10. Seas the Day

 Ah, last two days at sea, before these seasoned cruisers have to disembark (ridiculously early) at Southampton on Saturday morning. Yes, we have to leave the cabin by 7.30am, muster in the Tamarind Lounge between 7.45 and 8.00, then be summarily sent down the gangplank. After that we have to find our cases among at least 6,000 others: apparently they are arranged in deck order, but not necessarily together. D is whittling already – about that and about finding the car in the massive pound by the dockside. Oh dear. We spoke to some experienced cruisers this morning, who had cannily booked the latest possible embarkation (the cases have thinned out nicely by then), but even that is 9.00. Ventura needs to be deep cleaned again, owing to the huge amount of vomiting voyagers. Then it’s off back to Spain & Portugal in the evening.

Yesterday we packed in as much as we could, did three quizzes and went to a talk about the Pride of The P&O Fleet. I jauntily went off to The Exchange pub, expecting general knowledge quizzes to be dumbed down a bit for a cruise, so in with a chance of doing rather well. Not a bit of it – not only were the questions really hard (the name of the sea between the Philippines and Borneo anyone?*), but some people were super knowledgeable. We found out what a Gong Farmer does (shovel out privvies & cesspits) and the chemical symbol for sodium hydroxide (NaOH). We got 9/20 and were possibly the thickest there – that’ll teach me. Two large glasses of wine in the Metropolis Bar needed after that.

The Pride of The P&O Fleet is Arvia: we listened to a young lad who's just been promoted from a call centre, read from a card about the splendour, grandeur and all round magnificence of the ship. There was a powerpoint too, with pictures of an absolutely stunning ship that makes Ventura look like a ferry. It holds over 5,000 people and has all the glass, roses, pampas and lightshows I could ever want, plus aerial displays in the Atrium, a Sky Dome and an Aerial walk on the top deck. Oh my. D wanted to seas the day and book immediately, but I read a few reviews later which were less than complimentary, including one with the title ‘Butlins at Sea’. Have to think a bit more about that.

Today we had the pleasure of listening to those who have been attending the vocal workshops; they gave a final, joyous concert in the Atrium. I said I wished I’d gone to the workshops, but D said that they weren’t advertised as suitable for the tone deaf.

Ate in the The Epicurean last night, a posh restaurant with a cover charge – we’re on a mission to use every penny of our £560 onboard spend, otherwise we’ll lose it. We’re down to £41 now. Lovely meal with attentive waiters (who gave us time to eat) and showed off their skills by assembling D’s crème caramel dessert at the table, complete with chocolate art and flamboyant blow torching.

Before that we went in our finery to be photographed – nice memento of not just the cruise, but our Golden Wedding Year, I said. We chose a suitable backdrop of gold and black balloons. The posing was excruciating – he made us wrap one arm around each other, then place our other hands on top of each other; then he made me wrap one arm around D’s back and the other on his chest. I looked as if I was checking he was still breathing. I said a swift ‘No’ to that one, but felt I had to shut up and accept the others. Even the one with D looking like Nelson with his hand in his jacket and me gazing adoringly while caressing his shoulder. Yuk.

So we didn’t have high hopes when we went to view the photos this morning, but were still shocked – D said he didn’t know who the doddery old man was and I wondered where my three chins had come from. No thanks.

Feeling a bit sad, because it’s almost Land Ahoy – just one more meal, a sleep, an early get up, a great deal of wittering – then home. D says they’re taking bookings for 2026 in Explorers on Deck 5. Ridiculous… 

* It's the Sulu Sea