Friday. One gets to an age where one would rather ignore birthdays, but it’s always a pleasure to be spoiled and to feel loved through the greetings that come in. This one was momentous, in that we joined the Queen Victoria for a jaunt to the Mediterranean. The journey to Southampton was tedious in the extreme: fine as far as Hove, but mostly a slow crawl from there on. Where we could get shifting, the A27 road surface was appalling, so it was uncomfortable as well as plain boring. Fine weather, at least.
Hanging over Martyn, of course, was anxiety about the fact that his passport has less than six months to run. He had been reassured by the Cunard call centre that it wouldn’t be a problem, but the check-in clerk had to disappear into the back shop to get clearance. All of our ports of call require only that the passport is valid on that day. But some countries require six months’ validity (the logic escapes me) so Cunard make it their usual rule in case passengers have to be helicoptered off to one such. It was a great relief when the clerk came back bearing a broad smile.
Our cabin this time is midships on the port side, and fractionally bigger than last time. Although we have more traffic past our door than in the forward cabin we had on the Queen Elizabeth, it is far less noticeable than we had feared, and the cabin is well insulated from the neighbours and the engines. It’s fitted out with a kettle, mugs and makings, so we don’t need room service tea, or a route March to the caff for our morning cuppa as we did last time. At the time of writing, the sea is very calm, and we’re scarcely aware of any movement. When we returned after supper, there was a happy birthday balloon on the bed, and a card from the captain and senior officers (pre-printed, of course, but a nice touch all the same). I brought my birthday cards with me, and have blu-tacked them to the wall!
Saturday. For our first full day at sea we had a pretty relaxing time, though with quite a bit of entertainment thrown in. We slapped some water colours around in the morning, then lunch and a siesta. We came second in the afternoon pub quiz, and first in the evening one, having recruited for the latter our dinner table neighbours and two innocent bystanders. In between quizzes, we went to the captain’s reception, and had dinner: scallops for me and watermelon with feta for Martyn, then an excellent piece of grilled turbot, all helped along with a bottle of our old favourite Picpoul de Pinet (for which Cunard’s price was merely eye-watering). After the second quiz, we went to a pretty good song and dance show. In the theatre at the sharp end. We finished the evening with a nightcap in the bar above the bridge, entertained by a pianist/singer, Lisa Harman, whose performance we enjoyed very much.
So far, the sea has been very calm, with very little discernible movement. The biggest treat of the day was several sightings of whales quite close to the ship, a first for us both.
Sunday. Our second full day at sea was the familiar mix of watercolours, eating and eating. But we also went to a very good solo guitar concert of J S Bach and Villa-Lobos, and later to the wipe-out quiz where we again punted all our points on the last question, and lost the lot. We looked in briefly at the stand-up comic act, and rapidly decided against staying.
I had a rather uncomfortable night after a few days of unfamiliar food (and volumes thereof), but was back on form in time for a stroll round Cádiz. The town has a lot of green space forming a sort of promenade round the old centre, boasting quite a lot of North American subjects. After a couple of miles I was getting rather footsore and blistered (newish shoes, in which I thought I’d cope without socks. Fortunately, a little Chinese shop in the centre supplied me with socks, so our souvenirs of the city amount to three pairs of socks, a toothbrush, some shaving soap and a bottle of Head & Shoulders. Last of the big spenders.
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