I have vodka. I just don’t want to drink any today. Which is a shame as it means I’ll have to carry it around with me instead, after disembarking tomorrow.

I collected the vodka just after failing to attend the kitchen tour. To get on that you need to fill in a small medical survey, the answers to which made the tour leader panic and tell me to go to the medics on Deck A. I just skipped the tour instead. I don’t really want to turn the ship’s main kitchens into a medical quarantine zone.

So my day started simply. Coffee, skipped tour, collected vodka. Considered more coffee.

Moris was back, and still seems confused that I don’t need him to tidy the room or make my bed. I suggested to him that by waiting until tomorrow he can have the room to himself but he seemed to want to return in the evening.

Pizza from the lido for lunch then coffee with me to America’s Test Kitchen, where they finally had some proper chocolate. The whole ethos of the ship’s approach to chocolate became distressingly clear as the lady teaching people how to make a French chocolate pudding declared that there’s no difference between 35% and 70% chocolate.

“No difference.” Some chef she is.

After that a Q&A with the ship’s singers and dancers, and a chance to pop backstage. One question was ‘your career highlight’ and as a group they should be feeling very depressed that between them their three highlights where ‘failed audition for thing on tv’, ‘failed audition for broadway show’ and ‘failed audition for rock star backing act’. I almost feel sorry for them all.

Dinner in the Lido, so that I could avoid the excessive noise of the chefs in the restaurant being congratulated for doing their job. Beef brisket with mash, simple but tasted good.

The evening’s entertainment was a mostly naked man from near Brisbane. He hit two bits of wood together, performed a slow dance, sang in an undulating voice. When he stood up and talked to us in an ordinary Australian accent it was a mix of telling us the songs and dances and homilies more suited to children. For a greying man with a paunch wearing a sliver of cloth and paint he did manage to retain a high level of dignity, keeping it even in his dances, somehow including the one mimicking a kangaroo.

A later show had a blend of two previous nights, the magician from yesterday with less impressive tricks but still entertaining, then a violinist that I hadn’t seen. He had that smugness that some violinists exhibit, a level of solo artist narcissism that made me leave early.

In the Lido staff were.. I’m not sure.

I’m also not sure that my phone camera’s lens should be creating such extensive flare effects.

Back in my cabin I packed, my suitcase’s weight and fullness explained by three two litre bottles of water I’d been carrying now for three weeks and a bottle of vodka. The other bottle I left in my dance bag, I’d carry that off the ship myself. After leaving my suitcase in the corridor I got paranoid about the glass bottle in it breaking, cutting the jacket I’d wrapped it in, ruining my clean clothes and dress shoes. It’s a risk I’ll have to take, too late to change now.

The important items all go in the camera bag anyway. Camera, tablet, kindle. I can replace clothing more easily.

Despite that I did get up half an hour later to use the loo, opened the cabin door, found my suitcase still there. Opening it up I found the vodka better protected than I’d decided it needed to be: clearly I’m subconsciously getting my priorities entirely correct.

If you’re wondering why I didn’t just drink it it’s because I’ve found that alcohol kills my ability to recover from virus type illnesses and a small amount of dizziness aside I’ve been much better today than the past week, and don’t really want to relapse.

Only 5km walked today, and a sensibly early night. I only got out of bed at 9am but I’m due to disembark at 8.30 in the morning so need to be up, dressed and full of cruise ship coffee by then.