Cruise day 10 - Gibraltar (there it is - over there).

It’s my birthday. It feels a bit weird not being at home, not having the boys appear with cards and presents. It feels a bit flat, really. I go out to the balcony and look for Gibraltar - it'll be that big rock thing over there.

Those who are doing the Gibraltar excursion have to be back by 1.30 as we have to set sail early to get back to Southampton on time. I feel like I should keep a look out for Richard and John. We’re skipping Gibraltar – no shopping to do - so it’s up to deck 16 to sunbathe again. As we walk past the spa Mum notices they have a special on their massages and decides she’s buying me one for my birthday. Yeah, ‘cause the cruise wasn’t enough of a gift. She’s determined to do it, so I happily agree. When we book they ask if I want a man or a woman to massage me. It feels wrong to say ‘man’ (c’mon, it’s my birthday), so I say I don’t mind. I’m booked in with Petra at 5 pm. I suppose Petra could be a man …

After about half an hour on deck, Mum decides she doesn’t really feel like sunbathing and would rather go down to the cabin to read – she insists she can find her own way. We don’t need any laundry done, so I take her down then get back to the hard work of lying face down in the sun.

At 1.15 my peace and quiet is not so much disturbed as blasted across the sea as an entertainments officer screams, ‘It’s time for the Great British Sailaway! Are you READY!’ I look up and see that everyone is waving Union Jacks. Oh dear. Music is blaring. ‘Let’s start with SCOTLAND! Have we got any Scottish people?’ A Scottish roar goes up, though it’s a bit half-hearted. I decline a proffered Union Jack. ‘Let’s say goodbye to Gibraltar, Scottish style!’ A horrible medley of ‘Scotland the Brave’, ‘Flower of Scotland’ and ‘You Tak the High Road’ booms through the speakers, followed by the Proclaimers’ ‘500 Miles’. To be honest, we tend just to say ‘bye’ in Scotland – unless I’m doing it wrong.

‘Have we got anyone from WALES?!’ Another roar, though still fairly muted, except for the Welsh widows who do Wales proud in the roaring stakes. Male voice choir singing stuff, followed by Tom Jones and ‘Delilah’ – crowd goes wild, much hip shoogling and flag waving. ‘And now to IRELAND! Any Irish people?’ Hmmm, not so many given the gentle shout – or maybe it’s just the Union Jacks that have stunned them into silence. Some fiddle music followed by … eh, I don’t actually remember. Maybe U2 … or Dana?

‘Now, have we forgotten anyone?’ Crowd screams itself hoarse, ‘ENGERLAND!’ Flag waving frenzy and it’s time for ‘Rule Britannia’, ‘Land of Hope and Glory’, God Save the Queen’ … and my exit to the relative sanity and silence of the cabin.

‘That idiot’s been on the phone again. I’m beginning to worry that he’s for real and when we see the news when we get back the stock exchange will have done exactly what he says it’s been doing. Or we’ll see him being stretchered off in a straitjacket. That’s more likely.’

I tell Mum about the sailaway party – she hopes I’ve recorded it so she can watch it later. Not.

After tea, things have quietened down on deck 16, so we get a bit more sunbathing done, then I have to go for my massage. The spa is absolutely stunning – beautifully decorated in shades of grey and quiet and dark and soothing and … just gorgeous. Petra appears – she’s a woman after all. Tut. She’s a gorgeous girl with an Eastern European accent. She gets me to fill in a form about my medical conditions and medications – this takes a while. She takes me through to the therapy room and I get ready to relax. I’m having a shoulder, back, scalp and foot massage (yes, I know that’s a bit odd, but that’s what I chose – leave me alone).

When she starts on my back and shoulders she says what every masseuse says, ‘Oh – oh my goodness, you have a lot of tension here – a lot of knots.’ The minute she says it I remember the line in ‘The Odd Couple’ when Oscar says to Felix, ‘You’re the only man I ever met who has clenched hair!’ This sets my mind off on one of its journeys: it was Walter Matthau and Jack Lemmon in the movie. It was Jack Klugman and Tony Randall in the TV series. The characters’ names were Felix Unger and Oscar … can’t remember. Oh no. I have to remember. I spend the whole hour going through the alphabet in my head, not relaxing, trying to get Oscar’s second name. ‘Cause it was really important, you know?

It’s Madison, by the way.

Once it’s all over, Petra says she’s going to ‘give me’ some oils for my muscles, some for my insomnia, some for … something else. ‘When you say ‘give’, Petra, how much do these actually cost?’ £32 each. I’ll give it a miss, thanks.

Despite being unable to actually relax completely, I do feel a lot better and am grateful to Mum for this extra gift. I also plan to watch The Odd Couple again as soon as possible.

I get back to my cabin to find I have a text. It’s a happy birthday message from my friend Rick. Aw, that was nice. There’s another text – it’s from Alfie – aw, he’s decided to text me on my birthday, even though we agreed none of them should text me in case it was crazy expensive. The text says, ‘Is it on?’ I text back asking what he’s talking about. ‘Oh, sorry – wrong number – was texting someone about five-a-sides. Happy Birthday, by the way.’ Tut.

When we get to the dinner table that night I spot balloons – lots of balloons.

‘Mum – you promised.’

‘It wasn’t me – it really wasn’t. Maybe they just know form your passport that it’s your birthday.’

I sit down – the balloons are directly above my head. The waiters come over and shake my hand and say happy birthday. Then John and Richard arrive, grinning. I might have known. They give me a lovely gift. It was ‘chocolate day’ on board today (samples of chocolates, chocolate cakes, chocolate fountain etc.) and they’ve bought me chocolates and chocolate wine. Did I mention before that they’re lovely? They really are. They also give me this cool wee card with owls on that rocks from side to side – it sits on the table and rocks with the ship.

After dinner the waiters all gather round and sing Happy Birthday – then they do this weird, slightly aggressive version I’ve heard them do at other tables. They sing ‘Happy Birthday to you!’ then do this kind of fast clapping thing, with a bit of foot stamping, then onto the next line. I beam bright red, but manage to smile. John and Richard are loving every minute of it. They buy us today’s cocktail, which is a Harvey Wallbanger, but the bar has run out of Galliano, so it’s really just a vodka and orange. It’s lovely, just the same. They down theirs in minutes, we sip at ours all night.

The guys go off to the casino and bars, we head for the quiz having decided that ‘Rob Lewis IS Phil Collins’ is probably an exaggeration. Actually, I’d rather he wasn’t Phil Collins – I hate Phil Collins.

Tonight’s quiz is just a mad carry on and one of the questions is, ‘Who do you think Laura looks like?’ Laura comes round all the tables and stares at us or pulls faces or strikes poses. The answers that are given include: Dawn French, Jennifer Aniston, Vanessa Feltz, Kate Winslet, Jordan, Kerry Catona, Jo Frost (Supernanny) and, cruellest of all, Vicky Pollard. I’ll leave you to work out for yourselves what she actually looks like – good luck with that.

Back to the cabin and the usual fight to sleep, hoping that the massage might have a positive effect on me and my insomnia.

Only two more days on board now, and no more ports. I’m quite happy where I am, thanks – don’t really want to go home yet. Another few days would be nice.

Ah, but there’ll be Countdown tomorrow, and the next day, so that’s something to look forward to.

‘I think it’s raining.’

‘I think it’s just the sound of the ship.’

‘You could be right.’

‘I could be.’