18th March 2016                                   

This morning, we felt the ship’s movement for the first time in quite a few days. The placid sea of yesterday had been replaced by a swell, with little white horses undulating past our window, competing to reach some unknown finish line. Later, on deck after breakfast, we discovered there was a very stiff breeze, making it difficult for the crocodile line of early morning ‘keep-fitters’ to navigate their laps among the deck chair sleepers. The sky was clear, and the sun was up and radiating, eager to incinerate those foolhardy enough to remain asleep too long, under the false assumption that the cooling breeze would protect them from the ultraviolet rays.

We’ve been unable to watch any satellite TV for the past few days, but overnight, we must have switched satellites, as this morning we had new channels. Mostly Italian stations (pap), but we now also have the BBC World Service and a sports channel.

We watched the weather (as Brits always do) and noticed that the Mediterranean is having a rough time, with floods in Italy. Optimistically, we reckon that’s still another week away.

Unfortunately, breakfast didn’t provide any essential brain fuel this morning, as the two quizzes we entered, Cities and Sport, left much to be discussed about what might have been. Well, who needs a Costa diary or Costa pencil case anyway?

The rest of the morning was spent alternating between reading our books, watching the ‘Tango’ dance class, and musing about the odd ship passing by.

Lunch was paella on Deck 11, followed by two guilty bowls of caramel for both of us. It was that good! We sat next to a very elderly French lady, whom we often see around the ship, hobbling with difficulty and using a walking stick. She sat quietly sewing the hem of a dress, occasionally stopping to gaze out to sea. We first came across her on our very first night on the ship when she occupied the seat next to a very disgruntled Englishman, who was quite rightly defending the seat as his wife had just gone to the toilet. Despite speaking no English, the old lady won the stand-off, and another chair was fetched for the wife. I had initially chalked her up as a bit crazy and very French (the worst possible combination, in my opinion).

Since then, I’ve gradually changed my mind and come to respect this old lady. I’ve seen her hobbling around the decks, clearly determined not to give in to age and infirmity. Despite having no company to rely on, she is always dressed smartly (though her hair could do with a thorough brushing). You can tell she evokes a fondness from those who take the time to notice her presence. Waiters willingly carry her food to the table she chooses, and passengers rush to move chairs or relocate them so she can sit during performances. She acknowledges no help and asks for none. Such independence. We once saw her sitting on the quay among the tourist stalls in the Seychelles, chatting merrily with some locals. Such independence. This lady must have a history, and I would love to know it, but the loss is mine, as I speak little French.

Sue watched an Adele concert before continuing to read her book, while I ran, cycled, and pulled my way up the Red Sea. We met again for a general knowledge quiz, then after a break for coffee and peaches, another quiz, this time on film posters. Good, but not good enough.

As we did yesterday, we watched ‘Stage and Screen’, a show of songs and dances, before having our evening meal. The sea was becoming quite rough, and our walk around the deck was done in a stiff breeze. Luckily, the ship’s stabilisers are doing their job admirably, dampening down the worst of the swell (much appreciated by Sue). Tonight’s Scrabble did not go well for me.