Come on Cunard — don’t be so mean with the wifi / Death By Croissant
Yesterday, we awoke to clouds and it was cold on the balcony — where is sunny South Africa? The jewellery shop where my friend said I might get a discount is closed and all boarded up. We get calls from the children who are arguing about the boiler repair. I have a fit when I find out that one of the plumbers who gave an estimate has covid 19 — I immediately think my son has got it but he says he is out on a run and is fine.
I meet my Spanish class mates and we do no Spanish. My Polish friend who has serious breathing problems is on the phone to her doctor daughter who is trying to order a special mask for her but she needs to take measurements of her face. Andrew searches his suitcase for an inch tape but it was not on the list. She manages later to get a ruler from the purser’s office. She is on and off the phone to her daughter trying to save her wifi minutes.
Just be thankful you Brexiteers that we are still in the transition phase as she tells me that the drugs she takes are made up of different components which are made all over Europe and I believe the same applies to Britain who relies on medication made this way. However, the other side of the argument is that all the European leaders are arguing about the Covid-19 bailout and we are free of that I assume. I am on and off the phone trying to mediate about the frigging boiler which is clearly now my birthday present.
It is like playing snakes and ladders finding your way round the decks, different every day as they close off parts to clean and paint. Up and down staircases only to find you are blocked off. The power walkers are going in every decreasing circles. The captain comes on the tannoy to say that a doctor is coming on the ship by helicopter to health check us — we should not be alarmed by the full medical protection he will be wearing. We all scuttle back to our cabins although not asked to. In the end he comes on board by boat much later in the day. Is this some sort of public health ofsted? Judging by the cleaning panic on board it must be.
The news from home is so bleak that I try not to watch too much television. Boris and Matt Hancock have got it — I am no fan but I am impressed by their stoic determination to carry on. With the generosity of the new chancellor this could be their finest hour. Compared with Donald Trump who thinks we are all going to be having a beautiful time by Easter, they are statesmanlike. Politics are dynamite on this ship, our American bridge partners loath Mr Trump but they are among the few, most of the Americans adore him.
My other Spanish class mate makes me realise how fortunate I am. The only person she has at home is her mentally and physically disabled son. She looked after him at home until he was 26. He is now in a care home and she has never left him for so long before. Her husband died just over a year ago and she says once she gets home she will be alone and she likes having the two of us to talk to, so she is not looking forward to going home. Yesterday she ventured into the swimming pool and said she was very nervous about swimming where she could get out of her depth. I tell her I will save her if she starts drowning (hoping I can — but she is not one of the larger passengers) so she ventures forth and is so pleased with herself that she has done it. I am shocked by the number of people who cannot swim. When I was growing up in Glasgow we had the most wonderful pool called the Western Baths in those days. With no regard to health and safety we had trapezes above the pool that we could swing on and drop on any unsuspecting person below. We dived and jumped into the water and swung along rings above the pool. Magic! (My friend in Australia was the most proficient -– she could fly from one trapeze to the other, I was too chubby for that)
We often meet another couple of ladies in the pub, one we call ‘I’ll have a large one’ — her response when Andrew offered to buy her a drink. (I have a friend we went on holiday to Scotland who will be laughing at this as that became her nickname on that holiday),
I am not so keen on ’I’ll have a large one’ as she is always complaining and is a strident Brexiteer, but her little friend in the wheelchair is delightful (she doesn’t drink) no connection there. She has never been on a plane, cannot swim and as she is in a wheelchair. She worries how she would even get to an assembly point in an emergency as the lifts would not be working. I always remember she used to come and watch the ballroom dancers and seemed to love it.
I know that we are heavily into social distancing and we have stopped sharing tables but now there are large tables where you can sit apart so I decide to ask the ladies from the Spanish class to share a table. N.B. wear hearing aids!.
We meet a complaining guest who hasn’t a good word to say about the cruise. He has a point about the wifi though. Thanks to all of you who post comments (which I quickly read) about my blog on facebook but I don’t respond because of the wifi situation. They are refusing to give us any complimentary wifi as we are no longer a cruise ship. Come on now Cunard these are your future customers. We normally, as world cruisers, would get a little free after each leg. Given so many people are frantic about relatives back home making arrangements to get back to other countries etc — this is very poor.
The Grumbler and his wife– resent the crew having the swimming pool or any perks it seems he is a serial cruiser and clearly a serial complainer.
He grumbles the crew are off hand and rude — this is not our experience. The crew are cleaning and spraying like never before and still smile and say good morning. Blondie on the other hand is fed up with all the politeness so they cannot win.
Today dawns sunny with blue skies and the captain tells us no news yet about being allowed to dock and because it is quite rough where we are, we are going to pull up the anchor and sail out to calmer waters and wait to hear. At least he didn’t say we will get to the top of the queue a week on Thursday. My classmate wouldn’t mind but I am beginning to think will I never see Blighty again.
As we sit down to breakfast it is clear that Andrew has thrown caution to the wind. He starts with a croissant followed by two poached eggs (the muffin he ordered turned out to be two slices of toast) a large slice of bacon — they always give you two eggs unless you specify one — he stops short of more toast while I sit there primly with one boiled egg.
Some people do seem to be eating themselves to death a couple of croissants piled on their side plates, the full English with two eggs and couple of Weetabix to start is not unusual.
