Cruise Day 2

I awake to sun blinding me. Mum has pulled back the curtains at 8 am. We’re not getting off the ship until Saturday (it’s Wednesday today) - there really is no need to be up early on the days we spend on board. I’ve had about an hour’s sleep. Mum is telling me just to stay where I am, not to get up, she knows I’ve had hardly any sleep, don’t mind her, she’ll be quiet, just lie there and get some more rest, there’s no rush, we don’t have to be anywhere, no problem at all, can have breakfast anytime, just lie there, just get some rest etc. She keeps this going for a couple for hours while I hide under the duvet.

I crawl out of bed and get ready to go for breakfast. We opt for the buffet restaurants on floor 15. I’ve never seen so much food or so many plates piled so high. There’s a choice of cooked breakfast, pastries, fruit, cereals – pretty much whatever you want – and some people are having it all, and lots of it. Mum has some fruit, I have some cereal. We go nuts and have a croissant each. Other people are going back for second helpings of everything, and piling it high again. Some people seem to be making bean mountains - I have no idea what's underneath.Watching them makes me feel a bit sick.

I get a good look at some of our fellow passengers: lots of wheelchairs; lots of walking sticks; lots of hearing aids; lots of very overweight people; a few young families, a few people my age, but mainly over sixty (at least). Hmmmm…

Next stop is the library where we collect the daily crossword – this is something Mum has done on every cruise and is a set part of the ‘routine’ – and go back to the cabin to complete said crossword. We wander about a bit more, trying to get to grips with the layout of the ship, but failing. We skip lunch, having had a relatively late breakfast, and head back upstairs at 3 pm for ‘tea’. Same as before – people piling plates high with cakes, sandwiches, scones – everything they can get their hands on. Something tells me these people have also had lunch and will be snacking some more before dinner.

Countdown is approaching – oh, the excitement. Mum wants to rush down there at 3.30, convinced it will take us ages to find the place it’s happening. I calm her down and assure her I know where we’re going (is anyone who knows me well laughing at this?). We finally find the room with one minute to spare. See? You should always listen to your mother.

There are about twenty passengers waiting to play – I’ve never seen such a collection of odd, badly cut hair and so many high waistbands and belted trousers with tucked in polo shirts in one place … and that’s just the women. They look serious. They look like they sit in front of Countdown every day, jaws clenched, teeth gritted, pens clutched in claw-like hands. They mean business. The game is played pretty much as it is on TV, except these contestants jeer, ‘That’s not a word!’, ‘That’s a proper noun – you can’t have that!’, ‘You’ve already had a turn at the conundrum!’ I’m a bit scared of them. Even more scared that, if I come here every day, I’ll get one of those haircuts and buy those trousers.

After Countdown it’s a wander round the shops then back to get ready for dinner – it’s our first formal night and men wear tuxedos while women wear cocktail dresses or ball gowns. I’ve got loads of those, as you can imagine. We have a formal picture taken, but don’t buy it because I decide I have fat hands in the picture. It’s true.

The dining room does look pretty special with everyone dressed up. Two new dining companions arrive – Richard and John, from Wales. They’re easy to talk to and good fun, so we hope they’ll come back the next night. We tell them they have to come back or other people in the restaurant will think we’re scaring people away. It turns out Richard and John are constantly betting each other a drink against the answer to various general knowledge questions.

John: So, Karen, what do you know about Haile Selassie?

Me: He was the president of Ethiopia.

John to Richard: Ha, that’s a drink you owe me!

Richard to me: ‘And?’

Me: He was the founder of Rastafarianism.

Richard to John: No – you owe me a drink. See? Told you.

John: Tut.

Our waiters, Manoj and Cletus (I’m sure Cletus is taking the piss and chose that name for a laugh) saw me cutting up Mum’s food last night, and tonight they insist on doing it so my food doesn’t get cold. Aw, that was nice – and worthy of a bigger tip, obviously. The vast majority of the staff and crew seem to be Indian. We also have a sommelier, Milgred, who is, I think, from Goa, but I could be wrong.

After dinner it’s off to the theatre again. A comedian called Johnny Casson who is stuck in a 70’s time warp (and is at least 70): casual racism, mother-in-law jokes, ‘take my wife – no, please, take my wife’ kind of stuff. And he has a mullet that has clearly been carefully preserved since 1972. He had one good gag: ‘Got up last night to go to the toilet and when I came out the cabin steward had made my bed.’ Yep, the cabin stewards work very hard.

We leave the theatre to discover we have now entered the Bay of Biscay – we know this because the ship is bouncing about, and so are we. If you’ve never seen hundreds of old people with walking sticks trying to walk straight - after they’ve had a few drinks - on a ship that is rolling around, you haven’t lived. I shouldn’t laugh, especially given the state Mum and I are in, but it's superb entertainment – better than the comedian, that’s for sure.

I plan to get Mum away from attending the theatre from now on – after just two nights I know I can’t take any more.

Back to the cabin and in bed by midnight.

'Better get some sleep - Barcelona tomorrow.'

'No, tomorrow is Thursday - we go to Barcelona on Saturday, Mum.'

'Ah, right - yes, October 1st. Sorry - I forgot.'

2.30 am: ‘Is that rain?’

‘No, Mum – it’s just the noise of the ship.’

5 am – there’s a strange rustling noise. ‘Mum, is that you?’

‘Yep, just taking my tablets.’

‘It’s 5 am.'

‘Oh. Right. I’ll go back to sleep, then.’

Try to sleep, but there's Countdown tomorrow. Maybe some sunbathing. And the crossword, obviously. And food - lots of food.