Unexpectedly this morning, my balcony became a sun trap defying the miserable 16 degrees Celsius that had been forecast. Sunglasses and suntan lotion were essential. But, I have discarded the shorts, unlike many of my fellow passengers in denial about ever decreasing temperatures! It may be clouding over, but at almost 11.30hrs, it’s still a lovely day. Right now, in the Lido on Deck 9, I am looking down from a window seat facing aft, port side, to the ocean below with occasional rainbows created momentarily by the sun’s rays passing through the sea-spray. Jo is seated opposite, alternating between contacting her family on her cell phone and and admiring the sea scape I suspect we shall both long for after a week or two of “wondered about self isolation!”
I had been awake since around 7am with every intention of deck-walking before and after breakfast. But, all of a sudden, it was past 9am. I did enjoy a few precious moments on the balcony, by now a much underused part of my stateroom, except as a great vantage point from which to take photographs and videos.
For days, I have thought about packing, and while the day in port will provide ample opportunity, I shall want to spend much that time then, making the very most of my final hours on board M.V. Queen Victoria.
This afternoon, after lunch, I shall find a home for the champagne that has accumulated as a result of my earlier birthday celebrations. We shall “quaff the lot” during an inebriated (I hope!) whist drive. Apart from continually being dealt seemingly lousy hands, I now enjoy these afternoon whist sessions. I shall then join a quiz team in the Golden Lion.
Aiden and Jose are opening their brand new cabin to their table companions and a few friends, for pre dinner drinks, a kind of cabin warming party albeit at the wrong end of this voyage! The ceiling had collapsed in their previous accommodation adding to Aiden’s general dissatisfaction with the ship.
(Written the following morning, 21/3/20 from 07.30hrs) I missed the afternoon quiz; for some reason, I had not slept well the previous night and had been feeling “heavy-eyed” all day. After playng whist most of the afternoon, I took a short break in my stateroom before going up to the Lido for a snack. Sea-sick medication and a swig of champagne during whist didn’t help, really. I “bumped into” Jo and for a short while, we had conversation at a table by the window. But, she had commenced packing, and needed to continue. I sat alone, but not for long.
Adrian, who used to sit at our table for dinner, but had to transfer to an adjacent table when joined at Ft. Lauderdale by his brother and sister-in-law, in January, came over to sit where Jo had been. Adrian, I would discover early in this voyage, had lost his wife, Marion, very unexpectedly during the QM2 World Voyage 2018 on which I, too, was a passenger. We would talk at some length, and I felt very moved at being entrusted with the Order of Service of the commemoration which occurred shortly afterwards.
Aiden and Jose’s “cabin warming” was a joyous event, and (although not by me), much champagne was “sunk”, I did manage half a glass. Dinner followed in the Britannia Restaurant and the conversation was lively and convivial. We adjourned, some of us to the Show Time featuring three over amplified singers backed by not only the Royal Court Theatre Orchestra, but also the Queens Room Orchestra, the resident string trio, and harpist. I had seen this sort of thing on previous voyages and although excellent, I was deafened and underwhelmed. Jo suggested sitting further back on future occasions. She is correct in that the sound is not evenly spread in the theatre. After the show, it was time to part company and write the day’s blog. I was too tired, and finished it this morning at around 10.00 hrs.
Thanks for reading. David. 21st March, 10am. We advance another hour at noon, bringing us just two hours behind G.M.T. That means I won’t be ringing somebody in the middle of the night!
David's Cruise 