It’s another day at sea as we head towards Borneo. Again, there have been many lovely encounters with my fellow passengers and I have received much advice about how to make myself less susceptible to attack in both Naples and Rome, where crime is rampant. Scary. No watch or handbag or sunglasses or items in pockets. Wear my backpack in front. Watch out for Vespas and for gypsies who will thrust their baby into your arms and take off with everything whilst you struggle to stop the baby from falling . . . And apparently train travel in Italy is just as dangerous. On the other side of the coin, there is so much unemployment in Italy and there have been so many desperate refugees pouring into Italy with no social support . . . the crimes against visitors also must be attributed to the lack of good governance in Italy for many decades, if not centuries. I will just have to be very careful.
So far I have not mentioned some of the practical realities of living on a ship. There is a small laundry just near my cabin, but I do not use it as all my clothing must be washed by hand. That is more practical when you are going to be spending much of your time travelling around in a bus and train. Many of my tops are made from fine merino wool, so I treat all clothes as they are made from the same fabric, rolling them in a towel afterwards. Then I hang them on the clothesline that is strung over the shower. (You should have seen me pulling that across to set it up, just after my first shower - before I stepped out to dry myself. No doubt a sight to behold, had there been anyone else sharing my cabin!) I am sure the people who fitted out the ship assumed that no passengers are vertically challenged; yet most passengers are 60 and over and many like me are short. I can only reach the line to hang up my washing by standing on my ‘tippy toes’. Oh well, that is my daily spinal stretch taken care of.
I would add I have a delightful cabin steward who services the room at least twice a day. Poor man - I wonder what he thinks of having my socks etc. dangling down over him as he cleans my shower. But he says not a word and instead greets me with a cheery smile every time he sees me. Every night he leaves two small Belgian chocolates and the next day’s newsletter on my bed, with the lights on, the bed turned down and curtains closed. What a life! Now If I could just have a butler and a chef when I go back home I would count myself very lucky indeed.
The bed I have is King size. It feels like sinking into feathers each night. The ship then rocks you gently to sleep. While I have a balcony with a table and two chairs, I don’t sit out there for this part of my journey because when I do sit down I like to read. Unfortunately it is so humid out there, your glasses instantly fog up. So instead I take off my shoes and read on my bed. The ship has a most extraordinary large library, by the way, with books in different languages and beautifully timbered books shelves and tables and other facilities, all presided over by a librarian. And both the library and the Connections room provide computers for passenger use.
Back to my book . . .
My next blog will be written after we visit Borneo.
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