The ride down from A Corunha was pretty sporting for much of the two nights and a day that it takes, but we fortunately have decent sea legs. Matthew McCombie’s recital yesterday was excellent (though he deserves a better-tuned piano): we were delighted that his programme included the Grieg Wedding Day at Trollhaugen that we heard him play once before in the same place.
We went to a rather disorganised basic Spanish lesson yesterday afternoon: I have extremely basic Spanish, and picked up a few tips: Martyn (who doesn’t) found the pace far too hurried. OK, it’s over 40 years since I did a little Spanish at school, but I was surprised to hear no reference to the formal second-person pronouns usted and ustedes, with only tú and vosotros in evidence. I read that in Colombia and Venezuela, the polite forms are now wholly archaic. I think the same is happening in Portuguese, with você/s replacing the over-formal o Senhor/a Senhora formulas, though tu still raises eyebrows except in close relationships - and social media.
The ship is comfortable, we hear no mechanical noise in the cabin, the linen is good and the steward service impeccable as always. But there are signs of cost cutting here and there, which is hardly a surprise, given the hit the industry took during the worst of the pandemic. More worrying is a bit of a slide in the restaurant service. We’ve no complaint about the food, but our stated preference for a fixed table assignment (so that we can get to know the neighbours) was not honoured until we stamped our little feet, and then with surprisingly poor grace. Our waiters are rather surly, and reluctant to accommodate requests for anything slightly out of the ordinary, eg bread rather than biscuits with cheese. I think there’s a morale issue: I can’t imagine the waiters like the snotty Maître d’ any more than we do.
Whereas on our earlier cruises we were provided with stationery and imitation Mont Blanc pens, we now get a pencil and an A6 note pad. Complimentary slippers are a thing of the past. And our itinerary has been curtailed: we are no longer visiting Cartagena, going no further than Málaga. This has partly to do with the need to replace a propeller blade on one of the Azipods, hence an overnight stay in Cádiz, where there’s the necessary expertise and infrastructure. But I think it may also be relevant that much fuel oil will be saved….
But here we are in Cádiz, with a thin drizzle and thunderstorms rattling round in the distance. We have decided against our planned rail trip to Seville: as Martyn puts it, we’ve already had one soaking this year, and aren’t up for another. We narrowly avoided one during our stroll in Cádiz this morning: the heavens opened just as we’d sat down in a café. We’re a bit footsore, so shall probably just do another quiz with old and new friends (we won both quizzes yesterday, and the first one today).
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