To the 72 countries I have visited to date

I can now add one more, St.Vincent.

The master chef of all things Oriental is truly first class.

A dish after a dish is excellent and I order what I know he is going to cook be it a Thai chicken soup with coconut or a crab and prawn cake.And the desserts!  What he can do with matcha!My waiter Robinson has told me the chef is from Thailand.I hope he is going to cook the next time I am on board.

It had to happen.A speedo man on board.

There he was resplendent in the tiny cloth barely covering his buttocks,parading all his predicaments by the pool.Don't these grown up men know when they look ridiculous? And if they don't shouldn't the wife point him on the straight and narrow? Or lock him up in the cabin until he comes to his senses?Several years ago on the Queen Elizabeth I was chased by a Speedy Gonzales around the ship,he found all my hiding places until I could hide no more and it was either telling him bluntly enough is enough or jump off the ship.As I am here to tell the tale,it was not the latter. 

I have a scratchy throat.

Bad luck if this happens on a ship but happen it does to quite a few of us judging by the coughing all around.In St.Maarten I picked up Vics syrup and some retinol face cream I could see sitting on the counter.Today in St.Vincent a supermarket was open,nothing else whatsoever outside the terminal,as it is a Sunday.I came across it by chance.A pharmasist said lozengers were the best thing  for the throat as I myself had thought.But I cough.Didn't go to the theatre last night.Cancelled the tour I had planned for today and tomorrow.My lovely waiter just  brought me some cranberry tea, as I am having dinner in The Britannia club restaurant.Robinson and Laszlo are fussing over me.It is lovely to be fussed over.

Drug death lady Beth"let down by the NHS",says the family.

I cannot imagine anything more painful than a parent burying own child.Beth had so much,born to wealth and riches,yet ended her  short life selling her body for money to buy heroin that killed her.Where was her family when she was struggling with anorexia,self-harm,drug abuse?Why are they now blaming everybody but themselves?

A little girl was born in  my street two years ago.She was such a good baby,I never heard  her cry.Lately she cries constantly.It is heart wrenching listening to her.She cries for her mother, who has time for parties,week-ends away,everything and every-one, but her child.The little mite does not respond to smiles,to baby talk.Cared for by nannies,by the housekeeper,showered with toys and clothes,she has everything and she has nothing.Lady Beth in the making.

After a little retail therapy back to the restaurant for some jerk chicken.It is hot,hot,hot.

This is what I see from the table where I am sitting,St Maarten,the Dutch half

The cappuccino was adequate,the fresh orange excellent,once the ice had been removed.They fill up the glass with ice,the usual trick,the second glass of this freshly made deliciousness was super.

St.Maarten,29 November 2019

If there is one thing I am sure of,it is that on my return am putting away this Huawei tablet and am getting me  the Samsung tablet I have been eyeing but at the very last minute got tempted with this cheap alternative reduced by £30 to £99 or so,knowing that if I didn't like it  I had  several people to gift it to (we are a large family with lots of children.)Oh,it is fun to use,but not the kind of fun I like - the reliable kind.

Where has the time gone?!

Today is the fifth day at  sea,tomorrow this magnificent vessel is docking in Philipsburgh,St Maarten.Where has the tíme gone?Huawei tablet is a joy and a nightmare,blink an eye and it shuts down and I cannot  for the life of me figure out how to extend the time.Samsung phone my sister has given me is easy to negotiate and once my thinking cap  is on I work out what and how, except  how to transfer photos to my blog!
Also Huawei anticipates too much and replaces my words
often with gobbledygook,no sooner have I corrected them,new strange lot appears on the screen.
If only my good old faithful Toshiba chromebook was not so heavy it would go with me everywhere.

The Queens Room,2pm

And The Imprezza String Trio is playing in this most impressive of rooms.It is quite a lovely way to spend forty-five minutes.The girls are young,eager to please,extremely well trained and Ukrainian.The Queen Victoria is very lucky to have them.On The Columbus (Cruise and Maritime) a year ago the Ukrainian musicians were absolutely  fa-bu-lous.Never before and never since have I heard such accomplished players on a ship.
The day is turning out to be quite lovely.
Up at 7 (the clocks were set back by one hour last night),I walked 4 km,then some orange juice and a cup of coffee,a quick change and an hour  spent stretching in the gym,on the way back to my stateroom some porridge with almond flakes then sun-bathing on the balcony.

Yes,it is almost hot enough to sun-bathe in the alltogether.Lunch  early at 12.30 in the Britannia club,wanted to be finished  by  2, so that I could sit and listen to this  lovely trio.Yes,life on board can be utterly addictive.

I made it.Almost the last to board the ship.

• But I made it.I had the privilege of being escorted by a  charming security  officer all the way to the steps leading to the ship where I was collected by a head purser.And told by her  I would be spending the night in a cabin 4054,because the booked stateroom had been flooded the previous day.I did not mind at all,I was on board! Then came  the night and the never ending noise from the ventilation.Every ship keeps a cabin for emergencies.I needed an emergency cabin from an emergency cabin! The next morning when I took the first bundle to the now"dried out"cabin I wad horrified.There was a thick sediment of dust everywhere,EVERYWHERE.Whatever had happened there that made it unlivable it was not a flood.So I had a conversation with the appropriate members  of staff and by the end of the day the stateroom was deep cleaned,I was given $200 to spend on  board,a bunch of flowers,a bottle of champagne and two members of staff to help me move.That night I slept like the proverbial log.

Sunday was like any other day before travelling.

Up at 7,a dash to get a newspaper and coffe,then  going through the "do
list" and putting the finishing touches to the little jobs that can and must be done  before travelling only.The packing was left for the afternoon.And then I discovered a little puddle on the kitchen surface.Have I spilled something?I would have wiped it immesiately,I was reasoning with myself.It did not take me longer than 5 seconds to know that the water could only have come from above.And it did, from the utility room.The washing machine hose sprang a leak just where it joined the water pipe.It was a Sunday and the next day I was going on a 24 night cruise.Luckily I was able to turn off the supply.

Monday morning I  hailed a taxi to take me to Waterloo.The driver said the Westminster bridge was off bounds,we had to take the Lambeth bridge.This,I later found out,was not true,and needlessly added at least half an hour to the ride and at least £10.I missed the 11.35 train,the next train was  at 12.35.For just over an hour we were told several times we were about to depart. Then were asked  to leave the train,it was cancelled.I ran towards the taxi rank and asked at least 3 drivers to please take me to Southampton.All 3 wise men got out of their cabs and consulted between themselves.Then they gave me the news-if one  WAS to take me, it would cost £250.Only neither of them was going to.I have found from experience  that I work best with my back to the wall.Please take me home to Notting Hill I reluctantly asked the first Ever Ready  in line. Because that is the way it is done.The biggest idiot of them all was taking me.Finishing his sandwich,taking his phone calls while driving.Please do not do that,I said,it is illegal and dangerous.We are not going anywhere,answered he,look at the traffic.I made a call to the taxi firm I use and was sent a cab to come and pick me up at home at 14.30.As always,as all drivers from this excellent firm,he was on the dot.Just after 4 we were at the Mayflower terminal.It cost me £140.The phone number of the taxi firm is 0207  221 3888.

I do not like the French.

There,I said it.Call me racist. Call me what you like.Inform  the Facebook police. Call   the hound dogs on me.It is not going to make me like them any better.The French  are simply  too arrogant to even consider that they may not be bees knees to others.
Passing the bread counter in the Whole Food Market in High Street Kensington this morning I overheard a customer say to a woman in a white overcoat  - I do not like your attitude.I heard a French accent respond and  realised there  may be an argument, so rather than witnessing a possible unpleasant exchange  I quickly decided to go back for my sourdough loaf  later.And this is what I did having filled the basket with other items.The same woman  the man had an exchange with was standing with her back to me. She turned her head but said nothing.I stood patiently for good 2 minutes.She looked at me again  - I would like you to slice  me  a loaf,please, said I  and  smiled encouragingly. There is sliced bread there already, why don't you take that,she replied.  NO,I do not want that, I want this,  I replied   and pointed to my chosen loaf. Can't you do it yourself? Don't  you know how to do it?,responded  the French accent.
What did you say? I want  YOU  to do it.  It is your job. You must see I have full hands [I had  2 Zara shopping bags in my right hand,a large shopper over the left shoulder while holding  a basket], I am not putting my bags on the dirty floor, nor the basket with food.I heard a customer say to you earlier he did not like your attitude.  If you think it is beneath you to serve people, then you should not be working in a shop.
I was absolutely furious and walked away,in fact I do not recall the last time I was so angry,made angry by  a  French madam, who thinks she is too good for this world.

The utterly gorgeous,sexy,simply divine Tina Turner with voice to match has published memoirs.

"Ike made me go to a brothel on our wedding night" she says in her  "exclusive soul-baring interview."
The Mail on Sunday, 07/10/2018.

Oh, Tina, I wish you didn't bare your soul quite so much.
Another mud throwing at a dead person who is not here to defend himself.

Why do people do it?

Next week my friend is coming to stay for several days,

we were  the only mature students at  University,he a bit more mature than myself.
To date I do not know how old he is,I know the day and the  month of his birth,but not the year,he has steadfastly refused to divulge it,But then I myself am of the opinion that a man should never ask  a woman  how old she is or how much she weighs,so what is good for the goose...
My friend and I went to all University happenings together, often sat down for a meal in the crypt of the church in Trafalgar Square after a visit to the National Gallery.
When  my husband met him for the first time he  whispered-I have nothing to worry about  here, he is gay.
Gay?Why on earth would you think that?
Gay, was a firm reply.And nothing would make him change his mind.Not that I had ever tried,my friend's sexual orientation had never been  of any consequence to me.
My friend and my husband had one very similar characteristic, frugality.
I used to tease my friend he kept his wallet under a lock and key.He had  this strange pained expression when he had to open it.To date this has not changed.
When I met my husband he was of the opinion   two pairs of trousers  were not needed as you  can wear  at a time one pair only.Slowly things changed,of course,but it was not easy.Frivolity was not in my husband's make-up. Even now when he looks down on my  wardrobes filled to the brim   and  the countless  pairs of shoes, he must be wondering,poor darling,  where did it all go wrong!

A mirror pool is a pool

filled with natural sulphuric thermal water kept  heated at 38-39  degrees C.You walk in in the altogether,having showered first, and are left to enjoy for  10-20 minutes.The first time I was by myself and stayed for 20 minutes,today there were five of us,I stayed for barely fifteen  as two German battleaxes   thought  they had it all to themselves.  No regard for any-one. A man from the men's pool separated by a partition had asked them twice to be quiet, to no avail. Why are the Germans so thoughtless?
After one leaves the mirror pool  [ so called,I presume, because the walls are glittering like a mirror, and the water is clear,too] one is ushered - wrapped in a massive white sheet - into a separate section  to lie down in a cubicle  and relax.It is quite common to have a massage after the bath,and I did today,it was a very enjoyable 25 minutes.
As much as I like the mirror pool,my favourite is the mud pool.You walk in sulphuric  mud in thermal water which springs  directly into the pool.The water is,well, muddy,dirty. Totally and completely.And I love it.

If I were not a glutton for punishment

I would not have experienced this morning one of the best massages I  have ever had.This massage was Thai,with oil.Oh,it still hurt, but only because the muscles,especially thigh muscles, needed time to recover from yesterday.
A "glutton for punishment" is such an amusing little  expression.I remember  using it when  Clem Curtis,The Foundations singer,told us during his performance on  a cruise ship, that he was getting married  again  in his seventies,having had quite a number of failed relationships behind him. A glutton for punishment, I muttered to myself involuntarily.He heard me and burst out laughing. Yes, I must be, he said.About a year or so later we met  on a cruise ship again.His memory razor sharp,we exchanged some pleasantries.I did not  ask him if he remarried.I never complain,never explain about my private life  and never ask questions about the private life of others.

Had oxygenotherapy this morning

as a part of  the nine treatments in the six day package.
The air we breathe  has about 21% of oxygen only. This special treatment through nostrils  gives the body 90-95% of pure unadulterated  O 2.   It helps the body   get rid of toxins and makes one  more frisky.I remember reading Madonna is a fan and many Hollywood stars like it,too.I chose it instead of a visit to  the salt  cave as the weather is supposed to be very bad this week.But the salt cave is well worth visiting and am hoping  to book it before I leave Themia Palace.

Thai massage

There is massage and there is Thai massage.
When my brother-in-law said yesterday he had the best Thai massage ever  and as  I love being massaged and a good massage  comes into the category of being totally and completely spoilt, I booked the classic massage  with the same native Thai girl without delay. For 60 minutes no less. The  mattress on the floor looked very comfortable and the pants  with a matching top I was asked to change into 3 sizes too big, just as I like my comfort wear to be.I never try on  clothes in a shop, buy everything a size larger than I need and thus can never go wrong with anything.It all started so well.And slowly  the dimly lit  lovely smelling room became a torture chamber. Lying on my stomach I was pressed by knees and elbows and hands  in bits I never thought I had.The pain in my thighs  at times excruciating.When I was asked to turn over  I thought things could only get better. Now I know never  to  count  the  chickens...Where and when have I acquired all the little tiddly muscles  that hurt so much when being squeezed? For donkeys years  I  have lived happily without them and suddenly here they are letting me know at every which turn they have been neglected  and the time  has come for me to pay!   The massage of the back, the arms, the neck and the head was as I had expected it to be.
Being a glutton for punishment have booked an hour with the same  masseuse for tomorrow, only this time I have craftily selected a massage with aromatic oils.She will not be able to pinch  with greasy hands quite  so much.

I don't know why the frankfurters The Thermia Palace serves taste so good,but they do.

I I don't know if it is  their  tiny  midget like size that makes them  appealing, or special ingredients. I just know  that I love them.And when I knew I would be staying in the hotel I could not wait to have them again. And they were lovely. My brother in-law had seven and I, well, I was not far behind!

And the waffles, oh la la!Home made blueberry  and plum jam, haven't had  a waffle for good five years.

Thermia Palace, Piestany,

According to the very respectable Washington Post

TheThermia Palace, the five star spa hotel in Piestany,Sovakia,is the seventh best place in the world to lose weight.I do not go to this lovely hotel to lose weight, I like my food too much.I go there to indulge and to have the most wonderful  treatments.I arrived today for six nights,my sister and her husband have joined me  for two.The room is immaculate.This is the only hotel where  I never have to wipe the drawers before unpacking.I did check the first time, spotless, the second time  equally clean, the third time - well, why did I bother.
The weather  has been glorious, tomorrow all is going to change.Who cares, when one is being spoilt and looked after, and taken care of from morning til night.

Most women ignore the instruction manual,

says The Daily Mail."Women, the young and the highly educated  are most likely to give up and muddle through - or settle for never fully knowing  how their device works. "Yep, that's me,  not young but highly educated  giver upper and muddler through.  But somehow, and only God knows how, I usually find out how everything  works,it may be later rather than sooner, but find out I do, it kind of dawns on me in a flash of inspiration.But there are the sofa legs still in the original packaging after good 7 years.One day...

There is no TV programme more enchanting than The Undateables

James, so prepped by his mum, his brother and the best friend for the date and then completely speechless in the presence of the very capable and confident  Caroline  who propelled them  forward and the birth of fledgling love palpable.
The effervescent Charlotte.Her first date did not know what hit him.Not  a hugger,she concluded. No,Charlotte,not a hugger.
 And then she was paired with an assistant chef whom, not having had a date for five years, was ripe and ready to be hugged by this bubbly woman with the  indefatigable spirit.
Forget about nerdy, forget about geeky,you have been waiting for this lovely woman all your life, so let her touch  do the talking.
It was such an humbling experience watching these young people take a mammoth step into the lion's den of dating.At the end of the hour I felt completely inadequate and such  a coward.
There is a little bit of the  "undateable" in all of us.

Westfield Shopping Centre, White City,

or Shepherds Bush, to those in the know.
This part of London  used to be a dump with a very high crime rate, but things have changed considerably since the  shopping centre has been built. It is a lovely brisk  walk from my home down the Holland Park Avenue,but I do not come here often,only when I have visitors.Today is an exception. Wanted Marks & Spencer  tomato soup.It is seriously good.  So it was either Marble Arch or Westfield.
Too late for the  tomato soup,had some chicken and sweet potato salad, the  birds are going to enjoy  the latter. M&S,the best brand in the whole wide world, is wonderful, beautifully  laid out, the latest new arrivals  hanging up proudly. I just had to have  a dark blue raincoat.A short   autumn jacket  shining in the light caught my eye,ideal for the wife of  one of my nephews,was very tempted to get it, but with new items coming in every day, have decided to wait a little longer.
Why on earth would I want to shop on the internet,when it is so much more pleasurable to touch and feel what catches my eye.
PHASE EIGHT. There was a branch years ago in Notting Hill and I have some lovely pieces from there,many not worn for years, yet I cannot give them away.No,I tell a lie, gave  a leopard print sweater to my sister, regretting it instantly [no, you do not have to return it to me!]  So I was overjoyed when I came across   a branch here, in Westfield. Not for long. There was nothing, absolutely nothing I would want to wear.The last item I bought in Phase Eight was an utterly gorgeous netted skirt two years ago.I think it is going to remain the last.
So I am sitting, enjoying a free cup of Starbucks coffee,courtesy of  Samsung [they have such lovely, smiley,friendly staff.]
Samsung has a new  S 4  tablet out, am seriously considering getting one. For a year I have been seriously considering getting Samsung  S 3   tablet.  Now S 4 has arrived.  By the time I make up my mind S 6 will be in the shops!  It is just  that I am so used to  my  lovely Toshiba  chromebook,it  does everything even though sometimes  Google refuse to connect me when they think my privacy could be compromised.  But it is heavy. And a tablet would be half the weight at least. And a new lighter  something is a must for next year when I  intend to do a lot of travelling.I travel light.  Toshiba often weighs more than all the clothes I carry!

Yes, I know who Germaine Greer is,

I answered  an acquaintance yesterday.
Are YOU a feminist,she continued.
What on earth has brought this on, soon you will be asking me how old I am and how much I weigh,I replied laughing.
She pointed to a small tin of paint I just bought in my local Leyland.
So you think I am a feminist  because I carry a tin of paint,  I exclaimed in disbelief.
And you also do decorating, she ventured smiling.My daughter said she saw you outside  on a ladder some months ago.      Yes,  my  ladder and I  are good friends.
Our little talk has got me thinking.Ms Greer is a feminist.She  does not have a high opinion of the Duchess.
Ms Greer and I have one thing in common and i is not my being a feminist.      What on earth does it mean,anyway?

I have always been my own woman. I know my worth,am comfortable in my own skin.
I bow to no man.
I neither smoke nor drink, except when I remember how good red wine is supposed to be  for one's heart and the odd cocktail on holiday.
I am not much of a cook, but am  a wonderful hostess and a homemaker.
I  readily tolerate  people's little foibles yet do not suffer fools gladly.


I believe every-one and trust no-one. Not until they have proved to me they deserve my trust.Then they have it unreservedly.
I dislike scroungers and layabouts be it royal or common but help readily when help  is needed.
Does any of this make me a feminist?
The thought  of political correctness sends shivers down my spine.
That certainly dos not make me a feminist!

"The day I learned to live with my wonky nose and wrinkles"

was the day in a Harley Street waiting room,says  the beautiful Rachel Johnson, The daily Mail columnist.
Well, Rachel,I too have a wonky nose and wrinkles,and I also  have deep set hooded eyes that are getting deeper and hoodier as I write  and I have decided to do something about it.  As  soon as I get a little bit of time.     In  the autumn of 2019.    And if not then,  in 2020  definitely.  Maybe.

"I'd walk by and pinch their bum or give them a slap.So what?"

says the eminently sensible and down to earth  former BBC Royal Correspondent Jennie Bond. "A little office flirting  is good for morale."  And I agree totally.When the very likeable  world class Slovak cyclist Peter Sagan pinched a flower girl's  bottom on a podium in 2013, the politically correct  band  was in uproar.Utterly preposterous.We are so uptight about a little mischief that makes  the world go round.
I was in Warnemunde, Germany,about a month ago.  Walking while taking an important phone call, I passed  a man dressed as a white statue, suddenly I felt a pat on the bottom and heard  a whistle. I looked at him,burst out laughing,made a face, finished  the call,then took a picture of him.  An Englishwoman would have shouted  sexual harassment, an American would have hauled him in front of a judge demanding  a million $  for pain and suffering.

Carol Vorderman reinvents herself as a relationship guru

Oh,Carol,you were on TV for 26 odd years, then on Celebrity reality show,were a Loose Woman, have advertised money schemes,published a book on dieting, you have two failed marriages behind you and are not able to keep a man yet you see yourself fit to tell women over fifty how to have a fulfilling relationship!   Is there no end to your talents? True, your face at 57 is flawless, your figure  that of a temptress,but does this  give you credence to proclaim yourself to be an expert on the matters of the heart?
A man over fifty, if divorced, would rarely commit again, once bitten,twice shy.
If a widower, he would go to his grave grieving for the woman he once loved and no-one else would ever come anywhere near her in beauty and personality.
This leaves the married younger lothario who would bed any woman stupid enough to fall for his hard luck story about the wife at home who does not understand him, or the married older lothario,who would bed,well, any-one.
There are success stories, of course,when a woman meets a man and boom bara boom,something wonderful happens and a relationship worth having and nurturing can be  had. But this does not happen by sleeping with every Tom,Dick,or Harry.

My family in Hyde Park

"A WALKER is a gay man who escorts women to social occasions...

Sometimes these women are divorcees or widows,other times are  "society widows"-with husbands too busy or unwilling to attend  functions."
Cunard provides  DANCING PARTNERS   for women who want to dance and have no-one to dance with.
On FIRST DATES, a  British TV programme,there was a  94 year old millionaire  who was also  engaged by Cunard to work as a dancer.On First Dates  he was introduced to a lovely 70 something lady whom he considered  too slow for him!
The Queen Victoria has an absolutely beautiful dance hall called appropriately The Queens room.On some cruises I used to go and sit on the upper level and listen when jazz was being played. Tonight a big band gave a concert so I went to listen to them.A couple twirling,she in a beautiful long gown, he in a waistcoat.When the music stopped and he escorted the lady to her seat it was obvious he was an employee.Paid to dance. And I think it is a wonderful idea.
And then two men took to the floor.Argentinian tango resounded.The older bold man threw his leg about,then wrapped it around his partners thigh.It was not a pretty sight.
There has been talk lately about   the Strictly Dancing  bringing  in couples of the same sex to dance together. Nooooooooooo!

Warnemunde was mentioned for the very first time in a document dated to 1195

as a small fishing village.It takes its name from the river Warnow.The neighbouring town Rostock bought the  village in 1323 and since then their co-existence has been tied together,the fortunes and misfortunes of one reflecting closely on the other.A University  was built in Rostock  in 1419[I think it was the first University in Germany].By the 19th century Warnemunde  became a very fashionable bathing resort,having been connected with the rest of Germany by the  railway.In 1852 the first German sea-going,propeller -driven  steam ship was built in Rostock,by 1939 the town and the   Warnow  was  an important centre for the manufacture of armaments,U-boats and Heinkel aircraft.  In 1942 Rostock  and the surrounding area was  bombed mercilessly by the RAF  [The British Royal Air Force]  and much  of it was destroyed.On 1 May 1945 Rostock and Warnemunde  were  occupied by The Soviet Army and later became  a part of  East Germany.In 1990 Germany was re-unified.
If it was not for one thing - the  non existence  of wi-fi -  Warnemunde  would be Germany at its very best  - but  not a single coffee shop or a restaurant where I enquired  offers free wi-fi. It can be accessed at The Port only and even there it is unnecessarily complicated and once you do go through the palava, the connection is intermittent and very weak. I simply cannot comprehend the stinginess of these people.Is it like this in the whole of Germany?
I took a 5 Euro  30 minute ride on a white train, it was the most excellent way of seeing this little gem of a town.
It is immaculate, has a single graffiti - on a bench in the centre of town,coffee shops aplenty, service not offered with a smile,but this may be  the German character, rather than a reflection of low wages as all the workers seem to be German born so presumably paid more than the minimum wage.
The town has a  shoe shop called Easy  Way, I never walk out empty handed.
Passing by a  clothes shop called Feeling I  went in out of curiosity why it had been given such a name, as it looked dumpy from the outside  with nothing in the window to be proud of, and I fell in love  with two dresses I simply had to have.One should never presume anything about any-one.Or to put it differently,one should never judge a sausage by the skin.

The cornerstone of entertainment on a cruise is the ship's orchestra and the dancing and singing troupe.

The musicians  on the Queen Victoria are good.The singers are not.The choreography on the first formal night, 11 August, was pitiful,the very capable dancers were flapping about like ducks out of water.
Pete Matthews is an excellent juggler,have seen him twice  on other ships,knowing his very amusing routine would not have missed him for the world.He did not disappoint.
Davie Howes sings and  plays piano,trumpet,flugel horn. A Jack of all trades, a master of none.
Mike Boyle,a comedian, had us in the palm of his hand, utterly faultless.
Lorraine Brown of the "soulful and rich"  voice should talk less and sing more.
And last night,for the want of something better to do, went to see another performance  of The Royal Court Theatre Company.They tangoed, jump jived, lindy hopped.The choreography was good, at times lovely.

In the gym I have noticed people being given a physical once over

by a physiotherapist.Had  the most excellent massage this morning by a Bulgarian masseur,and as every engine needs an M.O.T. and there is no engine  more in need of fine tuning than a human body,  in no time  was I resplendent  on the examination table, breathing in and breathing out,being poked,probed and stretched in all directions and I am coming back for more  every day until disembarkation.And am also having anther massage by the very capable Dimitri.I  much prefer having a massage by a  man,they have so much stronger hands, even though years ago  I was superbly  massaged by a slip of a Canadian girl.

Helsinki

and I forgot to charge my mobile, so am not able to take any photographs,it is too far to go back to the ship,have had to change my plans for the day.
This  self-made misfortune has befallen upon me  twice on my travels, the first time in 2016  in  St Petersburg,I could not photograph the  inside of   the magnificent  Church Of The Saviour On The Spilled Blood, the second time  in Helsinki  two  days later! 

So  I am going to walk and walk and walk the streets of the city, enjoy the scenery and the people.
The Gods may not be smiling at me today but as long as people do, all will be well.

I do not like taking organized excursions.

They have their place, of course,are invaluable to many and I myself have taken quite a number of them over the years,but given a choice I always prefer to make my own way wherever  the way  may take me.Some cruise companies offer the most wonderful way to get to know  this glorious city by providing transport  that takes one to the centre, you do your own thing for 2-3 hours,then  are collected   at an agreed spot and Bob's your uncle, an independent traveller is as happy as an Easter bunny,Not Cunard. So unless you have your own visa - I did try to get one when I came to St. Petersburg for the very first time on the  Celebrity Eclipse, but it was such a palava,I was completely turned off the whole process - you either join the tours provided or you stay on the ship.I have seen most of what the city has to offer but have not been able to photograph the inside  of the mot breathtakingly  beautiful church I have ever been to - The Church of The Saviour on the Spilled Blood[and the Bolsheviks  had wanted to blow it to pieces] - the battery of  my camera  had given up on me - so jumped at the chance to do so on a  PICTURESQUE St PETERSBURG  excursion. It was mainly a  boat cruise [more like  a rickety  old uncomfortable  barge]  on The River  Neva with this one stop  on dry land.We sailed past The Cruiser Aurora,whose gun signalled with blank  shot  the beginning of the Revolution in 1917 and the onslaught on the Winter Palace.It is docked near the  Peter and Paul Fortress, the cornerstone of the city,  erected  in 1703, and practically next  to  the old KGB building. We took photos of the Michael's Palace,The Hermitage,The Winter Palace and other ostentatious  residences  built for the nobility.There was even a small house  just for drinking coffee.For drinking coffee.The utter obscenity of the riches of the few in profound contrast  with the abject poverty of the majority of Russians.[The Winter Palace has 1000 rooms.]That was yesterday.Today I walked the walk.What I saw from the boat yesterday, I saw on foot today.There were six buses in all of like-minded people.

Today has been the most wonderful day to date,

after the most excellent  freshly pressed orange juice  and coffee  I  walked and walked and walked, then  went to my favourite clothes shop to see if they had a white linen dress  similar  to the ones I bought six years ago.No, completely sold out after the hot summer they have been having.But I was determined to find something equally nice and that I did  in  BAGGYS.And a super duper bag.There was an utterly lovely souvenir shop with the nicest things,they had  warm insoles and I so wanted to get some for my god-children, but the queue was long and I do not like queuing.That is an English  characteristic  for better or for worse. Simon would have queued without a murmur.So I retraced my steps and returned to the restaurant for some lunch.I was lucky to get a table by the window. Heaven.Tomato soup the best I have ever had. The best. Spiced sprats  on a homemade rye bread with hemp seeds, homemade butter,Pilsner beer,yes, beer, I could not think of anything better to go with the food. Lunch fit for a queen.Then a cup of that excellent coffee,the lovely waitress knew how to make it for me, strong.I talked to an Australian couple sitting next to me, the lady said she had to have the tomato soup after hearing my eulogy.She said she never heard any-one talking like that about  soup!Well, when I fall in love, I fall in love.
And back to the ship, at 16.30 we are leaving  for St Petersburg.

Vana Wiru

a restaurant  where I am sitting  enjoying a freshly squeezed orange , a cup of latte I am yet to taste, is the most wonderful  immaculately clean place and the  waitress is lovely, charming, smiling. Not all look so happy, but  today I am lucky. The plates are being left completely cleared  by happy patrons and the cakes on display, my goodness, so irresistible,just when I have decided to stop indulging!Not in Vana Wiru!Tallinn,you are my cup of town.

This morning the Queen Victoria docked at Standsgarden 167,Stockholm.

There is a limited  shuttle  bus service  transfer from the ship to the City Centre. I boarded one of those buses and was greeted by a smiling blonde lady bus driver.Soon we drove off.The drop off point being the square where the Opera house is situated.All went very well until we almost reached our destination,  then a female  voice speaking Spanish resounded from the very front of the bus to the very back, getting louder and louder, more and more irritated.It was the woman driver talking with her Spanish speaking dispatcher.We turned into the  Jakobsgatan Square.And could go no further.No room for the bus to manoeuvre.And then the real fun began.The voice of the woman reached a fever pitch as did that of her dispatcher.She tried to reverse. All around ONE way streets.  To the credit of the Swedish drivers there was not one single hoot.They all sat there,queues everywhere, waiting for the show to come to a conclusion.We halted. Some Cunarders decide to abandon the bus.
Not me. I was staying to the end whatever the end was going to be.And slowly but surely the situation went  from  ridiculous to sublime. The driver began to cry. Yes, the driver burst into  tears.Some men went to give her advice and I wish they did not,they  made her feel even worse and she was sobbing her heart out.And then a knight in shining armour got up and spoke with her and went out  and stopped all the incoming traffic in one of the one way streets   and she was able to drive through that street  into a wide boulevard. Our rescuer was an English gentleman, very handsome. Sitting  alone.Why would an intelligent, capable, and  good-looking man travel by himself, I cannot understand. Maybe he is alone, because he IS sensible.
My husband used to say whenever he was asked to give a speech at a wedding, which was always, because he was very witty - if you want to stay happy,do not get married.He said it jokingly,of course,or did he, come to think of it,he was never laughing when he said it!
Even when the merciless Alzheimer's was raging, he retained his sense of humour and would say to every-one in a restaurant or on a bus,conspiratorially- I love my wife very much. I have to, she has all the money!

The entertainment on the Queen Victoria.

This morning  Lord  Digby Jones gave us  a sixty minute  talk about how  great he is.
Last night a juggler Pete Matthews showed us how great he is.
On Saturday the ship's own troupe demonstrated  that they have nights when they cannot hold a tune or keep in step.There were times when I would have done a better job of it with my two left feet.
Today the lovely Marilyn Monroe showed  in the River Of No Return that she has no equal on screen and I have come to a conclusion that however many times I may see Lily James in Cinderella, I will not grow any fonder of her.

I love chicken curry, prawn curry, prawn biryani,tarka dhal

and whenever either is on the menu I always order it.Today at lunch a spanner was thrown in the works, so to speak.    Paneer biryani was offered  and as I do not recall ever tasting panir,I chose the dish.After the meal my lovely waiter, who was today serving the lucky Cunarders  in the Queens grill,came to say hello.As he is from India and an expert on all things Indian, he told me all he knew  abut the  cheese,because that is what panir is, hard cheese.     I said-perfect for any kind of cooking, remains well put together.        If I may say - well put together  like yourself- he replied with  a huge smile.  He is a charmer.

And talking about ditties.

My late husband was full of them.The first one he ever told me was:
There was a young man from Sydenham,
who lost his trousers with quid in 'em,
he found them again down  Petticoat lane,
not with a quid in'em
but with a yid in'em.

My husband was Jewish, very proud of his heritage, but of the opinion   religion had always been at the root   of all the world's problems and he had always been  able to laugh when jokes about the Jewish people were told rather than take offence.

There has been so much publicity recently about the sexual abuse by clergy.

I have come across a witty ditty by Chesterton,G.K. that implies the problem is centuries old:
John Grubby,who was short and stout
and troubled  with religious doubt,
refused about the age of three
to sit upon the curate's knee.

Alongside the Queen Victoria my old enemy, Columbus, a flagship of Cruise and Maritime

was docked this morning. In had spent 45 nights on the vessel last autumn. Never again. Ever.

I took a bus No 26 back to the port

and from the window  I saw a sight as rare in Copenhagen as a big bottom on a Danish woman-graffiti.

Good-bye Tivoli Gardens

the coffee was just as bad as it looked,but when I was asked by the lovely server if I liked it I gave her a big smile and said - lovely. There is nothing wrong with telling a little white lie so that feelings are not hurt. We say so many big  untruths  where only truth should be spoken and not enough little unimportant ones that would  make people happy.

Copenhagen.

Have been here several times. Have walked the breadth and length of the city twice at least. It never rained. Today all morning  it poured.And just when I thought I would not set a foot outside the Queen Victoria the sky had began to clear.Walked to the bus stop  26, I even ran to catch the bus and I never run for a bus.As the weather  looks  unpredictable  I  decided to stay on the bus  until the last stop and turn back again to the port on the same bus. And then we passed the Tivoli Gardens.Wonderful. So here I am nursing a so so cup cup of latte in a glass.I hate coffee served in a glass.A cup, a mug, a cooking pot, but never a glass, please.Have been here as a part of a city tour.I knew then what I know now, that it is a perfect place for children.And a perfect place to while away hours when it is spitting outside.The bus fare was 24 krone, the entrance to Tivoli 120, the coffee 44.  1£ - 8.38 DK.

Yes, am cruising to Scandinavia and Russia

and Kristiansund,Norway,was our first stop.Voyage V 825,10-24 August 2018.I love this itinerary,I sailed there for  the very first time on the Celebrity Eclipse and loved it so much, have done it  on two  other ships since, this  being the third-Cunard's Queen Victoria. Originally,some six months ago,I booked a Britannia Club Cabin,this particular grade has the least number of cabins and sells out fast.I was in a Club cabin for the first time last Christmas and loved it unreservedly and when I knew I wanted to sail to St Petersburg again, I made a reservation immediately.Only once on board last Friday did I realize that I had been upgraded to a Princess Grill cabin 4094.There is only one grade higher, the Queens Grill.The Grills have own dining room and lounge, terrace adjoining the lunge  and a sun-bathing  area,all on the 11th floor.An elevator that  goes there is operated with a special key.The nicest surprise  was Eduardo,a Colombian maitre d', who was so wonderfully nice to me  at Christmas, and who is  now in The Princes Grill restaurant.We greeted each other like  friends I hope we are going to become.He is a no nonsense man, who came to appreciate my sense of humour and I his kindness.

If it is a Sunday,it must be Kristiansand,Norway

And I wish it was anything but. The town comes into the category you have seen one,you have seen them all.It is neat, it is tidy,it is clean. And that is all it has going for it on this  Sunday morning. There was a "city train" waiting in the port, 14$ return, or 100 krone, to take us to the centre.There  not even  a coffee shop was open.A ship docks with at least 1000 passengers and the Norwegians do not even think it would be the right  and the nice thing to do to welcome us in some way other than expecting  the unsuspecting traveller to spend money on a ride to nowhere and to  nothing. Now that IS being taken for a ride.There was a church in the square with two obligatory  gypsy women  beggars  in front of it, free entrance,thank God for small mercies, I went  inside,sat down, prayed for something to happen, it did not.Took the next train back to the port.So if you ever come to Kristiansand on a Sunday, stay on the ship.

The wise men say that after a bereavement one should wait a year, two,

before making any important decisions.I have waited 8 years and several weeks ago have set in motion a chain of events that would change my life for ever.
Several days ago boom bara boom, something very unexpected  came into my life that may have  taken me in the  completely different direction I am planning now, but  potentially change my future in the most wonderful way imaginable. And I said no because there is one thing,one thing only, so very important to me that has stopped me from taking the chance,one thing,that may not  matter at all in the long run, but at the moment seems to be insurmountable.
And I am  sitting here and asking myself - have I made a mistake?

"We buttoned-up Brits need to chill about nudity"

says the very likeable and  sensible Esther Rantzen. Ms Rantzen, I concur.

Yes, Mr Harvey Weinstein should be prosecuted

for exercising the poorest of the poor judgements  for  sleeping with trout pouts and inflated balloons, who after years of trying to make it big, small,or anything in the show business  and failing miserably, are now crawling out of the woodwork finally having their  five minutes of fame and if not that, at least a pound of flesh. He had the most beautiful woman in Hollywood, the talented  Georgina Chapman,at home. Why on earth would his inflated ego want to jeopardise  his  marriage? And then there is the risk of venereal disease.Harvey, you  really are  an idiot.

"Ottolenghi's Midas touch..."

as the very likeable restaurant critic Fay Maschler refers to Yotam Ottolenghi's  magic in the kitchen.Mr Kipling may make exceedingly good cakes, but no-one makes a cheesecake the way  the very handsome Yotam makes.In summer it is topped with strawberries, in winter with  caramel and  nuts.I am not a fan of caramel,but in this combination it is utterly scrumptious.

The lovely Kate Garraway of ITV's Good Morning

says "We are more adventurous in bed."     WE being the women  of 40+.  Kate,I am well  over 40 and if there is one thing I have learnt  it is that you can take a horse to water  but you can't make it drink it.

"Doctors told to honour "human value" of patients with dementia."

The Mail,20 June 2018.If only Labour took the  "human" value of patients  with dementia into account  when they introduced The Court of Protection.The way The Court operated when I had  to deal with them was the most disgraceful,utterly despicable way a human being  can be mistreated.There has been a lot of justified bad publicity in recent years about this Court and I do hope things have changed but I do not hold my breath.If the old layabouts who go to The House Of Lords to eat,sleep and be merry and even after just signing their name  walk out with almost £400 attendance  fee,and we pay for the privilege,could they not at least do something for the ill and vulnerable and bring pressure on the Government  to overhaul this blot on the legal horizon.
And isn't it heartbreakingly sad that  the  doctors have to be TOLD to treat the  patients with dementia in  a decent way.

To the 71 countries and territories I have visited I must add one more,Crete.

Was there about six years ago when cruising the Med on the Queen Elizabeth, or was it the Queen Victoria?Near the port came across a tiny shop with the most  enchanting window display - jewellery of all kind,nothing too fancy,nothing too glittery,I walked inside this  treasure trove of unusual items.A silversmith sitting, working on a necklace.I said good-morning and smiled, he smiled back.You have the most beautiful shop,but I do not want to buy anything, I just would like to look around, may I,please?Yes, of course.There was nothing I did not like. Did you  make everything yourself, I asked. Yes.  You are a master craftsman,I said. A set of silver earrings and a ring I liked the most, there was something childlike about them, the beauty  was in  the design, simple,yet utterly exquisite.I could not take my eyes off them. Why don't you buy them,suggested the craftsman.It is too expensive for me,oh, they are worth every  cent, but I do not have enough money.I must have been in the shop good 10 minutes,then thanked him and walked out. About twenty meters down the road I felt a touch on my arm. It was the shop owner., These are for you, they have been waiting for you.he said and handed me a box containing the earrings and the ring.Pay me what you can, he added.I  knew at that very moment I could not insult him and  say no.He wanted me to have his creations,because  he could see how much I appreciated his work,he knew I would always  treasure what he had  put his heart and skill into. I emptied my purse into his palm, about 40 euros.  People can be infinitely kind.

I must add one more country to the 70 I have visited already,

it is Montenegro.Years ago, while at university, I spent two weeks in Petrovac. Not giving it much  thought any longer I have kind of presumed Petrovac is in Croatia,it is, in fact,in Montenegro. After the political and territorial changes in Yugoslavia, Montenegro is now an independent state.

There are 195 countries in the world,

Taiwan is not officially recognized by all, so this would bring it down to  194.
The United Nations has  193  member countries and 2 non-member observer countries ,The Holy See and The State of Palestine.
The Travellers Century Club  lists on 01.01.2018            327 countries and territories.
There are 1400 people worldwide registered with    The TCC,   who have visited at least 100 countries.

Today,1.1 2020, I can say with some pride, that I have now been to 89 countries.

Jesse Simon Gordon

who also calls himself William Baekeland and claims to be an English aristocrat,heir to a billion £ fortune, is a Walter Mitty character, who had fooled the sharpest minds three times his age. The master criminal in the making, when he was  22  he claimed he had studied in North Korea,[ NORTH KOREA,this should have rang the bells!], Switzerland, Monaco,visited 154 countries, piloted planes, trains, automobiles, all this by the age of 22, 22, for cry now loud! And the wealthy travellers from all over the world believed every single word of his and handed him what comes to half a million £ to organize extreme travel tours for them.That they will never see a penny of their money they have come to terms with.That they allowed this baby-faced conman to rip them off is embarrassment they will be digesting and living down for a long time yet. How could they have been so gullible? But then some people have more money than sense.

I must be a glutton for punishment.

Have cruised on Ventura three times in as many years. I remember clearly how dirty the area around the outside pool was when on board the very first time,stale filthy water not draining off from the guttering,rubbish not swept,I commented on it to a member of staff,he looked at me blankly and walked away.I had this overwhelming sense of grubbiness all around, yet I,a stickler for hygiene, still managed to have a lovely time,I just had to close my eyes to a lot of shortcomings. The second time on board last year in June I had a cabin on the top floor, kind of askew,the whole side of the ship spread ahead of me. I loved it.The ship was not any cleaner, the attitude of the staff any more eager,but yet again I had a lovely time. Now I am on board for the third time!Yep,a glutton for punishment,me!There was dust around my two TV sets on 21 April,today there is quite a sediment.I wiped all the drawers and shelves I wanted to use,they were dirty.The wardrobe mirror had nasty finger marks on.The bed in my superior deluxe cabin is the worst I have slept on,two single beds pushed together. Towels are harsh but the large ones are very large and that is how I like them. There is a shower fitting in the bath tub and here is where the magic happens - water is always hot and the flow powerful,I love to feel it on my back and alternate hot and cold. The carpet in the stateroom seems to be new,the fluff is coming off as I walk. The tables up and down the ship in all the dining venues are never clean,even now as I write am looking at the crumbs I had brushed to one side. The overwhelming sense of grubbiness around me prevails as it had the last year and the year before that. Yet in spite of everything I have had a lovely time and being a glutton for punishment am very likely going to be back again! Because Ventura offers a lot to make me happy,good food and decent entertainment.

La Coruna,you were so spick and span yesterday,you almost took my breath away.

No smell of urine in the port,no condoms, no cigarette butts covering the pavement next to a restaurant I pass on the way to Calle Real.You have so much going for you and the best thing of all is your patisserie La Gran Atilla on Rua Riego De Agua. I only discovered this little treasure about three years ago and now every time I come to La Coruna, I go there for the best coffee in town and the as light as a feather carrot cake. The baker is a genius, a slight sprinkling of sugar all over the top gives crunchiness to this exquisite deliciousness. I do not go on bus tours any longer,as have seen almost everything there is to see in town and its surroundings. Have been there many times, the first time in December 2010, the last time in December 2017,twice - when returning from the South America/Caribbean cruise on Columbus and again at Christmas on the Queen Victoria. The weather was not on our side yesterday,it rained all morning,it is very wet in this part of Spain and my plans for the day went out of the window.Wanted to walk to the Torre de Hercules lighthouse [I did see it from a distance during my first tour of the town,but wanted to go inside, it was built in the second century A.D. and it is believed to be the only working Roman lighthouse],but it was cloudy all afternoon,too, and I thought it best to make myself busy near the ship,so after my visit to the patisserie I popped in some shops. They have Bimba and Lola boutique in town,founded, like Zara, in Spain,but much more expensive.I bought a suede pair of shoes there,have been looking for something black,simple and smart on a low heel for a long time now and finally have walked out of a shop with it.

There is a lovely lady on Ventura,

80 + ,weathered, wrinkled,still beautiful face,fashionably dressed but in an understated, simple, elegant manner. Today in the Saffron restaurant I was seated next to her and her companion.She looked at me and smiled, he looked at me and growled. I could not quite make out what their relationship was.There were no wedding rings. "I could not go on my balcony this morning,it was too windy,"I heard her say."My" balcony,of course, did not have to mean she was in the cabin alone. She leaned towards him and said something quietly. "I am not paying for that,"exclaimed he loudly."We have already had two trips on a coach, a cake and coffee in Madeira,it is all going on my credit card."^He has money to smoke like a chimney,he sure smelled like one,it was quite offensive and unpleasant. I cannot imagine what it was she wanted that warranted his reaction at lunch where all food,coffee,water, except soft drinks and alcohol, is included. At the end of the meal he marched off before her. This reminded me of another couple dining together on anther ship a year or so ago. Aren't you having any dessert, asked one lady another lady,part of the couple in question.Oh,no,replied she,my husband likes me slim,I cannot have cakes.I looked at the husband,expecting an Adonis. What I saw was an elephant with two chins not far from becoming three,a sprawling belly that the tight shirt could not contain,red swollen ankles,feet in slippers shaped like a dolphin's flapper.Sweet Jesus, I thought then, what life can this woman have being belittled by this thing.And there are many women who put up with this kind of indignity all their life. As I write I am sitting in the atrium of Ventura, where a dance class is taking place.Some dancers float,some stomp,some,well...been there,done that!

I visited Lanzarote for the very first time on my very first cruise in December 2010.

I took a comprehensive tour of the island organized by the Independence of the Seas.The island was a great disappointment to me.A blot on the horizon,nothing of interest,no history,no culture,no impressive buildings.At the entrance to the centre of Arricefe, the capital,there was a white small square low building, peeling paint on all four scruffy walls.Today,over 7 years later,the white square building is still standing just as scruffy,the peeling paint on all four walls.Everywhere you look the buildings are shabby,plain and awful.I have been to Lanzarote several times since.Not out of choice.The island is on the itinerary of every ship of every cruise to the Canaries.I have no doubt billions of EU money is poured here as is to the whole of Spain,the cruise ships bring in revenue of some magnitude. And Arricefe cannot afford a tin of paint. Every time I come I walk to the marina,pop inside a shop or two and return to the ship. I know I will be cruising to the Canaries again, I know Lanzarote will be on the itinerary. I have decided that the next time I come I will venture outside Arrecife again, maybe things have changed for the better. Well, Mr Cameron, the ex British Prime Minister had spent a holiday on the island with his family twice.Maybe I am missing something.

Tenerife is the highest,the largest,the most important and the most beautiful Canary Island.

The tourists flock there,because it has ideal climate all year round, it is never too hot in summer and never too cold in winter. And it has its own place in the Spanish history.In 1936 General Franco,then commander of the military region of the Canaries,set in motion the coup which led to the Spanish Civil War.The 1969 film "The Prime of Miss Jean Brodie" with the wonderful Maggie Smith paid homage to this era.I visited Tenerife for the very first time good 25 years ago and remember vividly walking on the top of El Teide,a dormant volcano and the highest mountain in Spain.El Teide has a Starlight certification,Tenerife has one of the clearest skies in the world.I remember taking a tour to the Puerto de la Cruz,a pretty little town and to the nearby Orotava Valley, the Botanical Gardens there with the perfect climate have a truly exceptional collection of trees and plants from all over the world.The naturalist Mt Humboldt described the Valley as the " finest view in the world."Maybe not the finest,but certainly up there amongst the best of them.For me the highlight of the day was the visit to the mansion Sitio Litre built in 1730 where Agatha Christie had stayed. As a child I used to devour her books.I love Poirot, the latest Murder on the Orient Express was shown on Ventura several days ago,Mr Branagh had done an excellent job.But no-one can and never will beat David Suchet as Hercule. My favourite Miss Marple?I could not choose between Margaret Rutherford [Murder on the Gallop my favourite, where she has an ardent admirer] and Joan Hickson,she is marvellous in every film. I do not like ZOO's,I hate to see animals kept in captivity. Loro Parque at the foot of El Teide is an exception.Over 13 hectares of grounds house mammals, birds, fishes, reptiles.[one hectar equals to 10 000 sq meters] I do not like Santa Cruz de Tenerife, the capital.It has 300 000 inhabitants,30 000 more than the whole of Madeira, and one can feel it every step of the way. Santa Cruz is brash,busy and bursting at the seems.I was there when a little coffee shop opened on the main shopping street 2 or so years ago, the parrots were parroting merrily,perched on people's heads, pictures were being taken.There was not a free seat to be had. Yesterday there was a free end table just for me. Freshly pressed orange, excellent coffee and a cheesecake.Now, I have tasted a better cheesecake - at Ottolenghi in Ledbury Rd,London,Notting Hill,but I have never seen a prettier one,the most enchanting concoction of mixed berries delicately perched on the top of the creamiest of cheeses sitting on a thin nutty florentine-like base on which a layer of the best chocolate was spread. A feast to the senses. I popped round to Desiqual,a Spanish chain, where everything is different to anything one can see in other shops,more colourful,better quality, and was tempted by a lovely top,I was also given a free small weekend bag,I have a loyalty card and sometimes am surprised by a gift,always a much appreciated lovely gesture.This is the way to keep a customer. There is one little town I am yet to see-San Cristobal de la Laguna,maybe the next time I come to Tenerife.Because come back I will. La Laguna is UNESCO World Heritage Site.

I have a like don't like relationship with Gran Canaria.

I like it when the weather is glorious,orange juice sweet and coffee good, don't like it when it isn't. Yesterday was cloudy and cold.I should have stayed on board. I went ashore and did what I do rarely-went inside the shopping centre next to the port.One ugly shop with identical ugly clothes after another. Then I got me an idea - a small bottle of Dior J'adore would make my day.I walked inside Fund Grube,a chain I am not familiar with,and got me a bottle costing 42.90 euros. In the evening I sprayed myself with the perfume and went to dinner. Sitting down a strange unpleasant aroma wafted around me. It was my perfume. I had been sold a dud.Probably an old bottle forgotten for years until I bought it. Or something went wrong when it was being filled. Dior has a customer service department in London, as I have already checked. There is where the bottle is going to go. Yes, I do have love hate relationship with Gran Canaria.

La Palma,the world's steepest island,seems to be on the itinerary of every P&O ship.

And if it isn't,it should be.and on the list of the ports of call of every ship that sails in this part of the world. The island is so tiny, you can "do" it in a day,you can, in fact, "do" it in half a day,as I did on my first visit there about 3 or was it 4 years ago when the Queen Victoria was too late to dock on Lanzarote.We had atrocious weather all the way from Southampton and it slowed us down considerably,one of the P & O ships had beaten us to the spot, thank God,and La Palma was offered as a substitute,thank God. When the Atlantic ocean is good, it can be very good, but when it is bad, it can be awful.And on that Christmas voyage it was worse than awful.And so we landed on La Palma. Besides seeing the whole of the island,in the capital Santa Cruz where the ship docked I managed to visit all the shops that took my fancy [my husband,being from the family of tailors, used to say, that every shop displays the best in the window and if you do not like what you see in the window, you will not like what there is inside], one of them a shoe shop.And this shop has been my first place of call on my every visit since.And I always buy something. Thursday last we had all day on the island,but the weather looked unpredictable, at times sunny,quite windy, the odd sprinkling of rain. It was best to keep near the port so that if the sky really opened one could quickly retreat to the ship. My first call was to the shoe shop and the most adorable and very,very comfortable, always a priority, pair of silvery grey sandals with a wide strap and a buckle, I have never seen anything so simple yet eye-catching,went home with me. There is also a lovely boutique,but it is at the very end of the main long shopping street and once I sat down to an excellent cup of coffee and a cake,I needed nothing more to make me happy and content,so I returned to my cabin. On my next visit to the island I would like to see again the Santa Maria, concrete and timber replica of Columbus' ship,the locals call Barco de la Virgen.

It should not always be the taste of sweet muscat wine and the smell of hyacinth on Madeira.

In 2005 Marina Do Lugar De Baixo was built.It was to be a home, be it temporary, for the super-luxury yachts.Since it was built the walls of the harbour have been damaged three times by huge waves to such a degree that repairing them now is simply not tenable and the road to the Marina has been chained off.Fifty million euros down the proverbial drain.True,only 3.5 million had been provided for this fiasco by the European Union, but the residents of Madeira have been given another 6 billion to play with and it is anyone's guess how much of it has been repaid since 2012 when the 6 billion was owed. Yes, 252 000 inhabitants owe 6 billion euros. In the shopping centre next to the Ritz hotel,where the shops are supposed to be open 9-13 and 15-19,several of them were still closed at 10.30 in the morning. I liked the look of one of them, so returned shortly after 12.As the only assistant was attending to two patrons, I popped inside the shop next door and went back ten minutes later.It was 12.15. The boutique was dark, the door firmly locked. The life on Madeira is very good for the natives.They have been blessed with the most wonderful commodity- the warm sea and the constant sun. And with the euro billions on tap it is always the taste of sweet muscat wine and the smell of hyacinth on Madeira.

Are you on holiday,

asked the young very pretty girl, full of smiles and speaking the most excellent English. Yes,I smiled back. Are you alone,she continued. Now, I do not like the Spanish inquisition.I do not like people asking me questions.I am happiest when I am left at peace,that is why I sit alone when I dine,I never share a table. But there are moments when I know curiosity is harmless and good natured,not the sticking nose into other people's affairs kind.And this was one of those times.So I engaged in conversation with this delightful young woman. Yes, I am alone. Why? Don't you have a husband? I did, but he passed away. I am sorry,when? Eight years ago. Eight years ago? It is a very long time.Why don't you find yourself a new husband? Nobody wants me. I do not believe it.You are  very nice,you smile,women come here and do not smile,and often they do not say thank you.I have an uncle,he owns this shop and many other shops and two hotels, my aunt died five years ago and my uncle is alone, he works all the time.I think you would like each other.He is also very handsome. My goodness,there must be so many women on this island who would want him,I burst out laughing. Yes, but he does not want them.But I think he would like you.Can you meet him? This was going from funny to sublimely ridiculous.I am on a ship and the ship is leaving at 5.30,I said. Oh,no,my uncle is  visiting my grandma and will be back in the evening.

She stood there,thinking.Are you coming to Madeira again? Yes. Please,please come also to the shop. I will,thank you.And I left.

The titled and the prosperous retired Brits used to spend winters on Madeira.

Madeira has everything and much more to make the mature visitor happy. It is clean,warm and sunny,[oh,it can rain,too, I have been a witness to it several times, but the downpours are short and sweet],the food is good,the wine very nice indeed.I am teetotal,it means I do not drink, well,I never used to at all, but the last several years there has been so much publicity exalting the benefits of red wine for the heart, to ignore it would not be very prudent,so since I have been cruising, I do have the odd glass,especially Madeira,for its aroma and sweetness.When I was with my sister on Oceana last month we had none, neither have I had any wine to date on Ventura,but I did have Budweiser the first formal evening and Carlsberg the second. So what is there not to love about this enchanting little Ilha da Madeira [Island of Timber] inhabited by some 267 000 people,that lies in the Atlantic ocean about 600 miles west of Lisbon. To spend winter months on the island must be heaven. The Brits have now stopped coming to Madeira,they go to Spain instead,it is nearer and cheaper. And it is not only the wealthy and the titled any longer, it is all and sundry and that is the way it should be. Funchal has some lovely little boutiques.My favourite is a shoe shop called Eureka, I discovered it two or so years ago only and on Wednesday was my third visit there. I always know if I want something the moment I look at it and in Eureka there is so much to like, but I did limit myself to two pairs of sandals only,hard as it was. There is a clothes boutique I always go to, but I liked nothing enough to want to have it, even though the costume jewellery was quite stunning.I love clothes and everything that goes with it, but I am a sensible shopper, I am not a shopaholic.In my favourite coffee shop Docura Madeirense I had freshly pressed orange juice, coffee and a cake filled with sweet cheese and then began to walk back to the ship taking the little side streets.Passing one very small boutique with just one assistant inside, the window display caught my eye,several items elegantly placed,simple bags,colourful scarves. I walked in.There were two cotton short sleeved tops I liked very much,they fitted like a glove and I decided to buy them.When paying a conversation took place that makes me chuckle still.

Madeira

I  love the island.I know it well.I have had tea at Reid's,the famous five star hotel where Mr Churchill had stayed. Long time ago  hotel Tamarindos, on Gran Canaria,where I had stayed when it was still a  luxurious five star retreat(now it seems to be getting 4 star ratings only), and the hotel Reid, were the only five star hotels in this region.

 Madeira, of course, is not a part of  Canary Islands, even though many people think it is,Madeira is Portuguese and Canary Islands are Spanish and the difference is very obvious,Madeira is elegant,refined, clean, Canary Islands are not.I have done sightseeing on the  tukxi,an eco friendly convertible electric  three wheeler.I have ridden on the toboggan,not as exhilarating  two or so mile descent as Mr Hemingway,the writer, would have us believe,not quite hair-raising enough,at times almost enjoyable had it not been for the feet of the drivers,my eyes reluctantly turning towards them,wondering  how good the soles function as  breaks.I had taken  the cable car from the seafront to Monte and walked through the Monte Palace Tropical Gardens.I have walked the Levada walk."Levadas" is an irrigation system, open canals built in the early 16th century, from the  rainy north part of the island to the drier south part and it is used to the present day.The walks alongside the canals are very popular  but  they are for the very dedicated  nature lovers and walkers only,as the trails can be wobbly and the feet get quite a battering unless good walking shoes are worn and on a holiday it is  not always so.On my tour many people underestimated the terrain,the sandals  totally inadequate,but once you start, you cannot turn back.

I had bought the most aromatic muscat grapes in the Farmers market,tasted  Madeira wine  in  a  Madeira wine cellar.I have been to churches and museums.I have even joined a crowd of people  and TV cameras waiting for Ronaldo,the most famous son of the island, to come and unveil a statue the town  of Funchal had erected for him [I did not wait,he was well over an hour late and  never even apologized,apparently he does a lot of  charity work,but good manners and consideration cost nothing , the famous get too big for their boots]. I have no doubt there are many more enchanting little villages and spots to discover all over the island and parts of the capital,Funchal,too.But you can never really see it all anywhere. You can see a lot of everything ,but you cannot see everything.So now whenever I come to Madeira I walk, I shop,I drink coffee and freshly pressed orange juice. And I love it.

It has been claimed by all the sales persons on the QVC shopping channel

that a woman's shoulder does not age and therefore every woman can wear a cold shoulder top.I can say without any hesitation whatsoever that it is not true.And never has it been more apparent than tonight at dinner when one flabby upper arm after another flabby upper arm dressed in a cold shoulder top walked into a restaurant.

Woke up to the foggiest of fogs enveloping the ship,

the gentle horn now and then letting all and sundry know we are here,sailing merrily towards Madeira.This is the marine practice and it makes sense whether some travellers like it or not.I find the sound of the horn quite comforting and love to hear it when a ship is leaving a port.Often it brings tears to my eyes. Some captains apologize for sounding the .horn,apparently people object to the noise. Well, it is a part and parcel of cruising and if you do not like it, you have no business to be on a ship. Breakfast was the usual affair of porridge [barely warm] and then a hot slice of bread with some too salty scrambled eggs.Why do the chefs forget that you can always add salt to a meal but you cannot take it away?I picked up some lemon slices, yogurt and raspberry tea and had a cup sitting on the balcony in my cabin.Not yet hot enough to sunbathe but warm enough to enjoy the sun and the magnificent view,the never ending sea,the waves frolicking and chasing each other.

P & O Ventura, cabin D 730, 21st April 2018,

This is my third cruise on Ventura.As I write we are sailing to Canary Islands having left Southampton about three hours ago. My first dining experience - dinner at 6 in the Saffron restaurant - was utterly stomach churning and no,not because the food was unpalatable. What was the problem? The eating habits of some of the travellers! There was a couple sitting at a table to the left of me. The man, 75 or so, having finished the roast lamb started picking his teeth with a tooth-pick.First tooth-pick, second tooth-pick, third tooth-pick.I tried not to look at him,but how can you not look at someone who is sitting almost opposite? And then up went the fingers.Yes, he was scraping and digging with his fingers. The full cavity work.I despaired. And then the neighbour to the right of me joined him! In unison, first a tooth-pick,then a finger! Oh,I have seen some disgusting things being done, but this was a double whammy that would make a strong man weep! I can see I am in for a bumpy sail.

Vigo,Vigo,Vigo,

just when I said I forgave you all your ugliness and much of a muchness after I found in the Port shopping centre just by the escalators [opposite the Jamaica coffee shop] the best,absolutely the best nutty biscuits in the world,you go and spoil it all by providing in the same shopping centre the dirtiest,smelliest,most unpleasant toilets I have ever come across in Spain.Broken door handle, broken door lock,overflowing bin, no soap,no hot water,the whole miserable looking area in need of total refurbishment,The revenue daily cruise ships bring into the town is astronomical.Where does it all go? Why don't the authorities take pride in the way their town is presented to then public? And why do not the cruise ship companies insist the areas the guests from ships use are kept immaculately clean, after all it is from these disgusting public places norovirus is brought on board.

I first visited Gibraltar many moons ago on one of my many honeymoons

my one husband had taken me on. We did not have a honeymoon when we got married so when we had settled into a married life my husband would say now and then-let's go on a honeymoon. The first one was in Rome,the second in Istanbul,or was it the other way round,it was all so very long time ago. Each and every one wonderful,each and every one with some very special memories. In Gibraltar we stayed at the then exclusive Rock hotel,where at the time of our visit John Dankworth [the musician] and Cleo Laine [the singer], had stayed.I knew instantly who they were,she of the most distinctive hair and I also loved their music.Not only had they stayed at the hotel the time we did,they also flew back to London on our flight and like my husband and I they were selected for a thorough search at the airport.When the four of us were singled out we all looked at each other,smiled,shrugged shoulders and resigned ourselves to the search. Why they? Probably the exotic way the lovely Cleo looked had a lot to do with it. Why my husband and I? My husband used to walk everywhere. He never took any transport if he could walk.And walk we did.We used our feet to get to know the whole of Gibraltar.I remember the water being on our right, the mainland on the left, after a good mile we came to an unmanned soldier's post,we continued and came to the end of the road with a massive opening into the rock ahead of us.Inside was a hive of activity,small cars,big cars,heavy machinery.We walked about enthralled, and when we got totally and completely lost I walked up to a nice man and asked for the way out.He looked at us in amazement wanting to know who were were. I explained. How did you get here,he exclaimed.I explained.There was no-one at the gate,he asked with incredulity.No,no-one.I knew in my youthful innocence-my husband always said laughing that for a "little girl from the sticks I always learnt fast"- that the matter of us getting lost in this strangest of strange places was getting to be curioser and curioser.Please come with me,said the man and we walked to a kind of shed-like structure with a window.The man went inside while we stood patiently outside.I could hear a phone call being made and two soldiers in a kind of mini-moke drove towards us.They indicated we should get onto the seats behind and we did and were driven to another shed only a much bigger one. Many more questions followed,many more answers were given.My camera was confiscated,I was told the film would be developed and the camera and photographs returned to me. We were then driven out into the daylight and continued the sightseeing.When we returned to the hotel I knew instantly our luggage had been gone through, nothing was as I left it.I am immaculately clean and tidy,know where and how I leave every single item wherever I am.The camera and the photos were left at the reception the next day.I had no doubt whatsoever we were searched at the airport with a tooth comb because of the incident. We had inadvertently strolled into a British military base and because I am from Slovakia, then a communist country, we were regarded with suspicion, and quite rightly so. But once they had developed the film they could only see a small monkey,a bigger monkey, a monkey bigger still.

19 March 2018,Gibraltar

The Port. The free wi-fi zone next to the toilets. The toilets immaculate,the smell pleasant,all electric fixtures and fittings work as work they should, the heater dries hands to perfection. If the Port authorities in Gibraltar take pride in how they present their town to foreigners, why can't the Port authorities in the city of Cadiz in Spain?

Still in Cadiz,

should have sailed for Gibraltar at 18.30,but a technical hick-up had put paid to that,not that it makes the slightest difference to any-one on board,only extra work and worry for the captain and his team.As the problem is underneath the ship divers had been commissioned and the Lloyds man called [I presume Lloyds the insurance underwriters are involved].The problem has been dealt with and soon the engine should be fired up again,the propellers started.All is dead quiet still and it is almost midnight. So much time spent in Cadiz with so little to show for it thanks to the weather.Oh,we did go out again in the afternoon when the rain had stopped and the sun popped out, but it was a short walk to the nearest little square,everything was closed except some coffee shops and restaurants,as the Spaniards are religious people. We bought some sweets for the children then walked back and sat down in the "free wi-fi" area.It is next to the toilets in the arrival hall and in the departure hall,too.The stench of urine coming from the toilets was utterly disgusting and sickening. The Spaniards do not care about what the foreigners think and feel sitting next to the repugnant stench,this indifference is beyond belief.Is there no-one in charge of the port, no-one controlling what is going on there,if it is clean and decent for people to use. God knows we bring enough revenue to the town.

"The cup of silver"

as Cadiz has been nicknamed due to the glittering ripples of the sea it may be, but my cup of tea it ain't. The hopes were high,but never have I been happier not to have booked a tour than today. Grade four hurricane all night.Winds and gales never worry me on P & O ships,in fact on any ship to date,they all had stabilisers, except the infernal Columbus that should never have been allowed to cross the Atlantic,the stabilisers ensure we are rocked and rolled to the minimum,even though at the time it does not seem so.But rain without respite is something else.And this morning we had the something else.We went into the terminal to take the advantage of free wi-fi [in fact my sister only, I buy the daily package on board],at times the falling rain sounded like a plane raring to ascend.Still, well covered we decided to venture outside.Big mistake.The pavements and the sides of the streets were swimming in water,soon my shoes were soaking wet and I said enough, I am going back.My sister joined me. As it was almost 1, we stopped in the Ligurian for lunch.Avocado and a tomato on warm toast,delicious, my favourite starter to date,corn soup,very nice,stewed beef,cabbage and a dumpling very pleasant, but had the dumpling been bigger and the piece of beef smaller,I would have been happier.The waiter came back to take the dessert order.We chose the walnut gateau with a mandarin and coffee.When the plate was placed in front of me I realised it was my favourite cake at sea to date.I had it three years ago at Christmas and have been singing praises of the deliciousness of this light as feather concoction since.My sister was not as impressed, but then she consumes masses and masses of cakes, biscuits,tarts and gateaux.With four grandchildren to bake for, her two daughters in law compete in coming up with the most extravagant creations. So I am now in my cabin nursing a cup of hot lemon wate.I may be on the way to a chest infection.Several nights ago my throat began to hurt,so in Cartagena I picked up Notus Antitusivo pastils,I take them religiously and am hoping to avoid a visit to a doctor.Bad luck getting this on board of a ship, but then worse things happen. My sister is on the top deck taking photographs and we are hoping it will stop raining and we will be able to go out for a walk again. We sail at 18.30 for Gibraltar.