David's Cruise

At Stairway B on Deck 7 (if I recall correctly) I was told by a passenger that Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth II had died.  This was confirmed by a message from Captain A A. Hashmi on board RMS Queen Mary 2 relayed throughout the ship, and in every passenger’s stateroom.

An era came to an end at around 18.30 hrs tonight.  Just over an hour later, while I was making my way from the front part of Deck 7 to my stateroom, I learned from a passenger that H.M. Queen Elizabeth II had died.  Captain Hashmi had already announced that her health had deteriorated, and I figured that perhaps “things had become serious.”  In fact, the end was far closer than I was able to contemplate. 

David, 8th September 2022.

Days 4,  7th September 2022

7/9/22

The voyage is going very well so far. No uncomfortable crossing of the North Sea, surprisingly warm and pleasant weather, and plenteous dramatic scenery.  There is much packed into this seven night voyage, which on paper, might come across as “not out of the ordinary.”  For our American friends, this is indeed a major travel event with fourteen days added for crossing the Atlantic, and some further days for visits to Belgium and France.

Yesterday, we called at the attractive town of Stavanger, where the number of museums and churches, along with pleasant walks would warrant at least a week’s stay there.  There are boat trips to the more spectacular places.

Continued 8th September,  07.51hrs

I found little time to write yesterday; however, our maiden call at the tiny village of Skjolden (instead of Flam) was delightful. There was little or no breeze all day, and the sky appeared completely  clear.  After the coolness of the early morning, warmth from the September sun was aplenty until such time as it set behind the high banks of the Listrafjord once again. 

Skjolden rests 58°58 N at the far end of Lustrafjord, and has a population of between 200 and 300, depending on who one talks with. A single jetty can accommodate one large liner or cruise ship, and from what I gather, Skjolden has been catering for the cruise industry, rather impressively, for just a small number of years. Queen Elizabeth called there in 2011 on its maiden call.

For such a tiny settlement, there was a surprising amount available to see and do. But I did get the impression that once QM2 had left at around 6pm, this little settlement would revert to the quiet place it is normally. Our tour guide on the bus did say that during the summer, the narrow roads are clogged up with tourists arriving mainly by car.

I chose a charming coach trip covering around 40 miles along the narrow but well laid road along the hugely scenic Listrafjord and several small tunnels, to the tiny settlement of Urnes, site of a small but highly decorated stave church dating back to the early 12th Century. Again, from what I gather, there had been four previous places of worship on the same site, with much of the previous buildings being “recycled” into the present church which has stood for almost 900 years…Ye Gods! The church guide suggested that the wood used in its construction would have been seasoned for around 100 years before building commenced.

At Urnes, a ferry is available to transport vehicles,  including a bus, passengers and goods to Solvorn a “sleepy Victorian village, slightly larger, which boasts Norway’s oldest hotel, dating back to (I think) the 17th Century.  Annoyingly, the photographic stops at Gaupne and Luster did not occur, nor did the promised walk to view the 715 ft waterfall at Feigum.  We did stop at closed grocery store at the behest of the lady sitting next to me on the coach! I may try for a partial refund; Cunard Shore Experiences are not cheap!

Despite my grievances, this was a most pleasant and enjoyable almost four hours.  On returning to the ship, I walked into the village, enjoying the fabulous scenery and the up-to-now unique sight of Queen Mary 2 nestled rather incongruously in such a tiny settlement with such an awesome backdrop.

Our stay in Olden, the following day, would be equally mind-blowing.

Most of this blog was written the following afternoon, after another fabulous day in the lovely Norwegian port of Olden.

Many thanks for reading, David, 19.20hrs outside the Terrace Bar, Deck 8 aft.

Seemingly, the Norwegian port of Stavanger can accommodate two large cruise ships, as well as other smaller craft.  My stateroom is on the starboard side of the ship and thus, generally, faces away from the quayside.  The view therefore today was “unremarkable” apart from the tantalising glimpse of mountains in the distant background.  There was, however, a good view of the second ship in port, “AIDAbella,” an impressive vessel, but with silly signature graphics along the hull, and a stupid grin adorning the ship’s prow.  Ye Gods!

I should have got up earlier today, and given myself time to do much more than merely ride the Hop-on Hop-off bus on a 45 minute circuit.  What Stavanger is like on a lousy cold wet miserable day, I can only imagine.  But today, the town shone like a jewel, bathed in clear balmy bright early September autumnal climes.  No need for long sleeves, and I would have got away with shorts today. 

The original industry of Stavanger was canning. However, in the 19th century, oil was discovered making this town the “oil capital of Norway.”  There is much to see here, numerous churches, museums as well as parks and lakes.  Some of the modern architecture is reminiscent of the “unattractive but maybe futuristic 60s.”  There are also very imaginative more modern structures and sculptures to behold, and of course, plenty of traditional weatherboarded houses and other buildings.  According to the Navigational Channel, Stavanger sits at 58°58 N. That’s almost as far north as (I think) as Haines in Alaska, reached earlier this year on Cunard’s Queen Elizabeth.

I rarely have a drink at “sailaway,” but leaving Stavanger this afternoon was gorgeous. I treated myself to a cranberry juice, but was unable to finish it because of the unnecessarily high sugar content. There’s warmth in the sun, and there’s much to enjoy looking from the ship. We were due on board by 3.30 this afternoon. I think we waited for just one person who can be forgiven for losing track of time in this attractive port town.

The few hours spent at our first port of call today were most pleasant. It would be a pleasure to return and see much more of what Stavanger has to offer. As ever, Queen Mary 2 is a wonderful place from which to explore.

Many thanks again for reading, David near the Terrace Bar, aft on Deck 8, where it’s just beginning to cool down.

Day 2 of 7

I shall take it easy today as we head through the North Sea.  Winds from the S E. are light at the moment; earlier this morning, the temperature was given as 21°C.  “That’ll do nicely” I thought to myself.  I suppose that the excitement hadn’t worn off yet; sleeping last night was a challenge.  I did eventually “drop off” but today, I am not really “full of beans.” 

It was interesting at dinner last night.  Two ladies, each with two homes (always an ambition of mine, to have two homes), one in Switzerland and one over here, were on what they called their “maiden voyage.” Yep, they were on their very first cruise.  Both were overwhelmed with the options listed in the Daily Programme and were debating how to fit it all in.  It was inevitable that I would be asked about my cruising history. Now, I remember all too well back in the 1990s being slightly irritated by people who would ask “how many cruises have you done?”  I don’t usually tell “porkies” (lies) but my usual answer would be “I haven’t a clue, I’ve lost count” knowing full well that my total, back then, could be counted on one hand.  But today, I really have lost count!   Being at sea en route for some interesting part of the world has yet to lose its appeal.  While 2023 should see my last multi-month voyage, I rather hope I can enjoy an annual “QM2-fix” for a good number of years, as well as trying out other cruise companies, all excellent in their own individual way. However, despite my modest shareholding with Carnival, I won’t be in a hurry to party along on their family oriented Carnival Cruise Line vessels, which inspire the contradiction, full vessels make the most noise! 

I remain impressed with the  camera on my new phone.  Never before have I photographed an oil rig! Opportunities are aplenty in the North Sea and one ponders in wonder at the engineering and genius of extracting oil from these remote and harsh locations.

Right now, I’m in my element. I have chosen to enjoy lunch in the main restaurant at Table 354, always occupied by Richard C. Faber Jnr, and his numerous invited guests.  I would soon be joined by two couples roughly my age, retirees from illustrious careers. 

After lunch, I ventured to the Queens Room where a superb piano recital of music by Chopin, Brahms, (not and *Liszt!), Mozart, Debussy and Grieg was extremely well attended.  Such fine virtuoso piano playing would grace the most prestigious of venues, anywhere.  *(Brahms and Liszt is Cockney slang for…drunk!)

So far, I have booked two shore experiences, including a recital in the grounds of Grieg’s residence on the outskirts of Bergen. However, I have chosen to do my own thing in Stavanger, tomorrow.  I’m sure the opportunity to travel to Scandinavia will present itself in the not too distant future.

On board, this evening, is the Black and White Gala night at which passengers will don their finest formal wear, the ladies, especially, with their predominantly black and white finery.  This should present no problem for me; my evening attire is nothing but Black and White, except for a couple of colourful bow-ties.

This is the first voyage in many years that I don’t know anybody at all from previous cruises. That is, apart from the “Amethyst” Cunard’s superb resident duo, who I first encountered in 2018. But I have enjoyed the company of several “new” people mainly during various mealtimes. I decided to put on the tuxedo for tonight’s Gala. In lieu of an Officers’ party, presumably curtailed through covid-19, all diners were treated to a glass of “bubbly” to accompany their meal. This happened on previous voyages, but only for the “Black and White Gala Night. I was never a big fan of these get-togethers being a solo traveller. However, other regular guests with Cunard lament the absence of these social gatherings, which I do remember as being well attended and highly enjoyable events.

I completed another 10,000 steps during the day, and before retiring for the night, in the wee small hours of the following morning.

WiFi and the Internet remain patchy on board, especially in the mountainous surrounds of southern Norway. I completed this blog having enjoyed exploring part of Stavanger on a Hop-on Hop-off red bus, as well as on foot. Below are a few pictures captured today.

I have forty minutes to return to the ship, and will write a little more on this extremely pleasant day, in the next blog.

Many thanks for reading, David, 14.56 hrs Stavanger, Norway.

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Day 1 of 7

At a little before 11.30 this morning, after a decent but pancake-less breakfast, and having completed the packing from my overnight stay, Reception found me a taxi, warning me that none would be available at just before my noon ckeck-in time at the Mayflower Cruise Terminal.  I climbed aboard the waiting vehicle and was immediately quoted me 15 quid for the quarter to half mile run.  Really???  Later on, I did wonder if this was some kind of a “set-up.” Then, he took me to two wrong cruise ships! That worked in my favour; I got a glimpse of four of the five ships that were in port today, but not Cunard’s Queen Victoria which remained out of sight.  The taxi driver was of the grumbling variety, just what you need at the start of a celebratory week away, but, I was mentally ill-equipped for any confrontation.  I was amused that he assumed two incorrect cruise ships rather than checking with me. I almost got my 15 quid’s worth!  I keep forgetting that I have the Uber App on my phone!

I have now, joined those in the Priority Booking area at the MayflowerTerminal, and as the place fills up, I realise once again that I am not really one of an exclusive clientele.  I am tempted to take a couple of casual photographs!  An attractive blonde called us “in order” to proceed to Security thus: “Would Queens Grill Guests proceed to Security.” All the Queens Grill passengers (those in the most expensive seats) stood promptly, some appearing slightly uncomfortable that the “rest of the world” could take a momentary glance at those who had dug the deepest into their wallets.  Shortly afterwards, Princess Grill, then Diamond World Club Members would be called up, followed almost immediately by Platinum, Gold, and Silver World ClubMembers (those who had sailed with Cunard, just once previously) who were then given permission to head for Security.   Security isn’t quite as viscous as at international airports.  Nevertheless, all things metal detectable needed to be stashed in the hand luggage which, itself, would go through the scanner.  That included the belt which keeps my trousers from half mast.  I walked through the arch scanner (my terminology) and it didn’t bleep. 

Thus I was on my way to boarding, where numerous immaculate bellboys would either welcome guests on board, or would appear to recognise me and say “welcome back!”  Ye Gods! It is brilliant to be back on here yet again!   I found my stateroom almost midships on the Starboard side, with my sheltered balcony facing the quayside.  The sky is “north of England grey” but it still remains warm.

I have explored my cabin, and I do have to concede that although clean, neat and tidy, the six years of intensive use (apart from during the pandemic) seems to have taken its toll.  The Daily Programme has either been discontinued, not issued yet, or been missed by me on my first look around the room.  But it was good to be on board before 1 o’clock and ensconced in a window alcove in the Kings Court with a small plate of noodles, rice and stir-fried vegetables. 

Outside, the Promenade Deck beckons and already I am wondering whether to set a steps target for perhaps another Christian Aid fundraising challenge. In fact, I have just decided on my efforts for Christian Aid Week 2023, namely, One Million Steps on and Between Four Continents.    Those four continents are all except North and South America, as well as the one I’m not overly keen on visiting, Antarctica!  And I am starting today 4th September until midnight 10th September 2022, then continuing from January 11th until April 22nd 2023.

I enjoyed my return to the Kings Court for a pre-cruise lunch.  “Replete with an amplitude of sufficiency, I said to myself, “let’s resume The Challenge, and start walking around the Promenade Deck…” – yet again.  It’s lovely and warm out there, despite the rather overcast skies.    The easiest way to support my efforts this year is to Google David Nevell Buxton.  At the moment, this is the first item entitled “One Million Steps on Two Continents – Christian Aid.”  The last day for donations is Tuesday 8th November when I have arranged to give an illustrated account of my earlier travels this year at the Church Centre on Bath Road, Buxton.   Tickets will be available at a price of your choosing; the same applies to entry at the door.

I am back in my stateroom right now.  Daily Programmes do exist, but mine has yet to arrive.  The Purser’s Office has assured me one will be delivered.  After going down to my stateroom and checking a few things, I returned to Deck 7 determined to get a few laps in.  As you can see, much of the starboard side is blocked off for routine maintenance.

It’s obviously possible to divert inside, at least, I would think so.  My Daily Programme was eventually delivered and I ascertained that my dinner reservation was at 20.15 hrs in the Britannia Restaurant close to the tapestry.

It’s now 16.20 hrs.  Grey skies have morphed to blue, the sun is out, it is warm, and five ships remain in port. 

I am informed that immediately to our stern, Norwegian Star is berthed.  Ye Gods! I was on that ship in 2006 for a most pleasant cruise from San Pedro, California to  Acapulco non stop, returning, calling at several ports along the way.  Behind is Royal Caribbean’s Anthem of the Seas; a little further away is P&O’s Britannia and in the distance, Cunard’s Queen Victoria, which my “rip- off” taxi driver told me it was Queen Elizabeth.  QV, I am told, is off to Greece.  I’m not sure about Britannia and Norwegian Star.  But, Anthem of the Seas also heads for the sun-drenched Mediterranean. 

Rarely are there five ships in Southampton in one day. To see three departing almost simultaneously at around 17.00 hrs was quite spectacular.

There was no fanfare when Queen Mary 2 slipped her moorings, not even a jubilant blast of the ship’s siren. Whistles were exchanged between Queen Mary 2 and Britannia as we sailed by the Ocean Cruise Terminal.

I joined four others for dinner tonight in the Britannia Restaurant. We had never met; however, we all enjoyed each other’s company and were almost the last to leave the restaurant. It was far too late to go to the movie or attend the show. After dinner, I was determined to achieve my first 10,000 steps of this voyage. This I did despite the time on my phone switching between time zones, i.e. between 23.XX hrs and an hour later. After midnight, the steps for the next day start from zero. Right now, the time reads 00. 57hrs. In fact, it’s approaching 2am, and I really should get my head down. While walking around the ship, the spectacular thunderstorm which had been forecast for the south of England could be seen at a distance from the stern of the ship. Above, the stars shone brightly from a pristine night sky.

This was a good first day. We are already too far into Day 2/7. Time for some kip. Many thanks for reading, David, 01.08 BST 02.08 hrs CET.

This is becoming a bit of a habit.  All of a sudden, it seems, after the usual last minute panic  packing, I am on my way, this time by train, to Southampton where a hopefully comfortable night at the Novotel awaits.  I have opted to travel in the Cross Country version of British Rail’s “Weekend First” which if I remember rightly, was introduced at just a quid, back in the early 1980s.   Of course, being popular, the weekend cost to upgrade soon increased in frequent increments to today’s average of around £25 depending on distance and Train Operating Company.

By now, after numerous adventures to some far flung corners of the world, over many years, the chore of packing and making sure you have all the required documentation should become increasingly straightforward.  It doesn’t seem to. However, when “my neighbour over the road” called just after 1 o’clock this afternoon, I was ready, but still “panicking!”   And there’s that persistent nagging doubt, even on the train, that I have overlooked something of great importance.

I haven’t bothered to acquire a wadge of Norwegian Currency.  I doubt whether the shops in Bergen will accept U.S Currency.   My replaced credit card should do nicely, especially as Non Stirling Transatlantic charges are “waived.”   We have just left Birmingham New Street; the sun is coming out at long last, and uncharacteristically for me, I accepted a glass of wine from four fun loving ladies sitting close by, on their way to a Mediterranean Cruise on board Anthem of the Seas.  This is their first cruise and I was able to assure them that the good time they were having on the train would just get better.

All too soon, we were pulling into Southampton Central, and I was making my way across the “dangerous” road adjacent to the Down Platform at Southampton, along a footpath next to a shopping complex car park, straight to my hotel.  I have stayed here a few times but for some reason, tonight, I am slightly disappointed.  Perhaps it is because I am not entitled to the loyalty points having booked on-line.  I then, just after 8 o’clock, went down for dinner.  There was a queue at the entrance, and a “run-off-her-feet” waitress explained that right now, the restaurant was fully booked, and that those already seated were waiting up to 45 minutes for their meal.  I made the mistake of reading some of the reviews, many of which were “1 star.”  But not all of them. However, the receptionists and other personnel frequently came in for praise, and certainly, I had no problem checking in, except again, there was a queue.  Eventually, I tried the nearby TGI Fridays eatery, from what I gather, established in Higher Manhattan.  Chicken, beautifully cooked, with rocket and French fries was followed by a coffee. This did the trick. 

I am excited for this time tomorrow, I shall have settled into my 4 deck sheltered balcony cabin, and maybe coming to the end of dinner on board Queen Mary 2.  The blogs should become more interesting and (hopefully) enjoyable as this enormous vessel becomes dwarfed by the might of southern Norway’s towering fjords.  What a way to spend a week.

Sunday 4th September enjoying breakfast with a view of Southampton Police Station!

Behind the “cop-shop” one can see QM2 lurking behind small trees and containers.  That is the view from my 4th floor bedroom.

The 1 star reviews do not really reflect my stay here.  And I don’t think standards have dropped since I first came here, I think, three years ago. That the pancakes had run out (as mentioned in at least one review) was no big deal.  Nor was I concerned about the 70s artexing of the walls and ceilings, especially welcome when your back is itching!  The oversized bed was extremely comfortable and I slept well last night.  In a bad mood, I would rate the hotel 4 stars and have little patience with those seeking to find fault.  Half a star is lost due to (I think) understaffing of the restaurant causing it not to be able to be full, and rather long waits for service.  I firmly believe the pandemic to be still a part of the problem and will be for a long time to come, not only here, but throughout any of service industries…er…. railways included. The other half star is down to something outside the hotel’s control i.e. exuberant guests. Many, I learn are on their way to the Mediterranean on board Anthem of the Seas. Soundproofing doesn’t seem to work very well here. But by the time I got my head down last night, the doors had stopped slamming and distant conversation replaced by an eerie silence. Apart from being reminded of my nocturnal need for “comfort stops,” I slept well.

My home for the next seven nights awaits at the Mayflower Cruise Terminal. All I need to do now is to partially re-pack and head to the quayside.

Many thanks for reading, David, 10.44 hrs, Room 414, a well known hotel in Southampton.

25th August, “Resurrection.”

Last night, Sir Simon Rattle realised his life long ambition to conduct the London Symphony Orchestra in a performance of Mahler’s Symphony No 2 in C minor The Resurrection. This would be the first concert, post-pandemic with massed choirs, which, in this performance totalled 297, not including the soloists. If I remember rightly, according to the Radio 3 announcer, Sir Simon Rattle first heard this work as an eleven (or twelve) year old at a concert in Liverpool.  That event inspired his entire future and in a previous century, he would be up there with Sir Thomas Beecham, Sir Adrian Boult, et-al.  I had been looking forward to this concert for a number of days; I had first heard this symphony while still figuring life out at primary school, possibly aged 10.  At that time, a Mahler symphony offered “good value.”  Usually well over an hour with plenty of melody, noise, quietness, gorgeous harmony, singing, and in the case of Symphonies 2 and 8, huge choirs.  And at 73 years of age, Mahler’s Resurrection still clogs up my throat with a huge lump, especially at the finale during which one cannot fail to believe in God.

You couldn’t make it up!   I had spent the day at home, nursing my gammy knee, preparing food, doing bits of paperwork here and there, and spending “short” periods in front of the telly.  When the ads came on, I would flick over to ad-free YouTube. Then miss the start of the next part of the programme I was watching originally.  Yesterday evening, it was time to do my accounts, a four weekly exercise I carry out when my pension has been received.  I looked at my watch…”Gosh and darn it!” (This is a family blog!) “It’s nearly 8 o’clock; I’ve missed the beginning of the Mahler.”  I leaned over from what was my father’s desk to the Hacker radio/record player which, again, my father had purchased new in 1972, along with small Wharfdale speakers.  It still works, 50 years later!   I had finished my accounts and could plunge my room into darkness and enjoy what remained of the Mahler symphony; I had just caught the closing bars of the second movement, and one fear was that, as I settled down in the darkness of my archive-strewn bedroom…the phone would ring!  That didn’t happen and I was able to indulge in the welter of sound, that is Mahler’s Resurrection Symphony, in the purposely pessimistic key of C minor!

Blog 828A. London revisited.

William Cowper penned the famous hymn, God Moves in Mysterious Ways His Wonders do Perform (I think that’s correct) apparently following a fit of deep depression during which he decided to “end it all.” More than one person has told me the account of his hiring a horse and carriage to take him to the River Thames into which he would jump, presumably from London Bridge. A pea-souper of a mist descended, the cab driver became disorientated and hopelessly lost, telling William Cowper “I cannot do any more for you.” and dropped him off somewhere in the thick swirling fog.  Perhaps the eminent poet and hymnwriter breathed a sigh of relief.  By some strange coincidence, he had been dropped off right opposite where he lived, inspiring the famous hymn whose first line is often quoted when something out of the ordinary occurs.

Quite why I awoke at 3am this morning only to lie awake until it was time to get up, only Him upstairs knows!  My trip to London had to be rearranged twice not only because of industrial unrest, but also severe staff shortages as a result of the pandemic.  Being a Bank Holiday weekend, heavy engineering work meant no trains from Macclesfield.  No problem; I could drive to Chesterfield or even Crewe.  Huge roadworks at Baslow, on the way to Chesterfield, meant possible heavy delays to an already fairly long drive.  I did decide that I would set off uncharacteristically (for me) early to avoid or negate any delay.  When I did get up at around 06.40, having eyes like housebricks, I felt that driving, perhaps 90 minutes to Chesterfield to be rather unwise.  Surely the 07.34 train from Buxton would connect reasonably with a southbound service.  It did, and although still feeling heavy-eyed, and wondering whether I would last the day, I decided not to cancel for a third time.  That the train, being diverted via Crewe and Alsager would take three hours to get to London instead of two, and while not actually sleeping on the journey, a strong coffee and a wrap sandwich would revive me sufficiently to enjoy my first trip to London in well over 2 and a half years.  And I would see attractive parts of London that I had never seen in my life.  The river walks around Paddington were beyond magnificent.  From being a child, I have always liked London.  The Capital remains as exciting, today, as it did when my parents would take me as a small boy, usually to visit relatives.  But Father did make a point of taking me to some of the important sights, even St. Paul’s Cathedral where I had to forego a performance of Tchaikovsky’s Hymn to the Trinity, being sung at Evensong, just when the train home was due to leave!  I must have been almost in my teens; I had only become familiar with that work during my very unsuccessful stint in the church choir, before my voice broke.  I’m not there yet, but I now see no cause or just impediment why I shouldn’t be home at a civilised hour, hopefully before the Prom ends on Radio 3.  Yep, God does Move in Weird and Mysterious Ways, but as we draw  into Stoke on Trent, I’m hoping for continued Wonders to Perform so that I can get home in reasonable time!

19.30 hrs. On the diversionary route between Stoke on Trent and Crewe.

Somewhere beyond the trees, a magnificent sunset is occurring.  And already, we have passed Crewe, and are hurtling towards Wilmslow and Stockport. 

05.24 hrs Back safely at home.

There was half hour at Stockport before the final leg of my journey back to Buxton.  Outside the station in some recently built and unfamiliar complex, Sainsbury’s was open and had a reasonable selection of sandwiches on offer.  It was well past 8pm, and apart from a home-made muffin, the sustaining effects of that magnificent lunch in Kensington had more less worn off, and I was feeling quite hungry.  I purchased just enough to keep me going, and enjoyed the ham and cheese roll.  I couldn’t have needed much else; inadvertently, I left on the train at Buxton, a pasta dish and small pot of fruit salad which I intended to enjoy at home while listening to the final offerings of the night’s Promenade Concert on Radio 3.  A bowl of porridge with fruit and yoghurt stood in for what I left behind on the train.

I do hope that waking up in the middle of the night for a second time, and not being able to get back to sleep again isn’t going to become the new “new norm” as in days past.  I did enjoy my long awaited return to London, especially seeing areas of which I was completely unfamiliar.  I’m sure I could live there quite happily and enjoy the continual choice of world class arts and entertainments almost on the doorstep.  But I still feel as if I have the best of both worlds, especially when the trains are running normally.  Whether that will be the case post-pandemic remains to be seen.  I had travelled down (or up) to London on an Avanti West Coast refurbished Pendolino in the recently introduced Premium Standard Class, which is First Class without the catering.  I was impressed.  Catering, which has to be paid for, can be ordered via an app on your phone; this saves walking perhaps eight coaches to the Shop in Coach C.  There is ample table space, and sockets in which to plug phones and laptops.  It never occurred to me to bring a spare lead so that I could charge my phone battery.  Standard Class remains as claustrophobic as when the Pendolinos first entered service, but the new winged seats appear to be a little more comfortable. I have at least two more trips to London before the end of the year.  In October, I shall be taken to Kensington Palace.  We couldn’t go yesterday because it turned out there were no facilities for leaving wheeled bags.  I had brought one just in case I needed to stay overnight.  The return from London was in an unrefurbished Pendolino, and looked “very tired.”   Nevertheless, although three hours instead of two, the journey felt extremely efficient, and yes, I enjoyed the detour going back.  Avanti have come in for some harsh criticism especially with major cutback in services.  I imagine that such (hopefully) temporary cuts would have been inevitable  whoever was running the Train Operating Company.  Covid-19 still has much to answer for. 

It is now 06.19 hrs, and I feel wide awake.  I shall, however, try for another hour’s kip, and then get up at my preferred time of 10am!

The next thing I knew, it was after 9 o’clock, and now, I feel rejuvenated.

Many thanks for reading, David, 10.03hrs in my untidy bedroom.

Sunday August 21st, Taj Mahal Restaurant, Buxton.

You couldn’t make it up.  Next Saturday, I am scheduled to travel to London for the first time since December 2019 when few had heard of the coronavirus.  And the following Saturday, I travel to Southampton in readiness for boarding Queen Mary 2 as she continues her three week voyage from New York to Norway.  So yesterday, I ventured into Buxton to make train enquiries for both next Saturday and the Saturday after.  There was room at the station to park comfortably. The ticket office was locked, and a young lady waiting for her father reminded me that there was a strike, and went on to complain bitterly about Train Drivers. Actually, it wasn’t the Train Drivers who were on strike; seemingly it was more or less everybody else!  I kept “schtum” about my previous career!   But I did concede that I sided with striking Starbucks workers at a rally in Seattle!

I had little else to do in town, but I remembered that there was a major event taking place in the nearby Pavilion Gardens.  I thought I might venture to where the sound was coming from, a bit like I did in Chicago.  Continued Monay 22nd August 13.00hrs outside Buxton Station. “Of course!” I remembered. “Eat in The Park” an event now in its second year was taking place over the weekend. With all sorts of cleverly erected railings, it was hard to access, a bit like the festival in Chicago’s Millennium Park. Perhaps as far a size is concerned, Buxton cannot compete. Also, Chicago’s festival spans around three months with hot summer nights more or less guaranteed. But the atmosphere and organisation at Buxton was hard to beat – anywhere. Although I paid for two days, I just spent one full afternoon and part of an evening soaking up the atmosphere and coming across people who recognised me from my D.J-ing days of the early 1980s. All of a sudden, I felt as if I was back in my early thirties…that is until I stood up to walk anywhere. My right knee reminded me of my late 40s date of birth!

Second time lucky at the Station?

The trains are running normally today, but, the ticket office is closed, thankfully only for the duration of a lunchtime break. That provides opportunity to continue my blog. It wasn’t long before the office was manned and I was able to make enquiries for both my journeys to London and Southampton. It seems covid-19 and industrial unrest has had an effect “on the trains.” Strangely, Macclesfield retains its hourly service to London. That’s the good news. Now, the bad news. Next Saturday, the journey to London starts with a bus ride to Stoke-on-Trent, then a heavily diverted service to Euston…4 to 5 hours. Thankfully, Chesterfield, 25 miles away offers two trains per hour without diversions for track maintenance. So, I should be able to get London next Saturday with little problem. The following Saturday, travelling from Buxton to Manchester Piccadilly e.g. on the 09.59 gets me to Manchester Piccadilly in good time for the train to Southampton. Being a weekend, there is no point in booking a First Class seat as upgrading from Standard Class at the weekend comes in at £20.00. As I still enjoy limited complimentary Standard Class rail travel as a retiree from the Industry, I don’t begrudge this upgrade. I am now looking forward to a week on Saturday! But I dread coming home on Sunday after a week of scenic relaxation in the Norwegian fjords. There are no direct services from Southampton. Coming back via Newport in Wales takes 8 hours to Buxton, returning via London is three hours less, but involves crossing London, which perhaps Mr. Uber might handle quite nicely. Now, I’ve only just this minute thought of this; I could descend on my sister-in-law and families on the Isle of Wight. Yep, I could book my favourite room (26 if I remember rightly) at Yelf’s Hotel and then come home during the following week. There’s nothing quite like Great Uncle David landing, almost unexpectedly, like a pterodactyl on the tranquil routines of contented family life on the Isle of Wight! Actually, such a visit is long overdue. I’ll give it some thought. And with tongue mischievously lodged in cheek, I close today’s blog, and as ever, offer my thanks for reading.

David, 15.00hrs Hargreaves’ Tea Rooms, Buxton, where for some reason, background music on a jumping CD is mandatory! Otherwise this remains an excellent establishment with lots of Buxton memorabilia to enjoy, displayed in Edwardian glass cabinets.

I remember well the legendry summer of 1976, all of 46 years ago.  The move to what is still my home was just a year previously and even the summer of 75, after a devastating fall of snow on June 2nd, was quite presentable, unlike the miserable summers that would follow, year in year out, possibly owing to the eruption of Mt. St. Helens’ I think, in 1981.  In 1976, I’m not sure when the countryside started to turn a shade of brown, the sort of thing one sees on the Continent or further afield.  There was the hosepipe ban…I never used a hosepipe in my life!  The heatwave persisted into mid September, and broke the very day I went with Mum and Dad on holiday to South Wales.  The day before was up there in the 30s but my prayer for just a few more days was not granted.  In Breconshire, where we “returned” for the first time since 1959, the temperature felt as if in the low teens Celsius and the Almighty was most generous with the lashings of ice-cold horizontal rain, delivered from clouds as black as charcoal.  I don’t recall blistering hot summers prior to 1976; my childhood memories are of much more varied weather, but usually pleasant enough during the summer holidays.  Father always knew how to make enjoyable summer holidays for all the family. We would choose quite often to do our own thing on some days, and explore as family at other times.  We would always travel by train…never in First Class!  But the journeys would be an adventure in themselves.  My brother was the railway enthusiast, I (for some unknown reason) got excited about buses! 

A big chunk of my life has now passed, I stretched my railway career as long as I was able to, retiring at 68.  it was my brother who had initiated what would become a life-long interest in railways after taking me to Crewe when I was 11 years of age.  The Anglo Scottish and other trains passing through were like some kind of spectacular historic cavalcade, and my appetite for “all things trains” established forever. 

Tuesday 16th August.

It’s probably a good thing that this isn’t the “summer of 76” and that this week, it has cooled down to something more pleasant and manageable, rather than 46 years ago when one wondered if a second ice-age had arrived! 

Already, I feel that my efforts to garner financial support for Christian Aid Week 2022 has been worthwhile. Scroll back a few blogs and you will find accounts of my travels this year which played a major part in making my fundraising efforts a unique event. And, if you don’t live too far from Buxton, do come along on November 8th to the Church Centre on Bath Road when I shall share my travels with hopefully, a capacity audience. Apart from an autumnal “QM2 fix” to Norway, I shall be at home much of the time reacquainting myself with the vagaries of PowerPoint and other less familiar hi-tech stuff. November 8th is when I finish the fund raising, and “gammy knee” permitting, I shall seek to plan what I may do in 2023. Unbelievably, it is less than five months before I forsake the winter climes of North Derbyshire for something a bit more palatable as I revisit among other places, Kangaroo Island, yep, the one on the other side of the world. In the meantime, if inspired to add to donate or sponsor me for my completed Challenge, the JustGiving link can be accessed via Google. Type in David Nevell, Buxton, and the details should be the second item. Contact me first if you would like further details. My e-mail address is QM2@sky.com

Thursday 18th June

Maybe I spoke too soon! It’s becoming decidedly cooler outside. However, I have bitten the bullet and upgraded my phone to one which will take even better photographs. No, that doesn’t mean I will be a better photographer; what it does mean is that I can “zoom in” with much less deterioration in picture quality. My lovely little Lumix camera doesn’t become redundant, however. In three weeks, I have a quick trip to the Norwegian fjords which I last saw as a thirteen year-old with Mum and Dad, in 1962. I would like to think that I may come back with some masterpieces! In January, two Cunard ships set sail on their World Voyages. I would have indulged, but 2022/23 marks the Centenary of the very first Round the World cruise of just one ship. American Express chartered Cunard’s brand new Laconia for this (I think) 138 night voyage from New York. I haven’t a clue how much survives from that voyage of almost a hundred years ago. However, two bundles from two passengers on that original voyage have found their way to Buxton! These documents represent a fascinating “window” of social history from which I continue to derive much interest.

I was rather pleased to drop down to St. John’s Church this morning and assist the Churchwarden with some routine tasks. On Sunday, the morning service is a rare Choral Mattins, almost like the morning services I remember as a teenager. I would like to think this may become a regular event, and welcomed by the congregation, whether regular or casual/visiting.

I see that, although I have not written recently, my blog page receives a small number of visitors. I hope therefore that this blog doesn’t disappoint.

Many thanks for reading, David, at home, 15.34hrs 18/8/22.

I spotted 4 “typos” when reading the published blog 824. Blog 824 has been amended and can be accessed e.g. via Google on http://www.davidscruise.wordpress.com