David's Cruise

What a lovely day, at last. (Day 9). Yet, I couldn’t really get myself motivated. The usual comedy sketches and videos which I receive via WhatsApp or e-mail, are in fact very clever and amusing. Nevertheless, the news remains correspondingly grim as yet again, a record numbers continue to die of Coronavirus.

I started this blog on Saturday, got distracted, continued on Sunday, got distracted again; third day lucky?  Today is 6th April and had Mother still been alive, she would have been receiving her fifth birthday card from The Queen!  There’s no signal on my phone right now.

The warmth promised for the weekend did materialise, although I am far from convinced we enjoyed temperatures of 20 degrees Celsius. Nevertheless, yesterday was particularly pleasant; I got to talk to a couple of neighours on the Lane, albeit keeping at, at least, my prescribed distance. I continue to adjust to self isolation, which, as long as the deliveries continue to work out, I can, at the moment, live with. However, it won’t be long before I will regret not booking a second hair cut while on board ship. I had left it far too late to make an appointment!

According to guidelines, I am allowed to take an hour’s exercise in the vicinity of where I live. (That’s more than enough!) And there seems to be no objection to very occasional shopping. This may be necessary if the phone signal doesn’t materialise.

As a “time-filler” I have re- acquainted myself with YouTube.  The videos they offer seem hand picked, more than likely based on data collected from my eBay dealings, and connections with the rail and cruise industries. Fairly recently, I went to see Steeleye Span at the Buxton Opera House and Maddy Prior with the Carnival Band at Doncaster. I can now tune into full live concerts of both, as well as watch vintage train and ship movies. Two days ago, I watched part of a 1964 episode of Coronation Street in which Martha Longhurst dropped dead in the Rovers Return!  Even today, it remained a poignant and very well produced episode; I remember watching this at the age of 15, shortly after Mum and Dad conceded to renting a television!  That same 15 year old would celebrate his 71st birthday cruising along the Chilean coast, 56 years later!  Also in 1964, I saw the Rolling Stones with a young Deirdre (“D-D”) Vesco at the Manchester Odeon. I still have the ticket stub and the programme…a wonderful artefact of social history.

It’s healthy, I think, to hark back to previous times, occasionally, but not get too stuck in nostalgia. Right now, Boris Johnson finds himself in intensive care. While not a fan, I am alarmed; all of a sudden, the man leading the country through an unprecedented crisis, and I think, doing remarkably well, is himself feeling very fearful, ‘though, he would never show it. Apparently, the peak of this dreadful pandemic should be in around 10 days. That may be the case, but I won’t speculate if and when things will be as they were before January 10th, the day I left these shores until just over a week ago.

To all those following my writings efforts, thanks for reading, and to everybody, stay safe and very best wishes, David 01.14hrs 7/4/20.

So far, so good; no aches pain or fever. I have been home a week now, and not yet, have I become bored. The days fly by, partly because I sleep like a teenager and get up when I like! Actually, today is slightly different, I was awake just before 7 am, but lay in until “something past eight.”

My plan for today was to spruce up the kitchen which I carried out late this afternoon, and thankfully, downstairs is much more organised now. I was in touch with my sister, Mary, and brother-in-law Bob, husband2 of my late sister Helene, and still living in Wood Green.

I am beginning to question the wisdom of writing every day. I didn’t go out at all today. Two NHS front line nurses, both in their thirties, and each with three children, succumbed to the evil virus. The message on various TV programmes, was rammed home, “stay at home, protect the NHS, save lives” This really needs stopping in its numerous tracks. Record deaths were announced in the 24 hours leading to the broadcast from Downing Street. I am now coming to terms with the level of seriousness of this pandemic; I had done several weeks ago, but had difficulty “taking it on board.” I confessed to my sister that I was feeling very uncomfortable with the situation. She replied “you and everybody else throughout the world!” “Of course!” I thought to myself.

Once again, it is fast approaching 01.00 hrs; the days go so quickly. Therefore it’s goodnight from me. As with all these blogs, I include illustrations from my recent travels; these my be of some interest…they are to me!

Thanks for reading, David, 3/3/20.

This time last week, I was almost at sixes and sevens, preparing for disembarkation the next day. The morning was glorious as we sailed towards Southampton, passing the Isle of Wight, very visible from the port side of the ship. Portsmouth appeared opposite. Soon, we would be in Southampton, but, those who wished to, could stay for one or two nights, or leave the ship during Thursday afternoon for an early arrival back home. I suspect this might have been a move by Cunard to stave off claims of compensation for the voyage terminating two days early. Was all that merely a week ago? A Cruise Connect coach to Knutsford on the Friday influenced my decision to stay just one further night on board. The coach connection the following day was perfect.

One week on, and this whole voyage seems like a distant dream. That is usually the case when the reality of being back home “kicks in” usually after a day or so when the continued sensation of the ship’s movement subsides, eventually.

Nobody, anywhere, can anticipate when this pandemic will be completely over, if ever. Today, I received an e-mail which had been sent to probably one of the three people I am in touch with daily through WhatsApp. It was from a front line NHS worker describing in no uncertain terms, the horrendous realities of working in a virus ridden environment, and how very hot and claustrophobic the protective clothing is to wear, as well as the patients being utterly terrified of their situation. This e-mail was rather sobering in comparison to many of the extremely humorous sketches which really do lighten the day.

Amazingly people do get in touch mainly to have a natter and check that I am ok. This I appreciate enormously, and hopefully, I may get the opportunity to help others as I have been helped. But as the e-mail I mentioned pleaded, “please stay at home!” and I do. That is probably the best advice, as well as talk to people over the ‘phone. Writing this blog, I feel is important; in future times, it might provide some insight into what’s happening right now. Other writings will be far better, but I will endeavour to put in more detail as time progresses.

Outside, the still cool and dry weather has morphed into something less pleasant, a bit of blue sky, strong winds and a shower or two. Parsimonious warmth is hinted at for the weekend. No walking today then. I have almost finished the unpacking and down stairs can soon be tidied up.

All of a sudden, it’s past midnight. Not a lot of change today. Let’s see what Friday brings, one week after getting home. Thanks for reading, David, 00.21, Friday 3rd April 2020.

Scroll back to Day34. Also already illustrated, but will be re-compiled, the following blog, reviewing the trip to Iguassu Falls. There are around 44 further blogs to which to add photographs. This takes around 20 minutes per blog. David: 23.29hrs

I don’t mean to write uninspiring and negative blogs, but neither do I intend to be flippant in these weird times we are all coming to terms with. I learn, with horror, of those caught up in lock-downs around the world, for each individually, an unfathomable crisis of their own.

Last night, I ventured out for a brief stroll along the lane. I figured all might feel more normal in the light of the following afternoon.  I did walk further today but despite talking to a one or two people as I meandered around, there is no escape from the virus situation sweeping the world.  Another 563 died of the virus since yesterday. I did enjoy the fresh air, and seeing the spring flowers in people’s gardens and elsewhere.

My morning was very much like all those since arrival home on Friday, I crawl out of bed, do a few things, get up eventually and then wonder how the day passed so quickly. I am surrounded by kindness which is extremely heart warming. People have been in touch almost immediately I arrived home and three neighours have offered help with shopping and other errands. I prepare fresh meals once or twice a day with the more than adequate food which several people deliver. I have almost finished unpacking and with luck, my place will again be as “spick-&-span,” the way I found it on Friday.

My intention is to re-explore the interesting nooks and crannies around where I live, without using the car. I did all this once before while recovering from open heart surgery. The weather forecast does not inspire. Oh! for some unseasonable warmth!

All the best, David. 22.46hrs.

For the first time, I took my allotted exercise this evening, 31st March. I didn’t walk far, it was dark and eerie, and I feel much more within my comfort zone inside my house. However, tomorrow, I shall make the effort in daylight hours, now that I am becoming accustomed to these strange and tragic circumstances. I called Freda tonight, a lady in her eighties still struggling to come to terms with what still feels like a fairly recent bereavement. In normal times, she looks down from her window to see a flow of traffic and people around, enjoying what the centre of the town has to offer. Friends, including me, would call frequently.

I did have some idea what I might be coming home to last Friday afternoon, (Day 1), but hadn’t a clue what it might be like in reality. At the moment, I have all the food I need for several days. The heating works normally, and the TV schedule appears little altered apart from detailed and lengthy updates on the COVID 19 situation. I am extremely fortunate; I had travelled to “The End of the World” (Ushuaia) and all sorts of exotic far away places, and “got away with it.” I didn’t find myself confined to my cabin with no fresh air, for days on end, as people on other cruise ships had done. I didn’t become stranded in any of the far-away places I enjoyed visiting, and a brand new coach was waiting right next to the ship in Southampton, to take me and a few others close to where we live. The arranged taxi showed up in very good time, and soon, I was at my home, freshly spring- cleaned by the firm who take care of the house work and laundry; all there was for me to do was to settle back in and arrange further food and other “essentials” delivery.

Apart from a “curiosity ” drive around Buxton the evening after I arrived home, I had not left the house until tonight (Day 5). We are allowed only essential shopping as infrequently as possible, and one session of exercise each day. On board ship, I had the run of almost all of the public areas on the vessel. I don’t think there was a day I walked less than a mile; I will check! Tonight, I left the house and ventured into the dimly lit lane outside. I didn’t feel inspired to go far. The houses were lit, far more than seemed usual, when I have done night walks before. And yes, I could hear distant conversation. But, for the first time, I couldn’t call on anybody, and nobody is allowed to call on me. Given the present situation, I have no cause for complaint whatsoever.

It is Hannah’s birthday today, a lady I had the immense pleasure of meeting last year on Queen Mary 2. Her parents called with presents, but social distancing brought home the seriousness of what the whole world is experiencing albeit at different levels. I can’t stay with my sister, and even hotels are not welcoming other than essential workers. And going out for my permitted walk, at last, I think I am beginning to comprehend and take on board, the enormity of this scary situation. In modern parlance, “I need to get out more!”

Thanks for reading, David 22.18 31/3/20.

(Written 00.40 hrs Monday morning.)

It felt very eerie on the coach journey from the port of Southampton to the motorway service station coach and lorry park at Knutsford on Friday 27th March. A taxi which I ordered en route picked me up not long after arrival at Knutsford. I had been surprised by the amount of traffic travelling home from the south, although it was much lighter than it usually is. Lorry traffic was more in abundance than private car traffic.

Monday 30th March. 22.15 hrs. I am getting myself used to the now global situation which is impacting just about everybody. It could be worse. It is for those affected by the pandemic and the friends and families of the increasing numbers of casualties.

At the moment, supermarkets and pharmacies remain open. Almost everywhere else is closed, even the churches on Sunday. I may have to wait months for an already overdue haircut! Fortunately, most food is in reasonable supply, and I had my first delivery today, from the excellent company who until very recently, cleaned my house. For the time being, I now have to do my own housework, but instead, I can have laundry and shopping taken care of. Also, the Church is very willing to help, which I am extremely impressed with, and very grateful for. There are no power-cuts, yet, and within reason, it is still possible to get around, but only as absolutely necessary.

The days seem to pass very quickly, and I have not yet completed my unpacking, read the post, or started my daily exercises. I have slept well, and am rested satisfactorily. Tomorrow or Wednesday, the fish man will call to offer me more fresh produce. You see, there’s no more going out for a meal, although restaurants will deliver locally. I still have much exploring to carry out.

My travel agent rang me to discuss my big world trip from mid August to early October. For about a year, I have been planning what might have been a “grand finale” of world travel. I would fulfill my ambition to cross the United States by train from New York to Chicago, Seattle and Vancouver. Decent hotels are booked with breakfast included throughout which is a rarity for North American hotels. I have the best accommodation on all the trains, and to begin with, one of those nice single cabins on Deck 2 of Cunard’s Flagship, Queen Mary 2. I have booked a balcony cabin for the 38 nights (39 days) of unbelievable scenic cruising in Alaska and across to Japan. I have been downgraded from First to Business Class on a lunchtime flight back from Tokyo to Heathrow. Will the virus be extinct by August? This particular arrangement cannot be postponed to the following year, although something similar may be possible in the future. But at the moment, my main concern is staying at home in an effort to ride out the pandemic as best I can.

My friend Freda now rings me most nights. Before the pandemic, and the start of my South America voyage, I would visit Freda, frequently, in her central Buxton apartment with close up views of the Opera House and iconic surroundings. Now, I can’t even cadge a coffee from my neighour over the road. But, I do find that I am on the ‘phone for much of the daytime. I made a start on the unpacking today; right now, the house is a tip, made worse by the recent and completely unexpected collapse of a bookshelf in my bedroom!

Tomorrow is Hannah’s birthday. We encountered each other on a transatlantic crossing last year on Queen Mary 2 at the start of yet another amazing journey, and remain in touch. I will sing “Happy Birthday” twice while washing my hands, an idea suggested by the “much revered” Boris Johnson. That poor bloke’s got the virus, but at the moment, he remains our “much loved” leader. Contractee Prince Charles seems to be making a recovery from Covid 19, and will soon cease self isolating. There’s hope for me, he is older than I am!

Here are some pictures of recent normal days….in South America!

Note, I have not yet started adding illustrations to my original blogs yet. I plan to continue writing daily during which I shall include some “holiday snaps”. I will let you know when I have started amending my original unillustrated blogs with appropriate pictures. Thanks for reading, David. 00.15 Tuesday 31st March.

When we left Southampton on the evening of January 10th, a massive and spectacular fireworks display heralded the start of the Queen Victoria South America Voyage 2020.

Queen Mary 2 also set sail somewhat behind schedule on her World Voyage,  south – eastwards towards the Mediterranean, Asia and Australia.

As we headed west, and QM2 in the opposite direction, it wasn’t long before we were aware of a nasty virus developing in the far east. There were rumours that QM2 had missed several ports of call as a result. For once, I felt I had chosen the right voyage, a journey which would almost circumnavigate South America.

I am home now, back from a most wonderful and massive journey, the memories of which will stand me in good stead for the months of self isolation I shall be joining the rest of humanity to endure and maybe come to terms with. Before I start the long process off inserting illustrations into previous blogs, here is a brief “album” of some of the voyage to South America.

Thanks for reading, David The early hours of Monday 30th March 2020.

Note: This blog (below) is the last relating to the QV 2020 South America Voyage. This will be the first you come to having accessed my blog address. Each of the 79 days have been documented; the first few blogs are illustrated. Scroll back to Day 1 for a complete acount of the voyage, and further back for accounts of other events, and right back for the 2018 QM2 World Voyage. Not a bad thing to do in these day of self isolation.

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Suddenly, there’s that realisation that the day after tomorrow, I would be sleeping in my own bed for the first time in eleven weeks. That’s one very long time to be away from home, but, not my record. I doubt I shall beat the 120 days I set on a World Voyage in 2018. It should be possible to scroll back through just over two years of writing blogs to that awesome voyage to Australia and back on Cunard’s Queen Mary 2. I had thought about packing my suitcases and several bags around ten days before the end, and, in fact, did manage to complete that necessary but irksome task in good time for the heavier stuff to be taken ashore for me. Apart from a lack of porters on the ship, Cunard did look after us right to the very end of the most remarkable of voyages.

For most of the time, we were well ahead of the Coronavirus menace which would catch us up eventually after transiting the Panama Canal. Our last port in South America, Cartagena in Colombia was the first virus casualty, followed by Fort Lauderdale, where guests could disembark for onward travel which was becoming very unpredictable. Ponta Delgada in the Azores would have been our final port of call, before Southampton. This would have meant perhaps six more days of warm sunshine before a final cooling off as we headed for Southampton, another three days away. Quite why Captain Tomas Connery re-routed us for those final days, reduced by two, to Southampton, through cold and wet climes of the North Atlantic, I can only speculate. And as soon as the word “compensation” was bandied about, Connery (who kindly signed my picture) decreed that if we wished, we could stay on board for up to two nights in Southampton, thus negating an obligation to compensate for early arrival!

Because of the lock-down, Roger, my neighour who had offered to collect me in his campervan was no longer allowed to drive, even to pick up a friend, either at the port, or anywhere else I could have got to.

Four pieces of luggage had been taken ashore during the night, for collection and transfer to the coach I had booked a seat on a few days earlier. I struggled, from my stateroom, with a further three bags and the painting I had at that particular time, wished I had let somebody else win at the auction! On that last morning, I bade Jo farewells in the Lido, and at the luggage collection point where she appeared unexpectedly, one final time. I got to see one or two others also. I think Christina was the very last person I said goodbye to at Knutsford Services, but by that time, I was obliged to keep two metres away from her or anybody. That’s “social distancing” for you!

While cool, the last three days of the voyage including that one-day-early coach transfer to Knutsford, were lovely and bright. The UK had basked in quite warm spring sunshine as its citizens got their heads around self isolation and social distancing, disinfecting worktops, wearing disposable gloves, and panic buying wet wipes and loo rolls. And while most passengers were glad to be going home, I think that same number would have been more than happy to stay on board where the virus hadn’t yet developed.

The journey to Knutsford felt like it was going to take forever. However, much to my amazement, we were pulling in 45 minutes earlier than I was advised originally. The coach was less than a month old, bearing a “20” plate, issued from 1st March 2020. A Buxton taxi arrived not long after I and others had been dropped off at the Service Station which felt eerily quiet. We drove through the town where I had lived with Mum and Dad between 1969 and 1975 when I moved to my present home near Buxton. I still have a soft spot for Knutsford and go back from time to time to remind me of what would be the all too brief time I resided there. My parents, on the other hand, lived out their lives there, and I could visit as often as I wished.

This is my second day in the new real world of the virus menace. So far, the “shock” hasn’t hit home. My red convertible is now a dead duck with completely flat battery. A bookshelf in my bedroom has collapsed, only very recently leaving a heap in the far left hand corner of my bedroom by the window. I do have fresh food in the house, but need to establish a shopping routine whereby I don’t leave the house. And I shall have to carry out all my own housework. It’s about time!

Brilliant! Now I am at home, I can send the photos. My plan now is to go through the blogs I was not able to illustrate while on board. This will take time. However, access the blog via Google and the the revised illustrated versions should start to come through.

Many thanks for reading, David, on what should have been the day I came home, 28th March 2020, 17.15hrs, Harpur Hill, Buxton.

Yesterday (day 76) was the last full day at sea. Jo, much to her great sadness has lost a diamond earring which had become detached from its mounting, only finding this out when preparing to retire for the night. I had lost my expensive prescription sun glasses; we both made our way to the Purser’s desk to file our respective losses. Later, while packing, my sunglasses turned up in the pocket of a “top” I had not worn for some time. Jo’s Victorian earring has yet to show up; I really hope she does find it. I know only too well the discomfort of losing something precious.

I played whist for the last time, starting off brilliantly but such pride preceding a spectacular run of bad hands, only recovering enough for a modest end score.

At Jo’s invitation, Barbara and Rich with whom Jo had enjoyed many private shore excursions throughout the voyage, joined us for dinner in the Verandah Restaurant. Richard and I shared various steak dishes as a main course. Prior to that, we had shared a box in the Royal Court Theatre for what I would call a “pre-emptive pantomime,” Cinderella, staged by the Entertainment Department. It was very good indeed; the performance was fluent and fun! “Oh no it wasn’t!”

Personnel and passengers are heading for a very uncertain future. Many staff are so far from home. Despite assistance from Barbara, I have not yet been able to set up an on- line shopping account; the less I venture from the house, the better.

As this monumental voyage draws to its inevitable close, all the staff have been magnificent right to the very end; the entertainers have played their hearts out. There is just one more night…then the bus to Knutsford, and taxi home.

I have been awake since the middle of the night; I used this time to almost complete the packing. I cannot cram any more into the main suitcases, but fortunately, I do have enough carriers for all that I have accumulated en route.

So, this is the last day and night on board. I shall write again later. Thanks for reading, David 07.48, Thursday 26th March 2020.