31/03/2016 Hurrah,The Library opened this evening!

There are 2 things I look forward to on a ship-sunbathing in the nude on the balcony and sitting in the library surrounded by dictionaries! Now, on this particular cruise sunbathing in the altogether will be limited to the short span of time the sun will actually shine on me, as the floor above overhangs over my cabin.This I was fully aware of when booking the cruise. What I was not expecting was the books and dictionaries being off limits. Norovirus is blamed for it,the spread of it by unwashed hands and by golly the ship, any and every ship,is full of those.So the first few days have been very disappointing from this respect.And to cap it all, the TV system on Ventura is abominable."Loading" is slow,slow,slow.The remote control is temperamental-now it works,now it does not.I have moments I am sorely tempted to chuck it out of the window,with the TV set to follow! Ventura, your system needs upgrading and bringing into he 21st century. And to add insult to injury-my account was frozen on Monday,I was denied access even to the free films on TV, and all because the ship was too slow to credit my account with £250 of "on board credit",this is money given to me, a frequent traveller, by The P & O as a kind of reward for booking the cruise. I had also added £40 cash into the account and started to use it-sea sickness tables, 250 minutes of internet time, etc., then STOP. The whole experience was very unpleasant.

Coffee.

You either love it,or hate it.But you cannot be indifferent to a really strong smelling aromatic cup of coffee.I would walk a mile for it and have done so in the past,yes, a mile. And if it is not to my liking I wont drink it.I am quite happy to be a week, or two,even longer, without coffee, if it does not come up to my expectations.And unfortunately on ships it often does not.It is either served wishy washy without any oomph, or the milk has the most awful smell and taste.And that makes the coffee unpalatable to me.There is Costa Coffee served on Ventura, ordered some yesterday with an extra shot.And it was good. Not super duper die for a cup of coffee good, but good.Good coffee is as important to me, as civilized neighbours.Yesterday morning a couple said hello.And smiled,both of them. And they knew how to handle a knife and a fork. Why some people consider good manners unimportant? I was born into poverty.My family was amongst the poorest in the village,if not the poorest.But I fell in love with the written word the moment I could read.And books had opened up a new world to me and offered life I never knew existed, And when I went into the big world I wanted to be as good, if not better, than any-one else,best among equals. You observe and learn. And I did. Last night a couple with about a 5 year old girl were sitting close to me. He was eating like a pig,smacking his lips,licking the knife,talking with his mouth-full.She followed him full speed.I do not recall seeing an uglier picture in a restaurant for a long time.The little girl knew no different, she should, at 5, be able to handle a knife and a fork correctly,she did not. Head-phones on at the dinner table in a four star restaurant! Who teaches their child, that this is acceptable? She will grow up to be their disgusting mini me. It takes so little to be well behaved and civilized,yet it takes so much.

Quelle surprise!

When I was shown to table 18 in the Saffron restaurant yesterday morning at breakfast,a waiter approached me and beaming said to me-good morning,madame,it is nice to see you again.Do you like Azura better than Ventura? Having absolutely no idea who he was other than realizing he had obviously waited on me on Azura,I smiled back and said - how kind of you to remember me. You are the kind person,he responded,you gave me a bottle of perfume,it was the first time any-one had ever given me a present on a ship and I will always remember you. I was touched. He remembered me,I did not remember him. I do recall buying a box of after-shave lotions and handing them out to some waiters who had served me the most,but I wouldn't remember their faces even if my life depended on it. Azura is much nicer,Ventura needs to be loved more,there is nothing spectacular about her,nothing that makes you say wow,I said. He and his co-worker agreed. When freedom-dining {this means dining at the time one wants} one is attended to by different waiters,rarely by he same team.Table 18 is in the corner by the window,it is a much sought after position and bribes are often offered to head waiters for this and similar tables.But as I dine alone,it is very unlikely I would ever be seated at such a prestigious spot in the evening,unless I make friends with the staff allocating them-they stand by the door to the restaurant and work out the seating on computers.On The Queen Victoria I was treated superbly,on Oceana equally well.On The Queen Elizabeth abominably.On Ventura the jury is still out. But,of course,this refers only to freedom dining,many ships offer set seating times-at 6 the first lot of passengers come to dine, then the tables are prepared for the next avalanche at 8.30. There is no other way of feeding the near enough 1,500 people.So all this musing is just hypothetical,[ my old friend from Azura works in the Saffron restaurant where set seatings are offered and I prefer the freedom dining at the Cinnamon restaurant].Breakfast with the waiter service is in the Saffron restaurant.To get a nice table when freedom dining is a question of luck,but in reality there are no good or bad tables,it is just a matter of preference. The breakfast was,as the morning before, a pleasurable affair.orange juice,grapefruit and orange segments,porridge,black coffee.In certain maters I am a creature of habit,and as far as food is concerned I stick to what I like and know is good.You cannot spoil fruit or porridge and I love both.Coffee? Well.I am a big fuss pot about a pot of coffee.It has to taste strong,be piping hot and the milk must complement the black brew,,not add strange smell to it,as some milk can.

27 March,2016,Ventura.

That was the night that was.Wind of 62 knots was predicted,{I reckon by the Michael Fish school of broadcast},98 knots we sailed through.Some clever dicks on the ship have suggested to the captain, that we would have been better off remaining docked in Southampton.I say even if it was true,what would have been the fun in that!The captain said staying put would have left us totally exposed to the hurricane, with no leave to protect the ship,on the open seas an action was taken "to go with the flow" so to speak,to adjust the ride to the wind.We did keel over,we sailed over some pot holes,but the worst is behind us and even though at dinner I could clearly feel leaning to one side,in general the waves are at least 3 m smaller,reaching 5 m,not 8-9 as predicted. Have been up since 3.30,the noise of the rattling hangers bashing against each other and against the wooden wall,woke me.All bits and pieces were swept from the table onto the adjacent bedside table.And my wrist was hurting.By golly it was unbearably painful.I strained it two-three weeks ago,I don't even remember where and how.It was excruciatingly painful for several days but slowly I nursed it to life, only to strain it again when I moved my old TV{and then discovered the TV wasn't working,unless I had done it in while pushing it UP a flight of stairs, step by step!} But that is enough about my hard luck. THE SHIP. Well, so far so disappointing. The ship is the ugliest ship I have ever been on.Gormless,charmless.The layout uninspiring,in need of updating and complete refurbishment.The library and the internet cafe where I am writing this, are equally disappointing.And to cap it all,we cannot take out any books"due to increased sanitation levels." Not a good start. THE FOOD. So far so so.Breakfast-orange juice, segments of orange and grapefruit.porridge.Toast-cold. Coffee-undrinkable.Service-sloow.Lunch-five bean soup,good.Joked with the waiter if he was sure it was FIVE beans,I had counted SIX.He laughed out loud. The couple at the next table looked at me puzzled.What is it about the British.No sense of humour.No table manners either.Will I never learn?Always being civil to every-one, often getting just blank stares in return.The ship is full people who are neither cultured nor educated to know, that when you are seated in a restaurant,it is good manners to acknowledge your neighbours.So few handle a fork and a knife properly.The pudding for lunch was lovely but cannot for the life of me remember what it was,yes,I can,it was a treacle pudding,do not remember ever having one before.Served with custard,it warmed the cockles of my heart.Then to bed.Yes, it was the best place to be after the mother of all nights and the wrist still painful.I fell asleep the moment my head hit the pillow and was awakened only when the maintenance staff knocked on the door wanting to change the toilet seat.Dinner at six was a pleasant affair.Smoked salmon with an absolutely delicious potato salad for starters,would have been happy to have the salad alone as the main meal with some brown bread.As a main dish there was lobster,just as I like it-baked with a crust on a bed of potatoes.Delicious,but the portion too small.I know,lobster is expensive,but...Pear tarte tatin to finish, hot, but pastry too hard,it lacked finesse.Cranberry tea.The harsh elements are still having fun, playing with us as if the ship was a child's toy. So off to bed I go.Or should I pop up to see if there is something nice in the self-service restaurant on the 15th floor?A cake,perhaps,or some fruit.I might just do that.

Yellowstone.

When there is a programme on TV about the first national park in the world,Yellowstone, I down the tools, so to speak.I love programmes about nature and this three parter is high up amongst the best. As bad luck would have it, I only came across the prog at the tail end of it,and of course, feet up, a cup of tea and a bag of pistachios. However busy ,I am never too busy for Yellowstone. And today I am sooo busy.Clothes to pick out and pack. Everything else has been pretty much taken care of,have a long list of dos and don'ts to double check so that I omit nothing.It is raining hard and I cannot wait for tomorrow. So good-bye my little Toshiba friend,I am not taking you with me.

Easter, 2016.

Several days ago I met the daughter of my neighbour,being collected from school.[The same school, by the way, Prince William and Prince Harry had attended when they lived in Kensington Palace.] She had enormous bonnet on her head with a bird the size of an elephant.I was transfixed.Trying hard no to burst out laughing, I said- hello,sweetheart,you look beautiful.I like the hat, lovely. It is awful, she replied, I am so embarrassed to have it on my head.I hate the big bird. Even if the bird was twice as big, you would look gorgeous. You don't think I look stupid,she asked as only the young and the innocent can. Good heavens,you look adorable. And your friend,too. Her friend's hat had no bird, just a large quantity of multicoloured little eggs, attached around the rim.The helmet, too big for the small head,came down to her ears, little round glasses peeping out.She was constantly pushing the glasses back above her nose, quite unsuccessfully, as the hat was weighing them down. Poor little mite,the glasses were even uglier than the bonnet.She was not pretty,rather plain in fact,but obviously from a well to do family, so why on earth would her parents let her out into the world with that on her face. She will have enough to contend with growing up. No-one can be more cruel to a child than another child and nothing hurts more than than the mocking and laughter of one's peers.I know how it feels,I have been there. My little god-son, who was 7 in March, has to wear glasses.His parents explained to him why,[he is a highly intelligent little boy, top of the class in all subjects] and was allowed to choose the frame.He chose a designer frame, the most expensive in the shop.His parents almost had a heart attack, but a promise is a promise is a promise.He has his father's expensive taste.Adam has neither lost the glasses, nor damaged them in the year he has been wearing them.They suit him to a tee and he looks very cute.

24/03/2016 Mr Cameron is taking his family for Easter to Lanzarote.

Again.The first time he went I asked myself-who on earth would want to go to Lanzarote on holiday voluntarily and pay for the privilege? Now I am asking myself-am I missing something? True,it has ten five star hotels.And the weather.But the scenery!Barren,monotonous. It has one advantage-no prying eyes or long lenses of the paparazzis hiding in the bushes as there are no bushes to hide in. And, of course, away from the hassle and bustle the family can spend some quality time together.They are a nice family and deserve this.I think it is abominable that Mr Cameron can do no right as far as the press is concerned.Leave them alone. History will judge him as a Prime Minister.Do not judge him as a family man and do not intrude into his family life. The privacy laws in Great Britain leave a lot to be desired. I have been to Lanzarote several times.True I have bought there the most adorable shirts for my little god-sons and some run of the mill jewellery. And this time the island is again on ship's agenda.Only I am not getting off the ship.I am staying put.If the sun shines on my side,will be lying in the altogether on the balcony.If it does not, will be lying in my swimming costume on the Riviera deck. Having Ventura almost to myself. There is nothing whatsoever left on the island to tempt me to go to see. Or buy.There is not a decent coffee shop,there is not a decent home made cake. How many what?-asked a waitress when I queried how many shots of coffee goes into their latte,it looked so anemic,utterly unappealing.I knew then it was not my day to indulge. Of course,there is something on the island that must be Mr Cameron's cup of tea.But what on earth can it be? So have a lovely holiday Prime Minister, the time spent with your family must be so precious as there is so very little of it.

My goodness,isnt this wonderful,

have just worked out how to click from my blog to my ordinary e-mail address and vice versa!I am overjoyed,ecstatic.Hoorah,hoorah,hoorah! I am learning!

"Been done,back to ME former glory."

I know I know,this is a mile from the Queen's English, just joking.The weather is so miserable,did all that needed to be done in the morning,paid the final bill,any letter writing is on the agenda for tomorrow afternoon.After an organic rump steak,brown bread roll and some pickled cucumbers [not my favourite,I hasten to add, the best ever are Marks & Spencer's own,but I keep forgetting to pick them up from the local mini store when available,and this is not often,so bought something unfamiliar ]for lunch, I decided to apply the colour remove and yes, after 60 minutes it did work its magic and I now look more like my old self.And from now on am sticking to my tried and tested hair dye. It is raining.The builders next door have downed their tools and I have peace and quiet I so treasure. I can't wait to be looked after,taken care of, to sit in the library and list through the most wonderful dictionaries of the English language.You can do it at home,surely, I can hear you say. Of course I can,and I do. But there is something quite magical about the vast expanse of water you see through the windows yet in the middle of the ocean have the world at your fingertips just by the push of a button, by a click of a mouse. Oh, the wonder of the internet!

Are you sure you have read the instructions,

asked my sister, hitting the nail on the head, trying hard not to burst out laughing... not doing something you should have done or doing what you shouldn't,it wouldn't surprise me, as you never read any instructions!... What is the point in trying to deny the undeniable. As a rule I do not read instructions,I just kind of get down to it and get on with it. Until things go wrong and I am forced to reassess my approach. Too late for that now, so have done the second best thing-have applied a hair colour remover  [had bought three for the price of two,no less,in readiness for an emergency like this]. A stroke of luck, having found the lotion on the shelf of my favourite chemist BOOTS.The chemist has now been taken over by an American chain called...cant remember, starting with W. There was a massive branch of W near the Hilton hotel in The Times Square, when I was in the Big Apple for the first time.I brought home from there the most wonderful organic blueberry eye cream and day cream.I do not know what difference it made to my skin,but it smelled divine and was a dream to use.When I stopped over in NY on my way to the Caribbean in November 2014, the first thing I did was to try and find a branch of W,but there wasn't any in the hotel's vicinity and I had no time to look around as I had stayed overnight only. So when I had learnt the W took over BOOTS,I was overjoyed, hoping some American cosmetics,etc would be sold here,too.Some brands are, but it looks very unlikely I will be able to get these particular creams in London.         But why did I digress?

My goodness,have aged 10 years in an hour!

How have I managed to do that? By dyeing my hair mid brown.Can't be, you say.Dondy diddy doo, I say. Two or so months ago I finally came across a lotion that strips off old colour. Years back it was readily available, but then with various health scares and EU regulations, the magic formula had disappeared from the shelves,and,truth be told,I also stopped looking. Last January,hey presto,there it was again in my local chemist. I used it as instructed to get rid of old dye, that had accumulated on my hair over the years,it did the trick and my hair was for a while as nature intended, but a month or so later I got tempted again and dyed the hair with a healthier dye, mid brown, with flickering lighter shades, the colour perfection itself,the hair looked gloriously shiny. I felt young and sexy and just altogether wonderful and alluring. This morning, in readiness for Ventura I thought I use the magic dye again,but when the towel came off I kept looking at myself in the mirror,is this really me? The same shine and gloss,but the hair is so dark. Shall I leave it as is, or shall I dye it again? Well, this is not the end of the world.I may not look like old me,but it certainly is me in all my be it darker glory.So for a month I shall be walking about as if I were my older sister.By the way,my older sister does not dye her hair, she does not wear any make-up,does not use a lipstick or perfume. Nothing. She is smart,chic,elegant,her style is impeccable be it when dressing herself or furnishing her home. She has her hair cut in any old barber shop she comes across and looks a million dollars, and when she puts on her finery, there is no-one to beat her,her posture is that of a woman twenty years younger,her beautiful die for legs look good in wellingtons,but in high heels...oh la la! She does nothing to enhance her beauty. If she did help the nature just a little, she would be a head-turner with no-one to equal her.My younger sister, now, she is the total opposite. One day I will tell you more about her.But now I am starving and am off to get some fresh rolls and orange juice from Waitrose and my favourite cheese, some fruit and perhaps a lovely organic steak from Marks.

Robert Maxwell

is he name of the media baron, who fell off his yacht and drowned after it came to light, that he had squandered his employers'millions they had put into the pension fund,some for as long as 20-30 years.You work for a quarter of a century and save and scrimp, so that you retirement would be comfortable only to have it all snatched from you by a greedy crook.Did he fall or was he pushed? I only remembered his name yesterday when reading about his daughter Ghislaine and her relationship with the sex offender Jeffrey Epstein. The matter has now been aired in Courts for at least two years, prince Andrew was also implicated,but he had"strenuously denied the allegations". He would,wouldn't he.

Stella Australis

seems to be a lovely, sturdy little ship, ready for anything.I accidentally came across a travel program while browsing and was enchanted with her adventures around The Cape Horn and The Drake's passage,the most treacherous stretch of water on earth. Oh,my itchy feet, I would run, if I didn't have to walk and bind my time until I am totally free to spread my wings! For now, whilst my free time is limited,I love sailing into the sun. But one day, one day all my dreams will come true and I will circumnavigate the Horn and glory up the Panama Canal. And how I cannot wait to enjoy the seven night sail to New York and back again,spending at least 3 weeks there and walk, walk, walk everywhere and have the most wonderful juicy fillet stakes and the real american style on the bone schnitzels in the most pleasant restaurant facing the Rockefeller Centre. It really was love at first bite. New York was such a wonderful surprise,a revelation.For so long and so needlessly I feared going there. All that negative publicity about the dangers on the underground, the murders on the streets ...my goodness. We always fear the unknown. And so often without any rhyme or reason. One day, one super duper glorious day I will go back!

Hoorah,Ventura,

here I come!Yes,have done it,have booked 12 night cruise to Canary Islands,a balcony cabin with uninterrupted view.Whether it will be overlooked from above, have decided is immaterial.I love sunbathing in the nude, but many times for comfort and to get the most out of the sun, I had actually pushed the deck-chair inside the stateroom with jut my legs sticking out! And that is exactly what I intend to do now. I just could not stay at home over Easter,my paperwork is three quaters sorted,the rest should be ship shaped and Bristol fashioned by Sunday when we sail. I may even have time to do some work in the garden, pick up fallen twigs and start on the weeds,there are plenty of them already. The garden is massive, 7 meters wide, about 25 meters long, it is a never ending work of love. Packing? Easy peasy. There was another joyful film on TV tonight The SHEEPMAN (1958) with Glenn Ford and Shirley MacLaine,both very likeable. It is going to be a lot of fun enjoying my new TV.I still chuckle when I think about Mae West and remember my probably most favourite saying of hers- it is not the men in my life that matter,it is the life in my men. I do not think I mentioned it earlier,it is also from the film I'AM NO ANGEL.

21/03/2016 Ventura,Ventura,Ventura,

I would so much like to sail on you this Sunday for 12 nights to Canary Islands,but there is not a state-room with a balcony with unobstructed view and not overlooked by upper cabins.I only cruise if I can sunbathe naked,it is the most wonderful,liberating feeling in the world. So here I am considering my options. Shall I stay at home over Easter,shall I go to Bath,or Winchester,perhaps,to see how people live in Great Britain's best towns as voted by the locals, I have not been to either.Shall I try P&O again,or,or, shall I ring Thermia Palace to see what the availability is. How I would love to go back! Crazy, I know,so soon after my last visit. But once you have tried it...

I'M NO ANGEL,

is a film dating back to 1933, starring Mae West.Who Mae was, most of you reading this, would not know,she lived well before your time and very likely before your parents'time. I first learnt about Hollywood when I came to England and fell in love line ,hook and sinker with all that it entailed. In this film Mae plays a night-club singer,well,more a swinger,but who is quibbling,called Tira. The men fall all over her and rightly so, she is an adorable creature, not beautiful,not even pretty, in my opinion,cannot act, cannot dance, maybe cannot even sing, with someone else dubbing her in the film. But can she walk! My goodness,can she! Today her swagger would be insured for a million dollars. I remember seeing the film years and years and years ago, but only now do I appreciate the charm,the wit. In various dictionaries of the English language [the ships have them all and I love just browsing through,looking for nothing in particular] you will find under her name amusing anecdotes. And the best ones are in this film:Beulah,peel me a grape, she says to her maid. I am quick in a slow way, she tells someone else. When I am good, I am very good,when I am bad, I am better, she tells,I think,Jack Clayton, played by Carry Grant of all people,looking so very young, probably his first major role. And when Beulah says - you are a one man woman, she responds - one man at a time. It is not the wit in the films that makes her so appealing, this all had been written for her by others, I presume, it is the way she says it. But she was quite priceless in real life,too.One of the first actresses, if not the very first, to realize the value of dairies. Keep a diary,one day it keeps you, she once quipped. How very true. Come up, and see me sometime-is one of her most repeated quotes. Mae had brought so much joy to people's lives when times where hard in the thirties. And now to me,too.

NCIS.

What did I watch before NCIS ? Inspector Morse, Midsomer murders with John Nettles and now Endeavour. But for me NCIS is somehow in a class of its own. There is nothing I don't like about it. Story-lines are second to none and very believable in an abstract kind of way,one doesn't know much about international intrigue, yet somehow feels that all is relevant. The characters are sympathetic and pleasingly looking.There was probably my second favourite episode yesterday, when Dr Mallard finds his long lost stepbrother, Nicholas, in a nursing home in the US, being struck by an early stage of Alzheimer's. I had nursed my husband through 8 years of this cruel illness so it was unbearable to watch,but I wanted to see how this excellent series deals with the subject,it is important people understand what having Alzheimer's means,so very few people did when they met my husband. My most favourite of all episodes is the one where Ziva, the Mossad agent, appears, I think, for the last time.She and Tony are kind of saying their good-byes.She tells him - Oh, Tony,you are so... he interjects with one of his usual quips,.... and she continues...loved.....There are moments I find painful to watch and this is one of them. Moments like Jack Nicholson in One flew over the cuckoo's nest having a pillow pressed against his face...I saw the film when it first came out and cannot bear to watch it again. Milos Forman,the Czech director,got an Oscar for it. There is so much grief and sorrow in real life,I do not want to see it on the screen any more.

20/ 03/ 2016

How I wish I was still in Thermia Palace,you never want to leave, but you know you must.
I went for a walk one late afternoon by the river that runs alongside the hotel and on the other side of the river just over the nearest bridge there is a very exclusive block of flats  that wouldn't look out of place in Mayfair,London.There is a large area at the back of the flats, were numerous dustbins for the residents are kept.It is clean and well maintained and I had walked there before.This time, as I turned the corner, I could see a young woman,30 maybe,standing by one of the bins, scouring inside. She lifted her head and looked at me,the look of shame on her face.I continued to walk.And then I understood.A boy,  about 10,was standing just behind the bin.I smiled fleetingly,but my heart was heavy. I ran into the hotel, took some euros from the safe and hurried back.They were not there anymore.
How hard life must be for a mother who has to look through bins.
I can never understand how can tourists haggle in poor countries.

Being kind is not always plain sailing.

Years back there was a woman, who, if scrubbed, would have passed for 45,yet looked good 70. Day after day, come winter or summer, she walked the streets of Notting Hill in smelly clothes and feet wrapped in old rags.Always in a hurry,never looking at any-one,dragging a shopping trolley.
 She always ignored me as she  ignored the world around her  until one day we faced each other at traffic lights.Our eye met, I smiled and handed her £10,trying to be as innocuous as I could . She looked at me fiercely  and hissed - I am not a beggar,I don't want your money.
I am so sorry,I didn't mean to insult you, I said and stood there  rooted to the ground, feeling humiliated and embarrassed, with passers by staring.
For a long time after that I could not bring myself to offer money to any beggar, whether they asked for for it or not.

Money Money Money,its so funny,its a rich man's world,

I have learnt a lot about money from my husband.That the money can be and a lot of the time is, the root of all evil, People crave it,they cheat,lie, kill for it. I have also learnt that once you have earned it, you must look after it. My husband had never ever trusted any-one with our savings and years back, after the newspaper tycoon Robert Maxwell,who had squandered his employees pension on yachts,airplanes,luxury houses for his numerous children,holiday homes and high living along the way,and hundreds of people ended up after years of saving with nothing,my husband completely lost faith in any official body. He would say-if something seems too good to be true,it always is. These words have kept me in good stead and if someone offers me a pipe dream, I politely decline.
 My husband had never passed a beggar without putting his hand in the pocket and handing the poor unfortunate what he could.He never judged any-one,never asked was this person an alcoholic,a drug addict or just someone down on his luck. A down and out was to my husband a person, who at that moment needed a helping hand.The beggars remembered him and he would stop and ask after their health. A sweater would disappear,or a pair of trousers. Oh,they will come to light, Olly would say jokingly,and they did-on the old man sitting on the bench opposite Boots the chemist in Notting Hill!
 Olly, I would say,you and him shop in the same place and have identical taste in clothes.
 Yes, we both have good taste,he would laugh,but you still do not let me shop by myself,saying I come back looking like a scarecrow!

What makes a person rich?

Some time ago a man had asked me - are you rich? Are you stupid?-I almost replied. But I didn't. I smiled sweetly and said-yes I am. He was referring to my bank-balance.I was referring to something completely different.But I didn't elaborate. I let him think I was loaded, the idiot that he was. Who asks a question like that?

Good morning, my lovely little box,

Once I have mastered all your ins and outs,discovered the treasures you are still hiding from me,the magic that is waiting for me when I finally say yes, I know you well, my little friend,you have so much to offer and I want it all,that's when I will feel on the top of my little world. Finally had the time last night to go through the newspapers I have accumulated since my return.Ms Platell,shame on you.How unkind of you comparing the ASOS online fashion empire founder's PA, with whom he had set up home after his divorce,to a Ford Fiesta,when at home he had an Aston Martin. Botox and trout like lips do not make for a happy content home,Ms Platell. And you should know that better than any-one.You have had enhancements that we know of, and I am sure plenty more you have not written about. And where are you now? The mirrors keep you company. No doubt what you see in them makes you happy. But the time will come, when you become a very,very old Ford Fiesta,Ms Platell, and there will not be even a magic mirror to tell you otherwise. That said,I wouldn't worry too much about the PA,give it a year or two and you will not recognize her-hips augmented,hair dyed blond,lips even bigger than Janine's, and when the day comes and Mr Robertson begins to wonder what happened to the homely girl he fell in love with,he will part with another chunk of his fortune. But every-one to his own. And there are more important things in the world to worry about than the lives of the rich.

Vicki Kirby also known as Vicki McCluskey,

You are the ugly face of Labour in more ways than one.Your weasel-like face is matched by your crooked teeth and black soul.How utterly sickening your blabberings are. Knowing neither you nor your boyfriend Barry Faulkner, I have no doubt, nonetheless, that you are a match made in labour land. You belong together. May you rot in the mire you have created.

Do you have any of these suitable for an idiot?

I asked the sales assistant, pointing around me in the electronics department of John Lewis. What in particular are you looking for,he replied, without batting an eye lid. I explained I just had my very first broadband installed and was in the market for my very first PC,or a notebook. Is there anything on display you like in particular.? Like I did,everything. What was there not to like? What is a chromebook,was my next question. It is google dependent. Well, all I do is google, am writing a blog, want to be able to insert some photos, once I have learnt how, I would like to use twitter and facebook, once someone teachers me how. Chromebook can do all that, the sales assistant said. I walked around,looking, touching, admiring. My goodness, I can have for the very first time in my life one of these wonderful magic boxes. Perfection.Then my eye caught the sight of Lenovo Yoga 700.I was in love.£549.95. The assistant could see I was smitten. He looked worried.What is she thinking, I could read his mind.She knows obviously nothing about notebooks and buying something so expensive...crazy. But I am a savvy shopper. Always have been,always will be. It does not,of course,mean I have not made mistakes in my life.I have and am bound to make many more, but that is life,there is no other way. But I have two canny questions I always ask an assistant when buying a fridge,a washing machine, a TV set,anything major,really,and it is this - what do you yourself have at home. They never expect this and not having time to think up a lie, the answer is always genuine. What would you buy if you were me and had to buy something now,is my second question. I do not recall one instance, when I felt I was being lied to. This is what I have at home, replied the very nice young man,pointing to a large PC on one stand and to the Toshiba chromebook I had admired so much,on another. But the PC is hardly ever used,most of the time I use the chromebook. And I think it would be the best buy for you,too.You can use it at home and also take it with you on your travels to write your blog. And that is how I became a proud owner of this lovely little miracle. What people can do these days is mind blowing, There is a school few minutes walk from my home, where they teach the use of the internet,but it is full time only, am going to pop round to see if a student would be willing to teach me how to become more confident.

Good morning my lovely little Toshiba,good morning world.

Here I am sitting in my dressing gown,clay mask on my face and a glass of hot water with lemon,honey and turmeric by my side.Heaven.Even though looking out of the window the day appears not to have a joy conducive start-it looks dull and grey and miserable. It is not even 7.30 yet. I am away so often, there are times I leave without opening all mail and, of course, on my return many more letters had been dropped through the letter box,sometimes as many as 70, not counting the junk and many of these would remain unopened another number of weeks, I make sure, of course, they are not important and do not demand my immediate attention.If I knew how to DRAG a photo, would show you just what there is by my door on my return after 2 weeks. Absolutely the first thing I do when I come back is wash my hands and water the plants-this is in the summer.In winter I feed the birds.Then I wash my hands again,change, and bring all the post inside and place it on the floor by my big enough for an elephant armchair,I put on some music-Santana,Paolo Nuttini or Dean Martin and a big sort out can begin. One pile the bills, the second heap anything personal, and the rest goes into a third pile.The junk is chucked into a recycling plastic bag. Then I go in the kitchen,make myself a cup of coffee and life as I know it begins. The next day it feels like I had never been away. The wonderful times become just a distant memory and I get the urge to go away soon again. Like now.I wish I could just pack and go, one day, very very soon, it will be possible ,but as yet my commitments are many and I must fulfill my duties. One day when it is all over I will tell you what my life is all about, but for now certain aspects of my existence must remain known to myself only.

Hoorah,have finally been broadbanded. Thank you, Virgin Media.

And not only do I have a 24/7 access to the internet,I have a land-line and more TV stations I can shake a stick at.It was a long time coming,I know. Good two years ago now I wanted Plusnet to connect me. Unreliable,inefficient,made two appointments and they never turned up.To add insult to injury,no-one even bothered to phone and apologize. Getting the deposit back from them was not easy either.I said to myself never again.But months later here I am happy as a sand-girl. The moment Pedro, a lovely,friendly and sensible Portuguese engineer, rang my bell, I knew I was in good hands. He did a perfect job and knowing that he was dealing with a bit of a dumcock, he came back today, just to check all is well.And it is. I picked up this lovely Toshiba chromebook for just under £200 from John Lewis, where they had installed my email and some apps for £20, which I had gladly paid, and I am now learning how to use this adorable little machine. So far so good. I know I have a very long way to go, but I do love writing this blog and it is wonderful to know, that some lovely people read it. Thank you.

Where are my lovely little frankfurters?

They are only tiny tiddlers the size of my little finger, but they do throw a tasty punch! I had fallen in love with them years ago here in the Thermia Palace,steaming hot with a bit of mustard and some fresh bread, they make a super start to the day. For two mornings now, they were replaced by much larger ones, and somehow they do not seem so appetising. Tomorrow is my last breakfast in the hotel, so keeping fingers crossed....Today was an absolutely glorious day,blanket sun from morning til night. But could only go out for barely an hour as my treatments were spread out throughout the day - there was the mirror pool,then a full body massage,finally at 4.15 mud pool,all three I absolutely love. And to make the most of each and every treatment, you really must stay in the hotel and rest. And that is what I have done.The TV has,in fact, two Russian channels, I also came across a Hungarian broadcast, a Spanish broadcast,a Czech channel and a Greek one,too. I like the Russian programmes the most. Yoga, lively discussions,and, unfortunately,family matters aired on the box.

What I like about the Thermia Palace TV is, that there are several Russian channels.

Yes,I speak Russian, not quite fluently yet,but am getting there.One day when all my responsibilities and obligations are done and over with, I am going to either Moscow or St Petersburg, or somewhere to Crimea, for a month, to improve my knowledge of this beautiful language,because beautiful it is, melodious,expressive. I love French,too,my comprehension of it is not on par with Russian, but I intend to improve it considerably,too. So much to do and so little time to do it. When on holiday I read a lot of local magazines. There was an article in one of them about a well known actress yesterday, who, after almost 30 years of marriage, divorced in 2013. The ex- husband, a well known media personality,was a womanizer, whose affairs and one night stands had often been publicized. The pain and misery it had caused the wife, must have been immense,she said she had often thought of a divorce, but there were the children. Oh,the children,why are they an excuse,when they can see and understand more, than the adults give them credit for. The actress said she had one regret only-that she had not given him the marching orders much sooner. Now she is slowly rebuilding her confidence and is ready to SPREAD HER WINGS. How I can't wait to spread mine! But back to the Russian TV.On one channel I caught an interesting medical programme. The presenter was around 30, a dark haired elegant,chic, beautiful, articulate, smiling bombshell, English size about 22. Would she be a TV presenter in England? Never!!! Her size would be an obstacle.

Mud pool,

filled 10-30 cm with sulphuric mud and 50-90 cm of thermal water, which springs directly into the pool,is my favourite treatment.It is 5-10 minutes of pure heaven in water heated to 39-40 degrees C.You can have a mud pack in the same mud for 20 minutes,you are wrapped up like a newborn baby, with a cooler on your heart,the attendant comes to wipe your forehead every few minutes,then helpes you into the shower-and by golly you need it, as the mud gets into every nook and cranny! And then you are wrapped again,this time into a sheet on a bed, where you rest for good 15 minutes. What more can a girl ask. Tonight the dining room was half empty,the guests went to a show at a nearby hotel- a Slovak wedding with a wedding feast.I do not go to shows of this kind by myself. The weather has been quite awful since my arrival,today is no exception. It rained quite heavily, when I went into the salt cave in the morning, and since then have been indoors. Love my big TV in the room, but wonder if there is any wisdom in having a large television set - you can so clearly see every defect on a human face,every wrinkle,spot,hair. TV adds 10 pounds,they say. It adds 10 years,I say. On my tiny little thing at home from a distance everybody looks lovely, on this great big thing I look in astonishment at my favourite actors in NCIS,or Mentalist, and think-how you have aged since I saw you last!

03/03/2016 This morning I had a 45 minute salt cave treatment.

Salt cave is an artificial cave built from blocks of sea salt.The cave is enriched with colour therapy and fitted with relaxation music,so the whole process is not only an anti-inflammatory treatment,as the salt is rich in iodine,but it is also a stress and depression fighter.I used to be very sceptical,now I always feel at ease with the whole world when I leave there.I had a beauty treatment this afternoon,a slimming treatment to be precise.I do not believe in them, I have never had one before, no, I tell a lie,I had a body wrap two or so years ago, just before a colonoscopy,when my colon had to be as clear as a whistle for a hospital check-up, even though the hospital did send a  pack of medication to do the job.I, in my infinite wisdom, had decided to go to a well respected clinic the name of which escapes me, to help with the process and there, as a part of colon irrigation, a lovely person had wrapped me up top to bottom in something green, saying it will help get rid of everything. But here, in the spa, I felt for one crazy moment, that the time has come to treat my body with something a little bit extra. The lotions and potions smelled divine, and I am not showering until I absolutely must! I have also had a free welcome drink,I chose something alcoholic. I am teetotal,but love alcohol in chocolate and now and then even a bit of red wine or an innocuous coctail does me the world of good. The breakfast was, as always, a plentiful affair, I also have grapes and something called acidko,a fermented drink very similar to kefir,I could drink a litre a day. It is gloriously healthy and I love the taste. And on my way out of the dining room I sometimes grab a large red apple from the basket by the door,it always looks a picture of health,and invariably tastes just as good.Yesterday had lunch in a classy restaurant next to my favourite boutique - Viennese schnitzel,boiled buttered potatoes and cucumber salad,delicious. Followed by truly excellent coffee. The boutique lady owner had recommended the eaterie. Their coffee is best in tow.They serve home-made cakes  am yet to try .

Dinner at The Thermia Palace

is a splendid affair, there is a choice of four-five main dishes, one of them always vegetarian, and one for those, who count calories.I am neither a vegetarian nor do I count calories. I eat sensibly.I love fruit.I do not like cooked chocolate and a chocolate cake or a pudding must look divine for me to even try.Food is excellent here as is accommodation.The bathroom has a bath-tub with a shower fitting, there is a balcony with a table and two chairs,but, of course, this is not the time, weather-wise,to enjoy it. There is WI-FI, a minibar, telephone,safe,hairdryer,bathrobe,slippers and luxury toiletries-the shampoo gives my hair the most wonderful shine. There is not a single treatment the spa has to offer that I do not enjoy. I have my favourites, of course. I love mud wraps,yes,you are wrapped in mud,you lie in it for 20 minutes,then shower and by golly you need a good going over with water,as the mud gets in bits you never even thought you had! Then into a clean sheet you go and you lie on a bed for as long as you want,really.After that back to your room for a long,long rest. Heaven. Then there is a thermal bubble bath I adore, you are massaged as you are lying completely immersed in water full of goodness, your body will thank you for. This morning I had a group therapeutic exercise,I am hoping to have one more session, so that I can remember the exercises and do them at home. Tomorrow I go to a Salt cave, this benefits breathing and even though as a non-smoker my chest must be perfection itself, I do take advantage of everything The Thermia Palace has to offer.The TV sets have been changed for much bigger ones, since I was here last. Lubbbly jubbly. And talking about the TV. On 14 March I am having a communication system installed at home-TV, even a telephone line ,as this is a must, if I want a broadband,and I want. You do not have a broadband, I can hear you cry in astonishment. No,I don't,I reply with my head hanging down in shame. And it is not for the want of trying! But it is a long story and I wont bother you with it now.

02/03/2016, The Thermia Palace,Piestany,where I am staying

until Saturday 5th March.I wish I could stay at least two more weeks.I never envy anyone anything, except the time they are able to spend just doing nothing. Oh,I do have days like that,of course, but they are very few and far between.I do everything at a trot, never having the chance to really unwind. I am hoping it all will change this year,I am working on it. I have responsibilities and obligations I will be saying goodbye to, and then my wings will spread and I will fly, fly,fly.I love massage and here it is done by the best. I prefer men,they have large hands and more strength. There have been times, when a woman was good, but it was because she understood the human body, having trained as a physiotherapist,the best ever on one of The Cunard ships when Tesunga,if I remember the name well,of Serbian or Croatian origin, worked her magic on me, I felt in 7th heaven. There was once a young Canadian in a Kensington High St hotel by the Kensington Palace,a tiny slip of a girl,when I looked at her my heart sank. How deceiving the looks can be! She was as strong as an ox and the going over she gave me...but that is how I like it. And in The Thermia Palace that is how I get it. This is a wonderful hotel for a couple who want to rekindle their ardour.I do not mean a couple whose marriage is on the brink of collapse and they decide to take a romantic holiday, thinking it would do the trick and make everything right again. It does not work, you take all your problems with you,they stay with you throughout and you take them home again-the same arguments, quarrels, jealousy or indifference. When love is dying you should try to rekindle it in familiar circumstances, where you are the king or the queen,where everything you want and need is at your fingertips, and you have all the ammunition at your disposal,you do not want the pressure of new unfamiliar surroundings.delayed flights, hours of travelling. You come to The Thermia Palace with someone you love and you want to love even more. After the three massages I have had my body is pliable,soft, skin silky smooth,oh so touchable and kissable. In the five night stay called Taste of Piestany,eight treatments,breakfast and dinner are included. And talking about dinner-it is time for me to go now and indulge.