David's Cruise

Note: Much of this blog is a repeat of Day 65 which disappeared temporarily, but now follows this blog. Some of the pictures are repeats, also. I hope to re arrange these writings at a later stage.

My plans to make a start with the packing came to very little yesterday. I had attended the Senior Officers’ Party in the Queens Room at 11.00hrs, followed by lunch with Glenis and Denise. In the afternoon, feeling very drowsy, I attempted an afternoon nap which, although I didn’t sleep, was beneficial and I was able to enjoy the full and standing Crew Show. I was impressed and the audience enthusiastic and encouraging with far more cheering than for the professional entertainment offered each night. To say the volunteer performers “tried their best” is something of an insult. A couple of singers did slip out of tune, but their stage presence was hugely impressive. I came away moved to make a meaningful donation for the chosen charity, “Help for Heroes.” The show was debated rather heatedly over dinner tonight with two would be critics being rather disparaging about last night’s show. All very irritating! Nobody from our table went to tonight’s repeat of “Hollywood Nights.” But there was a third Parade of the Chefs, another tradition that wears thin even first time around. We all agreed the cuisine was marvellous throughout the seven week voyage. For me, the curtain is poised to come down on the most remarkable journey of a lifetime.

I felt a little better today, and attended the act of worship in the Royal Court Theatre. ‘Re-written liturgy has caught up with Cunard, but there is still much from the Book of Common Prayer still in use. I didn’t come away “spiritually moved,” and reciting the Apostles Creed and Lord’s Prayer was disappointingly routine (on my part).

Lunch in the Britannia Restaurant was convivial and enjoyable. This afternoon, I made great progress with the packing, after having spent time on Deck 3 enjoying an unexpected spell of gorgeous sunshine, in conversation with table companion Colin.

From my cabin balcony, this evening, the lights of civilisation on the horizon, confirms our imminent arrival at Greenock around 08.00 hrs.

Yesterday, (above), Invitation to Party, Ship’s position, and after the Crew Show.

(Below) The Royal Court Theatre set up for worship. Ship’s position and Parade of the Chefs.

Goodnight,

David 01.20 hrs 5/8/19

My last shore excursion on “foreign soil,” took us into the most magnificent, remote(again) volcanic landscape, and during the day, I would gain something of an in-sight into the non-polluting way Iceland generates its energy requirements mainly from below the ground. Geo- thermal technology is remarkable. Reykjavik is probably the cleanest capital city in the world, and once again, I would like to revisit Iceland and stay a while. But, the weather may well not be as lovely as it has been these last two days.

I settled, comfortably, into the remaining window seat on the coach and after a minor technical issue, we were soon under way. The flat and uninspiring sprawl of the outskirts of Reykjavik, including where the port is, soon morphed into increasingly undulating and rocky landscape where thousands of trees were planted as an experiment which didn’t quite “come off.” While they still thrive, they take very much longer to grow tall, if they ever do. The tour circled the base of the still active Hengill Volcano which the tour guide hinted ( tounge-in-cheek) was due to erupt anytime, as the previous eruption was 2,000 years ago. The tour would take us to (eventually) the Hellisheidi Geo-thermal plant, Thingvellir National Park and we would pass the massive natural Lake Thingvallavatn, as well as visiting places to witness the spectacular hot springs which were plentiful, bringing to mind Rotoura in New Zealand. Our tour guide was very keen to impart as much local and relevant knowledge as she was able. As ever, I found this overwhelming and a little tiresome, but I am sure I was the only guest who felt burdened by so much back to back information. It was, nevertheless, a superb trip and I am happy to share a few images below.

These pictures are perhaps not very self explanatory, but I hope they illustrate my Blog adequately.

Below, pictures taken in the port of Reykjavik, and from my stateroom balcony.

“Queen Elizabeth” and “AIDA luna”

Just before departure from Reykjavik, 2nd August 2019.We have two more sea days before docking at Greenock. I have no plans for Scotland except to post home items I no longer require.

Soon we shall be on our way. This really is the start of the “home run.”But, there’s more to come!

Thanks for reading,

David.

Although I went to my bed well into the early hours of this morning, I still awoke up at around 05.30hrs, with difused sunlight streaming through the cracks in the balcony curtains. Land was near by as evidenced by a couple of pictures I took before going back to sleep.

When I woke again, it was at a much more respectable half past eight.

Slowly, I extracated myself from bed and was ready for breakfast some time later. I had the usual, plus a small portion of cooked items because I was on a shore excursion to the Isle of Vigur, home to one couple whose children and grandchildren visit regularly, (from what I gather). A local guide would walk us around this remote island which, nevertheless receives several thousand cruise ship visitors during a short season. This is another part of the world whose welfare is dependent on the cruise ship industry. What Iceland has to offer is, again, majestic scenery. These are the views from my stateroom as I write his blog at 16.56hrs.

I only just made it in time for the boat which would take perhaps 30 of us out to the Isle of Vigur, an approximately thirty minute crossing from Isafjordur, which itself was reached by one of the ship’s tenders.

On the island, I did get to speak briefly with its two sole inhabitants, who I suspect were much younger than I am. Our guide took us on a splendid but all too short a walk, pointing out plenteous wildlife and other things along the way. I am no ornithologist, but I think that I may have taken some reasonable photographs and video. We were issued with sticks with blue tags on the top end to discourage attack from the birds protecting their young. We did get swooped on from time to time.

Fresh Icelandic bread and cakes baked on the island, were provided in plenty and much appreciated by all, along with a choice of hot beverage. The pictures below illustrate the beauty and interest of this tiny island.

After the return crossing from Vigur Island, I took a brief walk around Isafjordur itself, enjoying the pure cool air prevalent around here.

Thanks for reading,

David.

P.S.

Photos taken on Deck 3 At around half past eleven tonight.

And…

from my balcony at 00.30hrs.

Good night!

Thankfully, I believe I am over the worst of my cold. My good friend, Roger texted me from outside Nairobi today, explaining that despite our opposite lifestyles, (he is devoting his time away to improving the lives of the very needy), we do have one thing in common, we are both on Lemsip! Boy! That “Cunard cough” isn’t half contagious…!

Today, we remain bereft of the lovely hot weather of just a few days ago. Even Newfoundland was most pleasant, as was much of the first of the three sea days to Isafjordur. There was thick fog this morning when I awoke at 6am. I promptly returned to the Land of Nod!

For a third consecutive day, we have advanced our time pieces by yet another hour. There is thus little danger of sending a text to arrive at some unearthly hour of the morning. In the Captain’s daily noon address to his “flock,” Simon Love assured us of a clear day tomorrow in Isafjordur, where I have booked a boat trip to the remote Vigur Island, inhabited by just one family, at least one of whom will show us around and feed us with home made Icelandic snacks. I get the feeling this is a well rehearsed trip, the family enjoying (if that’s the right word) entertaining cruise ship passengers on a regular basis. I never anticipated ever visiting such remote locations.

I am glad to be back in circulation now my cold has subsided, but I am still taking care especially when people are near by.

From the Lido area on Deck 9, I am looking out on to a mid-grey moderate sea, and with the sky obscured by a mist of uniform very light grey. That might sound tedious, and it would be for days on end, but for this short while, it does hold a unique beauty, and is most relaxing. North-easterly winds of 30 knots are not conducive to deck walking, although I shall put some warm clothes on and “give it a try.” (14.20hrs, 15.20hrs in the U.K.)

(19.40) I did venture outdoors on Deck 9 but chose to forego any walking today. Cool winds accross the decks and movement on board because of moderate seas discouraged me from taking my usual walk. Instead, I joined Colin and Denise for coffee on Deck 9. If the seas remain as they are today, I fear we may not be successful anchoring off Isafjordur tomorrow. But I still feel this is unlikely.

I shall change for dinner tonight. (20.15hrs)

(23.24hrs – below)

This photograph was taken two minutes ago at 23.22hrs, indicating the fact we are so far north again, reminding one of being in Alaska a few weeks ago. If we were in the next time zone, at the latitude we are at now, it would be this bright at 23 minutes past midnight. The pictures which close this blog were taken at 22 minutes to midnight. I stayed up talking until 01.20hrs and it was still far from completely dark.

Thanks for reading, David.

I added to what I wrote yesterday, this morning, and there is little more to write about. The choppy seas which developed late yesterday afternoon which I didn’t mention are less so now. However, the skies are “northern grey” and the sea the colour of graphite. A few seabirds make occasional appearnces. This most varied of itineraries makes for a unique travel experience, which I remain very pleased indeed to have undertaken. Yesterday, we advanced our time pieces one hour at midday. We did the same today, and will do again tomorrow. We shall therefore become merely one hour behind current U.K. time, reminding me that the number of days left of this amazing 69 night journey is now down to single figures.

My cold has left me lethargic and still reluctant to stay long outside of my cabin. With few people around, I did manage one lap of Deck 3, late this afternoon. Denise bought me some more Lemsip which she delivered “standing back!”

But it’s so cold and windy now. I was hoping for the similar bright and palatable conditions we enjoyed in Alaska. However, it’s not raining and my only disappointment is having succumbed to a nasty cold which I hope will be dealt with by Lemsip and hot toddies. I have felt better today and am in no hurry to go home, not yet anyway!

There is a slight hint of the weather clearing up, for example, salmon and very pale blue colouring in an otherwise grey sky, as the sun goes down.

I had a brief bit of something to eat in the Lido, at a window seat on the port side, looking out onto a non too turbulent sea, with only slight nudging movement to the ship.

I shall write tomorrow. Thanks for reading,

David (21.43, 23.34hrs at home, 30/7/19)

Yet another gorgeous albeit cooler day as we steam ever north eastwards towards the north west coast of Iceland. This is the first of three sea days, and probably the last in untroubled waters for the time-being. Although only 13 degrees Celsius, it doesn’t feel cold, and, right now (12.42hrs / 15.42 hrs at home), there is not a cloud in the sky.

I am hoping that plenteous fresh air may blow away the filthy cold that manifested itself during yesterday. The air couldn’t be more pure.

Having slept well, I enjoyed my usual late breakfast of grapefruit, porridge and plain yoghurt. Foregoing any activities and events this morning, I chose to walk around Deck 3 for just over an hour. But now it’s time for lunch, and to feed, but try not to spread, that cold!

More later.

(11.10hrs 30th July 2019.)

The rest of yesterday “went down hill.” My cold developed further, and I felt it prudent to “quarantine myself.” I returned to my cabin which, thankfully, offers a view of the sea, and fresh air, by pegging the balcony door with a chair. (Cunard frown on this practice, because it messes with the air-conditioning, which cannot be turned off in the individual stateroom.) For the first time, I availed myself of room-service, and was brought a splendid three course lunch.

It is believed, widely, that the air-conditioning influences the spread of colds, coughs, and other “nasties.” But, there has been far less sneezing, coughing and spluttering on this voyage than on recent cruises. And several people I know of have made a point of “staying away” when feeling unwell, and I felt I had no choice but to do the same yesterday afternoon. My very kind table companions kept me supplied with Lemsip and whiskey to ease my discomfort. I re-discovered the pleasures of a “hot-toddy!”

No pictures yet. I should be o.k. by the time we reach Isafjordur the day after tomorrow. I feel less guilty about leaving my cabin today for my usual breakfast; somebody close by has just let rip with an enormous sneeze!

I shall try my lunchtime deck walk and vacate the Lido’s present unhealthy environment!

All the best, David (11.36hrs 30/7/29, Day 61)

What I failed to mention earlier, is that our visit to St. John’s was a “maiden call.” There seemed to be minimal emphasis on this event here in Newfoundland. Ron, in his latest e-mail reminded me of the huge difficulty accessing the downtown landing stage because of predominantly inclement sea conditions. A call there by QE2 was curtailed during one of my final voyages on her in 2008. Today, tranquil weather and calm seas allowed easy access to the centre of town.Probably because of the maiden arrival of QE, a strange work was composed, scored for the ships’ sirens of all those vessels in port. A brilliant idea. I do hope somebody had the foresight to record this magnificent “music.” I didn’t have the foresight to replace my battery!

This morning, I started to experience slight discomfort in my throat, and recognised this as a possible harbinger of a filthy cold. Annoyingly, this has come to fruition and I thus changed my mind about joining my table companions for dinner. I exiled myself to the Lido, but was joined by an Australian lady who described numerous exotic adventures she would take regularly. She and a friend had joined QE in New York, and will stay on after Southampton for Guernsey and then the Baltic, before heading back Downunder. I just hope she didn’t catch my cold; I did warn her.

I wish that I had been better organised and seen a little more today. But I do come away with a good idea of the city and feel better prepared should I visit St. John’s a second time.

(Above) Pictures taken whilst walking back to the ship from The Rooms. (Museum)

Tomorrow is the first of three sea days as we steam towards Isafjordur, our first port of call in Iceland. Time for some “catching up” hopefully.

That’s it for tonight.

Thanks for reading, David 22.23 hrs 28/7/19.

Despite not getting to bed until almost 2am, I was up only just in time to watch Queen Elizabeth’s delicate approach to Newfoundland’s capital, St. John’s via a narrow opening in the cliffs ahead. I took the first photograph at 7.24, having thrown on the clothes I planned to wear today. I legged it from my stateroom, starboard aft on 8 Deck, to the farthest space forward on 11 Deck, just ahead of the “bowling green.” Between the panes of smoked glass, there is enough room to squeeze a small camera, and obtain both excellent forward pictures and video with little “shake” although the wind noise will have to be muted on any future DVD.

The pictures below depict views from Queen Elizabeth as she enters St. John’s harbour.

I visited the Queens Room in a vain attempt to acquire a place on a tour, but apart from town and out of town hikes, everything was sold out, with no cancellations forthcoming. Unknown to me, I left my camera there….mislaid for a second time…and then recovered, this time from the Purser’s Desk, after breakfast in the Lido, and another frantic search.

Now, I was equipped to explore and attend Sung Eucharist at St. John’s Cathedral, St. John’s, NF. On the way, I met Joan, a very easy on the eye 28 year old from Winnipeg, s scratching a living serenading passers-by on her guitar. Seemingly, she gets herself around North America, her choice of lifestyle. She explained this brave decision. The more one acquires, the more one clings to what one now has. People with less, share more. I parted with 20 Canadian Dollars which, hopefully, helped.

I continued up the hill to the elevated Cathedral and was just in time for the 11 o’clock Sung Eucharist. The hymns erred on the evangelical side, but the liturgy was from Canada’s very slightly different version of The Book of Common Prayer. I was unfamiliar with the musical setting, but it was gorgeous and appropriate. And the organist seemed to delight in strange harmony for the final verse of each hymn. As closer to home, there was the persistent irritation of people whispering during crucial parts of the service, even during the silence immediately after the Communion. As usual, I accepted a general invitation for refreshments after the service. Thus, I got to see some of that Cathedral’s “behind the scenes.” Unlike St. John’s Buxton, St. Magnus in London and that wonderful church in Vancouver, a few people did say “Hello,” but most seemed stuck in their own routines. What I did notice was the immediate removal of the hymn numbers from at least six boards, as well as immediate clearance of the altar. Oh! How I miss church work!

There were two very young infants being baptised that day. At least one was the grandchild of a senior clergyman, and a momentous occasion for all concerned. This, too, was very reminiscent of home.

Thankfully, those brief nocturnal pangs of homesickness have passed. Indeed, when waking up for a “comfort stop” last night, I took the momentary opportunity to step out onto my balcony and look out on to a dark merging of sea and sky, with a none-too-bright crescent moon creating a dimmed reflection on the ocean’s surface, indeed, a rare experience. Although seemingly plenteous, I do value each day on board ship. There are not too many of those left, now.

Sunday would not be Sunday without its weekly celebratory feast. After an official tour of the Cathedral with tour guide Claire, I ventured up the hill to “The Rooms,” St. John’s museum complex with excellent cafe/restaurant, affording some wonerful elevated views.

I do wish sail-aways were later than around 5 to 5.30pm. Having to be on board by 4.30 doesn’t leave a great deal of flexibility unless one is well organised. (I rarely am). However, I have walked around the town, and of course, I would love to come back. Cruise ships are less rare in this part of the world, and opportunities should present themselves.

Thanks for reading,

David.

Views from East Observation Deck

Other views from inside The Rooms, or inside The Rooms.

15.35 hrs, The Rooms 4th floor 28th July.

David.

Vintage photographs of the Cathedral.

This is the most extraordinary and fascinating of journeys. We have just one final day in the eastern extremities of North America, Newfoundland.This morning, after a late breakfast, I soaked up the sun for a while and partook of an early lunch, before attending an afternoon concert for soprano and piano. The recital, given by Irving and Brown was worthy of inclusion in the Buxton Festival and was very reminiscent of one of their major fund raising events. The concert was billed as “Sacred and Divine – Vocal music of the Christian Church. What it in fact was, music written for performance, rather than as part of an act of worship. I was not surprised and only disappointed very slightly. What we had was a recital of music from various oratorios and other religious inspired works, mainly by J.S. Bach, Handel and Mozart. The soprano soloist and accompanying pianist performed each item to spectacular perfection, this being appreciated by all those attending..I partook of a mini afternoon tea and then joined a table of Australians for the afternoon trivia quiz in the Golden Lion. I have been invited back!Dinner was a formal affair tonight, and a few took the trouble to dress in 1920s attire, this being the evening’s theme.Erma joined Glenis Denise and I for the show, and afterwards in the Commodore Club. Through a side window, I could see a cruise ship parallel with ours, close as if sailing in tandem. I got all excited and dashed to my room at the other end of the ship for my camera. I dashed further to the Boat Deck, set the picture up. All of a sudden, Lumix appeared in the digital view finder, and the camera shut down with a flat battery. An industrial expletive was lost in the night air!There are just 11 nights left of this marathon voyage. I shall never be ready to return home!Thanks for reading,David.

I was reminded in an e-mail, that my marathon trip around North and Central America was approaching its “home run.” I remember feeling the same back in 2015 while in the same part of the North Atlantic, again, heading for Samuel Cunard’s home town, Halifax. Again, schools of dolphins “jumped and danced” clear of the ocean’s surface.

Will VIA-rails “Ocean” be stabled at the nearby terminal station, a rake of never-to-run (in Europe) Nightstar stock of far lesser scale than the dome car, looking somewhat incongruous at the rear of the train, with locomotives equally out of scale at the front end.

I must have been exhausted by yesterday’s activities in New York; everything, however easy, felt like hard work.

Just like four years ago, dolphins lept in great profusion, swimming fairly close by in the late afternoon. Wildlife is always a joy to see. However, it is far cooler now than at almost the same time last year. Perhaps, now is the time to put away the “shorts” for another year. Also late this afternoon, I came across Erma in the Lido, having a “chin-wag” with Glenis. It seems nobody took any notice of her request to be allocated a seat at our table for the resumption of her voyage from New York. (26 July 2019)

None of us ventured to the Royal Court for a third Earth Wind and Fire tribute act since Vancouver. I made use of the opportunity for an early night. However, the next day in Halifax would offer a welcome encore of warm weather. Cruise friends Alex and Naomi from QM2, also in Halifax, whom I first got to know on the QE2 40th Anniversary cruise of 2007, managed to communicate with me on Queen Elizabeth. I was taken to Murphy’s for a good lunch. This was most pleasurable. We would later make our way to the Lord Nelson for drinks, via an ice cream kiosk. The scoop of vanilla ice cream reminded me of the delicious offerings of Arthur Lewis the ice cream man who plied his trade along Arran Avenue adjacent to the street where I grew up in Sale. But that was 65 years ago, and, not what I would call “the good old days.”

Quite how I got to be in Halifax, Nova Scotia on 26th July on board a Cunarder heading for Newfoundland, with flagship Queen Mary 2 following close behind remains something of a fortunate mystery. A unique day, blessed with wonderful sunshine. This morning, I posted small presents to Pat and Ron in Ontario as a thank you for looking after me so kindly almost at the start of my journey. I then met Alex and Naomi for lunch at Murphy’s.

The last time I was in Halifax was during the Cunard 175 celebrations of four years ago. “That. seems like yesterday.” The “sailaway” from Halifax was spectacular and joyous. The resident pop band played to a packed Deck 9, where many celebrated with appropriate beverage, and others filled whatever dance areas were available. Before departure, were were berthed with our stern against that of flagship Queen Mary 2. From the aft of Deck 9 we could hear the sail-away celebrations from the aft of QM2’s Deck 8, where their party, also packed, was visible from stern areas of Queen Elizabeth. All open spaces on both ships were “wall to wall people.”

Queen Elizabeth was the first to “set sail.” I was confused as to the exact choreography of both ships, as we departed from our respective births. Eventually, we would be followed firstly by a water-spraying fire boat, and then Queen Mary 2. This brought to mind the final tandem crossing from New York to Southampton of QE2 and QM2 in October 2008, almost (but not quite) bringing the curtain down on QE2’s celebrated career. Alex and Naomi as well as Andrew and Andrea would join me on board the Shieldhall in Southampton on 11th November 2008 to witness the final departure from its home port, of QE2. Ten years later, I would, again walk the hallowed decks of QE2 in Dubai, where she now competes in that country’s hotel industry, as well as staying there for three days earlier in 2019.

Sunrise from my cabin balcony at 6am.

VIA Rails The Ocean as seen from my cabin.

Lobby of the Lord Nelson, Halifax.

R.M.S. Queen Mary 2 berthed in Halifax.

Views of QM2 from deck 9 aft, Queen Elizabeth before the sail-away.

Now underway, Queen Mary 2 heads for New York, Queen Elizabeth for St. John’s Newfoundland, Iceland, Greenock and Dublin, arriving at Southampton on August 8th.

An excellent day.

David.