Wednesday, 3 September 2014

Carry on cruising…

It come to that time of year, again, when thoughts turn to the holiday you booked and paid for so many months ago. The bank account was drained, well Mrs Giant68s bank account was drained (and not by some dodgy Nigerian), Euros have been purchased, along with sun cream, new sunglasses, new suitcases, new swimming cossies, and assorted other things that, when you think about it, you didn’t really need. And then, one Sunday morning, mini giant68 picked us up and took us to the cruise terminal 15 minutes away from home.
Now, you know me as a grumpy bugger, and in queues at airports I could grump for England, so what was I going to be like here? Got out of the car and opened the boot, got the cases out and a bloke put them on a trolley and took ‘em away. So far so good, no queue to check in the bags. We walked into the terminal, had our photo taken for the ships records and 10 minutes later I am sat on the top deck with a beer in my hand, in the sunshine. Wow! No grumpy giant68. Yet.
And that was it for the day. Down to our cabin, sorry, stateroom, unpack, as the bags were delivered straight there, and out for a wander round the ship.
A modern cruise liner is a thing of wonder. There are cinemas, theatres, ice rink, shops, bars, restaurants, cafes, swimming pools, hot tubs, gym, spa… More than enough to keep me happy for a fortnight.
Twelve nights at sea were to follow, soaking up the sun on the deck during the day, when not ashore.. Weather was glorious.
But there was a black cloud hovering on my horizon. And it was all to do with the food. We would go to breakfast in a ‘cafe’ at the stern of the ship. There was a huge vista of sea for us to view while we ate, absolutely marvellous! But then there was the breakfast. A vast servery with every kind of breakfast food that you can imagine, and then some. I love breakfast, best meal of the morning. Every morning I would make a pact with myself that I would only have a light brekkie. And i would, invariably, turn up at the table with a mountain of food on a plate. I am sure I ate my own body weight in bacon every morning. And as my weight was increasing daily the amount of bacon would go up exponentially.
Lunch would be similar. And dinner, at 8:30pm, would follow along similar lines, although this would be delivered by the smiling gourmet assassin that was our waiter. Believe me, the food was a absolute pleasure, from the crispy bacon in the morning to the surf and turf in the evening.
I forced myself to use the stairs to our room on deck 10 every time. I even went in the gym a few times and did some miles on an exercise bike. Otherwise the stone I put on would have been joined by some more. I am currently sporting the spare tyre from the back of  a Massey Ferguson tractor around my waist. My diabetic review is probably going to be soon and I will be lucky if my feet don’t fall off before it. The nurse is going to give me another rollicking. Oh well…
Next time I will tell you about kids, bad parenting, Barbary apes and Portuguese buses.
Till then…       
Giant68 Smile

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