I am sacrificing what I know to be the best Wild Boar Ragu I’ve ever eaten (and the worst service I’ve ever received) in favour of the most appalling sandwich I have ever consumed and super-fast wifi, here, on the sea front in Civvitavechia, the port for Rome. Like most cruise ship entertainers, we all have our favourite ‘haunts’ when we’re overseas and on the whole I’m not really a wifi-chaser, my belly always wins that argument. But though it has been light years since I posted a blog, and apologies are not enough, I have instead eaten a luke warm ham and cheese sandwich which had no mention of ‘a weird raw eggy kind of substance’ in the menu description so that you know I am still dedicated to the cause.
I have, in actual fact had an utterly amazing summer so far and every time i have had the chance to sit down and write something I have truly not known where to start. After working for Celebrity Cruises almost exclusively for the first seven months of this year, I can safely say it has been my most professionally satisfying period of my life to date, and I am positively jubilant at the prospect of working for them again in December. What with mine and Steve’s annual birthday garden bash,(and ‘Paz’s Bar… a bar for the garden as a gift for Steve from my parents..cue cocktail chaos) my brothers three day festival themed wedding in a glamping forest in Yorkshire and the early but highly anticipated arrival of my first Nephew, life has been hectic crazy and highly satisfying both at home and at work. I joined the ship I’m currently travelling on yesterday in La Spezia after an overnight there in a hotel. I haven’t spoken to many people yet as my shows are not till tomorrow and to be honest I am relishing the ‘me’ time. Where has 2014 gone???? Its only 17 weeks till Christmas!!!
This week marks the beginning of a four week stint of ship hopping for me which has unfortunately ended up so as a result of the ever changing travel schedules that are part and parcel of this career choice. I have one day at home, (Monday) and Steve will not be there. I fly home from this contract on Sunday from Barcelona, via Cork to Manchester. I wash and repack for three weeks work on Monday and then I fly, you guessed it… back to Cork. I join a ship there that takes me to Iceland (via the Faroe Islands) where I will disembark, stay overnight and then fly Via somewhere (I haven’t checked yet, probably Germany) to Athens to join another ship that goes to Croatia and Italy and eventually to Turkey where I fly back to Athens to join my third vessel that sails home to Southampton via Vigo in Spain. If you can
a) keep up with all that or
b) give me some kind of idea as to how I’m going to pack for all those different climates within a 20kg luggage allowance
you’re doing better than me.
But I have this crazy time because I took quite a bit of time off in July and August for all those aforementioned family events and whilst I enjoyed every second of being at home I’m ready to tackle this insane month of international roaming with aplomb.
I’m pretty sure, as I’ve remonstrated in earlier blogs that craziness follows me wherever I go and to this end I have started keeping a list of bizarre sightings in my phone to remind myself and indeed to prove to others that I am not inventing these things and that they do actually happen
Recent adages include
A buddist monk on two cellphones in the airport in Estonia
A man with several different coloured bandanas tied around his ankles
A japanese gentleman swimming in the pool on the ship wearing swim shorts and a pair of oxford brogues
A man on the plane wearing an enormous yellow paper tie
A man sat next to me on the train with a dragon in a box marked “Yellow Dragon”
An old black labrador walking through the streets of Nice late at night wearing a hawaiian ‘lay’ with half a rubber chicken in his mouth, looking like he’s just been to the best dog-party ever.
I’ve included a couple of my travelling calamities from the summer so far… there are too many to list… but so very “me” hahaha. Enjoy.. and I WILL be better at this from now on…
I thought I had done a spectacular job of sneaking out of the buffet with a piece of pizza in my mouth without any of the guests recognising me. I had after all, just come off stage where I had procrastinated as per usual at the perils of the weight gain associated by working regularly on cruise lines. But at 10pm I officially finished the days ‘fasting’ (5:2 diet.. see previous blogs!) and was due to meet a couple of the incredibly talented cast of the Celebrity Constellation for a much anticipated glass of vino. Knowing how likely I am to drink the first glass after a show like a goldfish in the desert I thought it sensible to line my stomach with a quick snack before partaking so as not to embarrass myself.
I darted out of the door to the ‘Oceanview Cafe’ like a stealth ninja, still chewing and headed out to the open deck to nip across to the forward end of the ship where my friends awaited my arrival in the Reflections lounge. My new years resolution this past year had been to try and do things slower, all round in general. I rush and fluster naturally and am forever getting myself in a twist as a result of my excessive whizzing about.It drives Steve insane. I’m like the Tasmanian devil, leaving a trail of destruction in my wake. I genuinely did try to address this, but like all good resolutions, I’d forgotten about it come February.
In a thirty minute window I had managed to have a shower and change, pick up my sheet music from the office, collect my CD sales money from the gift shop manager and eat a piece of pizza (OK, two pieces of pizza). I’m not sure if it was my foolhardy dashing about, the slightly damp floor or the implausible gradient of my skyscraper heels but as i careered out of the door into the path of an incoming Japanese gentleman, me and my half eaten mouth of pizza shot into the air most ungraciously and landed like a drunk octopus, all limbs, tangled in a heap at his feet. I looked up at him, embarrassed as hell wishing I’d by chance bumped into someone who HADN’T seen my show that night and therefore I could go through life pretending I was someone else.
He stared at me a moment so I broke the ice with
“Its OK I’m fine. I fall over about 15 times a week”
I giggled nervously as I tried to get up, however unsuccessfully, now resembling more of a newborn foal.
“Can you tell me where I can get a glass of water?” He asked.
Great I thought. I’m scrapping around on the floor like a bar of soap playing twister and this guys more concerned about his next beverage.
A large purple bruise immediately began to emerge from under the skin on my right leg. How will I explain this one to Steve I thought? I always come home from cruise ships looking like I’d just competed in a heavy weight title bout.
I fell over in front of a thirsty Japanese guy. Yeah, that sounds convincing.
The next day brought our arrival into the beautiful port of Warnemunde. Not a place I had visited until a couple of cruises ago but I was excited about the prospect of returning as I’d found the place positively idyllic.
My experiences of Germany till recently were of cities and urban areas. As a family we visited my Uncle when he was posted out here in the army in the late eighties and Steve and I took a marvellous city break to Berlin last year which unfortunately coincided with the period of time I had given up alcohol for lent. I sat there nursing a coke salivating whilst he sampled the fine selection of ‘bier’ so often associated with this country.
But on my first experience of Warnemunde, I was quite flabbergasted to discover this was a quaint seaside hamlet complete with its white powder beach, sporting oodles of seafood restaurants, ‘eiscafe’ and crepe stalls. Fishing and tourist boats sit side by side on the river leading out to the estuary and traditional musicians play wind up music boxes and bottles filled with varying levels of water. Its a lovely place to just amble around, but as I had ambled somewhat only a fortnight ago I instead opted for the train to nearby Rostock, buoyed by the sense of adventure, seeing something new and the pressing urge to go on an adventure.
As I exited the station into my new found destination the enticing waft of grilling sausage from a nearby stand evoked memories of my childhood visits to Dortmund and Paderborn.
I walked for what seemed quite a while before emerging into a pretty town square and much to my pleasure, a food market. I wandered aimlessly between the stalls of dried meats, rotisserie chickens, cheeses and bunches of wild flowers. My first thought was to look for a souvenir for my Dad. He was most contented with his jar of Moose terrine I had recently bought for him in Estonia. He will literally eat anything once as long as its not melted cheese.
Not yet hungry I headed for the main shopping street, whiling my time away and enjoying the freedom of knowing the ship did not leave port until midnight and so I could peruse at my leisure. After what seemed like hours I found a great oriental fast food joint where they wokked me up (if thats even a term) an amazing fresh chow mein and, with a bottle of Coke was only €4.90. Bargain, and totally scrummy. In lieu of any Chinese or German I approached the counter with my now clean plate and started rubbing my stomach and licking my lips ferociously in an attempt to display my gratitude. I think I looked more like a hungry washing machine so I just bowed a bit and left. By the time I’d caught the train back to Warnemunde it was late afternoon and still blissfully balmy. I opted to stay out a while and walk to the beach where I thought I might even sit and watch the sunset. But by now my feet were pretty sore, in fact my left foot was burning copiously on the bottom under my heel and whilst my shoes were relatively flat (by my standard) and I was so desperate not to miss the rest of the day, I thought I’d just walk on my toes for a while until it stopped. My decision to do this coincided unintentionally with my passing by some outdoor diners enjoying a late lunch in the sun. The gentleman was eating a steak of some sort with what I assumed to be Sauerkraut and other accoutrements.The reason I got such a good view of his meal is that for some reason on commencing my tiptoed walk I seemed to have dissisted from actually moving anywhere and so unbeknownst to me I was now marching on the spot beside a bewildered looking German and staring at his dinner. I’m not sure if he thought me a little odd or if I was trying out some new form of military style begging, but either way in a style not dissimilar to Fred Fintstone, I ran a little on the spot before creating the momentum to lean forward and move away. I’m not sure if he was perturbed so much by my antics that I put him off is food or that he is the Guinness Book of Records holder for the slowest ever eater but when I walked back past him a good 20 minutes later he still seemed to be eating as intently as when I left him but no food had disappeared. Maybe he’d asked for seconds.
After a much needed days rest at sea, and surely buoyed by my new found sense of adventure I headed ashore in Stockholm in search of the Abba museum. I wouldn’t call myself a fan as such, more of an admirer but I had heard on the grapevine from several friends who had been there in the past that it was well worth the trip. I’d been advised that the walk into town was approximately 25 minutes and with my map in hand I headed out to locate said museum and get my ‘glitter’ on. En route I called my brother.
“Where are you today?” he asked
“I’m in Stockholm. I was planning to head to the Abba museum but I think I’ve lost my bottle a bit. Its supposed to be an interactive experience and I feel a bit sad going in on my own”
“No go on, do it.” he encouraged. “Theres bound to be a group you can tag along with when you get there”
After getting lost and needing to make the final mile of the journey by cab, I emerged on to the pavement in front of the museum filled with a sudden sense of extreme excitement. I didn’t care if I was on my own, in fact, it may prove better for me to be on my own, I thought to myself, as it was pretty likely I was going to get so giddy once inside that I would have completely shown myself up anyway.
Even the ticket office in the entrance hall was neon-tastic and as i descended into the bowels of the building, interactive ticket and audio guide in hand, I steeled myself to believe it was perfectly normal to go to a museum on your own and that if I had paid for it I was going to get my monies worth.
As I passed between the rooms, reading the information, marvelling at the video footage,admiring the costumes and listening to the four original members on the audio guide telling their stories I found myself in a darkened room with a stage and a sole microphone. Seconds later, three girls got up to sing “Mamma Mia” with three projected holograms of the band members and I beamed openly at how much they were enjoying themselves.
“Go on, have a go..” a lady next to me urged. I hesitated for a moment and then thought “why the hell not?..no one knows me” and I gave the attendant my interactive ticket and bounded on to the stage for my starring moment. Completely oblivious to all around me I hollered out my best rendition of “Dancing Queen” and bopped away to my hearts content with the holograms. Giddiness and adrenaline surged through me as I left the stage and laughed heartily to myself at how completely crackers I was for doing all this on my own. Throughout the tour I danced in an Abba pop video to “Take a Chance on me” and posed for a head shot which was super imposed on to an “Abba-tar” so I could try on those infamous lycra jumpsuits for myself. I left the museum feeling elated, a little silly but very glad I’d summoned up the guts to go in.
“I’m getting pretty good at these solo adventures” I thought to myself and walked out into the sun with my Abba Museum hot dog and called my Grandad to tell him I was the 5th member of the group.
I decided to walk back to the ship, it didn’t look that far and even though I had already walked at least three miles that day looking for the museum I figured I was in no rush as the ship didn’t sail till five and I wanted to enjoy the fresh air. A detour into town to a pharmacy for an injured crew friend and at least an hours walking later I realised why nobody else had walked to AND from the Museum and that I now had a blister on top of the blister I had acquired after my epic walking day in Germany two days prior. I berated myself for not taking a ferry or a taxi back. I was exhausted but jubilant on my return and after a brief jacuzzi in the solarium to ease the aching muscles, I prepared myself for my last night on board the ship before heading home to start the preparations and celebrations for my brothers upcoming nuptials.
As I hobbled that all too familiar route to the gangway to disembark with an implausibly large amount of luggage and two fresh blisters some passengers stopped me in the stairway…
“We saw you singing with Abba yesterday…you looked like you were having a lovely time!”
Drat! I’ve been rumbled!
