1. Set Fair

 Oh wow, this is different, we’re cruising! We’ve ditched the usual road trip and swapped the A26 through France for the Atlantic Ocean and a meander down to Madeira, the Canary Islands, Lisbon and Cadiz. ‘Aboat time we cruised’ I said, ‘let’s sealebrate our Golden Wedding anniverseary by getting ship-faced’. D said ‘I’m not doing that bloody drive through France again, anyway. And talk normally’.

Arrived in Southampton, abandoned the car in the queue to be parked - with D still muttering resentfully that it cost nearly 300 quid to do so - then staggered over to the mayhem that is ‘baggage drop’. Directed into departures after that, where the full noisy horror of the logistics of getting 3,000 people on to a ship became apparent. The crowds, the noise, the constant stamping of the boarding passes, passport swiping, security checks, keep moving, please. D said ‘ridiculous’ at least 10 times.

Got lost down a maze of corridors once we’d clambered up Ventura’s gangplank - which was disappointingly an ordinary escalator - but was directed by a crew member, who kindly pointed out that cabin D404 wouldn’t be on the odd side. D said it was still ridiculous that 101-421 doesn’t include 404.

Another slight disappointment when we got into our deluxe balcony cabin; we’ve watched too much Jane McDonald, where she swans into a Princess Suite that is huge and full of flowers and fruit, neon lights and big mirrors. Although Ventura was only set afloat- or whatever they do to new ships - in 2008, the cabins are decidedly 1970 ish. Browns and creams and teak trimmings with orange swirly cushion covers. Disappointment somewhat allayed when we opened the fridge and found a bottle of champagne and a box of chocolates! D wouldn’t touch either though, as he said it was probably a devious upselling trick, until our friendly steward arrived and told him it was free. Free champagne, OMG, this is the life!

Our steward is called United Kingdom, which when he first told me, I knew I would never be able to say without screaming with laughter. However, he went on to tell us that ‘UK’ is actually a contraction of his - to us - completely unpronounceable name, so that was a relief. One of our cases had arrived by this time, but the other two were ominously absent. UK said he would find them for us with much ease.

Went off to explore and to find Reception to claim our wifi, which is costing us £10 a day, as embarrassingly neither of us can bear to be without it. More queuing mayhem, once we’d forced our way through the crowds, given up on the packed lifts and clambered up the swirly carpeted stairs. Log on completed, result - we can WhatsApp at sea and send emails now; phew. Only one device at a time though, so some bartering needed.

Disappointment number 3 when we found the Atrium, expecting something breathtakingly beautiful, sweeping staircases, glass elevators, a towering waterfall and a dazzling lightshow. Ok, but not quite. Think we’ll have to join Jane on a Royal Caribbean next.

Initial impressions- like a holiday camp crossed with a cross channel ferry, but give it time. A friendly lady whose bosom was pressed into me in the lift said that ‘sea days are always hectic’. So we’ll get a drink, relax in the wind on the deck by the swimming pool, ignore the screaming kids and the pot bellies and wait for sailaway; it’ll be great. 

Just then an announcement came over the tannoy: ‘Will the following passengers report to reception immediately…’ It was one of those moments when you just know it will be you, not one of the other 2,998, definitely you. You’re the star in some nasty cosmic drama. It was – both of us, goodness - why do they want us? It’s the cases, they’ve lost them. Oh God, I can’t cruise for two weeks in just these clothes, they’ll have to let me off and give me a credit note. D said he’d be OK in his at a push.

Queued up at reception again, only to have the embarrassment of the announcement being repeated; managed to catch the eye of someone by pointing to ourselves and nodding, who dramatically removed us from the queue. 

Turned out to be a problem with our passports, we both had the same number and Border Force wouldn’t let us go. He came down to our cabin to sort it out – he said it was a computer error, but D said it was the dozy twit (he didn’t use that word though) on check in, who must have scanned the same passport number twice. Opened the champagne and necked it all; you can stop trembling now. 

The boat is moving! Oh buoy we’re off, let the fantasea begin! Actually, it’s moving a lot and rocking all over the place, there are huge waves out there; the Captain calls it ‘moderate’ in the Channel and advises us to ‘walk carefully’. And there are still no cases…