16th March 2013

Another time zone crossed last night, another hour lost. The clocks went forward again, so it was gone 9 am before we shuffled into breakfast, bleary-eyed but determined not to miss a meal.

Afterwards, we ventured to the library for a game of Scrabble. At the start of the cruise, there had been six boards available for use in situ only. Now, mysteriously, there were none. Yesterday, we scraped together a game with the last remaining Spanish board. Foreign passengers have smuggled the others into their cabins, confirming my long-held suspicion that all non-Brits are thieving scoundrels, deserving, of course, of the firm thrashings we used to administer in the glory days of Empire. (That’ll liven up the next Passenger Survey.)

Later, we settled on Deck 10 with our books, though Sue briefly watched a ludicrous basketball match involving oversized balls and hoops better suited to a pantomime.

Lunch was brightened by the company of Ray and Glynnis, our Mancunian tablemates, who were celebrating their 55th wedding anniversary. We had a pleasant chat, and for once, the atmosphere wasn’t saturated with Old Spice. A minor miracle.

Life aboard is beginning to fall into a steady Atlantic routine: meals, reading, more meals, half-hearted activities, and even more meals. Sue was positively gleeful in the afternoon to discover that a Scrabble board had been returned, so we managed another game, this time in English (she didn’t trust my ‘O’ level Spanish interpretation).

On our way back to the cabin, we stumbled upon the film crew, now apparently permanent residents, shooting a wedding scene. We watched for a while, and eventually I fetched my camera to video it. The effort of pressing the shutter button nearly finished me off, so I collapsed for a well-earned rest while Sue joined the faithful sunset walkers circling the top deck, like vultures eyeing the buffet being set up for tea.

It was another clear, blue-sky day, though the temperature had dropped a touch, to a brisk 28°C.

The evening meal was a Gala affair. I bravely squeezed into my suit, though my trousers now appear to be lined with shrink-wrap. Sue wore her elegant green dress from Beijing, effortlessly upstaging me. Once again, we’d been invited to the Captain’s Cocktail Party, but I overslept after my afternoon “exercise” and missed it. (He’ll cope without me, I’m sure.)

At dinner, Mario, our waiter, treated us to more magic tricks, one of which was rather too cheeky for these pages, but well-received.

The evening show, Circus Surreal, was another triumph: a blend of acrobatics, slapstick comedy, and computer-generated wizardry. Instead of our usual post-show deck stroll, we headed for one of the restaurants for coffee and tea. We even resisted the pizzas and late-night snacks the other passengers were shovelling in. I now feel like a continuous human tube, food going in at one end, regular flushings at the other. The glamour of cruising.