Cruise Day 11 - At Sea (and getting closer to home).

Oh, the ship is bouncing about again, and we haven’t even reached The Bay of Biscay yet. It’s still sunny and warm, but very windy up on deck, so it’s not going to be a final day of sunbathing.

At breakfast we sit at a table with a woman who is 83 years-old – we know this because she mentions it frequently. She tells us all about her medical conditions, her living conditions, how she has been up far too late on this cruise, ‘When you’re old you like to get to bed early.’ She manages to give us all this information in the space of time it takes her daughter to get her a cup of tea (which she moans about). As her daughter sits down the old woman says, ‘I’m just saying, we were up awfully late last night, weren’t we?’ The daughter looks at me and rolls her eyes to the ceiling, then says, ‘Well, it was the latest night yet, I’ll give you that.’ She mouths ‘ten-thirty’ to me. Ha – I really wish I’d met her sooner. But then she asks if we went to see Colin ‘Fingers’ Henry the other night, ‘cause he was absolutely brilliant and we shouldn’t miss him, and I have second thoughts

We do our usual wander/crossword/ get a bit lost, then Mum goes to watch the movie ‘The King’s Speech’. I decide to give it a miss and explore bits of the ship I’ve never seen/found. After some searching I discover what we previously thought was the mythical lift to Deck 19 – it actually does exist. It takes you to the circus. Do I want to go to the circus? What if no one else has found the lift and there are starving, angry clowns and manic stilt walkers up there? Hmmm – probably best not to find out.

A quick look at the newsletter tells me I could do any of the following: line dancing; a talk on dry skin care; roulette tournament; whist drive; football; a talk by guest speaker Helen Young on weather forecasting; a talk on swollen ankles and fluid retention; Countdown at 4.15.

A wee sleep until tea and Countdown it is.

At tea we meet three women who are travelling together. The one who sits in the middle does most of the talking; the other two are kind of like her backing singers, nodding, making appropriate agreeing noises, laughing at her stories. It’s quite fascinating to watch – she even tells their stories for them, occasionally saying, ‘Isn’t that right?’ to which they nod and say, ‘That’s right.’ They’re really nice, a good laugh – just a weird dynamic going on there.

At one point during tea lots of people start congregating around one of the windows and pointing out to sea, going, ‘Ooooooooh!’. We can’t see what’s going on. The table behind us are discussing what it might be. One of them decides she’ll go and find out and report back. She comes back looking deflated. ‘It’s a wee boat.’ ‘What?’ ‘A boat – they’re all excited because they can see a boat.’ A boat, in the sea – well, who’d have thought? You can understand the excitement and clamour for good viewing positions. Tut. I was hoping for a mermaid at the very least. Or Johnny Depp.

Countdown time – yay. One of the conundrums is PRSTOUNGI. My hand is up first, ‘Posturing.’ Nope, they were looking for sprouting. People tut and shake their heads at me. I feel myself getting ready to shout, ‘But that word is there – it fits those letters!’ I stop myself just in time – nearly hitched my trousers up to just under my bust there and have definitely shoved my hair behind my ears. Need to be more careful. The man who won yesterday wins again. Original winner is desolate and consoled by her husband. Tomorrow is the last contest – it’s going to be tense – blood may be spilled.

It’s the last formal night tonight. Guess what the men wear? I’m wearing a dress I bought about four years ago and have never worn. I really don’t do dresses, except summery dresses when on holiday, and this is a dressy dress. I feel incredibly uncomfortable, but Mum loves it, so I put up with it. We have our photographs taken again, expecting the worst. How odd – we actually look human. I’m a human with slightly chubby hands, but human all the same. Finally a set of pictures we can buy.

Richard and John haven’t bought any photographs – they keep saying they’re just going to steal them, but we’re sure they’re joking. Probably. The waiters present us with a folder filled with souvenir menus from our trip – it’s tips night tomorrow, so they’re pulling out all the stops to make sure we remember how wonderful they are. Actually, they are pretty wonderful, so a good tip is guaranteed.

After dinner the lads are off to Texas Hold-Em again and Mum has talked me in to going to the theatre as The Headliners are on. This is the ship’s entertainment team and she promises me that they present West End quality musical productions. Okay, that’s pushing it slightly, but they really are very good. Great dancers, a couple of excellent singers and the whole thing is generally very well done. But what amazes me is how they can do their routines on a ship that is now bouncing around like mechanical bull (more exaggeration). There’s a guy on stage balancing on one leg on a bentwood chair – I can hardly stay upright in my seat. It’s incredible. They finish to a well-deserved standing ovation. Mum is just delighted that she got me in to the theatre again.

A couple of drinks and off to bed.

Last day tomorrow – it will definitely be too cold for sunbathing, but I’m sure we’ll find things to do. And there’s the packing, of course. And the last Countdown.

Mum’s out for the count pretty quickly, as usual. She doesn’t wake up and ask about rain. I’m quite disappointed.