On the ship my cabin is kind of ok. I’d swap the 40″ TV for somewhere to put my suitcase.
The ship itself is both excellent and terrible. It’s very obviously newer than the others I’ve been on, looking and feeling more modern. It’s also larger, so there are some additional services, such as a dedicated cafe doing pizza and New York style sandwiches.
My luggage arrives a couple of hours after I do but that’s fine, I hadn’t planned on getting changed anyway. I don’t need to rig the clothesline either, I’ll only be washing underwear on this voyage, and only once. At some point in the next couple of days I’ll go through my case, work out which day I need to wash in order to survive the rest of the trip.
I back up my photos again, now up to 6509 of them. That’s going to take some sorting out when I get home. Checking the dragonfly and wasp photos I find out that there’s a third insect I hadn’t even been able to see with the naked eye, a moth (or something) underneath the dragonfly, its internals squirting out as it’s eaten. All three are in focus, and I’m happy.
Before we leave I photograph some ludicrously large tyres. For context those are normal full size shipping containers.
For dinner I tried the pizza, what they call a Bronx pizza but anywhere else would be a Meat Lovers or a Mighty Meaty or some other name that conveyed its inappropriateness for vegans. Obviously I asked them to add jalapenos. It arrived, about 8 inches, halfway between a thin and thick base, topping never getting within an inch and a half of the edge. I’m not going to get fat eating these, unless I have two.
I must’ve been hungry, forgot to take a photo. It was ok, not a great pizza but any pizza would’ve been welcome by then.
Americans stood nearby being loud, my irritation suggesting the broken sleep had left me less capable of managing annoying idiots. I walked away, left them to it, saved the vitriol for when they were somewhere I still wanted to be.
Picking a shirt out of my suitcase made my room smell of stale cigarettes. I swore, loudly. 14 hangers later the bathroom was full of steam and every available bar, hook or handle from which a shirt could hang in there was in use. I closed the door behind me then opened it again, just an inch, 30 seconds of well advertised brand deodorant joining the mist.
I doubt it’ll work. In the morning all 14 hangers will be relocated to a wardrobe and each evening the next day’s shirt will get its very own personal outing in the bathroom, where the aircon should give it a decent airing before morning.
(I know I’m only on the ship for 11 nights, but I’m anticipating tshirt/shirt combinations some days due to swimming or restaurant dress codes or other silliness.)
The guy that tells you about the next port has his act together. He didn’t tell me everything I wanted to know but only because he mentioned something in passing that I want to explore – literally, on foot. So I’ll see if I can hunt him down and get some more information. We’re at sea for the next two days so it’ll give me something to do.
The sea wont be flat either. The lower decks are closed due to high winds, but I did get out onto the aft deck, 9 floors up but still getting salty spray in my face. The wind felt strong there and we’re heading into it, so it must be rather impressive at the front of the ship.
Back in my room the rank stench of cigarettes is joined by perpetual motion and in the wardrobe yet more hangars bang against the walls. I put those ones on the wardrobe floor to stop the noise.
Holland America have found a whole new way to annoy me. No, not the excessively blingful globe. Well, ok, that too.
More serious are the lifts. They announce each deck the lift stops at. I’m on deck 6 but they don’t just declare Deck 6, they use its name instead.
Most of them go, “Deck 6: Mozzer”.
Curiously two have deviated from this. One goes, “Deck 6: Murzer” and the other bewilderingly goes, “Deck 6: Lozzer”
Dear Holland America, the name Mozart requires an ‘oh’ sound and has a fucking T in it.
After a stroll to find a drink, check the dancing (just one couple, and ‘dancing’ is a generous term to use) and stretch my legs (taking me well over 7km for the day) I head to bed just after midnight.