17th January 2014

The sea was a touch frisky this morning, though nothing to trouble a seasoned sailor such as myself (or so I keep telling Sue).

Breakfast was in the waiter-service Britannia restaurant, where we shared a table for six with some well-travelled fellow Brits. Their tales of nautical escapades and “lessons learned” at sea were both fascinating and mildly alarming. I tucked into a splendid breakfast of banana bread, haddock, eggs Benedict on muffins, and a slice of ham. Yum! My waistline sighed audibly, but my taste buds were in raptures.

Sue’s morning was ambitiously academic. First came Whales and Dolphin Strandings, then My Favourite Planet delivered by our resident astronaut, and finally Immigrant, Radical, and Notorious Women of Washington Square. In between all this intellectual feasting, we managed a bracing stroll around the deck, a restorative coffee, and Sue even squeezed in a seminar on diamonds, presumably taking notes for future negotiations with me.

Lunch in the Lido introduced me to the sheer delight of mushroom brioche, of which I naturally had seconds. During our meal, I spotted two large schools of dolphins, much to Sue’s irritation. Sadly, by the time she’d worked out where I was pointing, they were long gone at 20 knots, leaving her long-sighted “bat vision” flapping in vain.

Back in the cabin, disaster briefly struck when I discovered I’d lost my cabin card. Panic over, after a frantic pat-down, I found it lurking beneath the seat I’d been squirming on in the theatre earlier.

Sue spent her afternoon in the theatre watching Haute Cuisine, a French subtitled film about a chef at the Palais des Champs-Élysées. She enjoyed it immensely. I, however, consider it against my religion to endure such Gallic claptrap, so I repaired to the Golden Lion pub for a pint of Speckled Hen and a good read of Biggles, British, true, and mercifully subtitling-free. After about 40 minutes, bingo broke out in the bar, forcing a tactical retreat. I relocated to a lounge where some magnificent violin playing provided a far more civilised soundtrack, before heading back to our cabin to check on Mr Pillow.

Later, while strolling back from coffee, we were rewarded with the sight of whales spouting off the port bow (getting nautical now!). On the way back, I treated myself to an ice cream while Sue nobly settled for a plum.

Dinner was formal, with all six of us gathered at the table. After the main course came the parade of chefs, an endless procession of whites and toques. I clapped so enthusiastically that my poor hands nearly required medical attention.

The evening entertainment in the theatre was a delightful cocktail of dance, singing, piano, and comedy, thoroughly enjoyable. We rounded off the night in the Lido with mugs of Ovaltine (I must be getting old) before retiring to our cabin.