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.