Posts Tagged ‘P&O’

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!

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.

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.

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.

 

 

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.

Yes, it’s that time again. The time when the countdown begins. The countdown to the next time I get on a Cruise Ship. It may only be for 4 nights but at least for a while I shall once more be sampling the delights of cruising: something I think I was born to do. So in the time honoured tradition, of mine at least, here goes.

All together now:

8 more sleeps to go;

8 more sleeps to cruising

8 more sleeps till this the big fat fella gets on that boat,

with his bird, and his [Mother-in-Law!]

8 more sleeps to cruising.

Yay.

This time, we’re going on the Azura with P&O, mainly because we haven’t been on her before (why are ships called her by the way?), we need to get the Azura Teddy and Alfie Boe is on the ship; and Mother-in-Law just loves Alfie Boe.

As the trip is just a short one, we’re clearly not going anywhere exotic such as Bora Bora or Tahiti or St Lucia or the Galapagos or The Philippines. No, we’re going to Bruges in Belgium (via Zeebrugge), often known as the Venice of the North but more importantly, Bruges has an abundance of Chocolate and Beer; though giving my dairy reduced diet, I somehow think Chocolate will be off the menu for me. Yeah, right. My one big concern however is that every time we’ve been to Bruges before, it’s rained – let’s hope that this time it doesn’t.

After Bruges we’re going to St. Peter Port in Guernsey. We’ve been there a couple of times (once on the QE2 don’t you know) before but were unable to land as the sea was too choppity for the tenders to be used to take us ashore safely. So, and given that I hate tenders, if there the slightest hint of a wave, I’m staying on board and relaxing by the bar. And for those concerned we might be missing the delights of Guernsey, don’t worry, we have managed to get ashore once before and on that occasion, Mrs Me did manage to find a shop that sells shiny sparkly things so staying on board does have its attractions.

This time next week, we’ll be packing and lecturing the boys about not having parties while we’re away and today, I may, just may, get one of my Bicycles out  and go for a little bike ride. If I do, and I hope I do, I shall report back on how I got on, assuming of course I can still [get on]. We shall see.

Until then:

Go Podge, Go.

As John Wayne might not have said 🙂

I have a confession to make. Back in 2013, I wrote a post called [Milk: Good Food? Bad Food?] where having suffered from a number of chest infections a good dear friend of mine who, if she is reading this will probably throw her arms up in despair and come round to box my ears, advised me to cut out milk and related products. As I so wanted, nay, needed, to get back out cycling and I did actually quite like the idea of breathing, I did as I was told and the differences were remarkable. I’m not saying I was cured but my breathing did improve and yes, I did get back out on my bike and did actually build up to doing 50 – 60 miles rides so that I could take part in a 500 mile cycle challenge though France which consisted of 7-days cycling included 70, 80, or even 90 mile rides. And it felt so good. Podge was back in the saddle. Still fat, but back in the saddle nevertheless.

Sadly, having completed the cycle challenge, my bike was returned to the garage and I fell once into a life of dietary abuse. Yes, I went back to milk products. The lure of Shreddies and CoCo Pops was just too great.  It’s important to note that I could of course justify my actions thus:

  • Shreddies are full of roughage so good for weight management;
  • Scientists, doctors & professors had responded (mainly via LinkedIn) to my article on Milk  to say that there was little or no evidence to suggest that Milk was bad for respiratory problems;
  • Shreddies gave me energy;
  • My breathing was fine now so no need to worry;
  • I had my 60th Birthday and my Wedding Cruise to get through;
  • I liked my Shreddies.

Naturally, and conveniently, I ignored the fact that so many other people with respiratory problems had also responded to my post to the effect that Yes, Milk had been shown to be bad and cutting it from their diets made dramatic improvement.

Thinking back, I find it curious that those in the know (doctors, professors, etc.), really don’t know and those supposedly not in the know (those that actually suffer) actually do know a great deal: They certainly do know that when they cut out milk, the difference is quickly apparent.

Of course, through those winter months and of course my two P&O cruises, all milk related matters faded into obscurity. I’m sorry again Liz. And I gorged my way around the Canaries. I abused my digestive systems all through Christmas and then I just went overboard (no pun intended) in gluttony as we sailed around Australia and on to Singapore.

Then, in March, my health took a turn for the worse which was exacerbated (see, I do know big words) by the worst air pollution London (where I work) has seen for many, many years. This time however, I was really bad, to the point of being frightened, almost to the point of wishing I didn’t have to breathe any more. The Vets, sorry, doctors, put me on a course of steroids and antibiotics. I ate all these up but there was no improvement: walking from bedroom to bathroom still left me fighting to breath. The Vets 🙂 gave me a load more steroids and some seriously sting antibiotics. I ate all these. Still no change, though I diid notice the antibiotics had a strange effect on me, with each tablet having a similar effect to that of eating a tin beans: In hindsight, thats the only effect they had on me. I was still struggling. I went back to the Vets. They were perplexed. I had no infection but I was clearly fighting to breath. So they tried  putting me on water tablets(!). These were supposed to help get rid of any water retention (I made the mistake of telling them that I had developed Cankles while on holiday, which I normally do). Still no effect. I’d had enough: I didn’t know what to do: it was genuinely getting me down, and frightened. And then I had a eureka moment.

As I sat on the Sofa, tucking into my bowl of Shreddies, mixed with Cheerios, I suddenly remembered what I’d been told back in 2013 (sorry again Liz) and I’d actually advocated. Milk, yes, Milk is bad for people with respiratory problems. And not just milk, but products related to milk, such as cheese, which I happen to enjoy as well; though not with my cereals of course, were also bad. And as I sat there, ‘enjoying’ my breakfast even though every spoonful was followed by a fight to draw breath once more, I knew the answer: I had always known the answer. My dear friend Liz had given me the answer yet I’d fallen by the wayside once more. Some people are addicted nicotine (I once was myself, cue COPD); some people are addicted to alcohol (I’m not, but I do like it, honest, I’m not, I just like it, a lot 🙂 ); some idiots are addicted to narcotics (best of luck to them): I however am addicted to Milk, and I needed to kick the habit: I’ve beaten Nicotine addiction so milk should be a doodle. And so, with that thought, I made the  break.

24 hours makes all the difference

24 hours really does make all the difference because having taken milk and milk related products out of my diet, the very next day saw a marked improvement, an improvement that has continued to be so on a day by day basis. My breathing is easier, I’m more relaxed and almost a pleasure to be around. I’m not cured, but I’m getting better. I’m still fat but I’ll get thinner. I’m still old and, I’m glad to say, I’ll get older (a couple of times over the past couple of weeks I did wonder about that). I’m still ugly, but then the Good Lord decided that ugly I would be so I’ll probably stay ugly. Though, as I have told Mrs Me on a number of occasions, I am quite a catch so maybe not so ugly after all. The main point is, my breathing is improving and so long as I stay away from milk, and lose a bit of weight, my breathing should continue to improve. I hope so, I’ve a garage full of bicycles screaming out to be ridden.

And so with that, I really am getting of my milk and riding my bike.

And I don’t care if the effect is Psychosomatic or the consequence of withdrawing milk, the result is the same: I can breath.

Go Podge, go.

 

 

Singapore

My final, and lengthy(!), post of our Wedding Cruise.

Writing this last post about our Wedding Cruise so long after the event is actually quite difficult as time very quickly plays tricks on your mind and things that you think you remembered are brought into question when actually trying to reflect on them. But, the very act of writing allows me to relive what was a holiday of a lifetime, until the next one that is; savour once more those long lazy sunny hours looking at the sea, drinking wine at 5: or was that wine at 4; or even 3; possibly 2. Most definitely however, wine at 6 and most of all savour the whole event one more time. And that is the main reason I write these posts. Not for others to read, although I’m happy that so many do, and so many seem to enjoy, but primarily so that I can relive them and subsequently remember them as time goes by: and, as time does go by, so surely did our holiday as we rapidly approached its conclusion. >>>

Having successfully crossed the equator thus bringing us back into the Northern Hemisphere and therefore being the right way up once more, our journey continued to Singapore, which was to signify our ‘Journeys End’ and what a journey it had been. Setting off from London some three weeks prior, we stopped en-route to Auckland at HongKong (just for 2-hours to swap planes). From Auckland we joined P&Os Arcadia and sailed to Sydney, then Melbourne, then Adelaide, then Perth (getting married on the way), then Bali and finally Singapore. Prior to our arrival (actually it was couple of days prior to our arrival), we received the dreaded paperwork detailing our disembarkation arrangements. It’s funny you know, we all go on these holidays / adventures, we all love these holidays / adventures, we know they have an end date yet the arrival of this documentation always fills us with sadness. This one however filled me with a feeling of foreboding. It contained an extra piece of information. This piece of information warned us about the strict controls in place in Singapore:

  • Chewing of gum in Singapore was banned
  • Bringing chewing gum into Singapore was banned
  • Open activities of close affection in Singapore was banned
  • All controlled substances in Singapore are banned
    • But they didn’t say what was controlled 😦
  • Prescribed drugs were to be accompanied by a medical physicians prescription
  • Drug trafficking in Singapore is punishable by [Death].

Now, for those that know me, they won’t be surprised to hear me say that I’m a bit of a pill head. If I think it’ll do me good, I’ll take it: And of late, I’ve been trying various products to help combat the effects of COPD. So, before I left, I filled up 5-weeks worth of pill organisers. Of these, the morning and evening pills included 4 prescribed pills plus others that I [knew] I should take: along with a whole load of others (most of which I couldn’t remember the purpose, or name, of) that were ‘essential’ in maintaining my health & keeping me alive :-).

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Drugs, Drugs and more Drugs

Now, with the excitement of the holiday, while I would remember, most of the time, to take the morning and bedtime drugs, it wasn’t unusual to forget many of the others. The result of this was that as I approached Singapore I had 20+ pill organisers randomly filled with all sorts of tablets, most of which I couldn’t answer as to what they were. On top of this, I also take Codeine (occasionally) and I knew that was banned in Thailand and Dubai so; was it banned in Singapore as well? I knew not, so what was I to do? Would they ‘sniff’ out these drugs? What would they do? Would they lock me up and quiz me for days? Would they subject me to special searches (the type with rubber gloves)? Would I ever see my loved ones again? Would I be put to death? I started to worry. In fact, my worry was so great that I needed to go to the bar to think about my next course of action.

As I sat by the bar with a (very large) glass of Rioja I pondered. I pondered: what should I do?; what are my options? what will they do? what are controlled substances? My mind was racing, racing with all sorts of plausible and implausible actions and consequences. Eventually, I narrowed the number of plausible options to just five:

  1. Pack them all in my suitcase and play dumb: I might just get through ok;
  2. Pack them all in Mrs Me’s suitcase;
  3. Leave them all behind;
  4. Just take the prescribed drugs;
  5. Take one complete pack and argue my case.
  • Option 1 brought with it too much risk. If I got caught, what would happen? Worse case – I could get machine gunned for drug trafficking, and I would die.
  • Option 2 was a safer option on a personal level but if Mrs Me was caught, who would iron my shirts? Who would remind me to take my tablets without which, I might die.
  • Option 3 was quite clearly an over reaction (why?, they’re only vitamins for goodness sake) and it would leave me without my prescribed mediation for 3+ days and I might die.
  • Option 4 seemed ok, but would they ask questions as to why I have so many pill organisers for just a few pills. They might be suspicious, lock me up and ask me all sorts of questions, and still perform those special searches. And then machine gun me anyway, and then I’d die.
  • Option 5 seemed the better one, I could argue the case for the prescribed drugs and, hopefully, convince them of my rationale for the others, even though I myself had forgotten what that was. There was also the chance I might not die.

So, after two or three glasses of Rioja my mind was a lot clearer(!). I would elect for Option 5. This was all the more better knowing that I had no codeine left as I had eaten the last lot over 72 hours ago. Assured by such knowledge I was confident that I had made the right decision.  But first, Mrs Me had to be divested of all traces of Chewing Gum (she was a prolific chewer of gum). I did consider a ‘Special Search’ just to be sure but thought better of it. I then went through all my pill organisers and thew away all untaken drugs leaving just one complete pack. This was wrapped in a serviette that ‘may’ have been borrowed from the restaurant and surrounded with our stash of P&O Chocolates, which were placed on our pillows every night. All was then packed into the middle of my larger suitcase. Well, I think it was mine. With that, all cases were placed outside our cabin so that they might miraculously disappear overnight and subsequently taken ashore for when we disembark.

The next morning, we breakfasted at leisure as our disembarkation time was not until 13:00 – This gave us even more time to leisurely ponder our future. As the minutes and hours ticked by, there were numerous calls over the PA System for Mr / Mrs So and So to contact reception. Had they been found to have suspicious items I wondered, or had they simply not paid their on-board account? Naturally, my fear was of the former. Eventually, the allotted hour was upon us and still, we hadn’t been called. I was feeling confident.

 As we made our way ashore, I scanned the area looking for guards with machine guns, sniffer dogs, anything that might indicate trouble ahead. All I could see however was a long queue of disembarking passengers collecting their luggage, as we had to, then waiting to be waved into the next available immigration control point, complete with full luggage x-ray machines. This was it, I just knew we’d be found out. How was everybody else getting through ok? I asked myself. Surely, I’m not the only one who takes drugs, oops, I mean tablets.  One other problem though. Despite there being two ships in today, both disgorging passengers (the other was a Crystal Cruises ship), there was only one immigration point open. This could, I thought to myself, work in our favour.

As time ticked by, people were becoming more and more frustrated: there were at least a dozen immigration points yet there was only one operating. It was almost like trying to get back into the UK via Heathrow :-). Eventually, the authorities relented and opened a second desk so as to clear us as quickly as possible. Within no time at all, it was our turn. How should I play this. Should I look normal? What does ‘normal’ look like? Whatever I did, I had to be sure not to look nervous: they can spot nervous people and might single them out for closer inspection, I thought to myself. Then, it was our turn. A young lad, in uniform came up to help place our suitcases on the belt that would take them through the x-ay machine. Br careful I said, they’re full of fragile ornaments that Mrs Me has bought I said. He turned and smiled as if to say, Don’t worry, I’m used to this and in no time at all, they were loaded and on their way. I stood and watched, oblivious to the fact I was being called for to walk through the sensor and then onto have my passport checked. It was it this point that it became evident to me that I had no cause for worry. The immigration officer couldn’t have been more friendly. Welcome to Singapore he said. How was your cruise? he asked. It was great he I said, we got married, I said, pointing to Mrs Me who was waiting in the queue. Be careful, I said, she’s very bossy. Ah he said. That’s what happens when they get married, he said. You are now a ruled man, he said and with that, a look of sympathy, he waved me through. And with, we were through to join our coach that was to take is to Swiss Hotel, Merchant Court.

Conveniently, the hotel was located right by the river and handy for bars and restaurants. Perfect for those short exploratory walks out and about as we check out the surroundings and get a feel for what it’s like to be in Singapore. So, once in our room, and checked all suitcases were intact, complete with medication, our next task was to check out the bars and decide where we could have a late lunch. Our first port of call was the Octapas bar on the directly opposite side of the river. Sitting by the river, we were able to enjoy a welcoming cool beer (it was very, very hot & humid in Singapore) while watching the boats go by on the river and the rather fetching waitresses going about their business.

Hmm, I say, I think I’ll take a couple of photos of the girls (just for the boys of course). It was just at that point that I felt that now familiar stinging to my left ear. Why, oh why, does she always go for the already cauliflowered ear?  As we sat and drank, we looked at the map to work out what we were going to do over the next couple of days. We (I) worked out that the best strategy would be to take a boat to Marina Bay from where we could explore the Gardens by the Bay and then explore Marina Bay Sands Hotel and nearby Shopping Arcade (the last bit was the clincher). On the following day, we would be able walk to Raffles Hotel to enjoy a Singapore Sling as it should be enjoyed: in Singapore. And with that we went to explore the remaining bars while looking for somewhere appropriate to eat. Not long after leaving Octapas, we came across Hooters, this was another where I was to receive another thick ear. But wait, who did we espy but Adrian the ships photographer who took our wedding photo’s. I could do nothing. Mrs Me made a bee line for the poor man. Ooh Adrian, exclaims Mrs Me, what are you doing here? What Adrian said next brought me out into a cold sweat.

But I, rather meanly, laughed as well.

It would appear that as he (Adrian) was leaving the ship, he along with another crew member – the ships butcher (both of whom were contracted for the whole world cruise, and beyond) apparently triggered one of the sensors that picked up traces of a mysterious compound; a compound normally associated with explosives. With this, both the passenger and the photographer were bundled into an interview room where they were to cross examined for 3-hours as the authorities tried to establish why there trying to come into Singapore. Him being a ships photographer and ‘armed’ with nought but ships photographic equipment (that’s a camera to us mere mortals) seemed too little to convince them. But try as they might, they could ‘prove’ nothing. By the end the session, all that could be gleaned was they been detected as having traces of some black powder about them and all they could work out was that it had something to do with chemicals used in the photographic labs. With that, they let them go, leaving them with just half a day to explore before returning to the ship before she sailed for Kuala Lumpur.  So naturally, they went to Hooters for a couple of drinks. That was when I got another thick ear for laughing at Adrian’s misfortune. Hmm, methinks Mrs Me has a soft spot for Adrian.

After this, we felt the need to eat but couldn’t decide what we wanted. We walked up and down the riverside and up and down the side streets to  see if there was anything that took our fancy. There was, of course Spanish, at Octapas, but there was just about every other nationality including local varieties. We were so overcome by it all, we settled for McNuggets & Fries :-). Our evening meals, we had decided, would be taken at the Blue Potato Restaurant by the hotel pool on the 2nd floor. It was a good decision. The food was exceptional without being expensive and the service second to none: a recurring theme throughout Singapore.

Gardens by the Bay

The next morning, as planned, we caught a river boat to Marina Bay. During the trip, as a dutiful tourist I took many photos as did our friends, possibly from China, who were also visiting Singapore. As they moved around the boat taking various photos with each other we desperately tried to move out of their way until, in the end, I decided to join in and get in as many of their photo’s as I could. They seemed ok about it and we are still happy and smiley when we disembarked. Mrs Me and I now had to catch another boat to take us across the bay to the Gardens by the Bay. As our new Chinese friends they all moved together for a group photo of themselves with the bay and the hotel in the background. Beckoning me, I thought they wanted me to take their picture for them but oh no, they wanted me to be in their photo. So, back home, I’m probably described as ‘ooh look, here he is again in this picture – the old fat english man – he was everywhere’.

Anyway, we reached the gardens and having bought tickets, we joined a tour which took us for a quick 20 minute exploration of the gardens while listening to how they were constructed. I won’t go into the detail, they can describe that better than I on the website here. But I have to says, it was something else: a place to visit over and over again. I was even more amazed to find it was only completed in 2011.

Through these gardens it was possible to explore different regions of the world. You could even explore them from high above the canopies though Mrs Me did stay close to the point from where you joined this amazing walk across the sky.  Having scampered here there and everywhere we then moved inside where it was amazingly cool so that plants not liking such warmer climates could also be nurtured. Again, these could be seen from ground level and canopy level, and all levels between.

Raffles Hotel

The following day was checkout day (boooo) though our flight wasn’t until 11:00 in the evening so we still the whole day to play. So, bags packed, we checked out of the hotel and left our luggage with the porter and off we went to find the Raffles Hotel. It was in fact only a 20-minute walk so in no time at all we found it, just in time for a lunchtime drink. Having checked out around the hotel we found the stairs that took us to the famous Long Bar , birthplace of the Singapore Sling.

Just some more photo’s.

I’m bored now, so, now we’re off now to book our next adventure.

Byeeeee.