23rd February 2020

Crossing the Bay of Biscay

With swells exceeding five metres, crossing the Bay of Biscay was anything but comfortable. Continuous warnings throughout the ship advised passengers to wear flat shoes, hold onto handrails where possible, and take extra care on stairs and in doorways, sensible advice under the circumstances. Sick bags had appeared overnight at five-metre intervals along the corridors and even in the lifts, but I saw no evidence of them being needed.

One evening performance by the Dance Team in the theatre was cancelled, but otherwise, the ship operated as usual. Sue and I had to be particularly careful while playing table tennis; several missed strokes were blamed on the ship’s rolling motion rather than the usual excuses of distraction by passing cruisers, being dazzled by the sun, or the classic “I would have got that ten years ago!” We didn’t see anyone stumble, though I’m sure there must have been a few. Walking up or down the stairs became an unusual challenge; at times, you’d suddenly find yourself unable to take the next step as your centre of gravity shifted with the ship’s rise, while at other moments, you’d feel as though you were being propelled forward as it dipped into the next trough, a very strange sensation!

At night, the usual gentle creaks and groans of an old ship gliding through calm seas, rocking you softly to sleep, were replaced by louder, harsher crumps and grates. These, combined with the occasional unsettling out-of-body sensation as the ship lurched, made for a restless night.

Surprisingly, the restaurants remained as busy as ever, with passengers showing little sign of being put off their meals. The sheer volume of food consumed seemed unaffected, a true testament to the resilience of the human race! Perhaps NASA could save a fortune on astronaut training by sending recruits on a cruise through the Bay of Biscay in stormy conditions. They could learn a great deal from seasoned cruisers and their ability to adapt to adversity.

The Final Evening and Homeward Journey

On our last evening, we dined with our two remaining dinner companions, Barry and June. Over six weeks, we had come to consider them friends, engaging in conversations far deeper than one would typically have with those whose company they didn’t enjoy. As with Chris and Ken, we were sad to say goodbye. Uniquely, if we ever find ourselves near Bicester or in southern Spain, we will make every effort to visit them.

We arrived an hour late in a murky, miserable Tilbury. Our taxi had already been rescheduled to collect us a day later than originally planned, and after a quick phone call, I added another hour’s delay. We reached St Pancras with three hours to spare before our train to Market Harborough. While waiting, we bumped into Chloe, a friend of Sarah’s, who was on her way to have her bridesmaid’s dress altered in London. She’s soon setting off on a year of solo travel around the world, so we enjoyed exchanging travel stories. She was eager to hear about our trip, and we were just as curious about her upcoming adventures. We passed the time comfortably in a pub within the station, drinking tea and proper British beer, reading the paper, and browsing the internet until our train arrived to whisk us home.

Returning to Reality

Coming home to a cold house is never pleasant. Slipping back into thermals after weeks of shorts and T-shirts felt utterly alien, but such is winter in Britain, you can have too much of “Mad dogs and Englishmen go out in the midday sun” weather! Fortunately, the winter storms hadn’t caused much damage, just leaves, twigs, and a rogue rosemary bush scattered around the garden. A couple of fence panels had gone, but they belonged to the neighbour. All in all, we had got off lightly compared to some.

On Saturday (20th), the family descended upon us. They arrived early, said hello, dropped off their dogs, and promptly left to have breakfast in town. Sue got on with her mountain of laundry while I took the dogs for a very muddy walk through what is now the swamp that is the UK. They returned later for coffee and to receive the gifts we’d brought back from our travels. The most popular by far were the blowpipes we had acquired from an indigenous tribe in the Amazon rainforest. Much fun was had skewering a makeshift polystyrene target in the lounge, with varying degrees of success! These weapons are traditionally used to hunt monkeys and birds high in the trees, and in hindsight, they may not have been the most suitable presents for Lucas and Ellis… We just hope they use them responsibly, as the supplied darts are the real deal and lethal!

The family left just before lunchtime, with Sarah and Mia staying for lunch (Lee was visiting his parents). Sarah spent much of the afternoon discussing prams and baby carriers with Sue while I watched the Six Nations rugby, occasionally interjecting to express my disbelief at the eye-watering cost of a bit of plastic and metal on wheels!

A Rocking Finale

That evening, Sue and I went to see an excellent performance by Purple Zeppelin at the Cube in Corby. They are a Deep Purple and Led Zeppelin tribute band whom we had seen some years ago and knew would put on a great show, and they did not disappoint! A perfect mix of music for both of us: I love Deep Purple, Sue loves Led Zeppelin… perrrrfik!