Cruise Day 12 – At Sea (and then back to Southampton).

Not a huge amount to say about today, really. Breakfast, packing, tea, Countdown, packing, dinner, dishing out tips, theatre, bed. That’s about it.

Oh, wait, actually...

I’ll start this post with a few things I forgot to mention.

The toilets: there’s a sign that says, ‘Please do not flush while sitting down as these toilets work on a pressurised system.’ Okay, firstly, who the hell is flushing while sitting? In what circumstances would that seem like a good idea? Is it the poor man’s version of a bidet to flush while you sit? Secondly … ooooh, I wonder what would happen? No, I didn’t.

Also, I should have mentioned that Johnny Ball (yes, that Johnny Ball – and for the younger folk, he’s Zoe’s dad) was a guest speaker on the ship one night, in the theatre, so they obviously expected a big audience. We didn’t go, but we heard people talking about it later. Apparently it was dreadful. Interesting when he talked about his early life, but then he just started rambling incoherently and people were leaving in droves. Aw, poor Johnny Ball.

Back to today…

So, on the events list today: SALE! The shops are having a big sale of lots of stuff all priced at £7.95; Art Class; Passenger and Crew Talent Show; cricket; Helen Young talking about the weather again (you can tell it’s a British company, eh); Bingo: Countdown.

Well, obviously we’re doing Countdown, but we may have to give that sale a wee go as well.

It feels a bit odd, this last day. When you’re onboard a ship it really does become your world, and the thought of leaving and going back to the real world is not very attractive – going back to cooking and cleaning and general drudgery, when it has all been done for you for twelve days, is a bit depressing.

The sale is insanely busy and Mum has to sit it out or she’ll be jostled and lose balance. I’m looking at some jewellery when a very posh sounding woman shows me two bracelets she’s thinking of buying and asks my opinion on which she should buy – she’s looking for a ‘young’ opinion. I really will miss this. She’s smiling at me … right up until she hears my accent, then my opinion goes for nothing and she gets away from me as quickly as she can. Meh, been there before and it doesn’t bother me anymore.

I buy a couple of things I don’t need, get Mum and go back to the cabin to pack. Why do things never fit back in cases? Do they expand? Do the cases retract? Why? I get most of it done, then we go for tea and Countdown.

The atmosphere in the peninsular room is quite terrifying today – original winner and nemesis are eyeing each other, scowling. The game gets under way. I feel like I’m particularly poor today, but to be fair, no one is having a great game. When it comes to the end, the entertainment officer asks the most recent winner his score – 41. Anyone got any higher? Original winner’s husband jumps up, ‘Yes! Yes! I’ve got 45! I’ve won at last!’ – turns to wife – ‘I’ve never beaten you before! This is the first time! Yes! And I haven’t just beaten you – I’ve won the whole game!’ Everyone claps and cheers – even his wife. Then I put my hand up. ‘Eh, excuse me, I’ve got 46.’ Man collapses into his chair, ‘Noooooooooooooo! Damn. Oh well, I least I beat her,’ he says, indicating his wife.

So, yeah, I won Countdown on the last day. I went back to the cabin and put on pair of Mum’s trousers and hitched them up as high as I could, then I cut my hair with one of those ‘cut your own hair things’ – I’m one of them now. Okay, that last wee bit may not be true.

Back upstairs to finish the packing, find Roy (our cabin steward) and give him his tip. Off to the restaurant for last dinner – aw, it’s very sad. Have a good laugh with John and Richard and we swap Facebook details so we can keep in touch. John’s sister is a writer, so he gives me a link to something she’s had published. I promise (threaten?) to send them links to my stuff. Tip the waiting staff and the sommelier. J & R go to the casino and we go to the theatre. It’s the last night, and I know mum really wants to go, so we go.

It’s Colin ‘Fingers’ Henry. Oh God, it’s Colin ‘Fingers’ Henry … and it’s one of the best nights I’ve had. He’s hilarious. Well, if you like Les Dawson’s style of comedy he’s hilarious, and I loved Les Dawson. He does that thing Dawson did where he tells part of a joke, then a flourish on the piano, then a bit more of the joke, then more piano, all the while shaking his head and rubbing his hand over his face in an ‘I-can’t-believe-I’m telling-such-a-bad-joke’ way. I’m in tears laughing. Absolutely brilliant. The woman who said we should definitely see him was right.

We head out to the casino to say final goodbyes to John and Richard, but there’s no sign of Richard, so a quick cheerio to John (who’s playing poker, surprise, surprise) and we get back to our room and an early night as we have to be up and away at 8 in the morning. All bags have to go outside the cabin tonight, so we keep the bare minimum in toiletries etc. as we’ll have to carry these in hand luggage – not easy when you have a wheelchair to push. Oh, I forgot to say that the wheelchair is now falling apart, but should just about last until we get home.

Mum gets to sleep pretty quickly, as always. I have my usual pillow and duvet battle for most of the night.

‘That’s rain – we must be nearly back in Britain.’

‘Nope, it’s the ship.’

‘Are you sure?’

To be honest, I’m not.

We’re up at 6.30 am, final things thrown into the couple of small bags we’ve kept behind, then down to the restaurant for breakfast. Just before our food arrives Mum says, ‘Oh – eh, I think I left my hearing aid in the room.’ I dash back to the lift. When the doors open, the woman we met at breakfast whose mum had the very early nights is standing there. We look at each other. She raises one eyebrow.

‘Hearing aid,’ I say.

‘Tablets,’ she says.

We fall about laughing in the lift, much to the confusion of the other people there. We have a laugh – very quickly – about the stuff that’s gone on, and really do wish we’d met sooner, then it’s her floor and she’s gone

I search everywhere in the room, but no sign of the hearing aid. I do see that Roy has found my mum’s rosary beads and prayer book and left them out, so I take them down to her. My breakfast is pretty cold now.

We get assistance going off the ship and help to the bus with our cases. It’s very well organised. We head off, waving goodbye to our ship, our home for the last twelve days, and settle in for the ten hour journey home. I fall asleep almost immediately – a very, very deep sleep

We’ve been travelling for a couple of hours when Mum nudges me, giggling – she’s found her hearing aid in her pocket. I fall back asleep and stay that way for most of the journey home.

And that’s it – the end of our cruise. Would I do it again? Absolutely – I had a great laugh, the food was good, the ship was lovely, the staff were (mostly) excellent, the company was good. If I could afford it I’d go again next year. But I seriously doubt I’ll ever be able to afford a cruise, so I’ll just have to refer back to this diary when I want a reminder of the laughs we had. I’m glad I wrote it up – I hope it hasn’t been too boring to read.