Fifteen months have passed since I departed on THAT voyage, on THAT ship and in THAT very cabin which had the huge balcony. The Grand Voyage on mv Arcadia lasted 101 nights - shades of the 1001 Arabian Nights with a story for each and every day. If only I had discovered Blogger back then!
I write this just a few days before flying out of Gatwick to Barbados to join the smallest of the P & O's fleet - mv Artemis - on her Spring re-positioning cruise. There will be a few days island hopping in the Caribbean and then lots of long days at sea as she heads back across the Atlantic to Southampton. In fact we are going to be limping back on three engines as the fourth broke down last week and despite the best efforts of engineers they are not able to fix it until she returns to the UK. It means that we will be missing our stop at St. Barts but on a positive note it means that we will have an additional day at sea.
It was those long sea days that I remember most fondly from last year. A very brisk 12 laps (four miles) of the Prom Deck after breakfast set me up for the day. The Bay of Biscay was kind to me on the outward voyage but a freezing cold wind whipped around my head. I buried my ears beneath a huge white furry hat, gulped in the clean, fresh ocean air and set off at a decent pace. Certainly a bracing start to any day. The sea turned quite nasty in the Mediterranean where we hit a Force 10 gale. The Prom Deck was roped off so I sat in one of the lounges at sea level (busily chewing homeopathic anti-seasick pills) and watched the huge waves as they rolled towards us and battered the side of the ship. I was far too excited to be ill.
As we cruised through the Red Sea & Gulf of Aden our security officers became very visible on deck peering out through binoculars to spot any potential piratical attacks. I saw all sorts out on deck at 8.15am. There were the very elderly who had difficulty in putting one foot in front of the other; there were the dawdlers who wandered around in pairs chatting to each other, taking up the whole width of The Prom and totally oblivious to the fact that other people wanted to pass; there were the tryers (like myself) who made a real effort; there were the posers who donned lycra shorts and raced around for a couple of laps continually looking at their reflection in the glass windows wondering if their busts looked OK and whether their bums looked too big (!!); and finally there were the professionals or experts who were well versed in the art of exercise. Who have I missed - oh yes, there were those who did not walk at all but who thought that by coming out on deck and reclining in a chair was enough to work off that breakfast of 2 sausages, 2 pieces of black pudding, 2 eggs, tomatoes, mushrooms, baked beans and toast!!
Watching all of us were the crew. Cleaners who religiously washed down all the painted and varnished surfaces every single day. Security Guards from the Philippines who's faces broke out in huge smiles. Occasionally it was possible to spot an officer in his white uniform striding off purposefully or an engineer in his blue overalls disappearing through secret doors into the bowels of the ship. And then there were the famous faces. From The Bay to Mumbai a permanent sight on The Prom early in the morning was Martin Bell in his signature white suit. All said good morning and all were so friendly.
When we reached the Indian Ocean the air turned very hot & sticky and the big melt down started. We would not feel cool again until we reached the Great Australian Blight in February.
I was forever hopeful of spotting a dolphin or even a whale but I only ever heard other people telling me THEY had seen them. I always seemed to be on the wrong side of the ship or stuck inside when I should have been outside. One particular morning, as we entered the Tasman Sea, I looked over the balcony rail and gazed at the gently rolling ever changing seascape. Every now and then gentle waves broke into small white crests. My eyes strayed to what appeared to be a group of these white crests and suddenly I realised that they were actually fins whizzing through the air and then diving into the sea. It was the dolphins!!!!!!! I watched them for several minutes as they played in a group (or should that be a pod?) to the side of the wash. All too soon they disappeared into the distance - but at last I had seen them.
We headed north again leaving Australia behind us. As we crossed the Solomon Sea and headed for the Equator the winds increased and the rain came down in sheets. The Prom was not cordoned off but trying to do my normal laps proved too much. On one side of the ship the winds buffeted me so hard that I had to hang on to the hand rail to prevent myself from being blown off my feet. On the otherside of the ship it was a matter of trying to dodge the torrents of water which dripped from the lifeboats and flooded the deck.
In early March we reached the Yellow Sea & were heading for China. The temperature had dropped to 4 degrees and the waters were choppy. As I exercised on The Prom I noticed many small boats in the distance and all were displaying red flags. They seemed to be saying "Keep Away - Keep Away". I suppose they must have been marking North Korean waters.
I didn't think anything could compare with setting foot in the Celestial Empire but the Gulf of Tongking in Vietnam did not disappoint. Local legend has it that the gods sent down a family of dragons to protect Hai Phong from invaders. While the dragons' watched over the land, their mighty tails carved the rocky seabed and Halong Bay was created. It is now known as the Home of the Descending Dragon and it is the little islands that form the humps of the tail. This was very beautiful but even that paled in comparison to the sight that greeted me as we glided into Langkawi a week later. I was on the balcony very, very early in the morning just as dawn was breaking and the most magical sight was unfolding before my eyes as the sun slowly rose over the horizon. It is almost impossible to describe the beautiful colours of blues, pinks & purples which swirled around the sky creating a mystical backdrop to tiny little islands dotted in the sea. If Halong Bay was the Home of the Descending Dragon then this surely had to be the Boudoir of his Phoenix. The photo at the head of this blog captured just one second of this particular magical morning.
I find it difficult to imagine that anything in the Caribbean or on the Artemis could match these experiences - but only time will tell.
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