AT SEA, Sat May 25,2013

            Not quite so calm today. Lots of ‘white horses’ in view from the balcony. Not that I’m out there. Just looking through the glass doors which are sprinkled with fine rain drops, and the sky beyond is heavy with rain clouds. You can see rain squalls in the distance on the horizon. I have vague memories from Geography teaching that suggest the horizon is 14/15 miles away.  Bruce says also that we are on the eleventh deck - well above sea level - and that makes a difference too.

            We are maintaining a West North Westerly Course according to the Navigator, writing in the Princess Patter Newssheet for today. He says we are passing North of the Gulf of Carpentaria through the Arafura Sea, which separates us from Indonesia.

            We went to see the doctor yesterday.  No – not sick. Bruce has been worrying about being able to go ashore.  The electric scooter we brought with us is too heavy to be lifted into a bus or taxi, so he’s afraid I am ship-bound unless we think of something else. We thought it was an improvement on my TravelScoot as it would fit in the cabin door.   BUT the corridor is narrow, and when I did manoeuvre in through the cabin door, there it stuck. No moving in or out for us or it as it filled all the entrance space.

            The cabin steward organized for us to park it out in the lift lobby in a spare corner. Last night a supervisor came to see us and arranged for the steward to take it and the charger down to a crew area on level 4, charge it overnight, and bring it back up when he comes up to work at 7.30 in the morning. This works well.

            So the TravelScoot would really have been a better thing to bring as it’s much lighter, and can be folded to fit under a coach or in a car boot. The things you realize when it’s too late.

            So – that doctor’s visit. The doctor - a very pleasant young man who introduced himself as “Paul” - was helpful.  Bruce’s idea was that we may be able to borrow a wheelchair from the ship and take that ashore as it would be more portable. The doctor could authorize this, Bruce had been told.  But it turns out the doctor could only organize the hire of a wheelchair for use on the ship. Never on shore. And it would cost $20 a day. There are almost 100 days left. You do the arithmetic. And it wouldn’t help. We don’t need it on the ship. I have a walking frame and an electric scooter for long distances around the ship. No need to be pushed.

            The Doctor’s next suggestion was that he organize the help of the lady in charge of housekeeping to buy a wheelchair in Singapore for us. Cheaper in the long run.

I’m not that happy to have my 83 year old husband pushing me around the world, but maybe it would be OK for short distances to the coach or taxi etc. The said husband feels happier about all this. So far we’ve heard no more. We are still four days out from Singapore.  So we wait.

Just a bit about the cabin. It’s called a “stateroom” in the brochures. The bed fills the bulk of it. It’s two single beds put together to make a kingsize, and is very comfortable. We have four comfortable pillows and a doona, which I find very hot. We can turn down the temperature in the cabin for the night and my little travel clock tells me that is down to 20 degrees. We cope by hanging out various bits of body, and sleep pretty well.

On my side of the bed there’s a small bedside table, and on the other side  is the desk between the bed and the balcony door. I think the desk where I have my computer is called “the dressing table” and has a hair dryer built in next to the large mirror. Of course all the electric points are American, but I have my conversion plugs with me. There’s a phone on the ‘desk’ and some ship’s ‘literature’. It has three smallish drawers on each side, and a hard square stool under the centre for sitting.

In this space between the bed and the balcony there’s also one bucket- chair (comfortable) where we sort of take turns to read, or one sits in a chair on the balcony, or on the bed. The ‘built-in’ in the other corner holds the small fridge, with the TV and some glasses on top of it.  The rain has cleared for the moment and Bruce has taken his pre-lunch beer onto the balcony, where the air is quite warm.

Back over near the cabin door, there’s a built-in wardrobe with three doors. Two with hanging space, our life jackets, and shoes in the bottom. The third one has the small safe, two shelves and two large basket drawers. We divide the storage space between us, and leave non-essentials in the suitcases under the bed. We manage unexpectedly well.

The bathroom/toilet opposite the wardrobe is small but adequate. The toilet is at a funny angle, and is the American style vacuum flush. On the wall just above the toilet are a couple of rails with hand towels hanging, and I’m nervous what would happen if I accidentally knocked one into the toilet as I flush. Whooosh! And a serious blockage.

The ship makes its own water from the ocean. It is clean and fresh from the taps in the basin. There’s plenty of hot water in the tiny shower with its pull across curtain. All very satisfactory.

So that’s more about life on board ship.

Now it’s off to the buffet on Level 14 for lunch to be in time for the 2pm movie. Today it is ‘Les Miserables’ with Hugh Jackman.  Yesterday it was ‘Anna Karenina’.

It’s a hard life!