides and no passengers or crew will be allowed access for the duration of the transit.

During hours of darkness, only essential open deck lights will be on as it is important to reduce the ship’s external lighting. With this in mind, please turn off your cabin lights and close the curtains of your cabin window or balcony.

In order to familiarize (sic) you with these additional measures there will be a passenger and crew drill at 10am.

In the unlikely event that an incident takes place, the ship’s alarm bells will be sounded followed by a broadcast from the Bridge. Please listen carefully to all the instructions given to you.

Initial action will be as follows:
Go directly to your cabin
If you have a window or balcony you should go into the corridor outside your cabin and sit on either a chair or on the floor.
If you have an inside cabin you should remain inside your cabin.
All passengers will be accounted for by their room steward.

During this time you should not go onto any open decks or near any external windows.

I must emphasise that the safety and the security of every individual on board is my highest priority and the implementation of this procedure is an important part of the ship’s security plan.”

So we have the drill. I have an inside cabin, so I stay in bed! The announcements go on, so eventually I give up and pop my head out into the corridor to see what’s going on.

I hear a woman down the corridor telling her steward in no uncertain terms (I think I can use “imperiously” quite safely here) that she will only turn off the lights on one side of her cabin as she has “checked” and the other light cannot be seen from outside.

Now, firstly “turn off your lights and close your curtains” doesn’t seem like the most invasive and demanding of requests, at least to me. It’s hardly arduous, is it? What’s the big deal in just doing what you’re told?

Secondly, unless you can FLY, you can’t see whether your lights show on deck B. It’s about 90 feet from sea level or about 75 feet from ground level. You just ain’t that tall, love. Even if you could, you can only get outside the ship during daylight hours, so you can’t see what it looks like in the dark.

Thirdly, seriously, just give it a MODICUM of thought. If they can see a light, they can FIRE AT IT. You stupid woman. Seriously. How complex a set of ideas is this, really? They have speedboats, AK-47s and rocket-propelled grenades. Why would you want to leave a light ON?! This from someone well old enough to have lived through the war and who must surely understand the concept of the blackout. I swear, these people are going to give me an ulcer.

I went to reception and told them what I had heard, because she could well endanger us all, after all, and the girl I spoke to thanked me for telling her, but she wasn’t surprised. She said that I would be amazed at some of the complaints she had received, particularly that there wasn’t enough seating in the corridor during the drill. It’s a drill. In a corridor.

It is important to remember at all times that it doesn’t require any amount of intelligence whatsoever to have the money to go on a cruise. Repeat after me…any idiot can afford a cruise, any idiot can afford a cruise, any idiot…

Just to be clear, don’t worry, I’m pretty sure we are armed to the teeth (although they would never come out and say so) and we saw them testing the water cannons yesterday. I’m not that worried. It does happen, but they have a system in place. Spare your thoughts instead for the inhabitants of Haiti instead. Their need is greater than anyone else’s. 7.0 is a big quake. The scale only goes to 8, doesn’t it?