Archive for the ‘Travel’ Category

It’s Getting Warmer; A Bit!

Posted: November 16, 2013 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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As I understand it, the temperature back home in Sleepy Hungerford is dropping ever closer to the magical zero (such a nice round number). Well, I’m pleased to say that here on P&O’s Oceana the temperature is on the up: not a lot but definitely on the up. I know that because Mrs Me is sitting on ‘her’ balcony with her sunglasses, cup of tea reading her magazine. Normally, she would be indoors wrapped up in her ‘Noo Noo’ moaning about the cold. As for me, well I’m on my balcony in t-shirt and jeans typing this and feeling warm and chilled. Luverly.

As this is our second day at sea, there isn’t really a lot to say. The same as yesterday, all we can see is sea: sea; sea as far as the eye can see. 🙂 It is indeed a Vast Sea.

Anyway, after a light breakfast 🙂 we did our 3.2 laps (1 mile) of the Oceana before having a mid-morning coffee and a wander round the shops. Now those who know us will be only too aware that Mrs Me has never yet come back from a cruise without acquiring a new piece of jewellery so why was I surprised to find ourselves being drawn to the Diamond & Pearl shop. Pink Pearls and/or Black Diamonds were on the wish list this time. I just know we’ll end up with something; I just know it. But then having to put up with His Podgeness, I suppose Mrs Me (calling her Mrs Podge is probably not a good idea) deserves such nice things.

Back to yesterday; the one big thing we did do was to stick to our rules of not having any lunch. Until we strayed into the restaurant that is, then I weakened. The chicken curry was to die for, and the looks I got from Mrs Me were along the same line. The curry was however, perfectly complimented by rice and chips and a large glass of Merlot :-). Why is it by the way, that a lunch time drink always leaves you wanting to sleep? Because that’s how we spent the rest of the afternoon, sleeping, waking just in time to for our 5 o’clock glass of wine (Merlot, large, times 2). Then, it was time to dress for Dinner.

Not quite sure how P&O work out who sits with who but they’ve never let us down. We’re a table of eight, four couples having never met before yet now as if long standing friends. Yet again, dinner was a wonderful experience: the rump steak melted in the mouth like fillet steak, the vegetables were cooked to perfection and the profiteroles for desert were heaven. Our original plan was to have a bottle of Rioja with our meal, but still with the effects of the Merlot, we plumped for Prosecco which turned out to be an ideal choice, not too heavy and not too fizzy. Our hunger sated, and the time getting on, we all went our separate ways. Some too see the show, some to see the comedienne and us to the Yacht & Compass for the quiz. We were too late to take part so we helped another couple with rest of theirs. Guess what? They won a bottle of wine then they left :-(. Anyway, A couple of late drinks left us ready for bed and a good night sleep.

By morning, I thought we’d turned round and gone back to the Bay of Biscay. We were in amongst some big seas breaking and rolling all around us and yet, the Oceana seems to laugh at such things and just continues to sail onwards ever nearer to the Canaries. Actually, at the time of writing, we’re just off the coast of Spain & Portugal but we’re going in the right direction (south). And so, I continue to sit on my balcony just watching; watching the sea go by: listening; listening to the waves: dreaming; dreaming of being on a world cruise and really sailing the seven seas. One day; one day, we will do just that. In the mean time however, Canaries here we come.

Ooh, it’s lunch time. Yum, yum.

Sea, Sea, Nothing But Sea

Posted: November 15, 2013 in Cruising, P&O, Travel
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Having arrived at the Cruise terminal 1-hour early, we were greeted by a nice man who whisked away our luggage and a very nice lady who took away our car; all we then had to do was check in (when we were informed that our cabin number had changed), clear security and go straight onto the lovely Oceana. it was just like being back home, even though we haven’t been on board since the 175th Anniversary P&O Grand Event, the Oceana still feels like it’s where we belong.

Our only concern, well, my only concern as Mrs Me was just happy to be on the ship, was that our luggage labels had all been marked up with a different cabin number; when would we see our luggage? I kept asking myself. Naturally I need not have worried. We were after all sailing with P&O: trust me, they know what they’re doing. In no time at all, our luggage had been identified, relabelled and delivered to our new cabin. Our New Cabin? Oh yes, we’ll, we had booked an outside cabin with balcony, but when we shown to our ‘quarters’, we found not a balcony cabin, but a mini-suite complete with walk in wardrobe and jacuzzi bath and separate sleeping area with a double balcony. I’m always happy when I’m on a cruise ship, this time I was emotionally happy. What a fab start to my 60th Birthday Cruise. Better still, the fridge had a bottle of champagne waiting for us.

The afternoon was spent re-acquainting ourselves with the ship, enjoying a glass of complimentary champagne (the bottle of champagne still waiting in the fridge) as we sailed away from Southampton and off to the seven seas: we’ll, not all seven obviously! Then, it was time for a pre-dinner drink then off to the restaurant for what we know will always be a fine meal; we weren’t disappointed. The meal was, as always faultless, our table companions were extremely amiable and waiters were just fan, one of them even remembered us from a previous cruise. The Bottle of fizzy pop served by a wine waiter, who also remembered us, made for a most enjoyable dinner.

All that remained was for us to settle into the Yacht & Compass bar for a nice glass of Merlot, which became two, before retiring to our huge bed in our lovely cabin.

That night, the winds got up as did the waves and we were rocked up and down and side to side as we started our 3-day sail to the Canaries: our adventure had truly started.

With the dawn came gentler seas and yes, sunshine. I was even able to sit out on my balcony, Mrs Me had divided it into his and hers, at 08:30 in a tee-shirt enjoying my early morning coffee. No matter which way I looked, all I could see, was sea and sea was all we were going to see for three days. When you sail for day after day and see nothing but sea, you realise just how vast the sea is.

Anyway, we’ve had breakfast, walked 3.2 laps of the ship (1mile) had our 11:00 coffee and now wondering; what’s for lunch? Maybe my next post will answer that question. Pictures will follow. Meanwhile, ZZZzzzzz.

See also: Podge Hits 60

Taxi, or Not Taxi

Posted: October 17, 2013 in Health, Rant, Travel
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So, there I am; standing in the main entrance to Guys Hospital just before 8pm wanting to get to Paddington to catch the 20:35 so that I can get Young Nick back home to the care of his Mummy. On the main desk is a box of cards for a trusted taxi service. I phone them, the tell wait there and a taxi will arrive. So, I stand there, young Nick sitting looking as though he’d been through the wars, and in a way, he had. Then, in come a nice jolly caribbean man on the phone trying to get hold of his fare but saying that the number he’d been given was wrong. Quickly, his Podgeness sees the problem and make the nice caribbean man aware of the need to get to Paddington before the train leaves. If we missed the train, the next one was the little baby trains which ‘aint much better than cattle trucks.

Don’t worry says the nice caribbean man, I’ll get you there in plenty of time. So we bundle into his car and off we go.

First clue to something not quire right was when he turned south instead of heading over the river and north towards Paddington.

Second clue was when the trusted taxi company phoned to say that my taxi was outside. No, I said, I’m in your taxi now.

Third clue, long pause at the end of the line.

Fourth clue; what car are you in and what the drivers number. I couldn’t answer either.

Conclusion: the nice little caribbean man wasn’t a taxi driver, nor was his car a taxi.

There then followed 10 minutes of silence as we drifted, eventually, north and past Buckingham Palace and on towards Paddington.

Did we make it? Yes, we did. Did we get ripped off? Well no, actually we didn’t. The fare was less that it would have been. Was the nice caribbean man a nice caribbean man? Well, yes, he was. But he was also a scoundrel.

This time, we got away with it but believe me, there won’t be a next time. I was caught out and I couldn’t believe i’d let it happen.

His Podgeness was a dickhead.

This post has no point, just a replay of something of nothing….

Doo Daa’s in a Brewery (NOT)

Posted: July 18, 2013 in COPD, Rant, Travel
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So, there I am, sitting in the office melting and finding it difficult to breath [COPD sucks]. I played the sensible option (I thought) and called it a day and headed off early to get an early train.
Arriving at Paddington in good time, I checked the platform app to see that the 16:36 was ready on Platform 3. I got on, having confirmed the stickers in the window that it was actually going to Exeter, via Hungerford, and settled down.
After 10 minutes, everybody gets off. Apparently they’ve changed their mind and my train is now on Platform 4. So now, I have to scrabble my way round, along with the world and his wife to the Correct Train’ – the train on 3 is now going to Swansea.
Again, I settle down and get my breath back having managed to find a seat.
Guess what? This naffing train has broken but they’re trying to fix it.
Guess what? No such luck. They can’t fix it so we now all have to get off and dash to Platform effing 8.
Don’t worry #fgw, I made it. I even managed to get a seat: unlike so many extra passengers who have been shoehorned on the train. ( as the train was still at the station ).
How do I feel? Totally drained and knackered. I’d have been better of staying work and coping with rush hour. #fgw, you really are priceless. And to think, I pay you over £5000 per year for this privilege. Monopolies (that’s what the rail system is) don’t work.

Day 3 – Kidnapped By The Frenchies

Posted: July 16, 2013 in charity, COPD, Cycling, Disaster Recovery, Travel
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Angers was the town in which Matt was to join us. He had left dear old blighty a couple of days earlier as he had decided a 550 mile ride wasn’t taxing enough and opted to head for the Alps to take part in the ‘Etape de Tour’ before taking the train via Geneva and Paris to Angers to reach as us at 22:30, as planned. I wonder if such plans had worked out in the UK and our fantastic rail network. Somehow, I think pushing sand up a drainpipe would be more fruitful.

We had arranged to meet Christian Pinneau along with other cyclists from Ligueil at 12:30 so that we could all ride in ‘en masse’ to a celebratory reception arranged by the twinning committee and others from our twin town. For this reason, we knew we should leave Angers early not only to be sure we weren’t late but also to minimise our exposure to the heat.

As luck would have it, the first half of the route was to take is along the Loire Valley [a route I believe everybody should cycle], past some magnificent chateau’s and some especially nice Caves (wine cellars, where some luverly wines were traded: unfortunately, cycle shirts aren’t designed to carry bottles of wine so we had to pass on so many opportunities. Such a great shame, as just before Saumur, we passed the Ackerman Wine Cellar: if you get the chance, visit it. It is fab.

As we (by now, it was just Charles [65] and I [nearly 60 Sad smile]) made our way east, the creaking in Charles’ Colnago was getting louder and he was down to only four useable gears. A quick inspection revealed that the gear cables had shredded and subsequently shredded. We needed a bike shop, and we found a bike shop with a very, very pretty French Lady who could speak hardly any English. Somehow, us two old deluded Codgers had to charm the nice little French Lady into understanding our needs(!). Eventually after much pointing and gesticulating, she got out her tape measure (!) to measure how much cable we needed and snip, snip, we were done. Strictly speaking, we also needed some nipples to go over the end of the cables but we decided to give that one a miss: tempting though it may have been Smile

After a quick temporary fix and our spares safely in our back pockets, we set off again on to Saumur [missing Ackerman’s] for a quick coffee / beer stop. Using a combination of Garmin Sat Nav and iPhone Maps (which were rubbish) we eventually all met up at a cafe / bar by the river less than 100 yards from a bike shop. As my mechanical skills had been enough to give Charles his gears back though we decided to resist going there to get it fixed properly and just rest up and have a drink before setting off to meet the Ligueil Cycling contingent at the designated picnic stop at Monsoreau just east of Chinon. My estimation was that the average age of the 10 Ligueil cyclists was 50, at least. But, they were often highly proficient cyclists as they led us to the picnic zone at 20+ miles an hour. But wow, it was great with 16 cyclists tearing alongside the Loire with two escort cars and our support van, we must have been (and certainly felt) a magnificent site.

Having made our acquaintance’s and sated our hunger, and thirst, the time came for the last 42 mile ride to Ligueil.

The pace was high, the route was hilly, the wind was unfavourable and there was 42 miles of it. As the French Cyclists surrounding the English cyclists there was this feeling that the English were being tested: tested to the limits so it was good to note the two or three of the Frenchies dropped out the back but nevertheless, the English were surrounded: kidnapped maybe?

Mile after mile, the French surrounded and herded the English, neither sided really understanding each other but united by a common bond of our love for cycling, we all eventually reached the outskirts of Ligueil where we all entered the town, three abreast with the French flanking the English (still making sure we didn’t escape) until we reach Centre Ville and then the Community Hall for a big welcome to be followed by interviews and photographs for the local media.

After showering in the local campsite communal showers and throwing all our grimy cycle gear into the communal washing machines, we were each taken away by local families who had offered to put us up for the night [the hospitality in Ligueil was truly amazing]. Once settled in our adopted homes, we all taken back to the Community Hall for what can only be described as a FEAST. Salads of all types, wine, with a barbeque that seemed to be going all night, wine, followed by typical French deserts, wine, and cheese and wine. Everybody had a great evening and nobody had cottoned on to the fact that tomorrow was going to be the longest day. Anyway, wined and dined, welcome and thank-you speeches made, everybody went back to their hosts homes for a good solid nights sleep.

Oh, do you remember Charles’s bike, well the French fixed half the gears before we went to bed, and they finished the rest by 07:30 when we were regrouping ready for the departure (with heavy hearts and heavy heads) and onto Le Mans.

Go Podge, Go

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