An Exciting Ending

Our cruise changed from the sublime to the ridiculous in the last 48 hours.   On Sunday night we went to the Crew Show.  As usual it was superb and far better than the professional entertainment.  Acts included traditional Thai dancing, truly excellent singers and eight self conscious guys in from the engine room who did “Sex Bomb” in only their overalls. I clapped till my hands ached.  The only thing I would have enjoyed more would have been watching the professional “comedian” (his description, not mine) clean a cabin.

The banging and grinding started at 8 o’clock on Monday morning. There had been some noise on Sunday but we spent most of the day out of the cabin and it didn’t bother us.  However, as an official outbreak of Norovirus was declared at 9a.m. on Monday, we decided to stay in and watch DVD’s. Throwing up on a coach to Liverpool didn’t sound like an ideal end to the holiday.  Before we settled down I went up on deck to photograph the work that had started on building a gymnasium above our cabin - one of the alterations that will be carried out whilst Boudicca is in dry dock next week.  We stuck it through three episodes of Dinner Ladies and most of Chicago before I cracked and stomped off to complain.

“Oh dear”, said the nice young girl on reception, “I’ll phone Engineering” followed by “Engineering say it’s only maintenance”.   I managed to count to five “I’m an Architect – I know the difference between maintenance and a building site which is what you’ve now got on Deck 10”.  Flustered she retreated to the back office. I heard a whispered conversation which was probably “You deal with it, I’m not going out there” in Indonesian.  The original girl re-appeared “Sorry Sir. I’ll phone the Carpenters”.  I did another five count before saying “There’ll be no one in, they’re all jumping up and down on my bloody roof”   We both agreed that the situation was unacceptable but that I would have to go to the Customer Relations Office when it opened at 3.30pm.  “I’ve come to complain about the noise” said the next lady in the queue.

Someone wisely decided to open up another front further down the deck and the noise stopped soon after I got back to the cabin.  At 3.30 there was a long queue outside Customer Relations. Fortunately, the lady who was behind me at Reception was now at the front and we decided on a joint approach.  Behind us the queue of mainly inside cabin people seethed with petty grievances.  The poor lady in the office looked like she was looking forward to committing suicide at the end of her shift.  We were so nice I think we really scared her and she logged our complaint in puzzled silence.

Someone at head office is obviously paranoid about completing the dry dock works on time which is, of course, why we returned to Southampton instead of Liverpool as originally planned.  On Tuesday breakfast was at 6.00am (no chance) and we were off the ship and on a coach to Liverpool for 7.30am.   Maybe there had been a flu epidemic at head office and the man who procures balcony furniture had been drafted in to organise the coaches. The destination of the coach was “The Liverpool Docks Car Park” which was fine if you’d come by car but a touch vague if you were being met by a taxi.  “We’ll be going to the Cruise Terminal” said the coach driver, who was looking forward to his first trip to Liverpool Docks, “I expect someone from Fred Olsen will be there and you will be bussed to the car park – should arrive about 1.00pm” . As Janet phoned the taxi firm to confirm we would be at the terminal for 1.15pm I knew without any shadow of doubt that this was going to end in tears.

We entered the dock gates at about ten past one.  The “Cruise Terminal”, which is actually a shed that most allotment societies would be proud of, is hidden somewhere in the middle of miles of derelict buildings and rusting machinery.  The whole thing looks like the set of a “after the nuclear holocaust” film. “It’s not like Southampton is it?” said the coach driver who had by this time discovered that there would be no one there to help him.  One of the passengers knew where he had parked his car so the driver followed his directions. “We’ll just drop off at the car park and then find the Terminal” said the increasingly less confident driver.  It took a while to offload all the luggage, find the car owners’ bags and reload the rest and we were getting worried about our taxis. Eventually we were back on the coach and ready to go when one of the car owners jumped back on.  “Don’t go” he yelled frantically “My wife’s still in the toilet”.

 If it hadn’t been for the lady in the toilet or the two more stops to ask for directions we might have got to the swing bridge in time.  As it was we sat on the coach for a further 20 minutes whilst a tramp steamer sailed out of one of the docks.  By this time everyone on the coach was frantic about their taxis which may or may not have been waiting patiently in front of a deserted shed.  Finally the bridge locked back into place and the barriers were raised.  As we crossed we passed a stream of taxis, who had obviously heard a rumour that there was a coach at a car park, going in the opposite direction.

Fortunately our man from Whiteside’s was the one who had brought us to the “Cruise Terminal” two weeks ago and he had decided to stay put.  We grabbed our bags, threw them in his boot and off we went leaving the chaos behind us.  We were about halfway home before I realised that, in the confusion, I had forgotten one of our bags.  By that time it could have been anywhere but ten minutes later my phone rang.  It was the Dock Police to let me know that a black bag with our cabin number was now in their lost property.  Oh well, does anyone fancy a trip to Liverpool Docks?

Dave

x

New Year's Eve

New Year's Eve at Madeira lived up to expectations.  We arrived early in the morning but six cruise ships into four berths won't go and so the Boudicca had to anchor and use the ship's tenders until it was our turn for a berth at 2:30pm.  Everyone who cruises knows that tendering usually ends up with some sort of cock-up.  This time it was the swell that turned stepping into the tender into an extreme sport for the over 70's.  Under these conditions the only way to fill a tender quickly is to operate a 'two refusals and you go to the back of the queue' system.  Faced with long queues we decided to stay on the balcony in the sunshine and wait until the ship docked.

Unfortunately the Saga Pearl II, who had the berth before us, was late leaving.  They probably have to check that all their passengers still have a pulse before sailing.  It was 4 o'clock before the shuttle bus dropped us off in the centre of Funchal and so we didn't have much time ashore.  Janet took some more photographs of the dodgy Santa balloon vendors who are the Madeira equivalent of the Big Issue sellers and we also saw a procession.  Last time we were in Funchal we watched a procession of old men in traditional costume carrying a Virgin through the town.  I assume that, by this time in the season, they must have run out and so the old men were all carrying hams.  God knows why, I suspect that the significance of these processions is lost in the cabinet in the Department of Tourism.

Having worked out that cruise ships normally back into Funchal harbour we'd chosen a cabin on the port side so we could watch the fireworks from our balcony.  We'd guessed right and were facing the island but the captain had decided that the Boudicca would sail at 10:30 and anchor a mile or so off shore to give everybody a better view.  Cruise Director Stein, with his unlimited supply of free wine, joined us for the formal dinner and afterwards we sat on our balcony to sober up.  We'd put the Christmas tree on the balcony table and wrapped LED lights round the rails.  The view of the harbour with all the lights of the town on the hills behind was breathtaking.  Our balcony wasn't bad either so we switched our lights off before sailing to avoid endangering other shipping.

Anchored offshore the starboard side was facing the island and we were looking for a good spot on deck to watch the display.  The usual contingent of passengers, determined to get the best view, had dragged their chairs into a wall and were sitting smugly in front of the ship's rail.  The captain had originally announced that he would try to point the rear of the ship towards the town so we took a chance and bagged a space at the back, which was then looking out to sea.  Five minutes before midnight the captain spun the ship round on the anchor chain and switched off all the lights.  The countdown to 2011 was punctuated by the satisfying sound of a number of smug people falling over their chairs.

I took some photographs of the display, but, even now that I've found the firework mode on the camera, they don't do it justice.  Out at sea you can see the whole of the island lit up with fireworks. In ten minutes 1% of the island's annual tax income goes up in smoke.  That's nothing compared to Gordon Brown's achievements, but it's still impressive and it's much more enjoyable to watch.  As soon as the fireworks had reached their deafening climax the captain slipped it into first and we were off.  There's no way he's going to be late back for the refit.  As the band belted out I'm on My Way to The YMCA at Una Paloma Blanca or something similar, we rocked our way towards the horizon.  The other cruise ships with all their lights blazing began to look like models on a lake, and a huge cloud of smoke hung over the island.  Magic, Happy New Year!

xx
Dave

New Year's Day

Happy New Year!

We hope you all had a great evening.  The fireworks in Madeira were indescribably amazing, so I won't even try!

We watched from one of the high decks at the stern, along with most of the passengers and many crew members.  All mingling together, streamers, party hats, neon light sticks, 'tooters' and free fizz in abundance.  A really happy atmosphere.  The band played on deck until about 1am, when the party moved indoors - and we sneaked off to bed!

xx
Janet

Friday, 31st December 2010, New Year's Eve in Madeira

This photo was taken the last time we were in Madeira for a festive cruise, but I'm sure things won't have changed much in the last two years:-

We both took sleeping pills last night as the ship was rocking and rolling a bit, so woke after 9am this morning to find ourselves at anchor in the bay of Madeira.  We're due to tie up for a few hours this afternoon, but will be leaving mid-evening to watch the fireworks from out in the bay.  So all the pre-cruise agonising about which cabin to choose for the best view was in vain - along with everyone else onboard, we take pot-luck!  Still, the sun is shining and it's hot, hot, hot...

Janet

XX

Thursday, 30th December 2010, Santa Cruz de la Palma

8a.m. arrival in port, with sun rising behind Mount Teide on Tenerife in the distance.  I watched from the balcony as Black Watch also appeared on the horizon and sailed across the sunrise.  Balmoral is also in port today, so lots of Brits in town.

We were here in Sata Cruz last October and that time turned left out of the port gates to visit the black sandy beach.  This time we decided to turn right.

The main street was very crowded so we soon made a detour uphill and came across areas we'd not seen before.  We came across a tiny old convent building, just two rooms, one of which was a chapel.  A local man, possibly the caretaker or warden, greeted us and proudly told us all about the exhibits.  One was a holy relic in a glass case - allegedly a fragment of the cross.  A splinter.  Anyway, it was good to have our own private guided tour and I hope we made the right noises in the right places, even though we didn't necessarily appreciate the religious significance of many of the items.

Sailed away at 2pm on our way to Madeira, which will be our final port of call.

xx
Janet

Wednesday, 29th December 2010, Santa Cruz Tenerife

We've been here a few times before, and never much cared for the place, so left the ship this morning intending to merely have a walk in the sunshine.  We started off in the town centre, together with lots of other tourists from the 3 ships which are here today - Boudicca, Balmoral and P&O's Artemis.  Wandering off the beaten track we found lots of things to interest us - a pedestrianised old street now mainly housing bars and cafes, a 16th century church with an amazing interior, and the highlight of our long walk was the modern theatre beside the sea, built in concrete in a Sydney Opera House sort of style.

Tropical Night and the usual mixture of Hawaiian shirts, bright coloured dresses and floral leis prevailed, but two women had taken the dress code very seriously and wore grass skirts over their swimming costumes!  The tropical themed show was followed by a late night deck party as we sailed away from Tenerife.  A barbecue was available, but no, we didn't eat a thing.  You may not believe this, but... I AM FULL.

xxJanet

Our Cabin

We've got a lovely cabin on Deck 9 next to the really posh people.  It's quite big with a couch and two armchairs in the sitting area.  It has an enormous bed with space underneath for a whole family of illegal immigrants.  The bed is surrounded by large mirrors, which, like the bathroom windows on the Braemar, indicates continuing confusion at Fred Olsen about the habits of their over-60s market sector.  As usual the furniture on the balcony is barking.  I'm now convinced that Fred Olsen's balcony furniture procurement must be done by one person who's as mad as a bag of ferrets.  This time, we have two small chairs and a tiny table on quite a large balcony.  The chairs are based on the design of an Olde English ducking stool in which comfort, as a design parameter, came a long way behind the ability to withstand a good soaking. 

My only other complaint is about the energy saving lighting.  A few years ago I suspect that at a Philips Lighting board meeting the M.D. said "We've spent millions on developing compact fluorescent fittings and they're still crap.  Start manufacture,  stress the energy saving aspects and we'll try to persuade the EEC to make them compulsory."  Compact fluorescents are the ony source of lighting in our bathroom.  You can't see a thing when you go in and then the fittings slowly brighten to reveal if it's a hit or a miss.

We've also had a spot of bother with the toilet.  The first time I used it my sixth sense for building defects told me that the flushing mechanism wasn't sucking like it should.  Normally the suction in ships' vacuum systems is viscious and, to stop you losing any bits you are fond of, the flush button is hidden behind the toilet lid.  Occasionally very large ladies are unlucky enough to bend the lid backwards and cause an accidental flush.  You will know this has happened when you hear the medical emergency 'Alpha Code' over the public address system and see the ship's doctor running down the corridor with a tyre lever and a can of WD40.

Anyway, our's stopped sucking, a man came, it worked then it stopped working again, and so on.  Playing Russian Roulette with a toilet is not as dangerous as using a revolver, but it can take the edge off a romantic evening.  Eventually, I went to Reception to explain to the nice young girl that we were both going to have a more enjoyable cruise when our toilet was fixed.  That's how the Malaysian maintenance man came to be in our cabin at 11:30pm when he should have been watching football in the crew's quarters.  He told me that he could not fit a new flucking varve at this time of night.  Because of my technical knowledge I realised that he was probably referring to the 'flushing valves' that are used on drainage intallations that don't have local water cisterns.  He opted for a quick fix which involved sticking what appeared to be the pool vacuum cleaner down the toilet and sucking for five minutes.  It all turned out OK because the next morning the varve was changed and I hadn't wanted to go swimming anyway.

Dave
xx