Glorious afternoon spent on the balcony sun-bathing

in the nude.There I am with not a single care in the world, reading Red,minding my own business,lying on a make-shift sun-lounge made by turning two sun-chairs together and placing a small table between them, then putting two towels and two pillows on top - and hey presto.So there I am on my belly with not a single care in the world, when I hear  strange noise, didn't think anything of it, presumed it was coming from the port,when suddenly a shadow appears on the magazine,I look up and there is this large contraption hanging off my balcony.I couldn't see any-one on it, so turned back to read, but in a split second I realized the THING couldn't just move by itself,someone must be making it move,so I jumped up and looked left and yes,there was a man's head sticking out, laughing. I don't know who had more of a shock, him or me! My cabin was on 11th floor, the last thing I was expecting was someone deciding to do maintenance just as I was resplendent in all my glory! If the experience has taught me anything, it is to never underestimate any strange noises! My lovely Oceana is fraying at the edges,it needs some tender loving care,that's true,the drawers in the room are raggedy, the balcony is rusting,even though it is a perfect balcony for me-it is metal with bars at the front,plenty of sunshine gets through. I also rang my sister and her husband,they both regretted not coming with me.We talked for a long time,I had her inimitable rendition of the Christmas celebrations,apparently even our lovely little addition to the family born last May loved his present- a massive car, that is very colourful and makes the noises babies love.But then he is a good baby and smiles at everything.Dinner in the Ligurian was excellent,starter bresaola,followed by roast venison,then coffee cheesecake and cheese.Cheese was so utterly delicious, wish had more instead of the cake,but then I adore cheesecake and can never resist it.Before dinner I spent over an hour in the gym, running for 50 minutes, then doing floor exercises on the ball. Altogether the most wonderful day.

If it is a Monday, it must be La Palma.

A year or so ago, the ship I was on was diverted to this lovely little island, because we couldn't dock at the scheduled port due to bad weather,in fact whilst writing, I remembered it was exactly a year ago during a Christmas cruise to Canary Islands.We were supposed to dock in Lanzarote, but were diverted to La Palma.I do not like Lanzarote.It is barren, plain,ugly small buildings, no character. When Mr Cameron had taken his family to Lanzarote for a holiday I thought he must have done it for one simple reason - to avoid the paparazzi.Why else would he want to go there, when are so many other so much more beautiful places to visit. When we docked a year ago on La Palma, I was expecting a nothing of an island. Instead I discovered a gem. The shops are small, no massive supermarkets or shopping malls. And thank God for it.I do not remember what I had bought a year ago,but today I picked up a delightful dress,made in Spain, a lovely top, made in Spain,a super bag-this I do not know the origins of, must look it up, and a made in Spain ring, then in a tiny boutique called Carmel, I bought a super duper jacket destined to be worn on New Year's Eve, and a stunning necklace.I even got a discount, true, I had to ask for it,but I got it. I didn't sit down to have coffee, because I would have been tempted to have a cake and did not want to be disappointed, as anything I may have bought in town, would not have equalled the superb little concoction I had for lunch on the ship- a walnut and coffee miracle so adorable, that it seemed a shame to eat it!I did take a picture,of course, and if I wasn't such an idiot, I would unload it now, but I do not know how, maybe one day.In fact the whole lunch was pretty special- I do not remember what the starter was(my wooden head),the main was delicious Thai chicken curry,cleared the plate! Then spent the rest of the afternoon on the balcony in the nude.Divine. To me the bestest holiday in the whole wide world is, when I am in the alltogether on the balcony, with nothing but the ocean around me. The weather was glorious, blanket sunshine from the moment the sun popped its head out, till it set behind a mountain.

Boxing day 2015,Oceana.

Woke up at 8,respectable time,off to the gym.Floor exercises using a ball, my back loves being stretched. I do pull ups and push ups.An hour on a treadmill while listening to music.From there to the Plaza self-service to get some lemon slices to mix with warm water.I am always late for the hot porridge, as the breakfast stops being served at 10,so I scrape the barrel, so to speak, the porridge barely warm. Sometimes I have fruit,melon is my favourite,or tinned peaches,orange segments,figs.Outside is warm, changed into a swimming suit, but after 10 minutes of lying on a deckchair, was too cold and went to have lunch.A good decision.Salad Nicoise with blue cheese dressing was good and the carved slow roast pork belly even better.Crackling, not even on the menu, was on the plate, and was a divine perfection.The tuna in the salad was my first tuna on this cruise. Jamie Oliver's Recipes in Notting Hill serve he best tuna sandwich ever, but they also have the most awful polenta orange cake.Jamie, you are spreading yourself too thinly.Please take your name off this, what is fast becoming the worst hyped-up establishment in the area.It used to be good but has slowly gone down the hill,coffee undrinkable,cakes a great disappointment,the salads a strange mix of ingredients, that do not marry well, go and learn from Mr Ottolenghi,or just forget the fancy footwork and stick to basics,those you do wonderfully well,the sandwiches are still excellent.There was once a Victoria sponge baked to perfection, but I have not seen it since.And talking about Victoria sponges, had a small one today following the salad and the pork.It was, oh la la.Oceana,to date you have not disappointed me. In March, after spending 11 wonderful nights on board with my friend, I said you had provided the best food I had ever had on a ship.No iffs,no butts,no therefores. The best.You are on the way to a repeat accolade. Last nights Christmas dinner was almost a masterpiece,a sad potato let it down,but the rest - turkey with the classic trimmings, was a perfection.Mrs Beeton's pudding not my favourite, I prefer any from Marks and Spencer, but it was beautifully served.There were tiny mince pies, slices of stollen, and a boozy chocolate cake. Dinner was leisurely,my waiters Ismail and Baboolei got their presents and off to the theatre I went to listen to Clem Curtis. Who,you may ask, as did I,until he started to sing all the songs I hear on the radio and like.For the ignorant like myself- Clem was a lead singer in the 60s group The Foundations, one of their songs was at No1 in 1967,but I have forgotten which.His performance was a masterclass in confidence,panache,in the ease, with which a performer should handle his audience.We sang, we clapped,we gave a standing ovation. Alas, he gave one performance only.I suppose at 75 the dog is too old to learn new tricks,even the top dog.My neighbours at dinner were lovely,he more forthcoming than his wife,politely inquisitive. Why are people so interested in me? The queue before dinner was massive,I, as a rule, do not queue.I do not run after a bus and I do not queue.So instead of queuing, I was walking about,observing. Father holding a barely one year old adorable little mite with bare feet, how I hate it when I see toddlers without socks on, poor thing must have been freezing. Anyway, the father was circling around me,I knew the inevitable would happen and it did, he started questioning me, as if feeling sorry to see me alone. I said in the nicest possible way I was happy to be by myself.

Still the Christmas day.

Yesterday tried out my table No 50, allocated to me for tonight's dinner and for the dinner on New Year's Day.I will be served by my two favourite waiters,lucky coincident.Have bought them both Givenchy, it was wrapped in christmas paper for me in the shop,as was Armani I gave earlier today to my room attendant, Ines. When I say Armani, I mean Armani eau the toilette,the same goes for Givenchy. Last year my waiters got Ives St Laurent,the boys were overjoyed. It makes me happy to make them happy.After all, it is Christmas, and nice to be given a little present. Christmas Eve's meal was utterly wonderful, the best starter so far - a jumbo prawn dressed,well, it was dressed to delicious perfection, and the main course was just as good - Gressingham goose, with all the trimmings,sweet baby carrots, baby carrots in December,how utterly lovely. But good as the meal was, the previous night's veal steak Oskar was even better-mashed potatoes, asparagus,gravy- even the Queen would have licked her fingers,a marriage made in the kitchen. Last night's pudding was too much of a mousse for me, a kind of cold souffle,and my lovely waiters even brought me vanilla ice cream.This was not on the menu, they just thought it will make me happy.I do not like vanilla ice cream, have never in my life ordered it. And there it was on the table. But I just could not say no,I could not hurt the boys'feelings. Tea served in the dining room -ordinary tea with milk, is excellent, and I prefer it to anything. The coffee in a coffee shop, next to the internet cafe,is also good. I had a cup with an extra shot and it was good, not as good as in Panta Rhei in Nitra ,or in Vienna, and certainly it would never equal any coffee in Livorno, but good coffee it was, nonetheless. It is 11.30,soon I will be having some lunch in the dining room. If I want a table to myself, must stand in a queue at 12 or shortly after, otherwise the dining room gets filled up and I would have no chance.

Christmas Day, 2015.

In the five years I have been cruising I have seen once only the correct way of buttering a bread roll.You do not cut it in half and butter both sides and then bite off as you go along.You break off a piece,butter it, should you wish to do so,(and I mostly don't, as the bread on every ship is baked daily and the rolls are mostly the best ever,often wonderfully inspiring,some with seeds, some with olives,except on this cruise,where there are very disappointing, even though the sliced fruity bread is delicious, but not really to be eaten with soups and such,as it is more like plain pudding and very much to my liking)and then put it in your mouth and eat it.Why,on the vast scale of things, with so much misery in the world, should it matter how bread is eaten in public.Well,in my humble opinion, it does matter,it is to do with good manners,with culture,with breeding. People stare at me, when they see me breaking off a bit and then placing it in my mouth,now and then I hear them whispering and even pointing at me,yes,pointing, This is how utterly ignorant some travellers are.I had roast chicken the other day, and, as with all birds, you can hold the meat with your fingers, and there was this idiot saying to her partner - look at that woman,she walks as if she owned the ship,but holds the chicken with her hands. Yes, you dumbo, I can, and I do. Anything that flies, can be taken into one's hands and one day, if a pig flies, you can take it into your hands,too. Majority of people have quite appalling table manners-talking with mouth full,not holding the cutlery correctly,leaving a tea-spoon in the cup when drinking from it,leaning on elbows on the table,licking a knife, yes, some do this utterly disgusting thing,too, and slurring, are people deaf? Not every-one was born with a silver spoon in the mouth. My family was so poor,I had my first new dress and shoes when I was 15,until then I wore hand me downs from my older sister.My dad,the nicest,the kindest and the most hard-working man in the world, had eaten everything with a spoon when at home, so as not to give my mom unnecessary extra work washing up,we were six children,the household on mum's shoulders,but in company he out-mannered every-one. My Swedish friend Helen had taught me how to eat a prawn, ladylike,her family owns an island,she knew all about the fish and what to do with it once it is on the table. In the self-service restaurant people pile up the food high,mixing it all together, the eyes being greedy, the belly often cannot take it all in so the food is thrown away. And, of course, the bigger they are, the more they pile up.The other evening while listening to Mr Jerzy's piano recital, I noticed a fine figure of a man standing and looking intently across the landing, obviously expecting someone, he was dressed in the full sailor's finery,trim, good looking.I caught an eye of an elephant wobbling across towards him, with a baby elephant behind,the baby shouting daddy,daddy.The mother elephant was quite a shock to do system,gormless,formless green garb with a green short wrap that came to her waist,from top to toe two meters wide,short lifeless hair that hadn't seen water for a good week.The back of a 94 bus from Acton to Piccadilly looks more appealing. Woman, for cry now loud, don't you ever take a look at yourself in the mirror?And even if you do not care, how you look, what on earth are you doing to your child?!You had dressed it in an off the shoulder garb more suitable for a thirty year old, and not a 12 year old girl.And the husband,cant you put your foot down and say to that ignoramus - you can kill yourself by stuffing yourself, but do not send my child to an early grave.

The Christmas Eve 2015 on Oceana was lovely.

There was a classical concert last night with a guitarist Ben Kearsley.The theatre was more than half empty, and optimist would say more than half full,but it was not, more is the pity, as he was good and a lot of the ignoramuses on the ship could do with a bit of culture.Some had the bad manners to walk out when they realized Bach was on the menu.The second half of the evening was devoted to Kristian Grey, a magician.This was not to my liking and none of his Irish charm and banter made any difference.At 6 pm tonight a magical arrival of Santa will happen and no doubt the children will love it as they did on the Queen Victoria last year.And this is what it is all about-giving the kids the time they will always remember.Christmas is for the children,for the magic we stop believing in too soon.My sister was telling me what her little grandson,my godson, had told her-grandma,I don't think father Christmas brings the presents.How can he,with so many children in the world,even with the helpers that he has it just cannot be done.He was 8, a little mathematical genius with straight A's.He had worked it out in his own little head.My sister said - I almost fainted, I thought some clever Dick had been giving the children the benefit of his stupidity.It took all my skills to come up with a believable explanation.He looked at her doubtfully but accepted it as he loves his grandma with all his little heart and believes everything she tells him.And what was it she said to him? That just temporarily, for the Christmas season, so that all the children get presents, there are thousands little helpers to drop off the presents.The magic should be kept alive for as long as the children believe in it.They are the lucky ones.They are the ones with loving parents and caring grandparents and giving godmothers and teachers that make you fall in love with them.My sister's boy [the father of the mathematical genius] had a crush on his first teacher,he adored her and every day came home from schools with the stories how nice she was,how pretty she was.My sister asked him if she was pretty.He looked at her long and hard and said - you can be pretty when you have a nice dress on.And,by the way, the little genius loves foot-ball,several months ago he gave I think 23 goals during a match,we laughed and laughed-did the other side actually have any players ?Was there a goalkeeper on the field? He would like to be a professional footballer and says with his first million he will buy his parents a house and his grandma, granddad and myself will be taken on a luxury holiday to Dubai.Lovely as it sounds I would much rather he earned a living with his quite impressive brain.His younger brother Adam, started school in September and to date has earned 35 straight A's.And my sister says he is absolutely not interested in any sport and is a little introvert, quite happy to mind his own business and expects others to mind their own,just like his godmother.Yes,my little godson,I concur.

Christmas Eve , 2015.

This is my second Christmas at sea.I love water.And I cannot swim.I know,I know,utter disgrace,have always wanted to learn,have even made an appointment to see an instructor, but had to cancel.There has never been the time.Years and years ago in Israel there was a boy willing to teach me, but I was having too much fun to take it seriously and he did not have the patience. Oh, the impatience of youth! We think we have so much time on our hands, you want to do this, that, and something else, and suddenly a lifetime has passed you by and you wonder where has it all gone.Why isn't there more time? I have so many plans still for today and tomorrow,everything I had no time for yesterday.But tomorrow is a yesterday before you blink and you did so little again, yet you had your hands full from morning til night and if you had to account for every minute, even every hour,you just could not do it, you cannot remember one single thing you did, but the evening comes and you are so tired and often so satisfied with the day you remember nothing of. Where does the time go? So much of it seems wasted,you feel you have never learnt anything,yet somehow you feel wiser as you grow older, never quite old enough, never quite wise enough.Long time ago I was at a high school reunion. We were asked to say what we had learnt,one thing, the most important thing we had learnt since leaving school.I said - when you are young, everything seems to be the end of the world, when you grow older you realize, that nothing is. Have I learnt anything new since the reunion? Yes,I have. It is that with a blink of an eye your life changes when you expect it the least,that now,today is what matters, that the precious present time is not in abundance. That you must make the most of what you have and that nothing is easier said than that. Because doing what you so often know to do you must,is so very hard.The past will not let you move on.The memories of all the rights and all the wrongs you had done will not let their grip and you are on a journey of learning to forgive yourself, but it is the most difficult journey you will ever undertake and it is a journey without an end.And day after day you are drowning in grief,in pain,in sorrow,you wish you did so many things differently,you wish you did not wake up on December 28, 2010 to a stillness and peace you did not hear for two long years,you wish you realized sooner, that the peace and quiet were unnatural,you wish...You wish you could forget even for a moment...

22 December 2015

Flyrights are here. We met on the Azura in September.We met on the Queen Elizabeth in November.We meet again on the Oceana. But I will not be going to see their performance tonight.The Oceana has two lovely theatres-at the back of the ship, STARLIGHTS, at the front of the ship, FOOTLIGHTS.Tonight is a formal night,it means a black tie and fancy gladrags, and I will be going to see the Headliners Theatre Company and their GOTTA SING,GOTTA DANCE in the Footlights at 8.30. What am I going to wear on this very first night, when the most important impressions are made? With me it is always a last minute decision. On Sunday there was my favourite adaptation of Jane Austen's book Persuasion. In fact this particular 1995 BBC period drama is my absolute favourite of all the small screen adaptations of her books, Amanda Root as the protagonist Anne Elliot and Ciaran Hinds as captain Wentworth.It is the most understated yet superb work.There is nothing to equal it,except,of course, my favourite film Pride and Prejudice with Lawrence Olivier and Greer Garson.I am totally and completely in love with the film.Greer was such an adorable Elizabeth,her mouth quite enchanting.My dear friend Emily has mouth like that-kind of slightly pinched.Lily James who played Cinderella, has a strange mouth,too,it is passable enough, when she smiles and says very little, but when she speaks fast,the lips take this ugly shape and go on a journey of their own. Of course she cannot help it,we are what we are.Lilly is beautiful,but she should be seen and not heard.Now she has been chosen to play Natasha Rostova in a War and Peace production of the BBC.No,please no. Nothing that has been done by any-one but the Russians as far as any Russian novel is concerned, has been any good, no film,no TV adaptation.The best book ever written, the masterpiece never equaled, Master and Margarita by Bulgakov,has never been anything but a novel.And thank God for it.I would hate to see it mutilated and turned into a Hollywood horror.Or a BBC money spinner.

Well,hello Oceana.

How I have waited to see you again, please do not disappoint me.Internet plan purchased,250 minutes for 62.50 plus 40 minutes gratis.The position of the computers is good, but not excellent.They are by the window, small mercy,but in the busiest part of the ship, opposite the reception and next to a bar,you can barely squeeze by the chairs to the computer I want to use-right in the corner,it offers some privacy.I am able to see every-one and unfortunately hear every-one. There is a dance class taking place.Few people prancing about.Not me. Why torture myself? Several days before sailing had a letter from P&O informing me about the new and very successful way of checking in-apparently this has been tested on Britannia and now is being extended on all ships.For this you have to download your e-ticket,and on the ticket you will have the exact time you must present yourself at the check - in point,in my case at 2pm. Theoretically it all looked good,but in the terminal things were going from bad to worse-checking slow, very slow and then disastrously slow.Apparently the weather conditions were not good, waves too big.And this had slowed the process down.You know the one about the wrong leaves on the rail-tracks? No-one believed the waves story either. On board the compulsory safety instructions at 5,at 6 dinner. A little table to myself. Risotto piping hot and delicious,minestrone soup piping hot, not delicious. Vegetable curry very nice indeed, but lukewarm. Brioche pudding and custard lovely,lovely,lovely. Not enough currants or were they raisins,but lovely.And ever so nice tea,too,proper English breakfast tea with milk. At 8 so tired,so to bed,went off like a light. Woke up two hours later then oh la la,could not sleep,nothing much on TV, but the music channel excellent,the last time I looked at the watch was 6 am.But I did not mind not sleeping, was in no hurry to go anywhere. Said good-bye to breakfast and decided to have a leisurely shower and wait for lunch instead. So far so good. Oh so very,very,very good.

Roy Walker,a TV personality,performed several nights ago.

The picture showed a middle aged dapper man.What came on stage was an old man in an ill fitted suit.But if there is one thing life has taught me,it is never to judge a sausage by the skin.His memory-enviable.Wit-razor sharp.Jokes-wonderfully amusing.My favourite:Bill Clinton came no Ireland.Hundred women were asked in a poll,if they would ever sleep with him.99 answered -never again.His song VIAGRA got a standing ovation.I loved him.Frequent cruisers get some internet minutes free-I myself get 240.Of all the places in the world I love writing on Cunard ships the best.It is the position of the computers, that is a stroke of genius.The writing in these surroundings becomes therapeutic.The magnificence of the constant yet ever changing horizon-the waves playfully chasing each other,the sun disappearing behind the clouds and then coming out again, bright and life giving.The mighty ball of heat and light gracing us with its presence on this as if godforsaken spot,yet ship making its purposeful strides ahead knowing where it is going, where the same sun will shine brightly,or not, again.How can this be?Is it the hand of God? On Dec 8 we docked in Praia da Vitoria,Terceira,Azores,the ship's maiden call.As Horta, the original port,was too dangerous to dock in,this tiny island was chosen instead.Why we couldn't have gone to one of the Canary Islands,is beyond me.We were carted off to a dumpy little town on a dumpy little island.The natives in a shock.Never before has anything so mighty been seen here.We were welcomed by singing and dancing ,but majority of shops remained firmly closed-they must have heard of the British shop-lifters!No bank was open.How do these people live and prosper? There is supposed to be an American base 3km out of town,the Yanks must bring enough trade in the evenings.I took a few photos and returned to the ship.But at least we were not subjected to the nightmare of tenders as would have been the case on Horta. Tenders are little boats, that ferry us from the ship to the mainland, if the water by the mainland is too shallow. There was a moment I will treasure for ever-a tiny solitary boat circling, looking at us quizzically as if saying- what are you doing here,you blot on the horizon,you are intruding,go away...Too many people smell on this ship.Good 40% have probably not had a shower since leaving Soton.It is because they are too fat and the shower cubicles too small.The smell is not so noticeable on a 7 night cruise, but 24...This morning the sun popped out again and we could sun-bathe.There was a great big whale in a speedo resplendent on a deck chair.I have seen him several times in the company of a woman.Can't quite make out what their relationship is - daughter,mistress,wife?Clothed he looks my kind of a man -well built, a little belly,smartly dressed.But what possesses an almost 70 year old man to done on that airtight monstrocity! And why doesn't the woman put her foot down.Some men not only look questionable,they have a personality to match.At breakfast today I popped a slice of bread into the toaster.A man with a stubble and a shirt that badly needed ironing,his socks a strange muted white,popped 3 slices of bread into the same toaster.We stood there and waited. I never expected him to turn to me and say annoyingly-you know you can use the other toaster and pointed his finger.I looked at the ugly face,his dirty fingernails, so wanting to say-you idiot,am I standing here like a lemon, waiting for a a dumbo like you to tell me which toaster to use? Instead I smiled sweetly and said - I know.He kept on looking at me challengingly. Then my toast slid down into the holder.He looked startled,he was not expecting that.

Tomorrow is the last full day of sailing.

Even if from this very moment until tomorrow evening the food here was out of this world,it would not change my view of the ship.Taking into account the fact that this is a five star cruiser, the food has been the worst I have ever had on a ship.It has been a hit and miss affair, with more misses that hits.I would never ever voluntarily sail on the QE again.As I have already said - after my first cruise on the QE I thought she was like a poor sister of the Queen Mary and the Queen Victoria.Now I can say with clear conscience, that nothing whatsoever has since improved,on the contrary,the ship has become like a second cousin twice removed.There have been moments I have enjoyed here - the wonderful performers, including last night's Cunard's own singers and dancers.Where do these youngsters get the energy?! Of course they are young,but still.There has also been a harpist Magdalena Reising, she has the most delightful voice and sings in several languages. THE FOOD. I love good food. Who doesn't, you may ask. I like it simple, hot and plenty of it! Why would I pretend to eat like a bird?I have a healthy appetite and may it long continue.I have had some memorable meals in my life.The feast quite out of this world was at my dear friend's wedding many years ago. It was cooked in the little village where I was born by local cooks as if preparing Sunday lunch.My sister is a superb cook, too,the younger one I was with on a cruise, where we learnt to line dance! Whenever I visit she prepares paprika chicken in cream sauce with as light as feather dumplings.I am not usually a lover of sauces,hence the French cuisine is not my favourite,but this dish is something special.My older sister cooks equally well and bakes even better.You blink and there is a divine cake on the table! When did she manage to get it done? Is she a magician? I have not seen her labour over a hot stove. My friend,whose wedding was such a memorable experience, has matured into a little master chef.What she can do with mushrooms has to be tasted to be believed!I love good coffee and would much rather not drink any,if it is not to my liking.The best coffee I remember having, was in Livorno in September last,where any little side-street coffee shop serves coffee you will not find in England.There is another lovely place where everything is served with grace and smile-Panta Rhei in a shopping centre called Mlyny in a small university town of Nitra in Slovakia.

And I lost a page I have typed,

and please, do not ask me how and why.Must have pressed something accidentally.The food.I love croissants.And no-one makes them better than the hotel Bauer in Venice.This is a five star establishment.I am fully aware not many people have the funds to be able to stay there, but if you can, pop in for breakfast.It will take your breath away.They also have an excellent room service and their sandwiches are second to none.Canary Islands also have pastry shops you find rarely anywhere else.There are tiny shops far from the maddening crowds, where only the locals sit and eat and drink.And yours truly.If they are there, I find them.I love walking where no tourist's foot had been.I am going to make it my mission to find those shops, where I have already had tiny little croissants in the past.What they lacked in size ,made up in flavor.But the best breakfast on the planet where they serve everything I love,is in a hotel called Thermia Palace in a spa town of Piestany, in Slovakia.This hotel had been voted 7th best in the world to lose weight in.What?!I go there for the food,for the most excellent spa treatments, for a body massage that sends me to seventh heaven,for mud wraps. And the New York Times, or was it the Wall Street Journal,well, some such well respected newspaper, had voted Thermia to be the 7th best in the world for losing weight!I have no doubt 7th best it is.There I had my first"Sex on the beach",not sex, silly, cocktail.Now I sometimes ask for it and the waiters know it even though for understandable reasons the name has been changed.Thermia is frequented by Middle East sheiks, and of course, the Germans and recently quite a few rich Russians-they bring delightful children,polite little boys, shy teenagers who ask to be excused when leaving the table, little girls with bows in the hair,elegant wives and husbands who talk to the waiters with respect and smile and leave the largest tips.So,as the clientele is varied, the food is varied. At breakfast the tables are laden with food hot, food cold and food in between,everything freshly prepared.The pastry is often brought from the oven to the table and disappears as fast as it appears.In Nitra I had the pleasure to be taken to a small eaterie just by a Jewish synagogue.For just under a fiver you get a two course meal to equal the best restaurants in London.My firm favourite you already know - a schnitzel with potato salad. Love,love,love it.I used to think you get the best schnitzel in Vienna, not now!So whenever I am in Nitra I have lunch there every day. For all the multitude of excellent Indian restaurants in London,the best Indian meal I had ever had was in Torremolinos,Spain, many years ago,the restaurant may not even exist now.Jamie Oliver had opened a deli shop/restaurant in Notting Hill.I buy there a tuna sandwich no-one else makes better.Ottolenghi, again in Notting Hill, has cheese -cakes to die for.Lately just at week-ends they prepare a concoction of pastry,jam and meringue on top. You have not lived until you have tried this utterly divine masterpiece. Yotam Ottolenghi, you are a genius.

Friday, 11 December 2015.

I am hop skip and jump on the way to not only not putting any weight on,but also to losing some.How much I have lost I will know on my return home.The scales in the gym are accurate only when the ship is stationary.I have been eating less and working out more.Two-three days I worked out in the mornings and in the evenings,but this was a mistake.If your body is not used to exercise, it is best to start slowly.So now I get my daily dozen most evenings.To my regret I have been using the gym on the ships the last year only,thinking I would be making an idiot of myself when around beautifully toned bodies.But no body is perfect.Slowly,slowly my aching muscles have become accustomed to running,pulling,lifting.I still do not know what machines I work out on, are called,but I now know how to use them and use most of them.I am concentrating on tightening my stomach muscles.Slowly,slowly I am beginning to see results.If I can advise any-one, whatever the age-start small, watch the professionals,listen and learn, adapt more difficult exercises to your own capabilities and gradually you will surprise yourself how well you are doing.I do not like group exercise classes,I am too independent for that,I simply do not like dancing to any-one's tune.But I have watched, listened and learnt and now have my own simple but effective routine.I start with a ball [the ship has three different sizes,I prefer the smallest, so that my fingers can touch the floor when the ship rocks and believe me,it can rock,it can!]So I do exercises on the ball and with the ball, then floor exercises,stretching,then lifting and pulling and pushing,and then I run.It has been recommended by various medical bodies to walk fast enough so that you cant talk anymore but can still sing,Or is it the other way round? Well, I do walk very fast.I do not run.Ever. I walk,not run,to protect my knees and also because I have not yet found a decent sports bra,that would give me a good support.I work out for over an hour.Hence the loss of weight.My sister-in-law is going to be given lots of underwear and masses of shorts, trousers and tops!So this worst ever cruise I have ever been on, has had some silver lining.And it is the way life usually turns out to be-that in something bad something good can be found.But there is not much good in the GB being battered by gales.My heart goes out to those, who have lost all their possessions.You work hard all your life,save hard,do your utmost to provide for your family, and then one stroke of nature and you lose a lot, if not everything.It is when I read about the misfortune of others, that I realize how very, very fortunate I am.The Mail is organizing a collection to help these unfortunate people,so I can also help,not just commiserate.

There has been a delightful addition to my family.

My nephew"s adorable little boy had been born at the end of May.Long awaited much loved little fighter.And his doting dad has already taught him to swim, to swim,!Yes, the tiny little mite can already swim.And he cannot yet walk.Or talk. But swim he can.And he has the most efficient and caring au pair.The mummy was having a shower when little Mark Spitz started to cry.Moments later the crying stopped.But being a new mum, she showered fast and went into the nursery.A sight to behold had awaited her.A little poodle she had raised from a puppy, was standing on hind legs, licking the baby"s face,wagging its tail happily.The baby smiling contentedly.And this is the way it has been ever since. The little white dog has taken it upon himself to take care of the tiny addition to the family. When he hears him just whimper, he runs to the parents reminding them the baby needs attention.And when neither parent responds immediately, the dog guards the boy,licking his little face, little hands. The mother loves both of them beyond belief,she is the best mum any new-born can have and my nephew is the kindest, most caring husband and father.I love him very,very much. I am a godmother to my other nephew's two sons,Adam and Matthew.I kind of let the new mummy know, in a roundabout way,that I do not expect to be a godmother again,as I did not want her to feel obligated to have me as a godmother,as she may have her own choice from her family.The christening will be next year when I can travel easily as it all has to be planned and booked well in advance and I have too many obligations at the moment to commit myself to any particular date.Next late spring it will be possible,though,so May may be a perfect month.It is also the baby"s birthday and my birthday.Yes, I am a May baby, a Taurus.Stubborn, kind ,giving, caring, love beautiful things, but do not like to be told what to do.Otherwise I am as placid as sea on a calm day, very rarely a bull in a china-shop. So tomorrow I am back home. I shudder to think what has happened in my absence.I do not have any-one to keep an eye on my home when I am away, I do not like the invasion of privacy.I do not like any-one poking their nose into my affairs.I expect at least 60 letters to have to open, I will be very,very busy until the 21st, when I sail on Oceana.So now I can say good-bye Queen Elizabeth. Bonallie,may god look after you and those who sail on you.

17 December 2015.

It seems as if I have never been away.Could barely open the front door - a pile of letters and all sorts of rubbish was blocking it.Have not yet filed any of it, well, havent filed anything the past two months at least, even though have replied to all that needed answering, bills paid and had the most important letter of all - from the Inland Revenue-the amount I am due to pay in tax by the end of January.It is always such a relief when I know all is well. There cannot be many people who do as good a job when doing the return as I do,every single penny accounted for,everything checked and double checked.Yes, I do my own tax returns.But the tax people calculate the amount I owe in tax.Monday spent four hours cleaning the front of the house - sweeping the last leaves, four bags filled, washing the steps, the front walls.It is a large double fronted building and I like to have the cleanest front in the street.Yesterday spent another two hours in the garden,little bit more work tomorrow and I can leave again on 21st knowing all is well.And clean. And tidy.What about the man I call Adam,or is it Michael, you may ask.Had absolutely no time to even think about him let alone pursue him!So good-bye romance, good-bye sex, am not going to have you in a hurry! But then what you don't have, you don't miss. And as I have been celibate for donkey's years...Is this woman obsessed by sex, you may be asking.No, but was hoping for some as the stars favour it so and it is Christmas and it would be wonderful to have a bit of romance in my life at long last.

There was a holey man in the gym yesterday.

He took off his sneakers.He had a great big gaping hole in his right sock.How can a woman send her husband into the world wearing a holey sock? A holey sock, for cry now loud. This day and age when you can pick up a pair for next to nothing. My bag was where he was standing, when I went to pick it up,the stench from his smelly feet overpowered me. Several days ago. a couple came to use the treadmills ,he stood to the left of me,the unpleasant smell of unwashed sweaty top was nothing to the nauseatingly reeking armpits she uncovered standing to the right of me. What have I done to deserve this? Don't these people have noses? Don't they shower,wash clothes. After five minutes I was feeling so sick,I left. 80 % of men on this ship need a decent haircut,70% of men need a decent shave,60% need a bath.I think 50% of cruisers do not fit inside the small shower cubicles, because they are too fat. Yet the bigger they are, the more food they pile up on the plates. Some do go to the gym, only God knows why, because their effort to lose weight is minimal. In the evenings the smell of sweat in the gym is appalling,ventilation non-existent,so the same stale unpleasant air is circulated. The people who had designed the gym should be strung up,they certainly have no idea what a gym needs. Yet on channel 22 we get constant self-praise about how wonderful the Queen Elizabeth is. Don't they ever listen to a feedback? In the Garden lounge this morning there were two men sitting at a nearby table. One of them  pulled  a ball of wool and knitting needles from a bag. Only then did I realize, that he was a she. Why do women dress like men? They match them even with short back and sides,not just big pot bellies, clumpy shoes and ill fitted trousers. How can a man take pride in a partner who looks like a mini me?... MAN IS AS OLD AS HE FEELS, WOMAN IS AS OLD AS SHE LOOKS.

Why cant Sheila wait to get off the ship?

She is so disenchanted with the fellow travelers,she says she has not seen so many ill-mannered people on a ship before, she thinks the standards are slipping badly.According to her in the past only the well educated, cultured people could afford to cruise on Cunard,nowadays in order to fill the cabins these are often offered at knock down prices to all and sundry.She says there are far too many benefit claimants on the ships. I don't know about that.I think it is wonderful that these days people from all walks of life can cruise.We both agreed the standard of service and the hygiene have gone down considerably on the Queen Elizabeth..She is a diamond traveler,this means she has spent more than 500 nights cruising,yes,almost two years!She knows what she is talking about.She has experienced it all - the best and the worst.I am only a platinum Cunarder,a level below diamond.But I have seen enough to make a fair and informed judgement.This is the very first time I do not dine in the evenings in the main dining room.Therefore this cruise for me lacks certain glamour,magic,glitz.I love dressing up in the evenings,being fussed over by the waiters, then going to the theatre. To date on every single cruise an effort had been made to find me a small table,except here. Tables are often not used, because as on every cruise, people do not realize, how elegantly travelers dress up to dine in a restaurant, many people have no idea what formal evening means,they are too ignorant, according to Sheila.And instead of offering one of those unused tables to me,they are left empty.Yesterday evening in the Garden lounge I sat down to listen to a jazz group.For 45 minutes no waiter had asked me if I wanted a drink.Absolutely unacceptable.And it is not just the poor service on the ship that is so apparent to seasoned Cunarders,the quality of food is not there either.Today at lunch there was mahi mahi fish served with some black beans and rice,polenta and vegetables.All quite awful.Never will I set a foot on the Queen Elizabeth again as long as I live,in this I agree with Sheila.I have 2 admirers, God help me.I knew I was in trouble when at 7 one morning in the gym he came to use the treadmill next to me,even though I was the only one there!The second man flexing his muscles kept giving me side glances last night in the theatre just before and after the performance of a comedian Jeff Stevenson,who by the way,was quite marvelous and I am looking forward to his second show.I pretended not to see the smiles of this middle aged Lothario. They are both quite harmless and I hope they will leave me alone for the rest of the cruise.The man I found quite obnoxious, was the one who was very obviously giving me the common look the second evening in the gym.The first evening he was pursuing a tall blonde who, as it turned out,was travelling with another man,I see them exercising together regularly.So I was his second choice.Thanks, but no thanks.I do not play a second fiddle to any-one. Too much pride, I know.But that's me and I am not going to apologize for it.

Yesterday was the best day of the whole cruise weatherwise.

Hardly any wind,temperature 29,yet on the top of the ship it seemed more like 25,comfortable, pleasant.Lying on the Lido terrace for 6 hours.With a little break for lunch.Lunch.Wanted to be the first in line, thinking everything that should be hot will be hot.No.Roast veal. Nice,not quite succulent,but not dry either.Sloppy warm roast potatoes.How much effort does it take to cook potatoes in the oven so that they come out hot and crispy? Mixed vegetables-lukewarm.Only fricassee of mushrooms and leeks was steaming.Had a second helping.Then, as I was leaving the Lido,I caught sight of a large bloomer being sliced.Lubly jubly.Had it once before.Divine.Could I resist? No.Two slices,please.Cheese-Wenslydale,Jarlsberg,Brie,some cut red onion, two slices of cucumber,a bit of tomato. Was tempted with piccalilli.Never eat it,don't know what possessed me now.Spoilt the clean,simple taste of an otherwise perfect sandwich.Black coffee. Had nothing whatsoever for the rest of the day until 10.30 ,when I returned from the theatre and four tiny pieces of chocolate awaited me.The night before last, the room attendant, my ever so efficient Dindo, one of the best attendants I was lucky enough to have,forgot to,leave me 2, so last night I got 4.So that was a perfect end to a perfect day.The show in the theatre was entertaining, the Cunard dancers danced their little legs off, the singers sang their little hearts out, all efficient,workmanlike.The previous evening trio Virtuosity performed.Sack the stylist, please!Never Have I sen any-one wearing on stage a gormless formless mess like those three had on.But I wont go into it, as there is nothing I can do about the matter.The voices were lovely, but the choice of songs not so,too much Andrew Lloyd, and Nosssum Dorma should never be sung by a woman. When they asked who was in love,the man sitting next to me didn't shout out.His hands firmly clasped in his lap,stony faced he kept staring at the stage. With a side glance I could see his partner's hand rest on his thigh.He didn't respond.I was already seated when they came,he quipped to all of us-we will just slip through, we are slim, well, I am anyway.What kind of a man would say that?They didn't communicate during the 45 minutes of the performance,he didn't touch her hand in response. What was it that she had done or said, that could not be forgiven?As the song goes-sticks and stones can break your bones,but words can break your heart.Was the cruise an effort to make the unworkable work?To see if the unforgivable could be forgiven? This was not forgiving,this was not forgetting.I usually remain seated until every-one has left the theatre,and did so now,too.As they stood up and slipped by me I saw a plain face in plain clothes,no smile,no excuse me, no thank you.She couldn't have been bigger than size 14,trousers certainly 12,sitting neatly on her hips,lovely figure. Not slim? You utter fool,any man would be proud to have that figure by his side. But sad eyes,face that was not used to laughing. Why do you stay with this obnoxious monster? Day by day he is chipping at your confidence and now you must feel no-one would ever want you. Pack your bags, or his.

Silver Cloud.The Good,The Bad,and The Ugly..

A lovely,unobtrusive state- room attendant kept it immaculate.There was my own butler to spoil me.All I really wanted was fresh orange juice and even that not every day,plenty of water with ice, and peaunuts.The best ever.Freshly roasted by the chef.The dining room,was gloomy,dull.The drinks on the terraces came in an unlimited supply(the price was inclusive of all food and beverage,this may sound a good deal, but I myself,as a teetotaler, did not really benefit]. An excellent toasted tuna sandwich brought to me on demand while being resplendent on the most comfortable deck chair ever,one could easily take an afternoon nap on it and would wake up none the worse for the wear. The gym is small but excellent and the instructor,Serbian or Croatian,if I remember correctly,had more diplomas than the British foreign minister, and the body of Adonis. One fellow cruiser,the wife of a partner in a firm of solicitors,took one look at his perfectly formed buttocks and was ready to run away with him!...Joke,joke,joke!..Rarely have I seen such a well matched and devoted couple,she a perfect partner's wife, as he so proudly told me.She confident,delightful, a good and proper gossip,as a gossip should be,never malicious yet ready to poke nose into anything and any-one,and by golly,she did! We joked together, laughed together,she soon caught on to my sense of humour [never spiteful,often self-deprecating,not afraid to laugh at myself].The most wonderful thing about her was,that she never even for a moment thought I was after her husband. There were identical pictures on the opposing sides of the corridor just by the entrance to the dining room.Identical, for goodness sake.The elegance, the Italian flair and panache nowhere to be seen.So how does the 6 star accreditation figures? At best I would give it 4.Too much ado about very little. Would I sail on the Cloud again? Like a shot!If the cruise was advertised just before departure at a knock down price,I would mot hesitate. You must think now there is a turncoat.No, I stand by everything I have said.It is for the most wonderful destinations, that I would sail on the Cloud again,for Warnemunde, a delightful,immaculately kept German little town,full of charm, flowers and lovely shops where real bargains can be had.I had purchased a divine summer dress and a scarf for next to nothing and have discovered a shop where most of the shoes are to die for.Then there is Stockholm. This was my second visit. The first time on a cruise with Celebrity Eclipse,the city had cast a magic spell on me.I was enchanted.Everything breathed prosperity, abundance. No rough sleepers in doorways,no beggars with their drug-induced stupor,no illegal immigrants littering the streets.Well, this time I didn't take a tour of the city,I walked and saw Stockholm warts and all.And can't wait to go back.Then there was Amsterdam.I walked and walked and got lost,then walked some more and got lost again. Tallin.Lovely little Tallin,immaculately restored without any EU handouts.Shops full of beautifully made linen clothes,excellent value.St.Petersburg.Hot,crowded,in a class of its own.Sat down in a five star Grand hotel I think it is called,to a cup of latte. Divine little pastries,And the service at its very best-with courtesy,with smile.In Oslo.I picked up a pink blouse I am wearing at the moment.Massively expensive, as everything in Scandinavia is,their standard of living so much higher than anywhere in Europe.I could not resist a linen grey top either,a quirky little number with different coloured buttons and loops,typical me.So yes, if this cruise was advertised at a knocked down price,I would not hesitate.