Post Script

Compared to Toxteth or Brixton it wasn’t much of a riot but for a bunch of pensioners it was quite impressive.

We spent Friday Morning on a coach tour. It was cold and rainy which in Montreal passes for a nice day. The Mawls (Canadian for shopping centres) are underground to avoid the winter snow and the summer humidity. They are all linked together and connected to the underground railway system. Montreal has a lousy climate, but it’s a good place to be in a Nuclear Holocaust.

In the afternoon, coaches took all the passengers who couldn’t afford the whole 40 day cruise or as we put it ‘had other commitments’ to the airport. International aviation regulations require that airport departures (and security) facilities are only half as big as necessary to allow space for duty free shops. The coaches parked next to a wall and a narrow strip of pavement that was wide enough for the luggage or the passengers but not both at the same time. After some good natured violence we retrieved our cases and joined one of the three queues that had formed in front of the three Fred Olsen check-in desks.

When the queues were nice and long, two check-in girls arrived and informed us that we weren’t allowed to queue in such a scruffy Anglo Saxon way. They insisted on erecting one of those chrome post and tape mazes that would allow us to queue in a stylish French way. We all shuffled backwards into a heaving muttering mass and watched the maze zigzag towards us. Everyone had the same unspoken thought – “where will the new entrance be?”

For those without hearing impairment the click of the last tape in the last post acted like a starting gun. The two check in girls fled for the safety of their desks. The stampede for the new entrance was started by the ones who had been first in the original queues and now faced the unacceptable prospect of being last. Armoured columns pushing luggage trolleys fought with light infantry pulling wheeled suitcases. Walking sticks were wielded by disabled passengers who would have preferred their own parastampede.

When the dust and talcum powder finally settled we found ourselves towards the front of the queue with only minor bruising. Thanks Fred for a memorable end to a memorable holiday.

Dave x

Quebec, Thursday 8th October

I woke before seven, and went out onto the balcony to watch the sun rise. Yes, it's stopped raining at last!

Quebec is a beautiful place. We spent the morning walking round the cobbled streets of the old town, with me wishing that I had some girlfriends with me to enjoy the delightful craft shops. Dave did his best, but he's not the world's best shopper.

We had to get back to the ship at lunchtime as we were booked on a guided walking tour in the afternoon, which took us to most of the places we'd seen in the morning - but it was worth doing as we were told a lot about the history of the place. The tour ended with afternoon tea at Chateau Frontenac, a massive copper roofed old railway hotel (600 bedrooms, French chateau style) which stands on top of the cliffs dominating the town. Just what we needed of course, two cream cakes each, plus a slice of almond cake and two chocolates!

Tomorrow morning we'll be in Montreal where we have a tour of the city in the morning and then will be driven to the airport for the journey home. So this is it - see you all soon!

Janet xx

Wednesday 7th October (I think)

Just a quick one. We've been sailing down the St Lawrence Seaway and Sagenay(sp?) River today, doing not much more than admire the scenery and watch for whales. And yes, we've seen plenty. Honest, cross my heart and hope to die!

The weather hasn't been at all kind to us, in fact about an hour ago there were ice crystals in amongst the rain drops. We had a surreal minute or two up on the top deck, muffled up in full wet weather gear, clutching mugs of mulled wine as the ship passed a statue of the Virgin Mary high on the rocky cliffs, to the sound of 'Ave Maria' blasting from the ship's tannoy! One of those 'We won't forget this' moments!

Anyway, despite the lack of sunshine, we've had a fab time and will be sad to leave the ship on Friday. (And yes Julie, I have been to enquire about staying on, but no balcony cabins are available, so we've decided to come home.)

So... see you all soon,
Love
Janet
xx

Welcome to Canada

There was a band waiting for us on the quayside when we arrived at Corner Brook, Newfoundland. At first I thought it was a marching band but they were just stamping their feet to keep warm.

Corner Brook is a one moose town. It is the sort of place that Canadians spend their formative years trying to get out of. Maybe when the sun sets over the steaming paper mill it has a kind of beauty but we saw it on a rainy morning. Still, we found a nice wetland park. It was quite isolated so I didn't tell Janet about the notice that advertised the "frequent police patrols" until later.

Gaspe was bigger and had its own Macdonalds. It also had a very nicely designed Cathedral built entirely of wood. Gaspe sits at the end of a bay surrounded by low wooded hills and the leaves have just turned a beautiful gold and red. We had plenty of time to appreciate the view because the Entertainments Officer got the ship's time wrong and everyone got up an hour early. Some of the passengers presented him with a travel clock after the evening show.


A Nobel Prize?

Unfortunately Gaspe had to be reached by tender. Ever since the time I boarded my first tender I have been trying to think of a way to prevent these occasions becoming the total cock-ups they usually are.

I've finaly done it and I am going to write a paper and circulate it to all the cruise lines. It's a revolutionary mathematical model that could change things for ever. I've simplified it by cutting out some minor variables and I am sure that, given enough time, most Entertainments Officers could be trained to use it.

((Number of passengers) / ((tender capacity) x (tender numbers))) x (round trip time) / 2 = Curran's Constant

If Curran's Constant >1 then a significant number of passengers will get pissed off.

Dave x

The Balmoral Gigolos

I discovered the Fred Olsen Gigolos on last year's Braemar cruise and blogged about them at the time. These elderly gentlemen are employed by Fred to dance with unattached ladies of a certain age and beyond. (Way beyond). I don't know what their exact terms of reference are but it's fun to speculate.

On Balmoral, the theatre is also used for dancing and the stage sinks down into the floor over the crew's quarters (the Thai waiters are not very tall). We arrived early to watch the show and dancing was still in progress. "Name the Gigolos" seemed to be a good way to pass the time.
There were four of them dressed smartly in white flannels and wearing name badges just in case they forgot. After some discussion we named them Perry, Lurch, Colin and Ike.

"Perry" (Combover) was the easiest to christen. In a job where appearance matters, a wig would have helped, although better fitting teeth should have been a higher priority.

"Lurch" was tall, gaunt, and dragged one foot. The limp was a bit of a problem when he had to lead but, amazingly, he had a small group of followers - he probably reminded them of the last time they saw their late husbands. If he has to comfort any of them I hope he gives priority to qualified first aiders.

We struggled with "Colin" and we are still not happy with it but we couldn't think of a better name for a psychopath. He was the youngest of the four and his partners probably reminded him of his dead mother who he almost certainly keeps in a chest freezer back home. He was short, had two left feet (amongst his large collection of body parts) and his head darted from side to side like a lizard. His haunted look suggested he might have forgotten to switch the freezer on.

"Ike" was short for "I can't believe my luck at being employed alongside this bunch of losers". He was not particularly good looking and was not a particularly good dancer but, as Fred Olsen had set the bar spectacularly low in these areas, he was the cat anticipating shed loads of cream. He was methodically working his way through the field - determined not to be seduced by the first glimpse of an arthritic ankle. He looked, like a child at Christmas, unsure of which present to open first.

So now you know their names you can join us in a toast. Four men who are on five week mission to boldly go where no man has been for some time. Raise your glasses to - "The Balmoral Gigolos".

Dave x

Saturday 3rd and Sunday 4th October

I've been a bit quiet for a few days as I've not been able to think of much to report - all these days at sea are much the same. I've continued the daily watercolour classes, though I'm sorry to report that my skill in that department hasn't improved, and I'm also continuing to enjoy the Nintendo Wii. The nice young man who organises those sessions, DJ Mike, had intended for the group to progress through a variety of games, but having seen how inept most of us were on the virtual golf course has now reverted to the simpler Wii Ten Pin Bowling, which we play in teams of two, taking turns to 'bowl'. Names are drawn from a hat to decide who partners who, and today I struck gold and was put with Margaret, who has a Wii at home and gets a strike with every ball she bowls! So I came away victorious from this morning's session, clutching one Balmoral Prize Point (laminated)! Sadly, my voice-activated camera wasn't around to record the event - he was enjoying what will probably be his final dip in the jacuzzi. The sy's been blue today (Saturday) but there's a very cold wind, and we're told to expect rain and low temperatures once we get to Canada.

Sunday morning. Captain Me Again woke us at 8:40 with a tannoy announcement that whales were on both sides of the ship. I jumped out of bed and grabbed my fleece, and stood on the balcony for several minutes but saw nothing. :-(

Dave reckons he saw one yesterday, while I was out socialising. Mmmm, little boy wolf?

Much love to you all,
Janet
xx

p.s. I typed all this out earlier today and then failed to get an internet connection, so have done it again with my fingers crossed. The Captain has just revised his weather forecast for Corner Brook, our port of call tomorrow - he's now saying Heavy Rain and Maximum temp of 5 degrees!

Whale Watching

2nd October 2009

Regular readers of this blog will know that I spend a lot of time lying on the balcony with my nose pressed to the glass looking for whales or dolphins. The whales or dolphins are optional and I'm really just watching the sea.

I think it is possible that feelings, like brown eyes and HIV, can be passed between generations and that liking the sea is part of a race memory. We are now in the North Atlantic where the sea is colder and greyer. Here, before I was born, my father was a naval gunner on merchant convoys during the war. He was torpedoed and sunk three times. That sort of "Oh shit not again" experience can probably leave a dent in your genes.

For the next couple of days I'll be watching for the whales the Captain has promised. If, inadvertently, I start searching for periscopes, I will let you know.

Dave

p.s. I managed to get a picture of the ship that has been following us. I think it's one of those tall ships that do Duke of Edinburgh type sailing courses for young people. It's getting closer so I should soon be able to get a better view.