Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

Relections

Posted: February 2, 2015 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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Flying Fish

Sitting on the balcony at 07:30 this morning, with the temperature hovering around 75f, in my shorts and (coffee stained) t-shirt (I got a thick ear for the t-shirt) I was mesmerized by the sight of so many flying fish as we sailed across the Atlantic off the coast of Guyana towards Trinidad. I wondered why these creatures take to the air when the natural habitat is in the sea. I assumed they were all trying to get away from predators but came to the conclusion that as the fish were doing this for so long, the predator must have been the Adonia (our cruise ship). I watched them as they came out of the sea and ‘flew’ across the tops of waves before once more returning to their natural element. I watched them as they came out singly; I watched them as they came out in large groups (as shoal becomes flock becomes shoal). I watched them as they covered amazing distances rising and falling above the rolling seas; I watched them as they ‘flew’ and even changed directions. I watched them for an hour, maybe longer. Then Mrs Me arose from her pit (bed), breaking my peace and solitude and demanded her morning tea: “Right away My Duchess” was my response as I scurried away to tend to my husbandly duties leaving the flying fish to their strange existence.

So Near, Yet So Far

The phrase Drive By is an often used / heard phrase though normally related to bad deeds. Well on the Adonia we were treated to a ‘Cruise By’ of Devils Island – home to the perpetrators of bad deeds: Devils Island was previously used as a French Penal Colony (until 1953) for really naughty people (murderers, political embarrassment, constant escapees, etc.). The islands, there’s three altogether, look like idyllic tropical islands but I doubt the naughty people shared the same thoughts. I so desperately wanted to get onto these islands but the sea state was such that a ‘Cruise By’ was all we would be able manage. As we approached the islands on our starboard side (that’s on the right for normal people) and just about every passenger clamored for the best spot from which to take photos. You’re truly was stuck at the back, temporarily, but, under the authoritative direction of Mrs. Me, I did manage to worm my way forward. But then, my sea going skills, possibly just guesswork, worked out that the boat would not be able to carry on right round the islands and that she would have to turn around and come back with the Islands to Port (on the left) and with this new found knowledge I instructed (I know, I was taking my life into my own hands here), but yes, ‘I instructed’ Mrs. Me to accompany me back the cabin: “not at this time of the day she said”. “No” I said, and then I explained that from our balcony we would have grandstand seats from which to view the islands. Finally she agreed but only after the promise of a large gin & tonic with ice and lemon. From there I was able to take some amazing photos, all of which are securely trapped in my nice shiny new camera with no means to transferring them to my laptop. Why? Because the adapter I brought had been damaged; through my own ineptness I had managed to bend half the pins rendering it useless. So the pictures will have to wait.

The Amazon / Tapajós

Visiting the Amazon was to be the highlight of our trip consisting of two days sailing along the mighty Amazon River and a day spent ashore at in the town of Santarem, located as it is, on the Tapajós River.

IMG_2073

As we crossed the sandbar into ‘effectively’ the Mouth of the Amazon, we were still 60+ nautical miles away from the nearest lands! Yet even here, the water had turned into the muddy brown colour for which the river is well known.

Our first port of call, which was actually a 2-hour stop in the middle of the river, was at Macapa: This was to allow immigration officials and river pilots to join us, for the duration, to help navigate the river – sounds to me like a cool 3-day jolly if you ask me. Once on board, we set off and through the course of the first day, the Amazon unveiled its beauty for all to see: we passed isolated dwellings, little more than huts; sometimes built on stilts to lift them above the flood level, where the inhabitants would wave at us or even try to chase us in their little, woefully underpowered, boats. I have no idea whet would have done if they’d caught up with us (perhaps they were pirate scouts), but they never did, though it was quite amusing to watch them bob about somewhat precariously in the wake of our ship :-).

Day-2 brought us into Santarem and as we drew towards our mooring yours truly was dispatched by Mrs. Me to report back on our progress and to let her know, supported of course by her morning cup of team, when it was a suitable time for her to arise and view the town. When she did eventually surface, the temperature on our balcony, as indicated by my Garmin, was 97.7f: in anybody’s book, that is hot and for which I received my first thick ear of the day, for not warning her. But, arise she had to, as we were booked to take a boat trip to see the meeting of the waters, view locals wildlife and do a spot of piranha fishing.

The ‘Meeting of the Waters’ is an anomaly where the muddy brown waters of the Amazon River and the brilliant blue waters of the Tapajós River meet but don’t actually mix for a couple of miles and as such the two waters can be seen side by side as you sail along.

The brown is the Amazon

After this we went to a smaller tributary to view the wildlife, you know the sort, cows, sheep, chickens, water buffalo, iguanas, sloths, vultures, etc., etc. Oh, we also saw some more local dwellings on stilts. After a while we stopped and started fishing for Piranha. Mrs. Me took her place on the boat between my and another gentleman and inevitably, after the other gentleman and I had pre-baited [her] swim, Mrs. Me hooked a Piranha and, accompanied by all sorts of squeaks & squeals, she eventually brought the poor creature on board for us all to look at. I took photos, of course I did, but they are stuck on my big camera, so they will have to follow but be assured, despite me wanting get a picture of Mrs. Me kissing the Piranha, the fish was having none of it and stayed firmly with the hook and line; probably a wise choice as she would have probably have just eaten it.

Next will be tales of Caibbean Islands, and Captains Gala Parties. and, hopefully, pictures from my camera.

Byeee

 

Wrongful Arrest – Part 1

Posted: July 27, 2014 in Gardening, general, Health, Travel, work
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Now that’s got you wondering……..

Well, It was around 07:00 on a Tuesday morning, in the previous Millennium (mid 90’s). My wife was sitting in the living room getting ready for work, when there was a rather loud, urgent knocking at the front door. Door opened, policemen moved in demanding to know where I was: Outside are two police cars and a police van (where we were then living, near Chichester, was not an area where the police were generally needed so the event must have excited the neighbours somewhat). He’s not here, she said. He’s in Gloucester on a course, why do you want him anyway? she asked (I don’t know the exact words, I wasn’t there: I was on a course in Gloucester, nursing as it happened, a bit of a headache).

There had been an incident at Membury Services the previous day and the Thames Valley police were [very] keen to have a word with me about it.

Eventually, convinced that I was wasn’t in the house and that I was actually away on a course, and having confirmed that I did possess, and was driving, a Ford Granada Scorpio 4×4, they left. They did however leave strict instructions that I was to be contacted and told to telephone Newbury Police Station as early as convenient! So, within the space of 30 – 60 minutes what started out as a dawn raid with squad cars and vans reduced to a “can you please phone us when you can”!

The previous day, having packed my bag for a 5-day trip, I bid my wife farewell and set off to Gloucester. Having spent the weekend doing a little too much gardening my back was giving me grief so I elected to avoid taking one of the company pool cars and took my own car, which I had only recent bought. It was a nice shiny Ford Granada Scorpio for which I had traded in my shiny red Ford Sierra XR4 (both cars had a nice 2.8 V6 engine). The main difference, apart from all the sexy trim you get with a Scorpio, was that it was a four wheel  drive – Yummy.

My journey took me across to Winchester then up the A34 to Newbury (the by-pass didn’t exist then so getting through Newbury took some time) then on to the M4. Once on the Motorway I took a break at the Membury Services to make myself comfortable and get a drink so that I could ‘pop some painkillers’ before continuing my journey. Having purchased a coffee I decided to go and sit in the car, take the tablets and relax for 10-minutes – having elected not to take a pool car I hadn’t needed to go to the office first, so I was well ahead with my time.

4X4’s corner really well

The mighty V6 ‘roared’ into life after which, gears selected, we (the Scorpio and I) made our way from the parking lot and onto the road that would once more take me onto the M4. It was at this point I noticed that the road ahead was kind of bendy and twisty and was pleading with me to test the roadholding of my four wheel drive beast. So I floored it taking her up through the gear box at each red line and round the twists and turns before hitting the motorway at approximately 69.999999 miles per hour(!). This car was a good car. I had done well in choosing this car. This car and I were going to have such fun together.

Come back next week for Part 2…….

Cycling: the Early Years

Posted: July 20, 2014 in Cycling, general, Travel
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To start with

Technically, my first bike was some nondescript bike that I first managed to ride without falling off. My reward for completing a full length of the road with putting my feet down or crashing was 6d (about 2.5p in new money), enough for a bag of chips from the chip shop and still have change, but having no further recollections of such a steed, my [First Bike] was therefore my Raleigh/Hercules (my memory is misty), complete with 3-speed sturmey archer gears chrome rims and full leather saddlebag. I rode it to and from school, day in and day out.I even got knocked off by a couple of motorists, though in those days, the motorists were horrified by what they had done and would do all they could to make sure you were ok. By the second summer however, it was time to upgrade my bike so I bought some cow horn handlebars, removed the saddlebag and mudguards and went off-roading into a place known locally as Anmore Dell which was about 100 yards in diameter and 50 to 75 feet deep. This was a great big hollow which was slowly being filled in by lorries but in the meantime made a great playground offering as it did, cycle paths down through the shrubs and trees into a great wide expanse of ups and downs, ideal for my new off-roader.

The ‘hollow’ offered more than a place to ride bikes mind you. Being half filled with water most of the time, it was also a great place to play ‘war at sea’. Using a couple of old car roofs, we never knew how they came to be there, we would upturn them and use them as rafts to out manoeuvre one another until tired of paddling with sticks and bars we would once more return to shore. As our war games became more ambitious however, so did the dangers, culminating when one of my friends showed off his sugar bomb that he’d made (we’d been shown how to make them earlier at school, but I’m not about to divulge such information again) and decided to let it off. One flash, one loud bang, one cloud of smoke, one big fire, which took us what seemed an eternity to put out, and we were one happy bunch. With that, we returned to our bikes and spurred on by adrenalin of the ‘bomb’ we started creating ramps to jump our bikes over. First jump, no more than a foot high, I came tearing down the hill, hit the ramp, soared into the air and landed on my front wheel just before coming off and rolling into the water. I was wet but I would dry, I was dirty but I would clean up (a nice puddle and sandpaper always saw to that) before going home but the bike was not so good. The forks had bent back making the bike impossible to ride: The wheel had buckled making the bike impossible to ride: The handlebars were bent in all directions making the bike impossible to ride. But, ride it I did, the full half mile back home where I just knew I was in for a ‘not very nice time’, which did turn out to be the case.

Come to think of it, I got a thick ear then. Why is it that I’m always getting thick ears. No wonder one of them is a bit cauliflower like.

I remember sulking (believe me, this old Podge can still sulk for England) for weeks after that day not only because I’d been chastised by my father for trying to use my Hercules Push Bike to simulate the great jumps over ramps that I’d seen Dad doing so many times before, albeit on a motorbike – I should point out that he was part of the Royal Marines Motorcycle Display Team and was a regular motorcycle trials competitor – but also because the bike had been thrown away and not replaced. I now walked to school, day-in, day-out, a distance of about 3-miles each way.

Actually, it was only a couple of weeks as my Dad had taken it to his barracks where it was made good once more. But it was never the same bike again though it still took me to school and back and it did take me and my paper bag round on my paper rounds, 2 every morning and 2 every evening. Eventually though, the bike caved in and once more, I was relegated to walking and winter was approaching!

Christmas 1967

It was a cold Christmas Day with a very heavy frost outside, my Father (I was 14 by now) told me to come with him in the car to Uncle Bills though he didn’t actually say why. Uncle Bill lived about 8-miles away so the journey did’t take too long and were soon inside with Uncle Bill and Aunty June having a nice hot cup of chocolate and mince pies. I was then taken out into the garage and there before me was a beautiful Falcon Black Diamond Racing Bike, and yes, you guessed, it was all mine. There was however a catch. I had to ride it home. Now I had come, and had been allowed to come, dressed for a car ride with just a shirt and jumper as defence against the cold. I certainly didn’t have any gloves but I didn’t care. I had my new bike with drop handlebars, butterfly wheel nuts and a double clanger which gave me 10 gears. With absolute glee, I hugged Dad and Uncle Bill, said my goodbyes and set off on the 8-mile ride back home. I have no idea how long it took I just know that most of the ride was a blur, initially with excitement but soon replaced with bitter coldness and fingers that were so painful it was difficult to change gear or even brake. But, eventually I got home, close to tears with pain and with joy. Dad of course was home already and thought it was all very funny. I didn’t care how funny it was: I didn’t care how cold I was: I didn’t care that my fingers were almost dropping off: I didn’t care that snot and tears had frozen around my face. All I cared about was my new bike. This bike was NOT going to have cow horn handlebars and it certainly wasn’t going to go jumping. No, this bike was for serious riding – I was going to be the new Eddy Merckx.

I rode my bike everywhere; I rode my bike all the time; I became a regular sight around my local village doing my lap after lap trying to get faster and faster: at one point even the local policeman would ride next to me on his motorbike, telling me how fast I was going. Then my need for adventure grew once more but this time, my adventures were, not how high could I jump but how far could I cycle in a day, and how quick. Denmead to Arundel was a cracking route and a flat route. Denmead to Heathrow was another good route but very, very hilly and we never did reach Heathrow anyway.  My favourite route was Denmead to Alresford where another uncle and aunty of mine was the river keeper and house keeper for a Colonel who ‘owned’ a stretch of the River Alre: That was a hilly route as well.

And so, with the Falcon Black Diamond, my love affair with cycles and long distance cycling was born. And yes, I did like cycling up hills. I hated cycling up hills, just as much as I do today, but I still love cycling up hills: Only a cyclist would understand.

And now, I yearn for just one more ride. 😦

PS: The Falcon was eventually stolen by a [trusted] ‘friend’ while I was working at holiday camp.

PPS: I never became the new Eddy Merckx, but on this day the 20th July, Eddy wine his first Tour de France and, as it it happens, Armstrong (Not Lance) and Aldrin first landed on the Moon.

PPPS: None of the aforementioned uncles and aunties were actually Uncles & Aunties. We just called them so.

PPPPS: No more PS’s 🙂

Cruising with Alfie Boe

Posted: June 1, 2014 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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Mrs Me and I had never been on the Azura. Why? Because she was a sister ship to the Ventura and we had the most terrible time on her first Christmas Cruise. No need to go into detail as it’s all water under the bridge 🙂 now. Just save to say  that there were way too many people on board that really didn’t know how to behave in public, even to the point of people being locked up on board and booted off the ship at the next available port. But at least we got the teddy. But we didn’t have the Azura Teddy. There was nothing for it, the Azura was next on our hit list 🙂 and wow, what a fab ship she turned out to be: we will be going again on the Azura; we may even give the Ventura a go!

Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer

Looking through the, well thumbed brochure, we saw the mini-cruise to Bruges (Belgium) and St. Peter Port (Guernsey)  which also had Alfie Boe on board as guest / star entertainer. A quick phone call to Mother-in-Law (she loves Alfie Boe) and the decision was made. The cruise was booked there and then. We booked it in December 2013 and so had 5-months to wait. Fortunately, we also had a cruise booked for February /  March so we the wait was manageable – just.

When the final paperwork came through, which Mrs Me always takes charge of, she announced to me that there would be one formal night, which was to be a Black & White night: ‘Hmm’ thinks I, ‘a visit to Chichester is on the cards here, I just know it’. Sure enough, without me even seeing it coming, despite expecting it, and having just visited my Mummy, we [found ourselves] in Chichester, first in Russell & Bromley and then in Chesca. At a dizzying pace we had amassed a black & white dress plus a top of some sort plus a new pair of shoes (blue!). This woman is good: Real good.

Time to pack – for 4-nights

The day before we were to join the Azura, the packing began. Lined up ready for the off were one suit carrying case (big enough to take one formal suit, 3 shirts, 5(!) posh frocks, plus ties, cufflinks etc. One large suitcase for everything else and one mid sized suitcase for anything we ‘might need’. Mother-in-Law didn’t need a suit carrier so she just took two suitcases. Clearly, sailing from Southampton does remove the need to plan carefully when packing.

Jam Making

I don’t know the name of the company but I do remember once following a road works lorry with the slogan ‘Jam Makers since 1997’. I’ve always remembered the slogan. And today, as we head for the Ocean Terminal in Southampton, I think that lorry was back and had brought a load of his mates with him.  The traffic was diabolical with traffic nose to tail at just above stationary. No matter what lane I was in, the others seemed to be moving quicker. A journey that normally takes me 90 minutes took over 4-hours. My wrath knew no bounds, as I expressed my rage in Facebook. Oh, I do know how to let go you know.

Eventually, we made our way onto the ship and into our cabins. First impressions were good. The cabins were extremely well laid out with loads more room than I was expecting and better still, there was a box of Belgium Chocolates and a bottle of Champagne on ice  waiting in each cabin. This, I decided, was going to be a good cruise. All we had to do was get through the Life Boat Drill, a necessary event which we always want to skip but know that we mustn’t. Then, it was time to explore. Very quickly, we discovered the Glass House, which for some reason I kept referring to as the White Room, and the Blue Bar. These were to become our constant watering holes 🙂

But before all of this, we had been allocated tickets to see Alfie Boe in the PlayHouse Theatre. What a performer he was. Not only is he a great tenor but a great all round entertainer and brings the sound of opera, as well as other types of music, to the masses. He is a normal person who speaks like a normal person and has the ability to talk with you rather than at you. The two guitarists who accompanied him were also brilliant musicians and all in all, the three of them put on a remarkable show. I found myself sitting there, in the theatre on board a cruise ship listening and watching a performer who can pack the O2. This really was an experience. He did four shows while on board with tickets distributed evenly across all passengers and I believe nearly every one of them was used.

All at Sea

Bruges_Day_1

The next day was a designated sea day as we slowly made our way to Bruges (see map) above. Now, I do know that it is perfectly feasible to complete this journey, on a cruise ship, over-night yet on this cruise, the journey was going to take two nights and a day to complete. Believe me, we were going slow, very slow: I, yes I, could have cycled there in less time. But at least it gave us time to explore the ship and maybe, just maybe, seek something from the shops on board. Somehow, Mrs Me finds it nigh on impossible to go an a cruise ship without finding something sparkly to wear. This time, I was fortunate, the sparkly thing she found was actually for Mother-in-Law, which she paid for herself so all in all, this was indeed turning out to be a great cruise.

We explored the Glass House and sampled its wares. We tested out the Blue Bar and sampled its wares. We discovered the Planet Bar, right at the very top from where you can watch the ocean disappear behind us, only to be replaced by more ocean. From here you really can see nothing but sea. Very, very relaxing. Here too, we sampled its wares.

All to soon, it was time to dress for dinner, which to be the formal night. Remember me saying that I was told by Mrs Me that it was to be a Black & White Night for which she would need a new frock. Well, it wasn’t a Black & White Night at all. It was a standard Formal night but, giver credit where credit is due, she did wear her new Black & White dress and very nice she looked too. However, when asked as to whether her rear looked too big in the dress, all I could respond with was ‘I’m sorry, I have no point of reference to judge its size’ for which I got a thick ear. My cauliflower ear continues to be so. With my ear smarting, and wearing my nice white tuxedo, brought for the Black & White Night, we made our way to the Peninsular Restaurant for our evening meal. I have to say, the food and the service was excellent. The waiters and assistants all did their utmost to ensure we, and everybody else, enjoyed the whole dining experience as if we were the only ones there. I commend them all.

The next bit is a bit hazy, partly because of my smarting ear and possibly because of the wine but at some point during the evening, we espied one of many ships photographers: ah, I remember now, he was just outside the Glass House! Nothing unusual about seeing a photographer but this one was familiar. This one was called Adrian. This one used to be on the Arcadia. This one took our wedding photos when we were on the Arcadia in February / March (the wedding was in March, the cruise spanned both months). I could do nothing. Before I could say ‘look out Adrian’, Mrs Me made a bee line for the poor man. ‘Ooh Adrian,’ exclaims Mrs Me, ‘What are you doing here?’, threw her arms around him and land him with a big sloppy kiss (I winder what would happen if I did the same to one of the lady photographers. Actually, I know already: I’d ket a thick ear).  It transpired that as his contract ended with the Arcadia, he was offered a new one with the Azura. Mrs Me was happy: I can’t help feeling that Adrian was wondering if he is being stalked though.

That night, Alfie Boe was singing for the other half of the ship, in two sittings as per the previous night, so entertainment for us was to visit the Malabar Bar where they had a soul singer belting out, err, soul songs. Not a patch on Alfie but good nevertheless and, very pleasing on the eye – ouch, my ear hurts again :-(. And so, once again, with my ear smarting, we retire for the night: but not before a final nightcap on the balcony. As I stood there leaning on the rail, a surreal picture presented itself. We had stopped (look for the squiggly bit on the map just before Bruges) and dropped anchor. Clearly, we hadn’t gone slow enough and arrived too early. But, we were not alone, there were ships everywhere: all stationary: all anchored: all waiting; waiting to go into port. Wherever I looked, there were ships all lit up, probably just as well as they were all stationary, and it was dar, as if waiting for some mysterious event. Whatever the event was, I was going to bed, and so withe once last glance out to sea and one last slug of a rather nice malt whiskey, I retired.

Bruges – Again!

Having visited Bruges three time before, we were this time delighted to see that the day was dry – on all three previous occasions, it had rained – and so was looking forward to our trip into town.

Once in town, we were given instructions as to where to be and at what time for the bus to take us back to the ship (it would be an eleven mile walk back if we missed the bus!) and with that we were released into the town to do as we wish. And with that we headed off towards the town square. After about 30 minutes we turned back and headed for the town square, this time in the right direction but we didn’t care, after all, it wasn’t raining, yet!. For all that, I still like Bruges.

Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer

On the way, we decide to stop at a bar so that Mother-in-Law could sample the local waffles while tried a local beer :-).

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Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer

Then we noticed people scurrying around outside with umbrellas and rain hoods. Yep, it was raining. Time for another beer.

As the rain eased, we made our way back out into the streets and into the town square where we found loads of shops selling Belgium chocolates, yum yum. Naturally, we had to buy some. Actually, we bought a lot: I’m eating some them now. Laden down with our bags of goodies, we made our way back to the pick up point and back to the ship. But not without spotting a few bikes on the way.

Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer
Unauthorised use of this image is VERY naughty. @ Podgethepuffer

Back on board, we ready ourselves for an evening of entertainment from a young comedian who was in Britain’s Got Talent, just after Susan Boyle so was difficult to remember. But remember him (Gareth Oliver), we should. Looking a bit like Russell Brand, he gave an excellent performance throwing his voice in ways I’ve never seen before an thoroughly confusing the sound man. Then, he brings up an unsuspecting member of the advance to help him with his next part of the show.

Attaching a false mouth over his face, he was able to make the passing come to life as one of his puppets and make him say things, mostly to the passengers wife in the audience that perhaps he wouldn’t say normally, not without getting a thick ear at least.

Now, remember how the journey from Southampton to Bruges took 2-nights and a day? Well, we now had to travel from Bruges, passing Southampton, to St Peter Port in Guernsey, overnight: which, we did with ease.

Bruges_Day_2

St. Peter Port – Again

Yes, we’ve been here before, many times, and only once have we ever managed to get ashore. The only way ashore is by tender, and we hate tenders (we had a bad experience once 😦 ) and this trip was to be no different. It was raining, it was misty and there was a enough movement of the sea for us to take the decision to stay on board and enjoy the amenities of the Azura. Speaking with some passengers on their return, while it was ok, it wasn’t a wholly pleasant experience so we’re glad we opted out.

The day was quiet and restful though we did spend a bit longer in the Glass House a bit longer, ok, a lot longer than we had planned such that by the time we did get up to leave, we were quite mellow with Rioja and Rosé. But, I did manage to finish compiling our wedding cruise book and get that off to the printers so the day was a good day.

Then there was the sail away. A good old fashioned traditional British sail away party to good old faithful songs from early years to [almost] current years. Everybody was in good voice while the wine flowed.

The evening was spent in Seventeen, a different restaurant aimed at providing a fine dining experience. We were already getting that in the main restaurant but here it was up to a whole new level. The food was to die for, cooked to perfection as it was, the service was superb and the wine was even better :-).

Then off to the PlayHouse Theatre to see the Azura Theatre Company put on a show to beat all shows. To date, I’ve always been rather neutral on Ships Theatre Shows but tonight was different. Tonight was spectacular as they presented some of the most iconic characters and soundtracks from British screens finishing with an homage to James Bond. Their use of strobe lighting and pyrotechnics definitely left us both shaken and stirred but in a nice way.

With the show behind us, it was time to hit the Blue Bar before packing as we set sail for Southampton.

Bruges_Day_3

 

Time now to plan our next venture.

 

 

1 More Sleep to Go

Posted: May 25, 2014 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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Just 1 more sleep and then it’s Hello P&O Azura. Parp Parp.

Currently, Mrs Me is packing. Now we’re only going for 4-nights so we shouldn’t really need to take too much, but of course we are talking about Mrs Me here: Lover of Russell & Bromley and sparkly things and reluctant to leave anything to chance. Add to the mix that there will be one formal night and all of a sudden, packing for 4-nights becomes a logistical nightmare. She can’t for instance work out what to wear with her new dress, she bought yesterday (we never went shopping for a dress): She can’t decide between two black pairs, a nude pair, a black & nude sparkly pair or the new blue pair she bought yesterday (We never went shopping for shoes), so – she’s packed them all. The suit carrier is just about packed to the gunnels (many dress’s, 1 suit): The large suitcase is close to overflow and the medium case is now on standby.

No doubt it will work itself out though I dread the time we have to pack for the world cruise when I retire (we might need more cases). This is of course assuming I’ll be allowed to retired.

So, come in Azura,  many, many suit cases await you.

Go Podge, Go

1641 to go.

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