"Luckily, I don't believe in omens" (1/8/10)
Another holiday has come around and once again it falls to me to write the diary so the olds will be able to remember, three hours after we get home, what we actually got up to while we were away. I'm told that the reasons for calling on me to write these things are my expert yuse of the English languidge and my unrivalled comic...
...timing but, personally, I think they're just lazy.
The trip to Southampton was surprisingly uneventful, considering Dad drove. It's hard to say whether the reason for this was due to the lack of significant traffic or because mother and I had bagged the back seats so weren't constantly having to shout at him to slow down or him shouting at us because WE weren't concentrating on the obstacles that, in my honest opinion, the driver should be watching out for.
Arriving a bit too early to check-in, we were directed to a nearby IKEA to sample the delights of their £2 breakfasts and looking out from the car-park we were able to see the Artemis for the first time. I had a feeling that we weren't the only ones that had been turned away by the friendly car-park/terminal staff, one group of people actually mentioned the Artemis by name and there were others that didn't move when it was announced that the store had opened and seemed to be waiting for something else. But we didn't have long to wait and before we knew it, we were unpacking more bags, cases and rucksacks that four people could possibly need and headed for the Departure Lounge... well, some of us did.. both Mum and some random old person decided, for some unknown reason, that we'd need the arrivals lounge because we were "arriving" at the terminal. I guess it does make sense in a way but it would have drastically reduced the length of the holiday if a member of staff hadn't pointed out that they were heading for the wrong building.
Once settled onboard, the time slowly approached for the dreaded emergency drill.. there's a law that states that you have to practise making your way to your "muster station", be shown how to and then put on your life-jacket, stand around looking like a pillock for 5 minutes, followed by several "this'll never happen anyway" assurances from both the Captain and other members of the crew before you're released back to your cabins or whatever to promptly forget what you've just been told. I hate the drill because the life-jackets don't look big enough to go around me, you are sat there wedged in a tiny cinema (on this cruise anyway) with a thousand other people, thinking that any minute now your going to have to mention it to someone and the call will go out for the specially constructed "pachyderm life-raft". However, I was able to get into it without too much trouble but you can tell that the different body types of the people who would be wearing it really didn't come to mind when they were creating these things. In my case, my man-boobs forced the vest to sit higher than it would on Paul, for example, so my head almost disappeared completely inside the hole and I looked strikingly like a baby strapped into one of those chest harnesses that parents carry them around in. I mentioned to Paul that it meant I couldn't look left or right and wondered whether they could swap it for something a bit comfier, possibly the Pachyderm Life-raft? Paul calmly pointed out that should I actually need to wear the vest again that my comfort wouldn't be the top priority - he had a point and I had just discovered that I had enough movement to rest my cheek on the foam and, like a baby, doze off so I didn't mind in the end.
We then descended on to the Promenade Deck for our departure from Southampton with a "glass of specially priced champagne" (bloody cheek) and the musical talents of the Chichester Brass Band playing cleverly chosen tunes, such as "We Are Sailing", as we slowly moved away from the dockside. While texting Uncle Rob to say that we were leaving, my phone picked up a wi-fi signal titled "Tsunami", which was a tad inappropriate. I had a vision that, unknown to us, the "Artemis" name peeled away from the back of the ship to reveal that the ship's real name was "Poseidon" as the band began to laugh like evil geniuses, they started to play "My Heart Will Go On". Yes, I'm mixing my films there but it was the only song I knew from a movie involving a maritime disaster, okay? I'm just glad I don't believe in omens.
Dinner was really nice.. I had prawn cocktail, lamb with pearl barley broth, game pie, chocolate pot and a small square of caramel shortcake. There was a rather uncomfortable moment when the waiter, a nice chap from India, was pouring Dad's coffee and asked "black or white?" which Dad didn't hear so he tried again and said, "white?", I swear I heard Dad reply, "yes, yes I am". I got a fit of the giggles but Dad promised me that's not what he said and I'm sure he wouldn't of said that - not on the first night anyway.
"Lost but at least he's clean" (2/8/10)
The Artemis doesn't believe in following the normal laws of physics and reason. The corridors continue to shift and change of their own accord as you try and move from one part of the ship to another - you carefully read the map, head off in the direction it tells you but you never end up where you wanted to go. Paul wanted to go to the gym so I got up early as well and went for a walk as "morning constitutionals" are what you do when you are on a cruise, isn't it? So I started on the Sun Deck so I could look out to see for a bit with the hurricane strength wind in my hair and clear out the cobwebs and then wanted to head off down to the Promenade Deck (Deck 4) which I had been told equals a mile if you complete 3.65 circuits (very specific isn't it?). I walked down to Deck 4 and headed off in the direction that should take me past our cabin to the doors that led out onto the Promenade but I reached a dead-end so I head back and decided to go down the corridor on the other side of the Deck 4 as I passed a Steward, we exchanged "good mornings" and then I almost walked into another dead-end. What the hell is going on? I couldn't look the Steward in the eye but I could tell he was smirking at me but he didn't offer assistance and, being a man, I'd NEVER ask for directions.
Eventually, by some miracle, I found my way to the Promenade Deck and completed my three circuits and managed to get back on plenty of time to go and have some breakfast. I told the parents that I would mention this because I got a bit worked up about it yesterday, the crew on the ship is obsessed with the disinfectant hand gel stuff that they rolled out back when the world was gripped with the pig flu "epidemic" (you know the one where about 6 people died and they couldn't say for certain it was the flu that killed them? Yes, that one). They chase you down if you don't use it and I'm convinced if you refused they wouldn't feed you - it's just scare mongering, there's the whole thing about how our kids (well, other people's kids) are actually getting sick more due to being kept away from anything remotely dirty and considering the average age of people on this cruise is 146, I'm pretty sure they have done pretty well without being sterilised before being fed.. although, saying that, a lot of the wrinkleys on this ship are using wheelchairs, zimmers or walking sticks so what are the chances that a dunk in the sheep-dip before meal-times would have seen them much more spritely in their old age? I have found that my substantial acting skills have saved me from the stuff by ducking behind someone and then walking passed the stewards while rubbing my hands together as if I had got a dose. Oscar please!
Last night was also the first of the dreaded Formal evenings.. I think almost everyone dressed up in their tuxedos, suits and evening dresses. It took awhile for me to relax as suits make me feel so damn uncomfortable, being a jeans and t-shirts kind of person, but once the initial "Captain's Cocktails" bit was over and he'd introduced himself, we all retired to the Coral Room for our meal and I soon relaxed. No passive-racism from Dad this time though - damn.
"... where everybody drives Fjords!" (3/8/10)
The fact that this is the second day of our holiday but the first day in Norway has confused me a bit because there isn't the usual separation between "travelling" and "holiday" that you'd usually get. We are on holiday but we haven't arrived at our destination yet we've been ON holiday for two days - what's going on?!
Our first excursion was a boat-trip around Lysefjord and Pulpit Rock which left not long after we arrived at Stavenger. The ferry that was taking us on our merry jaunt wasn't as open as it could have been so any open spaces, mainly the top deck, filled up quickly and the race for the window seats began (we managed to bag two window seats.. woo.) after the tour had really got going and the guide realised the top deck was full, he reopened the small deck at the front of the boat. Dad managed to squeeze out first and wedge himself into a corner and there he stayed while everyone else swapped places and moved around him.. I did wonder why no-one seemed to be complaining and apparently it was because those people standing behind him were using him as a windbreak.
You know from word of mouth and TV documentaries that the Fjords are majestic and beautiful but they don't really prepare you for how beautiful they really are. Towering cliffs with tiny farms balanced precariously on the edge of small clearings that seem to have no way to actually reach them. The blue water ways that stretch for miles in land with their 3m deep layer of fresh water and then the heavier salt water layer underneath and in some places, such as Stavenger, that are deep enough to allow cruise ships to sail up them. A sight that would be glorious in bright sunlight or even under cloudy skies that would make everything look dark and brooding.
At one point, we stopped to feed some goats that the crew had befriended on their many trips and had gained a taste for bread. The three seemed eager for something other than grass and at one point, the greediest snatched a wedge of four slices of bread off one of the crew and with a cheery wave goodbye we left them with their mid-morning snack and continued onto Pulpit Rock. There has been some argument about how tall this cliff-face was and we've pretty much settled on "bloody high" that was formed when the glacier that covered Norway during the last ice-age (or during the main part of this ice-age, if you watch QI). Ice had caused some of the cliff-face to break away and left a square shaped overhang that people stand on and look out over the Fjords or, that is more likely the case, collapse and gasp for breath after climbing up for two and half hours. Luckily for us, we were staying on the boat to take some pictures before heading off and stuffing our faces with waffles.
Waffles with jam and cream.. what more could a person ask for for elevenses? They were more like pancakes with the waffle pattern than normal waffles, in my opinion anyway, but they were full of yummage so I wasn't complaining really. We were told by our guide that we weren't allowed to buy "Viking Helmets" with horns on them because they were historically incorrect as there has been no historical evidence that proved that Viking's helmets had horns on them. I tried one on though.. I think I looked quite fierce in it and the blood started to boil and I was filled with a need to rape and pillage the nearest English village but I restrained myself. I didn't buy it either and decided that I would buy one towards the end of the few days in Norway. [Update: I didn't. Sad Times]
We still had plenty of time when we returned to Stavenger so we decided to do some exploring and by exploring, I mean, mum wanted to go shopping. The problem with holiday money is that you have to be able to easily work out exchange rates in your head or you'd end up spending far too much money. Maths isn't my or mum's strong point and when she spotted a jumper she liked, it was a simple equation of 10 kroner to the pound so looking at the tag we worked out £15. Pretty reasonable, we thought, so we waited for Dad and Paul to catch up with us so she could ask them what they thought and we were quite surprised when Paul, the tight-fisted one, seemed quite shocked that Mum would even consider paying £150 for a jumper. "1500 kroner is £150," says Paul as Mum and I tried to work it out again. Several attempts later, we found ourselves back on the dockside and walking away from the shop, two of us looking a bit sheepish.
"You can't take some people anywhere" (4/8/10)
Mum and I have been befriended by two of the waiters that look after us at dinner time. Mum's friend likes to play little tricks on her, such as bring a fork on her coffee cup instead of a tea-spoon or avoiding her when giving out bread-rolls or always giving her a water biscuit when Dad and Paul have cheese at the end of the meal. My friend seems to be slightly obsessed with me, he'll come and ask us if our meal is okay, first the table as a whole and then me specifically or he'll just constantly ask me if I'm okay. We don't usually see them during the day but this morning they were both on breakfast duty, Mum's friend was guarding the door and making sure that everyone was dipped in disinfectant at the door. We were quite surprised to see him and mum asked what time he'd finished the night before, he said that he'd had his dinner at 1am and then was up at 6.30am ready to start the breakfast shift at 7am.. I don't think I'd be as cheerful as him after a 19hr-ish shift, 5 and half hours sleep and then another 19hr-ish shift but there he was smiling away. So we joined the queue for breakfast and as I was perusing the cooked breakfast items (scrambled, fried or both?) a voice called "Morning Chris" and behind the counter was my "friend", "alright, Chris? How are you this morning, Chris?" after quickly trying to fend off his advances while being polite, I answer and move on, and then I'm faced with 6 pieces of toast thrust over the counter and he states, "these are for you, Chris". Mum thinks this is hysterical as I'm getting evil looks from people around me or catch them glancing at my stomach that is already showing signs of the "hell, we've paid for it" mentality that takes over soon after you get onboard so I'm fairly embarrassed as I slink off to the table in an attempt to hide my shame.. at least I was able to catch Paul before he got his own toast and I was able to pass some of my horde onto him.
I don't mind that the waiter calls me Chris, I'm not going to demand they call me "Mr Boulton", "Master" or even "Sir Christopher" or that he's taken a shine to me and he wants to give me little gifts of toast or extra rolls at dinner but I'm a little worried that at the end of the cruise he's going to replace me and no-one will notice. Over the next two weeks, I'll start to notice that clothes are disappearing from my room and he'll watch me and learn my ways so that by the time we return to Southampton on the 16th he'll be able to slip something into my juice at Breakfast, tie me up and bundle me into a storage cupboard somewhere and take my place. Yes, he's from India but that won't be a problem because we haven't had a bad day, weather wise, so far and he can just pass it off as an exaggerated sun tan. Oh God.. I don't want to be replaced by a balding man from India.
Today we are visiting Eidfjord and looks a little like a town that's woken up one morning to discover that someone has decided that huge cruise ships will dock there and neglected to tell them about it. Exactly opposite the dock is a large hotel which would have an uninterrupted view of the fjord and the mountains that stretch out in front of it, if it wasn't for the Artemis rolling up and, like the fat man that comes and sits in front of you at the cinema, blocks 90% of the view for about 9 hours.
Our excursion didn't leave until 12ish so we had plenty of time to stretch our legs and wander around Eidfjord which was a nice little town, and apparently a rich little town thanks to the Hydroelectric power that is generated not far away, in fact, they are so desperate for people to move there that they are giving land away and giving you a little backhander as well.. sign me up! Dotted around the Town Square were stone statues that looked relatively new and were quite good, although the one I will probably always remember is one I've titled "Boy Buggering Cat". I think my favourite has to be the three based around a woman wearing a crown. The first statue was a simple statue of a lady wearing a crown - simple in the sense that they hadn't bothered with facial features or anything but they did sculpt fun-bags, weird. The two remaining pieces had the outline of the first statue cut out of them, for example, the first statue could be combined with the second statue and look like a simple block of stone. How clever is that?
It wasn't long before we were on the coach and off on the excursion which took us up into mountains along roads that were terrifyingly narrow and precarious that soon made me regret my small victory of getting to the window seat before Paul could. This was our first chance to see proper Norwegian wooden houses with turf roofs which are really pretty in an olde world way and when you consider that some of them could 200-300 years old look very good for their age. A little bit of turf knowledge for you here.. did you know that if looked after properly it will last for a hundred years or so? It's true and goats are probably the Flymo of choice when it comes to keeping your roof-lawn (Rawn? Loof?) neat and tidy but we have yet to see a goat grazing on a roof.
The Dam was a surprise because I was expecting to see a huge concrete monstrosity that looked out of place in a land of mountains and wide valleys but it was a more natural construction, made from layers of huge rocks, gravel and other naturey things tightly packed. The huge boulders that made up the outer walls were, by all accounts, put into place by one man (with a machine, I'm assuming) and must have taken ages and I hope he was paid well for doing it. Our next stop was at the [Name] Waterfall which is now constantly fed by the run off from the Dam we had just visited. The water drops 180 feet down to the valley below, which is an impressive sight, before finally finding it's way to the river that leads out into the Fjord about 100 yards from the Artemis. However, the peace and quiet of the valley was shattered by Baby's sudden bout of tourettes, we'd had a cup of tea and were waiting for the coach when suddenly he shouts "got you, you bastard!" while slapping his leg. We were all looked at him as if he had lost his mind and the old man in the little shorts (heave.) who Paul hadn't noticed was standing next to him, huffed and walked away in disgust. Paul insists that a bug had bitten him and he didn't realise that someone else was standing there but I think he's fibbing, I think he was being silly and didn't realise the man was there. I've noticed that he of the short-shorts has been avoiding the hoodie wearing yob that they were promised wouldn't be on here because it was an 18+ only cruise. You can't take some people anywhere, can you?
Back on the ship, we had "Afternoon Snacks" and then went up to the Sun Deck as were about to leave the journey out was spectacular. As we waited, we could look down onto one of the bridge balconies that had additional controls so whoever was "taking us out" could watch the people running about releasing all the ropes that kept alongside the dock. The Captain made announcement that the "Deputy Captain", who gave us a little wave, was taking us out and then, without any prior warning, blew the ships horn several times.. now I'm only 28 and I almost had a heart attack but as I've mentioned before the average age of the passengers on this ship is 147 - how did we not lose some of them? I'm not convinced it was done out of a playful sense of humour.. I will bet you a fiver the Captain had been paid off by some of the younger "caring" relatives that had come along to look after their aged, and wealthier, relatives to help them pop their clogs. I know this because I offered him 10% of my inheritance and the bugger didn't uphold his end of the bargain.
"Venicular! Veniculai!" (4/8/10)
Today we have booked a walking tour of the former capital of Norway, Bergen, so it's on with the comfortable shoes and off to breakfast as soon as we get up. I will admit to feeling a slight trepidation about going for breakfast because of my possible stalker/replacement so I don't think I've moved past food as quickly as I did then but it was all for naught as he wasn't working that morning anyway.
Our guide for the tour was possibly the Netherlands' answer to the BFG, he had to be about 7 foot tall and towered over everyone. He explained that he was from the Netherlands originally but five years ago had met a nice Norwegian girl and they've been married for four years and that was why he now lived in Norway. It was a shame that he wasn't the Norwegian and she was from Holland so I would be writing how he lead a raiding party of his fellow Giant Vikings into Holland and spotted this beautiful Dutch wench, who he threw over his shoulder and dragged kicking and screaming back to his wooden, turf roofed house where he kept her chained up so she wouldn't escape but instead it's some gushy love story.. can't have it all, I suppose.
I was quite excited about this trip because there was a fish market in Bergen that sold Whale meat that you could ask to try but first we had to get through three hours of following this giant round the city. Give him his due, he did keep to a pace that we could keep up with and our first stop was a Castle, built by English Stonemasons, for one of the Norse Kings of Old, King Olaf.... something... it was something violent but can't quite remember, anyway, during WWII a German ship in the Harbour that contained a shedload of dynamite exploded and the force of that explosion completely demolished the tower and foamier council chambers in the castle. When the war was over and the Bergen powers that be decided to rebuild the castle, the only image that remained of the castle was a tiny portion of a much larger painting and they had to make a lot of educated guesses to finish the project. A lot of the former wooden buildings of Bergen have disappeared over time but a large section of former warehouses have been preserved and have converted into a small shopping arcade. Laws have been passed to protect the wooden buildings and only traditional techniques, equipment and materials are allowed to be used on them if any repairs needed to be done, unless it is an emergency repair which is replaced as soon as possible. They were constructed without fixed foundations which has caused some of the buildings to start sinking which is costing a lot to fix but during the WWII explosion this was a blessing as force of the explosion lifted the buildings into the air and they landed in the same position with only slight damage to the roof tiles.
We finally found ourselves at the Fish Market and pretty much every fish you could possibly want was on offer. Live blue lobsters stared up at you with notices warning you not to put your fingers inside the tank and also tanks full of crab who were next to tables covered with their recently deceased comrades. But finally, after some searching, the Holy Grail of seafood - Smoked Whale.. at £40 a kilo, I thought it was a bit steep to buy some but the information onboard the Artemis about Bergen had said that you could ask for a taste of it so I got mum to ask and after a filthy look from the young lady behind the counter (well we were eating, ahem, into her profits) she cut me off a small piece and it was really nice. It looks like black beef, really tender and quite salty but I really enjoyed it and Paul didn't spit it out when i gave him some to try but he wasn't shouting its praises, Mum refused to try some on grounds of it being a bit "ugh" and so did Dad but he took the hippy-esque Greenpeace view that it was the killing of an intelligent animal and was morally wrong to eat something as clever as a Whale. I tried to point out that pigs are considered one of the most intelligent of farm animals (they learnt how to walk on their hind legs, read and wear clothes in that documentary I saw about that animal farm after all) but he was being stubborn.. you might even say, pig headed. Ahem.
After 20 minutes in the Market (forgot to mention they had Moose and Whale Salami on sale!), we headed off for our Venicular Ride up one of the seven Mountains that surround Bergen so we could see Bergen and the Fjords in all it's glory. It was a shame that by this point we were so tired, foot weary and hungry that all we really wanted to do was go back to the boat, have some lunch and have a rest but up we went and what a view it was - well, what you could see of it standing as far back as you possibly could with your eyes closed but when I was convinced that it was safe and I wouldn't fall to my death then I took a proper look. You could see the Artemis and the wide expanse of the Fjord all around us, we could trace where we had walked as well as viewing the Edward Grieg Concert Hall as it was meant to be seen - from the ground it looked like a mass of ugly concrete but from the platform, high above the city, you could see that it was built in the shape of a grand piano, Grieg's favourite instrument.
The evening concert was a tribute to ABBA and who'd think it would be so camp? They're usually so butch. It was very good but you had to laugh at "the little chap" who is a little OTT.. I guess it's because everyone is a lot taller than him and he feels he needs to "project" himself more but, personally, I think it just makes him look a bit demented. All the dance routines and outfits matched the song - dancers dressed as Las Vegas showgirls with hats that looked like a deck of cards for "Money, Money, Money" for example but "Knowing Me, Knowing You", sung by our little man, had cowboy costumes and line dancing. You could see people looking at each other with confused looks on their faces trying to work out what the deuce cowboys had to do with ABBA but he seemed happy enough as he camped it up - which, I guess, is all that counts.
"When do Troll's eggs hatch then?" (5/8/10)
Today we are Troll spotting in Ålesund.. the chances of spotting a live Troll was a bit slim as everyone knows that as soon as a Troll comes in contact with direct sunlight then it turns into stone so all we will be able to see are the fossilised remains of those trolls who were having far too much fun eating people and sheep to notice that the sun was creeping up over the horizon. Our tour guide today was called Odd, I swear it's true, and he was probably the best guide we have had so far, even though he talked almost constantly, what he was saying was interesting and funny and didn't just drag on and on about one subject. It didn't take us long to leave the city of Ålesund behind and head out into the countryside, an expanse of fields, mountains, great lakes and fjords that appear to go on and on forever and dotted throughout were little farms and small villages that were a good mixture of both the little wooden houses and more modern structures that seemed to blend in quite well. As we drove past little farms, we could see stacks of white bundles that, at first, we assumed were white versions of our black bundles of hay that litter our farms during the spring and summer but Odd let us into a little secret.. the majority of them were actually Troll Eggs.. what better way of protecting their young then hiding them in plain sight? The farmer wasn't going to destroy his hard work on the off chance that one or more of them could be a troll that will grow up to eat him, his family or his small flock of sheep - not as dumb as they look these trolls, eh?
Our first stop was at a church that had been built in 1798.. the one thing you notice about the churches in Norway is that no matter it's age - they all look the same. They stumbled on a design of a smallish wooden structure that is quite pretty a few hundred years ago and they've stuck with it.. the only thing that will change is the colour that it is painted. The vicarage next door was an ugly affair, a squat brown turf-roof affair that was as old as the church.. the church and the state are one in Norway so the villages themselves are required to provide a house for the vicars/priests to live in and I get the impression that if they can get away with fobbing them off with a house that looks like a good sneeze could bring it down around his ears then they'll go with that option. As we were milling about and lamenting the fact that the toilets were shut ("go when you can, not when you need to"), a lovely yet slightly melancholy tune started to play and echo around the mountains that surrounded the valley we were in - at first we weren't sure where it was coming from but then we spotted a solitary figure sitting on the step in front of the "vicarage" playing a tiny trumpet (we never did find out what it was called). It took us all by surprise and we tried to work out who it was that was playing and it turned out to be our driver, Alf. We all filed back into the coach after giving him a round of applause and continued our journey into troll country.. the main export of this part of the country is strawberries and Odd decided he would buy us some so we could try the strawberries that apparently inspired The Beatles to write "Strawberry Fields Forever" (according to Odd anyway!). He handed them all out and as he was making his way back to his seat, Alf came on the microphone to make a confession - the guilt, he said, was too strong - as I devoured my strawberry he told us that the Polish strawberry pickers wear Scottish kilts when picking so they don't loose wages by having to stop to go to the toilet.. Ugh.
Someone had asked whether we could stop somewhere that looked out over the valleys, the fjord and the mountains so we could take some photographs. He happily obliged and it wasn't long before we were stopping again, high up in the mountains and looking out over breathtaking scenery with Alf playing his trumpet again. After a minute or two.. he said he'd play one that we could sing along too and moments later, the mountain echoed with the sound of 20-odd tourists and a trumpet belting out "When The Saints Go Marching In".
We had steadily been making our way further and further up into the mountains so that we could visit Rauma, a vantage point that overlooked a hair-raising winding road and several waterfalls. I was very brave and walked to the viewing point that projected over the cliff edge but realised that the coach would have make its way down the road that we were all taking photos of to be able to get back down again - the road that didn't have much of a barrier to speak of or much leeway to allow cars and coaches to pass each other without having to go right up against the edge of the road. Lawrence, our Ship appointed Tour Escort (and, incidentally, the Captain's Son), caught on that I wasn't all that great with heights and took delight in making loud comments about the height of the drops, as well as how closer we were to tumbling hundreds of feet to our deaths - the little sod. At the bottom, we stopped for another photo opportunity and Alf treated us to a burst of "God Save The Queen" .. next stop, lunch.
A buffet lunch was waiting for us with some traditional Norwegian food, such as flat meatballs (burgers, basically), Eggs Norwegian (scrambled eggs) and Norwegian Potato Salad (Potato Salad).. the rumour was that the flat meatballs were made from moose meat but whether that was true or not, I couldn't say but they were nice. We had an hour and a half to eat and wander about but there wasn't much to see so after dinner we spent some time Troll Watching.. similar to Cloud Watching but with mountains.. it gave us something to do anyway. To continue our troll watching theme, our next stop was at The Troll Wall, a mountain with an almost vertical 3300 foot drop that was scaled for the first time 24 years ago and took two weeks to get to the top.. for a while, people would climb to the top so they could parachute back down again but after some accidents a law was passed to make it illegal to jump off it wearing a parachute - Odd pointed out that jumping off without one was fine but as soon as you put on a parachute, you were in trouble.
Back in Ålesund we had some time spare so we were taken on a tour of the city starting with the observation point at the top of the mountain and finishing at the docks. The mountain is covered in old concrete bunkers from German occupation during WWII and you had an amazing view of the city below but it was raining so no-one wanted to get out so we turned round and made our way back down the mountain so we could see the different architecture in the city. In the early 1900s, there was a fire that destroyed most of the centre of the city, killing 1 person but leaving 15,000 odd people homeless. As you move towards the centre of the city, the wooden buildings stop and more "modern" brick buildings take over - considering how much of the city was destroyed by fire, it's a miracle that only one person was killed and she died because, after being rescued once, she returned to save her sewing machine but died in the attempt.
At one point, much to the amusement of Lawrence and myself, we were being chased through the city by an old lady with suitcase. As were heading back to the ship, we passed this old woman who was standing beside the road with her suitcase.. obviously she was going on holiday and was expecting a coach, that looked like ours, to be coming to collect her but when it drove passed her, she must have thought it hadn't seen her or she was I'm the wrong place so she gave chase. We were circling a marina at the time and for a few minutes she was obscured by some buildings but when we cleared the buildings, we could see to the other side and she was still following us - we could see her purple umbrella. She must have then given up because she stopped, only to be overtaken by another P&O rented coach and she gave chase again. We then turned away from the Marina so I lost track of her.. I wonder if she followed the second coach all the way back to the Artemis.
"More wine, Mr Stephen?" (6/8/10)
It was another day at sea today as we left Norway and headed out towards our three day visit to Iceland. We didn't have much planned for the day and after spending most of the day reading, relaxing and snoozing it didn't seem to last very long and we were soon getting ready for our second formal evening and the dreaded formal photographs that Mum has wanted us to have since we got onboard. It seems a strange thing to say but I don't know how to smile for photographs.. I smile how I would usually smile (corners of the mouth up and mouth closed) but then I'm told that this isn't good enough and I have to show my teeth - but it doesn't feel right and I'm sure I'm making a stupid face then. The photographers also don't give you enough time to sort yourself out.. you're trying to get into position, pose or whatever but they've already taken the photo and thanking you.. in the case of one of the photos that were taken I'm not even looking at the camera, something has caught my attention and looking somewhere else.
Tonight's culture collision is brought to you by Dad and the Wine Waiter.. we always feel sorry for the wine waiter because he tries so hard to get us to buy some of his specially priced after-dinner drinks "only £1.30 for a single measure" and we always say no but he keeps on trying and he's always got a smile and warm welcome for you. He always calls Dad, "Mr Boulton" and mum "the lady" (or on rare occasions "Mrs Boulton") so tonight, just to be friendly, Dad said that he didn't mind if he wanted to call him "Stephen" as we are all friends here, right? The waiter smiled politely and said "Thank you, Mr Stephen" which we all thought was amusing and the evening went on and called him "Mr Stephen" a few times and then reverted back to "Mr Boulton" so Dad tried again and the waiter seemed quite embarrassed about the whole thing, I guess we thought that it was something to do with P&O and not allowing him to call people by their first names but after a few attempts he told us that it was a cultural thing - he had been brought up to show respect by not calling anyone older than him by their first name so he had tried to work round his traditions and not offending Dad by calling him "Mr Stephen" .. they eventually worked out a compromise by getting him to agree to call dad "Mr Boulton" but think "Stephen" - I think he was just humouring Dad there.
We retired to the Horizon Lounge after dinner and joined in the quiz that was taking part up there. We weren't officially taking part as we were giving our answers in or anything but we just took part amongst ourselves.. I think we would have got 17 out of 20 questions right so we should have taken part properly really but I think we decided that we'd do it one night before we got home. I also saw Boycie pop in briefly before heading back out with a crowd of people.. no-one else believed me but it was definitely him.
"Come fly with me" (7/8/10)
Today I can only report on one excursion as we split into two groups, Paul and I are flying to Grimsey Island and Mum and Dad are off on a tour of waterfalls and other such Icelandic geological excitement. Paul and I were on the afternoon excursion so we spent the morning reading and catching up on "homework" (this diary) in the Horizon Lounge before meeting the coach that would take us to the little domestic airport that served flights to Grimsey and Reykjavik as well being home to some private planes as well.
We didn't have to wait long before we were all boarding a twin propellor 20 seater and wondering, out loud, whose bright idea this excursion was - unfortunately it was mine so I shut up pretty quickly. The taking off was smooth enough but was a bit bumpy until we left the mountains behind and were flying over open water.. the flight took about 30 minutes to get to Grimsey and that's when then REAL fun began. As the island came into view, the engine noise decreased as we slowed down, outside the window you could just about see the cliffs and little white dots swooping about as our approach disturbed the Puffins etc. The plane suddenly banked right, the cliffs that appeared so far away moments before were suddenly right outside the windows and without warning, the engines roared as we suddenly gained speed and I can honestly say I have never been so scared in my life.. I thought that was it (I think I even grabbed Paul's leg out of sheer terror). "This is it.. we're dead," I thought, they must have made a mistake, they weren't paying attention to what they were supposed to be doing and we are going to die.
As I was turning to Paul to say a heartfelt goodbye, apologise for any wrongdoing (I stole a lemon BonBon from his stash earlier that day) and get all the gushiness out of the way..
Me: "you were a great brother"
Paul: "Yes, yes I was"
Me: "I love you"
Paul: "I know"
.. the plane landed. I have never been so relieved or felt so ridiculous in all my days but we had landed safely and that's all that counts (releasing my death grip on Paul's leg took some doing though). Grimsey's small village and cod processing plant is home to 1100 people during the summer and as little as 80 during term time as their school can only teach people up to the age of 14 and then they return to the mainland to go to school. The rest of the island is the territory of the Puffins, Arctic Turns and Kittiewakes (or however you spell them).. we were taken for a walk along the cliff edge so we could see three sections of cliff that had been taken over by puffins. At this point, we realised that we had someone in our group that didn't really understand what binoculars were for.. our guide, a local who was back from school for the summer, told us not to get too close or we'd spook them and they'd fly away as even though there were plenty of people on island they weren't that used to humans. So we crept forward, cameras at the ready to take some shots of the puffins but one person, armed with only binoculars, would march like he was on a mission up to the cliff edge, scare the puffins away and then look through his binoculars for a few minutes and wonder why they kept flying away. Binoculars are for things at a distance, idiot.. so a couple of times we had to wait for a brave few to return59 their nests before we could get some photographs of them. The other incident of the trip was the possible egg thieves.. there was a couple who suddenly shot off towards a cliff and were watching us a bit guiltily. We all stared at them as they crouched down and took a cairn apart and then opened the bag they had brought with them. We were all moving slowly forward so we wouldn't loose sight of our guide so we missed what happened next - we're not 100% sure whether they put something in (Paul thinks they were leaving someone's ashes) or taking something out (I think they were thieves) but the guilty look on their faces took a while to disappear.
A minibus tour followed our walk so we could quickly get round more of the island than if we had walked it. We saw the their small docks, with their fishing boats (mainly cod fishing) and processing warehouse, their swimming pool (stays open 2 hours, 4 days a week) and the yellow lighthouse. The return journey was a lot smoother and only took 20 minutes (well, it's always quicker down hill..) and no life threatening landing this time. We had already received a P&O certificate to say that we had crossed into the arctic circle but we got a special one from the airport at Grimsey signed by the Pilot to say that we had flown over it.. its much better than the P&O one.
At dinner, my stalker seemed a bit off with me and made some digs at me about the fact I drank too much coke especially considering it wasn't diet coke. Bloody cheek.. no-one could remember me offending him (I think it's because I keep putting the receipts for the drinks away so he can't find out my room number and steal my clothes and hindering his attempts to steal my life). Although I was a bit concerned when my main course turns up with a piece of bread cut into a heart shape... unfortunately no-one else had the same thing so I couldn't find out whether anyone else had the same thing. I hope they did.
"A Foggy Day In Isafjordur Town" (8/8/10)
Today turned out to be a bit of a disaster as Mum and I were going to have a nice quiet afternoon without Paul and Dad as they were off on an excursion and we decided to stay onboard (the fact we would have to be taken to port in a Tender might have something to do with it), however, when we woke up.. we were surrounded by eerie thick fog that was keeping us out of Isafjordur. We decided to have a morning constitutional anyway but I couldn't help feeling a bit concerned about Zombie attacks.. how many times have we seen them attack in films when people are caught in thick fog in remote location? It wasn't inconceivable that the first zombie attack should take place somewhere outside the port of Isafjordur as we waited patiently for it to lift.
It wasn't long before the Captain made the decision that there wasn't much point waiting any longer as the time it would take us to get the tenders off the boat, transport everyone across and there wouldn't be much time for trips so we might as well just head towards Reykjavik and have an extra "at sea" day. Give the Cruise Director credit, it didn't take very long for her to work out an extra day's entertainment with dance classes, quizzes, music from the two music groups that are onboard popping up all over the place.
After watching lots of Smallville and reading about half of my book, it was time for dinner and another culture clash but this time brought to you by Mum and her waiter friend. We knew that this was going to be the last cruise for Mum's friend - he's been away for 8 months or so and is getting married in October so he is homeward bound when we return to Southampton. Much whispering about "do you think it's an arranged marriage?" has been going on around our table since we found out that he was leaving and everyone assumed it must be. Today, bolstered by a few glasses of wine and almost two weeks of laughs and practical jokes, Mum felt comfortable enough to ask him whether it was an arranged marriage but asked in an almost Les Dawson-esque way:
Mum: "Is it an.. " voice lowers and exaggeratedly framing the words with her mouth, "arranged.." and back to normal "marriage?"
Waiter: "Yes.."
Mum: "Is she... " slight pause "..okay?" followed by a knowing looking.
Oh God.. *facepalm* but he didn't seem to mind and said that she was and seemed perfectly happy with his match and promised to show us a picture of her the next night along with a picture of his anaconda - well, tomorrow should be interesting.
"Trolls, Elves and 13 Santas" (10/8/10)
After yesterday's failed attempt to visit Iceland I think we were glad that apart from it being overcast that there was no fog to hamper our sailing into Reykjavik. Our excursion today would take us out into the old and, unfortunately, cooled lava flows of the countryside - a lot of the outskirts of Reykjavik is taken up by unused and unfinished roads as the city was expanding quite rapidly until their banks crashed and everything stalled suddenly leaving it looking something like a modern day version of a ghost town. In some cases, where a new estate, for want of a better word, was being built only one house out of 6 or 7 was inhabited or a semi-detached house with one side finished and inhabited, the other side was only half finished. But once you get passed these stalled expansion, you follow roads that are cut through miles and miles of old lava flows - jagged rock of all shapes and sizes that could be several hundred years old but, in a strange way, doesn't really look like it's been eroded at all.
Leaving the Tarmac road behind and driving along less than perfect ones made from crushed lava rock that caused the coach to bounce around quite dramatically, we started to make our way into the very mountains that once spawned the fields of lava we had just passed. The guide pointed out the different types of mountains that can be formed when lava finds itself underneath a glacier, such as, table mountains that couldn't find a way of escaping from beneath the ice. We stopped to take photos at a large lake that was slowly refilling after an earthquake caused a small fissure to open up beneath the lake and all the water disappeared through it.
We moved on to a "hot spot" where geothermal engineers had attempted to tap but the area was so unstable that the site exploded and is now used as a tourist spot to take photos of the boiling mud pits and steam that's escaping from underground - one way of getting rid of unwanted tourists, I suppose. I have to admit that I had to seriously concentrate on not being sick when we were there.. the smell of sulphur was fine to start off with - just the occasional whiff but as you walked along the walkways and were there longer, the smell got pretty overwhelming and it really made you feel sick but I was strong and pretty much just marched round so I could get back into air-conditioned coach.
Our main stop of the trip was the Blue Lagoon - a lake constantly replenished by run off from a nearby power plant that was famed for it's healing properties. It is filled with a bacteria that's not round anywhere else has been known to clear up skin problems and so forth and some people were wandering around out there with faces covered in the mineral rich "muck" that was at the bottom of the lake. We were there for a wander around, a drink and to sample some Icelandic treats (a doughnut like cake and some flatbread with smoked lamb) rather than a swim but we were told that we had to dip a hand in the water just to see how warm it was - wasn't as hot as I like a bath but it was nice. In the shop, should you fancy it, you could buy a handbag for a cool 49,500 (£200) Icelandic Krona or a toiletry bag full of stuff made with minerals from the lagoon for 9500 Icelandic Krona (£26) .. we didn't but you could if you wanted.
Here's a but of trivia for you.. in Iceland, there have 13 Santas that live in a cave not far from the Blue Lagoon. Between the 11th and 24th December if you leave a shoe in the window and if you've been a good boy or girl then they will leave you a present (or a potato if you've been bad) while they steal food from you so they have something to eat until the following October. Not only that, on Christmas Eve their mother will come down the mountain and if you've been REALLY naughty and if her kids haven't stolen enough food for them to survive then she takes you and cooks you for them - nice huh? Apparently our guide lived in America for a year when her daughter was 13 and her daughter declared that she didn't believe in this story and it was her mother that put the presents in the shoe. Her mother denied it and said the story was true so on the 11th December, the daughter put a shoe in the window and when she got up the shoe was filled with Icelandic sweets and stuff that could only be purchased in Iceland - apparently her face was a picture. Another interesting fact is that everyone in Reykjavik is connected, through family, by six degrees of separation.. our guide said that there was an online database that if she put in the drivers christian and surname and his date of birth then she could find out how they were related and it was usually within 6 or 7 degrees (or generations) of separation which is cool.. admittedly there are only 500,000 people living on Iceland so it's not that big a stretch but it's still fairly interesting.
So as we left Iceland behind us and started our two days at sea as we headed for Ireland, we all settled down for dinner and the riddle of the anaconda. While working a cruise in South America, a crowd of the waiters clubbed together and hired a boat for a trip along the Amazon and their guide spotted an anaconda and he showed us a picture of him and two others holding the thing. Our friend seemed a bit concerned that the snake had started to wrap itself around his arm while the others simply had it draped over their backs - personally I don't have think I would have done anywhere near the thing. As promised he showed us a picture of his fiancé and she was pretty so Mum was satisfied, I think, and is at university studying law, I think he said.
“Two Days at Sea..” (11 + 12/8/10)
We have spent a lot of time looking out to sea hoping and praying to see Whales, Dolphins or a Giant Squid but so far we haven’t much lunch but little did we know that on our 11th day our luck would change. No, not a Giant Squid (unfortunately) but a Whale that seemed to be stalking us.. as Mum and I were having breakfast something caught my eye and, at first, I couldn’t work out what I was looking at. It seemed to be a cloud that was hovering just above the sea and was slowly moving away and dispersing and then it dawned on me (I wasn’t fully awake yet.. give me a break, okay?) that it was the spray from a blowhole! By the time I had pointed it out to Mum, it had almost completely disappeared but Mr Whale was happy to oblige us with another spray.. I’m sure it must have a proper name.. I’m going to have to look it up at some point.
We decided to join the Scattergories Quiz in the Horizon Lounge today - well, we got an answer sheet and if we couldn’t answer any of the questions then we’d hide the sheet and pretend we weren’t taking part. However, it turned out to be fairly easy and not what we expected at all.. we were asked a question, such as ‘what would you give as a wedding present?’ and the answers had to being with a T.. and if you got an item that no-one else had thought of then you got a point. It was fun and caused quite a few arguments that Paul and Rich, the Entertainment people in charge, had to take charge and stop but overall, it was quite good - you’ll be pleased to hear that we scored one point.
Between 3.30 and 4.30 this afternoon there was a Chocoholics Buffet in the Coral Dinner Room. This caused hundreds of previously kind-hearted and adorable old women to turn into screaming, chocolate-starved, grey-haired lady-zombies that swarmed the atrium outside Coral and no-one was safe as they pushed against the barricade protecting the door as they called for “Chocolate”.. the floor was littered with the remains of zombies that been too slow. The waiters valiantly guarded the restaurant and I noticed that one of them had been made to wear a wedding dress to be used as a decoy but I’m not sure even THAT would stop these women from storming the restaurant searching for the tables of chocolatey goodness that their undead brains craved for. The doors opened and we all flooded in.. there was a chocolate fountain, chocolate mousse, chocolate cakes (that turned out to be chocolate mousse AGAIN but the cake-cases were WHITE CHOCOLATE), proper chocolate cakes, chocolate tarts, profiteroles, chocolate doughnuts, chocolate EVERYTHING.. I think it’s safe to say that I ate too much and felt a tad sick afterwards but it was AWESOME. We then had a quick look round the galley which was interesting.. on average there are 33 people doing the washing up (well, putting it into the huge bank of industrial dish-washers), they prepare 4000 meals a day and are charged for any breakages (unless they can prove it was an accident, I guess).. £2.49 for a dinner plate!
The waiter that appears to have taken a shine to Mum, Naseeb Khan, promised that he would bring his phone so we could see a picture of his fiancé and his anaconda and that is what he did. I was at the other of the table so couldn’t see what he was showing mum but I could hear the conversation quite clearly:
Khan [Handing over phone]: So there’s my anaconda..
Mum [Looking a bit scared]: It’s big isn’t it?
Khan: Yes, it took three of us to hold it and it’s wrapped around my arm..
Mum: Oh yes.
Well.. what was I supposed to think? Obviously I discovered later that it was ACTUALLY an anaconda from a trip he went on but how was I supposed to know? Just as a bit of an update: His fiancé is “okay”.
We have been to the after-dinner show almost every night.. put on by the “Headliner’s Theatre Company”. My favourite, I think, has been the “You’ve Got To Have Friends” one they did on our second day sailing towards Ireland.. they let the dancers have the evening off and it was just the four singers, Terry, Paul, Anna and Kelly, and the musical director, Dean, on the piano.. they told us a little about themselves, when they got the showbiz bug, who their influences were etc. It was very funny and gave them a chance to stretch their legs a little bit and show you what they could really do without having dancers spinning around them and they definitely got the most energetic applause that night.
“The Giant’s Causeway” (13/8/10)
We are visiting The Giant’s Causeway today which is exciting.. it’s pretty obvious that Ireland would win in a game of Mythological Creatures Top Trumps - Trolls and Elves against Giants? Go Ireland. Due to either the size of the port or the lack of a port, there was some serious border crossing confusion this morning.. the Artemis was too big to enter the port at Greencastle (R.O.I) and the Northern Ireland side didn’t have anywhere close enough for a tender to dock. So they anchored her on the Northern Ireland side of Lough Foyle, and then we were tendered to Greencastle, got on a coach that boarded a ferry that took us back over to the Northern Ireland side again - you didn’t know whether you were coming or going.
It took about an hour or so to get to the Causeway and we decided that we could do with some exercise and walk down rather than taking the shuttle bus down. Don’t believe the nonsense that the Causeway was formed from some kind of volcanic incident that occurred thousands of years ago.. that’s just ridiculous. Finn, the giant that lived in those parts was being mocked by a Scottish giant, who’s name escapes me at the moment, after giving it the ‘come and have a go if you think you are hard enough’ routine, Finn couldn’t stand for it anymore and built the causeway so he could walk over and finally shut that big mouth scot up. After defeating the Scot and making him cry - Finn returned back along his causeway and made sure he couldn’t be followed - what we see today is all that remains of his causeway.. which is more believable? Volcanos or Giants? Yes, that’s right.. Giants. It’s a beautiful place to visit and I think I’d like to go again in the winter when there is a massive storm battering the coast of Ireland.. to see the waves crashing over the causeway and the wind howling through the valley - bet it’s even more impressive then.. you never know, we might even see Finn as he taunts his Scottish counterpart.
I had a run in with a stupid woman who wasn’t looking where she was going when we were back up by the tea-room. I was opening the door to walk out and had turned round to make sure there wasn’t anyone behind me before I let it go and this woman walked out of the gift-shop, wasn’t looking where she was going and walked into the door. She looked at me as if I had deliberately opened the door so she’d walk into and said, “well, *thank* you” or something.. the usual English response would be to apologise, I suppose, but seeing as we weren’t in England (as such). She tried to make out she was looking where she was going but after I calmly pointed out that I saw her come out of the gift-shop and she wasn’t looking where she was going and that it WASN’T my fault, she back down and apologised to me... “that’s okay.. just be careful, you might hurt yourself next time” and then I back-handed her across the face, just out of spite.
I think I may have discovered a simple way of solving the problem of groups of kids standing on our street corners, meeting on buses and anywhere else they congregate while playing loud and offensive music. We need to swap them for their irish counterparts.. there was a crowd of the little sods standing outside the tea room when we were waiting to get back on the coach.. they were dressed the same as our “youths”, they were laughing, joking and being a bit loud but nothing too serious and one of them had his mobile in his hand and using the loud speaker to blast out music. How is this any different? Well.. the music he was playing was irish folk music - no swearing, no ‘boom-boom-boom-boom-boom’ of an over-active base or unintelligible lyrics.. just good old fashioned tunes that made you think of mountains, lush green fields and little ginger fellas with green suits with an obsession with gold. They left shortly after we spotted them and they strutted past, looking at you and weighing up the chances of a successful happy slapping attack - just like ours - but with the jaunty melody of Molly Malone and my hysterical laughter following in their wake.
We had to wait almost an hour to get onto the ferry to get us back to Greencastle.. waiting with us was a LARGE wedding party - Rolls Royce and all. I can’t understand why women are so fascinated with weddings.. they were picking the outfits a part on some people and becoming almost obsessed with others... “Oh I like that.. isn’t it different? But then she has the figure for it doesn’t she? Cow.” and the amount of photos they were taking! I wouldn’t be surprised if 75% of the photos that were taken that day were of the wedding party - someone they’ve never met or are ever likely to when you think about it. Luckily for some of those that don’t go all gooey over a wedding - there was a pub right next to where we were waiting so quite a few people were able to slip off the coach and have a sneaky Guinness while we were waiting. The Wedding-fest continued as we were ferried across to Greencastle - once there about 150 of us queued diligently waiting to border the three tenders the Artemis had sent over while we were watched by a seal that was swimming around the harbour.. although we all hoped to spot a Whale, I think everyone was happy that we had finally seen some form of sea-going animal close up and he was getting a lot of attention. As we were boarding, another two joined him or her to watch us sail away from Greencastle and head back to the Artemis.
I think I should mention how brave Mother was at this point.. although the weather was better on the return to the ship than when we left, the water was a lot choppier than it had been. Being in a little tender in choppy water isn’t a happy experience for those that aren’t all that keen on boats but she did very well and I think she only scream once the entire time and the pressure marks on my arm faded after a few hours.
“In Dublin’s Fair City....” (14/8/10)
Although the Artemis didn’t actually leave Dublin until midnight the next morning, our own personal visit to Dublin didn’t last very long. Well, we’ve been before and after Dad and Paul had a pint of actual Dublin Guinness there wasn’t much else to do but in the spirit of being on holiday and taking the opportunity to visit somewhere we hadn’t been before, we went looking for the castle. On the map that we were given as left the coach there was clearly marked “CASTLE” not far from the Arlington Hotel - where Paul and I stayed when we went there for the weekend - so off we wandered looking for it - took us across the Liffey, through Temple Bar - lots of pubs and restaurants there - and back out towards Grafton Street again with no sign of a castle whatsoever. It didn’t take us long before we realised that it meant “this is where the castle WAS” as opposed to where it is but at least we got to have a look through a second-hand book fair on the way.
We didn’t get up to much for the rest of the day - after a couple of games of Scrabble (Paul cheated - how else could he have beaten me?!), we retired with crisps and chocolate to read, watch some TV and general laze about. Dinner that evening was a little strange - although this wasn’t our last night together everyone was acting like it was - promises of seeing each other again and keeping in contact while hunting around looking for bits of paper and pens to write telephone numbers and addresses down on - makes you wonder what tomorrow is going to be like if they’re like this on the penultimate evening.
We went to the Starlights Lounge for a change tonight and they were playing the Syndicate Quiz. Throughout the two weeks away various groups had formed that were regulars playing this game and they took this game SERIOUSLY... we didn’t bother to form a new group for one night so we just played it amongst ourselves but the group next to us were terrified that we were going to eaves drop on their answers and steal them - they kept looking over their shoulders at us and Mum could hear them whispering and asking whether we were actually playing properly and if we were listening to them. If we had been playing properly I don’t think we had to worry about them that much - after the question “what gas makes up 74% of the sun’s mass?” was asked Dad burst into laughter, after confused glances between mum and I, he came over and told me that the lady behind him who was terrified that we were listening in had given the answer: “It’s neon isn’t it? Because you can see it in the dark”.. Riiiight.
“A final lap...” (15/8/10)
I’m glad that our last day onboard is at sea because it’ll probably take us that long to tidy our cabins and pack everything up. We learnt early on that 2010-2011 was the Artemis’ farewell season and at first we thought she was being decommissioned after 26 years in the biz but towards the end of the second week we found out that she’s actually been sold off for £30 million to a German holiday company that will continue to use her for cruises around Norway and Iceland etc. The wife of the officer in charge of the hotel side of things told us that they have bought everything that doesn’t have a P&O logo on as well as the plaques and presents she’s been given over the years so they can keep the history of this little ship intact. She also said that when they sail her into wherever it is they want her to go to exchange the keys - every cabin, room, kitchen and bar will be made up and ready to receive new guests.. even though it’s rumoured that she’ll go for a refit to have addition balconies fitted.. she said that the same thing happened when the Canberra was being decommissioned - the rooms were perfect and waiting for someone to move in as they ran her into the beach where they would rip her apart. Weird but interesting, isn’t it?
So the Artemis from next April will cease to be and once the refit is complete she will be the Artamia (it’s cheaper just to replace a few of the letters than giving her a brand new name) so if you see her at some point.. give her a wave from us, okay?
