David's Cruise

After the “curve-ball” of an upset stomach earlier today, I am now at Coffs Harbour station in excellent time for the 15.58 service to Casino, from where I transfer to a bus for the rest of the journey to Brisbane. My big case weighed in at over 28 kilos; I am debating whether 4 kilos can be transferred to each of the smaller bags. And, if I can locate a post office, some could then

be dispatched home. I am not aware of having picked up extra items; the big case, does,however, feel significantly heavier. Some of those internal flights might prove “interesting”.

18.12 hrs. The sun continues with signs of setting imminently. And the part of Australia I was visiting, did receive significant amounts of rain. My taxi driver confirmed it was welcome, but was not really bothered.

Hopefully, I will be in Brisbane before 10pm and I can sleep for Australia!

That’s it for St. David’s Day.

David.

So, here I am at Coffs Harbour, yet again, nursing a delicate stomach. Hopefully, this discomfort will be very short lived; I hope I do not invent the saying “mal de train”! The hotel my travel agent arranged is most luxurious, taking the form of a group of chalets in several acres of subtropical gardens leading down to the sea. The bath was large enough to wash a car in, with side jets, and I didn’t think, “now was a suitable time to post a selfie!” The light and airy breakfast room looks out onto what I assume is the southern extreme of the Pacific Ocean. It’s a great pity I couldn’t arrive during daylight last night; this is obviously a delightful place to stay, and I suspect, hugely expensive. The chef has agreed, very kindly to prepare me some porridge, which, instinct tells me should help. The journey to Brisbane is around 7 hours, by train and bus. Again, I have to be at the station an hour before departure. Coffs Harbour station is more like a staffed version of Chapel En Le Frith, with little to occupy oneself with. While very hot out there, a wonderful cool breeze is most therapeutic. I was less than impressed, when I arrived last night, that my chalet is a fair walk from Reception, necessitating the use of a buggy. The hotel has agreed to an extra hour to vacate my accommodation. Irritatingly, going to the town of Coffs Harbour itself seems to be discouraged; I need to offload stuff I would rather not drag all around the world with me.

14.00hrs. Well, I did become unwell. The hotel were brilliant and let me “sleep it off” in a vacant room. The taxi is booked for 14.30, so that I can acquire appropriate medication for all this travel yet to come. I think (hope) the worst is over and I can return to the business of continuing my “travelogue”.

Best wishes, a rather pale David!

In Pictures:

A

The first leg of my journey around the Australian Continent turns out to be a most pleasant nine hour rail journey from Sydney to Coffs Harbour, on my way to Brisbane. The train, based on our 1970s High Speed Trains, and introduced in Australia between 1982 and 1987, leaves Sydney Central at 11.41, presumably every day. All this is new to me. Sandwiched between two diesel power units, around 5 or 6 coaches, A, B, and Buffet Car C, are First Class, the rest, “Economy”. My huge case was refused by the Company and was thus stored by me in luggage facilities at the end of coach B, where I was allocated seat 9.

The suburbs of Sydney seemed sprawling and took a while to come out of. Nevertheless, I tried to take in as much as possible as we headed out into, eventually, remote and rugged countryside, still showing signs of the longest drought on record, I am given to believe. My enthusiasm for hot weather didn’t seem to go down too well with a passenger I got into conversation with in the Buffet Car. However, I was wished “bon voyage” when the not unattractive blonde de-trained at Taree at around 5.30.

The train catering staff announce their services of lunch, afternoon tea and dinner with an enthusiasm from which we Brits could learn. In fact, the meals, although tasty, are reminiscent of those served in Cattle Class on aeroplanes. Nevertheless, all this is great fun, and I don’t want the day to end. The train weaves its way through hills, fields, and woodlands for hours on end. I just have to do this trip again! I shall, certainly, research the journey I am enjoying at the earliest opportunity.

This epistle continueth “in early course”

David.On time arrival at Coffs Harbour 28/2/19.

(00.30 hrs, 28/2/19) The curtain came down in spectacular fashion last night after the much anticipated performance of Puccini’s Turandot at the Sydney Opera House. I have nothing to compare it with, but I felt the production was “up there with” the New York Metropolitan, or Covent Garden. My enjoyment of grand opera has been re-awakened. Perhaps this interest may be less extravagant than exploring the world on ocean liners!

I shall go to bed soon; I am supposed to vacate my stateroom by 8am. Some hope!

I have had a brilliant time on M.V. Queen Victoria, and expectations were exceeded for much of the time. The Cunard product remains of exceptional standard, but can fall apart when something doesn’t quite fall into place. The only minor disappointment was the initial lack of organisation at the start of my birthday dinner. However, once the restaurant personnel were informed of the gist of the occasion, they did rise to it with suitable flare. Here are a few pictures taken yesterday.

After the performance.

Thanks for reading. This is the final blog written on board MV. Queen Victoria. Tomorrow (actually, later this morning), I travel from Sydney to Coff’s Harbour by train.

All the best, David.

It’s going to be a beautiful day as temperatures emulate the best the UK has to offer during its summer. Most of the packing is complete, but there are those annoying bits of paper, lots of them, which may be important. My day to day documentation, tickets, vouchers and all immediate necessities are (or will be) close to hand as I pick my way around this vast hot continent. Now, I shall have a spot of early lunch, and then finish all can prior to going to what Cunard refers to (Puccini’s Turandot) as “The Show”. Dumbing down is alive and well on board QV! I must however, check out the cost of my ticket. Inconveniently, the Tour Office is open for just one hour, between 5 and 6pm today. I may well be wrong, but I detect a discrepancy of around 55 or 60 US dollars.

More news later, David.

David Nevell’s 70th Birthday(1st March) Celebrations, 26th February 2019.

This is it. The packing has to be done.

I awoke after a “disturbed” sleep following a most enjoyable dinner to celebrate my 70th birthday, the day after tomorrow.

So far, I have written glowing accounts of QV, and all the fine things it offers with huge attention to detail in all aspects, e.g. restaurant service, standard of catering throughout the ship, and the eclectic entertainment, also throughout the ship, on offer from before 9am to the early hours, each day. Therefore, it is with a small amount of dismay that my 70th birthday dinner, at the vacant Captain’s Table was, to begin with, rather disorganised. In good time, I had made arrangements with the Maitre D’ and even was granted a request for 11 places at the Table which accommodates, normally, 10. (11 is comfortable, however). Apparently, Cunard have banned the use of balloons for “environmental” reasons. Even so, the Table was bereft of any celebratory embellishments, a far cry from the magnificent effort put in by QM2’s counterparts last year. The booked photographer needed reminding, and service was, to begin with, slow and uninspiring. Things changed, however, when one of my party had a discreet word with one of the waiters. From nowhere appeared a chorus of restaurant staff who gathered behind me and sang with enormous gusto, Happy Birthday which attracted the attention of those around, and, a congratulatory round of applause. The photographer showed up, and an impromptu dessert with one candle (also, I suspect, against Cunard’s rules) was placed in front of me. So, the evening, which started so well with cocktails in the Commodore Club, looking out on to a magnificent sunset, complete with sun-bow, but then fell apart somewhat, was saved. Afterwards, Daphne, Nigel and I returned to the Commodore Club where the pianist, at my (very strange) request performed a marvellous improvisation of the Theme to the 1960s movie Exodus, juxtaposed with Hava Nagila! I got good value for this piece of impromptu imagination, at least 5 minutes. No wonder I had difficulty getting off to sleep. I commenced packing before going to bed, but being “heavy eyed” by that time, I “got my head down”.

It is now 8.15, and, again with eyes as heavy as house bricks, I shall continue the task of preparing for my next land based, rail borne adventures.

More news as the day progresses and I join the final shore excursion of this leg of my World Tour. Turandot at the Sydney Opera House.

All the best, David.

2538/mile, 10.40hrs.

(2472/mile)….11.30, 26 Feb 2019

(2553/mile)….11.45

(2469/mile)….18.25 (4th Lap)

3rd lap, midnight GMT intervened

Midday: Book table for birthday drinks in Commodore Club.

They cannot reserve tables; must arrive early and they will assist in establishing an area.

Luncheon appointment with Ken and Eileen, 1300hrs.

This final sea day is far more placid than the mountains of disturbance encountered well over a day ago, and which didn’t subside until early this morning. Everybody I have spoken to is thankful not to be tossed around as if in a space training capsule. I imagine, in fact, that yesterday’s tempest was nothing unusual, or we would have taken avoiding action. My naive imagination can “over-dramatise” things. But I do appreciate today’s far more settled conditions. Outside, it is a pleasant 70 or so degrees Fahrenheit; there is no real wind to speak of, and I have enjoyed returning to the walking regime I so wish I could incline myself to at home. Tomorrow is the last full day on board, the grand finale being a Cunard visit to Sydney Opera House for a performance of Turandot. I do have the most minimal idea of the plot, but, that there is much more to Puccini’ s opera than “Nessun Dorma”! (I need to check out a severe price discrepancy between the price I paid for, at home, and that charged to friends who booked on board after being wait-listed).

Last year, I debated which came first, Sydney Opera House, or Manchester Oxford Road Station whose roof, although only a fraction of the size, does bare a noticeable resemblance. Actually, the one time ultra modern design of the Manchester railway station dates back to the late 1950s, and I suspect any similarity I see between that and the Sydney Opera House (1973) is, as they say, purely coincidental.

Take no notice of the notes at the beginning of this blog; such meaningless ramblings will occur from time to time. I am very keen to avoid the need for medication for my on-going diabetic condition, which up to now (from Nov. 2010) I have controlled with diet and excersise. Circumstances intervened in the last few years which reduced opportunities for excersise, and my inclination for which, dropped off accordingly. So, I now keep records and avoid the temptations of much of the “unsuitable” food in plenteous supply, not always with success! My last check-up just before I came away revealed I had returned to a border-line state, which I did not want to hear!

Yesterday was “rough” and many people seemed to struggle through their shipboard routines. There was no drop in the exemplary standard of service that I could perceive.

On this final sea day, perhaps now would be an appropriate time for a “review-so-far”. My flight from London to San Francisco has been written up previously. I remember little except that it was more pleasurable than I anticipated previously. Immigration on arrival seemed to take forever, but the arranged car transfer to the Hotel Nikko went exactly to plan. Hotel Nikko was far more “up-scale” than I would have expected , and was my base in San Francisco for one day, and later after 3 nights in Long Beach on board the former transatlantic Cunard liner R.M.S Queen Mary, a further 2 nights, now, in a less spacious but equally luxurious room. Ironically, the initial warmth in San Francisco was, in southern California, displaced by much cooler influences which had blighted much of North America from the North Pole. (I assume that’s what a polar vortex is).

I have been far from disappointed with Cunard’s Queen Victoria. There is a difference of opinion as to whether QV is a cruise ship or ocean liner. Years ago, senior officers on board QE2 were adamant that, although enhanced in its design, to its original specification, QV remains of cruise ship specification. The ship that was originally going to be QV was transferred to P&O to become the Arcadia. The only “give-away” to its Cunard connection is the design of the funnel, and even that is difficult to discern.

QV is a lovely vessel in which to travel, lavishly appointed throughout, and decorated in the utmost of taste. There are definite edges over Cunard’s Flagship QM2, which always be my preference. However, I aim to enjoy “where I am at the time”, rather than compare with previous journeys or ship’s I have travelled in. All the amenities, public rooms and other facilities are convenient to access. My cabin, on the other hand, is right in the forward end of the vessel, the Britannia Restaurant where I dine each evening, as far back as one can go. This therefore entails a good walk after showering and changing for dinner. I was told during QV’s maiden voyage, that the dining room’s dark wood interior was inspired by that of a Pullman car in today’s British section of the Orient Express, now referred to as The British Pullman. This similarity is not obvious to me! Like the original Queen Mary’s Cabin (later First Class) restaurant, that on the Queen Victoria can accommodate 800 passengers at one sitting on two levels, 320 on the upper level, 420 at the lower level. That which might have been remarkable in the 1930s seems less so today.

Early QV publicity describes the theatre as being inspired by Frank Matcham who built our now revered Buxton Opera House which opened in 1903. This influence is immediately obvious, and very convincing.

My windowless inside stateroom has all that I need for the best possible night’s sleep; although I did succumb to the temptation of upgrading to a glass fronted balcony cabin on Deck 5 for next year’s circumnavigation of South America. This is supposed to be the last in my programme of multi-month English winter escapes. Any misgivings I may have had about the QV are dispelled, and whether of cruise ship or ocean liner specification, this debate is unimportant. All that goes with this high-end sea travel is exemplary. However, as one complainer on QM2 remarked last year, when I was having the time of my life, “I can see you are easily pleased”. Her being a former Public School pupil, I was tempted to comment on her “appalling” use of English grammar…but chose against a possible long term and unnecessary conflict. I discover as I make these wonderful voyages, friction can develop rapidly, more often than not, in the launderette, which I avoid at all costs, or on shore excursions, as the rush for the best seats on the coach resembles the stampede at Euston Station for Manchester bound trains! However, I find the ambience on this particular cruise most convivial and comfortable. So much so in fact, that occasionally, I wonder, perhaps, if I am, sometimes, the elephant in the room! This “self pity” is momentary as the conversation from surrounding tables at afternoon tea is just as exuberant as anything from me!

Goodness! I have spent hours on this blog, writing and then deleting what is meant to funny, fails miserably!

This final sea day has been most relaxing and rejuvenating. But now, I have my 70th birthday celebration to get myself ready for. I did invite the Captain, but would be most (pleasantly) surprised if he added my party to his list of engagements.

5.46pm 26 Feb 2019

Once again, thanks for reading,

David.

Last night, through the night, and this morning, tempestuous seas which I barely recall from previous voyages make for an exciting seascape and spectacular bow sprays. Walking around the ship is hazardous as the ground moves in mysterious and unpredictable ways. I have prepared for possible mal de mer, taking appropriate medication. Thus, I am enjoying the anger of the gods, but hope they don’t throw in a rogue wave “for luck”.

However, I am now looking forward to the predictably of rail travel, or so I think! It’s hard to believe that three days from now, I shall be on a train from Sydney to Coff’s Harbour. This journey continues to amaze, but the ship’s internet doesn’t! I shall probably have to wait until I am on terra firma to post these blogs.

More writings to follow, David.

In the meantime, views as QV cuts through the turbulent Tasman Sea.

Tomorrow is the last sea day, a day of packing, and my 70th Birthday Celebrations at the Captain’s Table. At the last minute, and I hope not too late, I invited the Captain. Unbelievably, a lady at our table who joined us at Auckland celebrates her 89th birthday on March 1st.

I, naturally, shall be a little sad at giving up my comfortable stateroom in exchange for untried (by me) Australian sleeping car accommodation. But the next leg of my trip will involve far more work. However, the paperwork is all in order.

More comment tomorrow.

(22.43 hrs. Mon 25/2/19)

What an absolute privilege to set eyes on this gorgeous part of the world for a second time. I had spent far too much, this morning, in my cabin. Eventually, as described in my first blog, I did manage to give myself an hour or so for some “pre shore excursion exploration” For a brief half hour or so, I was having a “nosy” along a tiny bit of waterfront, almost as far away from home as it’s possible to be. I saw palm trees protruding from lime green grass alongside a tiny piece of beach. A warm wind caressed my travel weary frame with a supernatural tenderness….and the day would become warmer. (19.16hrs) As the sun poises itself to set in pyrotechnic splendour, (maybe), that caressing warmth has morphed into a cooler breeze, and the realisation that I should have brought some warmer attire on to the higher open decks. On Deck 9, the sail away party has given way to a lone guitarist serenading a disinterested gathering in single figures. Nevertheless, there is a relevant ambience which I doubt would exist on many other cruise ships.

The river cruise to Russell with a freshly cooked one course lunch (billed as “brunch”), was another wonderful experience. It was a tad touristy, but the whole thing was most enjoyable indeed, affording close up views of the passing picturesque landscape. My writings and photographs, fail to describe adequately this tranquil part of New Zealand. Only a handful of pictures may illustrate what I (and of course any other visitors), see in the Bay of Islands. Russell is reputed to be the first capital of North Island; apparently, this isn’t strictly true. The tour guide left me somewhat confused with his explanation as to the exact location of the short lived capital. Eventually, Wellington, which I visited last year, would become capital of New Zealand. However, we were afforded half an hour to explore present day Russell with its most attractive wooden structures gracing a paradise of a sea front. While there, a strong breeze developed, harbinger of a bumpy twenty hours ahead on board M.V. Queen Victoria.

There are two sea days ahead, before anchoring off Sydney. Already, I am preparing for the next leg of my “World Tour”. For the next 18 or so days, I shall be on my own as, following a carefully prepared itinerary, I embark on my most ambitious of railtours. More of that when it happens. The wind is strong now, (19.42hrs). Once again, white foam stretches as far as the eye can see. It’s going to be quiet around the ship tonight. Below is a selection of pictures taken during the day.

Thanks for reading, David.

As we approach 9am, we are now anchored in the Bay of Islands, another place I never expected to revisit. I have chosen a different excursion to the exciting Cape Brett cruise which I thoroughly enjoyed almost this time last year. However, I have still chosen a river boat “cruise” to the one time important town(or village) of Russell.

Yesterday’s perfect day ended with a lovely night time departure from the exciting city of Auckland, complete with nocturnal sail away party at the

open stern of Deck 9, where all sail away parties take place, with live dance music. The atmosphere was unique as the prominent city night-scape diminished slowly as we progressed towards our final New Zealand port of call, Bay of Islands. Three from our table watched (me in some disbelief) as the warm night air accompanied the gathering darkness as the lights of Auckland twinkled out of sight.

I shall “take it easy” this morning, enjoy some deck walking and breakfast and remind myself of the place at we are anchored.

“River Boat Cruise to Russell & Brunch” promises, according to my brochure, a journey along the waterways of Opua and Okiato, past the Omata Estate Vineyard and Koroareka Oyster Farm, as we enjoy a local style brunch.

Russell is the original port of the north island, where time is allowed for photography in this quaint picturesque village of historic churches, homesteads and wooden cottages. (09.25, 24/2/19

(13.00 hrs)

After a choppy transfer by tender, I walked from where we landed to a cafe for chorizo bagel and de-caff latte, ignoring the fact that “brunch” is included in “the deal”. I shall walk back to the Tender Landing Stage.

More later,

David