Goodbye Drinks

Finally, we managed to get a photo with the main man, Captain Philpott!  Actually we've had 2 different captains and a commodore whilst we've been away, but Captain Philpott has been with us the longest.

Rome, Italy

There had been a great deal of scare-mungering about getting to Rome from our port of arrival, Civitavecchia. The tour desk had been pushing their own transfer because it was deemed that the train from the port to Rome was unreliable and prone to delays, as is typical of Italian public transport. But it didn't appear to deter a great many people, including ourselves who chose to pay the 9 Euros return instead of GBP39.

We took it easy this morning and took a leisurely stroll through Civitavecchia towards the train station. In total there were 5 other cruise ships in port today, this is not something we've been used to so far. Normally we are lucky if we see any others at all. As a result, the queue for tickets was overwhelming the poor cashier who looked like he was more familiar receiving one customer every half an hour. The total cost of our return tickets came to 18 Euros, and in a display of true Italian flare, he threw his hands in the air and nearly fell over the back in his chair as I presented him with a 50 Euro note. I didn't think that was too unreasonable, but he reacted like I'd insulted his mother. I used a credit card instead, which held the queue up a little longer.

Katie had heard Czech voices in the queue and knowing they were not from our ship, struck up a conversation. They had arrived on the really big beast of a ship that had berthed behind us shortly after our own arrival. I'd noticed it (not difficult given its size) and had been cursing that ship earlier because it rocked up late and blocked the WiFi signal I had managed to pick up from the shore. It was an added insult to find out that it was of German origin! It transpired that it carried 4000 passengers and had been sailing the Mediterranean for 2 weeks. Our queue buddies thought it was too big which helps support my earlier thoughts that bigger ships are not always better.

Anyway, tickets acquired and stamped to validate them, we made our way to the equally busy platform for the next train to Rome. By the time it arrived 10 minutes later, we'd started talking ourselves out of going because the chances of getting a seat for the 1.5 hour journey looked. Instead we skipped platforms and got onto the waiting train that departed 10 minutes after the first. It was virtually empty and very comfortable. We knew we wouldn't get much time in Rome itself but at least we were going and on the positive side, we'd get to see all the little Italian stations en route!

Our bargain tickets also allowed us access to the metro all day, so when we got off the train at Roma Termini, we made our way to the closest metro station, took it 2 stops and got out at the Colosseum. Predictably it was busy with fellow tourists, and interspersed with random guides dressed as gladiators and Roman soldiers. There's nothing like milking the unwary tourist. There were also plenty of people selling the usual assorted Chinese made tat, and unusually a disproportionate number also selling tripods for cameras too. A good idea if not a little random. We already have one, so I didn't partake but it didn't stop them trying. It reminded me of the enterprising chap who tried to sell me sun glasses on Pattaya beach as I looked at him through my pair of Oakleys. I just pointed at them and shrugged.

With a tick in the box alongside “Colosseum” and a little less memory card space, we walked up the busy road vaguely heading in the direction of the Pantheon. We passed several other photo-worthy attractions and read up on their significance in the guide book but in all honesty, none of them bought about more than a mildly interested raising of the eyebrows. It was just nice to be walking around in the sunshine. The only annoyance today was the perpetual need to watch ones pockets and bag, for Rome is notorious for pick-pockets and bag snatchers. The crowds afforded them the ideal hunting ground, although we were not victims.

The streets got narrower and the tarmac turned to cobbles as we made our way towards the Pantheon and Piazza Navona. Katie had found a nice cafe that we had marked for lunch and we found it without a problem on the opposite side of the Piazza. It is guide-book famous for its desserts, particularly the ice-cream, so we had Pizza! Apart from the waiter smashing a wine glass on the floor next to our table, we enjoyed an hour just sitting, eating and watching the world go by in the typical Italian way. We watched and listened as tourists stopped to regard the cafe's menu and were serenaded by a multi-lingual owner who told the same story for each new potential patron. It was pleasantly busy but not crowded or rushed. In fact it was a little too laid back at times for we had a train to catch and we wanted to leave plenty of time for it. The restaurant waiter was much happier to accept the 50 Euro note I still possessed and we left our prime piazza-side table to start the hike back to the closest metro station. We passed more photo-worthy attractions on the way and saw many Carabinari and Polizia cars parked up in the narrow streets. At first sight, the police presence in Rome, seemed to be higher than that of Egypt, but on closer inspection it appeared to be just an abundance of their cars. The police themselves were nowhere to be seen!

We arrived back at Roma Termini with 5 minutes to spare before our chosen train departed. It was not essential that we caught this particular one, but we wanted to leave ourselves some room for Italian inefficiency. It transpires that we need not have worried, but as always it felt good to be back within running distance of the ship. We had some time to look around Civitavecchia and found it to be a pleasant port town with a nice promenade along the sea-front and some very browsable shops. I realise that I'm starting to sound like some of the older passengers on our ship whose enjoyment of a town is measured purely on its expanse of flat ground and number of cafe's selling tea. Sorry about that.

After getting back on board with 15 minutes to spare before they started calling our names out, we readied ourselves for dinner. We'd been invited for drinks with Captain (again) but alas, we'd already booked a table in the Rhodes restaurant at the same time. I was quite disappointed that we couldn't go, but the invite had only materialised in our postbox the previous evening, not really giving us sufficient time to re-arrange things. Instead we had invited Rhea, one of the waitresses with whom we've become friendly, to join us to say “Thank you” and “Goodbye”. It was a nice end to the day, and to the last of our ports. The next and last port of call will be Southampton, where it all started, I doubt we'll have much time for sight-seeing there!

Athens, Greece

We arrived back into European waters again but were determined to make the most of our last 2 ports of call, especially as neither of us had been to Athens (or Rome) before. It seems ungrateful, but many people choose to stay on board the ship when it reaches Europe after a world cruise, they seem to get overlooked a little after the other more exotic destinations. We wanted to see the major sights, and so decided to go it alone. Katie bought a good map and I researched where we needed to go. We walked through the port terminal building and bypassed the waiting taxi drivers on our mission to find the train station in Pireaus where we had docked. It was about a 15 minute walk with the water on one side of us, a busy road and small shops on the other. As we walked, I had momentary feelings of the coming spring and of really feeling like we were closer to home again. It was a strange feeling to describe, but I liken it to the first time, around early October when you walk outside, take a deep breath of chilled air and smell the leaves on the ground. You instantly know that Autumn has arrived. A bit like that.

A ticket to central Athens was only 1.40 Euros and took about 20 minutes. It was easy. It's ironic that as we get closer to home, our confidence in finding our way and doing our own thing increases, and our willingness to rely on organised excursions diminishes.

We really only had one aim today, and that was to experience the Acropolis. Anything else was a bonus. With that in mind we walked out of Monastiraki train station, found our bearings with the help of my phone, and set off on foot towards the high point of the city. It only took 30 minutes to find the entrance, it's mostly uphill because The Acropolis stands on it's own high above the rest of the city. It was a very pleasant day, the sun was out but it was colder than we had experienced for a while. Most of the locals were wearing boots and big coats, I guess it was cold for them, but a jumper and long trousers was sufficient for us northern Europeans!

We climbed up the hill to the entrance and by chance met up with Trevor and Jean who were on a disappointing guided tour. Although it shouldn't have been a surprise to bump into someone you know at a major tourist attraction, it was still nice to see them, and slightly self satisfying to hear that our own train journey into Athens had been quicker, less hassle and cheaper than the alternative! They broke away from their group and joined us instead. I'll admit here that I'm not really one for spending too much time walking around museums and looking at old buildings, but as with the pyramids, the Acropolis was something that had to be seen with ones own eyes to fully appreciate it. It's such an iconic structure that no amount of pictures or TV images can give you the same appreciation as standing at its foot. We soaked up the atmosphere, admired the great views of the city beneath us and got shot blasted by the dust being whipped up by the strong wind. It was the combination of that wind and the crowds of people that put a stop to our photo taking, and after an hour or so we descended down from the plateau to the relative warmth and shelter of the little streets below.

Making our way back to the market square and the train station where we first arrived, we found hoards of people eating delicious looking kebabs out of the paper. We asked a local where he got it and followed his finger to find a small serving hatch/window attached to a restaurant. 2 Euros bought us one of the tastiest lunches we've had. I could have eaten another two, but the prospect of buying bigger trousers deterred me!

We walked up a narrow shopping street, small shops and market stalls sold a few nice locally made clothes and the usual tourist fare. We headed further up the road towards the parliament building and were pleasantly surprised to stumble upon the hourly changing of the guard. The ceremony is much like many others, but the costumes of these particular guards certainly makes them a much photographed sight. The men chosen for this profession are the most highly trained, capable fighting machines that Greece owns, yet they dress them up in skirts, tights and clogs with pompoms on the front. I hope they pay them well. The dance they performed for our videoing pleasure was equally amusing, I don't know how they keep a perfectly straight face.

We found Athens to be very relaxing to wonder around. People we met in the shops were very chatty and friendly, and the whole city seemed to be at ease with itself. We liked it a lot more than we were expecting to, and nothing pleases us more than having our expectations exceeded!

Egypt

After making it safely through the Gulf of Aden with only 1 sighting of a pirate vessel (which was already being tailed by a warship), we made our way up the Red Sea, past the coastlines of Yemen, Saudi Arabia and Sudan. We made 3 stops in Egypt over the last 3 days but until a week ago, there was still some debate over whether we would actually be stopping. We are still able to watch the news when satellite coverage permits, so we were fully aware of the revolution in Egypt, and the vote that took place while we were ashore on Saturday. There was a big question mark over our planned trip to Cairo in particular, and indeed our planned excursion on Sunday was altered slightly to avoid Tahrir square, the centre point of the protests last month.

So it was expected but still a little unusual to us, that when we went ashore in Safaga, we boarded a coach and travelled in convoy with 20 other coaches, and had an armed police guard at the front and the rear of the convoy. This has apparently been the norm for a number of years, but I'm not sure if it made us feel more or less safe! It was the same on our final day in Egypt when we had a guard on the coach itself, and heavily armed guards visible at all the major tourist attractions. According to our guide on the 3rd day, following the revolution, a great many police resigned (because they were no longer receiving bribes to supplement their wages), leaving the army to police the streets. Their presence was immediately noticeable, with tanks being positioned on all the roads around the ports we visited and indeed in most built up areas. It was not something I'd seen before.

For our 3 consecutive days in Egypt we docked in Safaga (for trips to the Valley of the Kings), Sharm El Sheik (for trips to the beach!) and Suez (for trips to Cairo and the Pyramids).

Safaga is a small port in the south of the country and could be called "The gateway to The Valley of the Kings". For those who have been following our blog, you may already be smiling in knowledge that this means we had to sit on a coach for a great deal of the day! However, regardless of how you arrive into Egypt, and where you arrive to, there will always be a hefty transfer to see the main sights. There is not much going on in Safaga itself, so many people decided to make the trip.

Our coach convoy took us for 2 hours through the desert and towards the city of Luxor and the Valley of the Kings where a great number of ancient tombs have been discovered, including the most famous, that of Tutankhamun. We visited 3 of the tombs, those of Ramesses I, Ramesses III and Ramesses VI. There is not much to see from the outside, you must walk deep into the hillside, often descending down steps or a steep ramp passage to arrive at the burial chamber. Inside, every inch of wall and ceiling is covered with drawings and carvings, the colours, still the original ones, are very much intact despite being 3000+ years old. It's just a shame that more damage has been caused in the last 30 years by careless tourists and the elements, than has occurred in the previous 35 centuries when the tombs were sealed. You can't take pictures inside the tombs because the flash lights deteriorate the colours - Either that or it takes money from the locals who offer photo books for sale. We bought a book for US$2 from one of the many persistent sellers all around the complex....after he'd followed us for a good 10 minutes. It became funny to us, but it didn't stop him. I'd just like to say that I wasn't the one who opened the conversation or perpetuated it!

Although it sounds mean, we were becoming used to batting away the people trying to sell us something. India and Vietnam were bad, but Egypt was on another level of persistence. It would take the patience of a saint and all day and night to politely refuse the advances of all the people that approached us, called over to us, and generally tried to grab our attention. Unless you've experienced the hassle you get at a tourist attraction in Egypt, what I'm about to say might appear rude or ungrateful but it is a necessary fact of life to get on in these countries. My moment of enlightenment came in Pattaya, Thailand. Katie was swimming in the sea as I sat on the beach. As beach sellers offered me sunglasses, necklaces and fruit, I found that a simple shake of the head was enough to have them pass me by. This wouldn't have worked in Egypt, but the principal was learnt. As our guide in Cairo explained, "No thanks" is the start of a conversation, and "No" is a word that has absolutely no meaning. Saying nothing is the best defence against them, but it's more difficult for a polite Englishman to carry off when someone is trying to attract your attention by standing in front of you and calling to you for the 3rd time. We often had to physically side step around these people whilst completely blanking their questions about where we were from, and whether we liked Egypt, just to allow ourselves to continue enjoying the places we were seeing. Only once did I have to stop dead in my tracks, turn to face the guy, look him in the eye and tell him what I thought of his merchandise. Katie physically moved a young boy out of the way as he tried to sell something to Jean as she was having her picture taken. It's quite sad, and it sounds mean, but believe me any sympathy quickly vanishes and it doesn't take long to reach this level of frustration. The treasures that Egypt has to offer a tourist are amazing, but in a lot of places, it's impossible to spend a quiet moment in contemplation, because it is taken away by these people. I don't know why the tourism authorities don't do something about the problem.

After a lovely lunch in Luxor, we headed to Karnak and to The Temple of Karnak, the largest temple complex in the world. While my knowledge of steep funicular railways might be growing, I'm going to argue with this particular claim. The complex covers an area of 250 acres but (luckily) you can't walk around it all. Building on such a scale is not surprising considering the experience gained from the older pyramids. Our guide for the day, like all other tour guides in Egypt had a BSc in Egyptology and was very knowledgeable about the site. She allowed us time to explore on our own and although it was the end of the day and our appreciation was waining, I embraced the opportunity to get some good abstract photos as the sun was low in the sky and the light was great.

We walked back to the coach at around 5.30pm, through another set of market stalls and hawkers and onto the coach. We were told to be prompt because we had to meet up with the rest of the convoy at 6pm, and a curfew in Luxor after dark meant we would have to spend the night there if we were not already out of the city. I'm not sure how true that was, we couldn't verify it because we made it to the meeting point with time to spare. We arrived back at the ship at around 9.30pm, the latest return from an excursion so far and felt pretty tired and ready for bed.

Sharm El Sheikh, Egypt

We'd sailed overnight, in proper cruise fashion, to Sharm El Sheikh; a destination known worldwide as a great place for scuba diving and snorkeling, and essentially a big tourist town. We met up with Trevor and Jean at 8am this morning because after our strenuous day yesterday and the one to come tomorrow, we'd agreed that we would spend the day on the beach in nearby Na'ama Bay, about 5 miles down the road from where we had docked. With snorkels and flip flops packed, we marched across the vast quayside area and found a taxi minibus which we shared with a few fellow passengers going in the same direction. Jean had been here before and knowing the hotels, had kindly pre-booked a day pass for us in the Hilton Fayrouz. It meant we had access to a room and all the resort facilities for the day, it was perfect! We checked in, dumped our bags in the room and headed to the huge private beach. The hotel/resort itself was huge and really nice, a world away from yesterday. It had little one story villas/rooms, swimming pools, open air bars and comfy looking restaurants with meandering pathways connecting them, all ultimately leading to the beach. After we'd settled in, we grabbed our snorkels and headed a little further around the bay to an area which looked promising. While the water was a little colder than we would have liked, once we were accustomed, the reward was amazing. You might remember me trying to describe how each time we've snorkeled, we've had a different experience. This one was just off the beach (actually we walked out on a floating pontoon) but the water was shallow enough to stand in, and deep enough to not risk scraping yourself on the rocks and coral. Before we even entered the water, you could see the bright colours of the fish, but submersed, a new world opened up before us. There were so many brightly coloured fish, large and small, that they couldn't help but come up close to you. For the first time, we even saw a decent size ray settling himself on the sea bed and kicking up a storm of stones and sand. It's difficult to explain how being in the water just a few feet from a ray, is infinitely more involving than seeing one through the glass of an aquarium or a boat. We were always popping our heads above water to enthuse about what we were seeing and then ducking back in to get more of the same. There were also a few jellyfish floating around, and after my experience in Hawaii, and without the attractive suits at The Great Barrier Reef, we used them as the excuse to get out. Instead we stepped gingerly over to the shore and peered down at the wealth of life living in the small tidal pools at the edge of the beach. I've never seen so many pretty shells all in one place. I tried to pick one up, but found that they were already in use! A closer inspection revealed that they were all moving around, tiny little legs poking out to propel themselves in the water. We also found starfish hiding under rocks, the closer and longer you looked, the more became visible. All this in an tiny area, no bigger than the size of a sheet of A3 paper.

Walking back to our area of the beach we stopped off again for a quick dip, and decided it was time for lunch. We used the room to change and walked to the main commercial area along a pedestrian promenade with restaurants and outdoor cafes either side. We found a nice beach side restaurant and had a fairly inexpensive meal. Heading back to the beach after lunch, we had more time to snorkel right in front of where we were sitting but it soon came time to shower, change and grab a taxi back to the port. We joked about spending the next couple of weeks in that resort, we felt very relaxed there, and it didn't appear busy. We didn't get a chance to ask any locals how tourism had been during and after the revolution, but our guide on the 3^rd day was very passionate about thanking us for being here and supporting them. We didn't let on that it was really out of our hands, but we were genuinely pleased to feel so welcomed.

Back on board, we sailed away and watched the sun set below the horizon from on deck, it was a great end to the day, although we couldn't party yet because we had to get an early night.

Suez - Pyramids and Cairo

The alarm went off at 3.20am this morning as we had to meet at 4am in the Palladium. It was a bit early for lollipops but after 30 minutes we headed hand in hand to the tender boats, many of the younger passengers including most of the theatre company had their pillows too! This morning, Arcadia had anchored off the coast of Egypt near to the city of Suez. The minority of us who were taking a tour today (only about 250), were tendered, in convoy, to shore and then Arcadia was continuing through the Suez Canal, to meet up with us, 150KM north in Port Said at the Mediterranean end of the canal. A few days previous, those of us who were booked on a tour were given the opportunity to cancel free of charge, because different foreign offices were offering different travel advice regarding travel to Egypt. The Australian advice was not to travel, while the British advice was to the contrary. I think a lot of people cancelled because they didn't want to take the “risk” but we considered it because we didn't realise that by going on a tour we would miss the transit of the Suez Canal. After weighing up the options we still decided that the preference was to see the pyramids. The Suez is not as exciting as the Panama Canal because there are no locks, and nothing other than desert to see either side of the ship. I think it was a good decision in the end, but at 4am as we bobbed around in a cramped tender boat in the dark, I had to keep reminding myself that we were in the middle of experiencing an adventure! The trip ashore would have taken no more than 15 minutes under normal circumstances, but we had to wait for everyone to be ready, and then follow the pilot boat into the harbour. It was a slow process, not helped by the fact that when we arrived at our preferred harbour mooring point, it appeared that the quay was too high too allow us to disembark the small tenders. We moved over to a different side of the harbour and watched the lights of all the waiting coaches, also move to meet us. The first tender finally disembarked and then, unusually, we moored alongside that tender and walked through it to get to a shabby set of crumbling steps to take us up to the quayside. By the time we boarded the coaches it was starting to get light, and just as we watched the sun setting yesterday evening, we watched it rise above the horizon again today - I think that is a first for us. We wondered to ourselves whether this early morning chaos was the result of a disheartened harbour workforce or simply the lack of a decent bribe. Either way, it seems to me that the intelligent, powerful and skillful ancient Egyptians lost their way somewhere down the evolutionary line!

The coach convoy took us 2 hours towards Cairo and Giza where we had breakfast and then drove up to the pyramids of Giza. Despite my earlier reservations, people were very friendly, and similar to our first day, children along our entire route, waved at our bus windows relentlessly. Even the adults did sometimes too. We returned the gesture whenever we could. As we drove along the streets of Giza, the tallest of all the pyramids became visible above the buildings and became more and more impressive as we got closer to it. We parked up right beside it amongst the many other coaches, cars and vans. It was busy but this was deemed a quiet day. With the advice about the local sellers still ringing in our ears the doors of the coach opened, everyone took a deep breath and filed down the steps of safety and into the crowds of waiting vultures. Our ignoring tactics seemed to work mostly, only Trevor needed to use his arm in order to clear a way forward, and I put myself between them and Katie to usher us both along. She has a tendency to hang around at the back which results in getting picked off, in turn requiring a back-track and a rescue operation! :-)

The Pyramids themselves were indeed very impressive, both from the perspective of their sheer size and their accuracy of construction. We were stood right underneath Cheops' pyramid, the tallest of all of them at 146m and about 500 meters away stood Chephren. It looked even taller, but was simply built on higher ground. As a structure that was built 4600 years ago, it remained the tallest man made structure on earth until the likes of the Eiffel Tower came along in the 1800s.

It's amazing that they are still standing, not least because they are so old, but also because of the relatively relaxed attitude that the Egyptians seem to take towards preserving them. Unlike the valley of the kings, Cheops' pyramid is one of the seven wonders of the ancient world, yet it's still possible to touch and even climb on the structure. Small signs that say No Climbing are dotted around, but nothing more persuasive. Our next stop was at the Sphinx, still classed as the largest statue in the world and then onto Sakkara. We drove through some horrendous traffic and some even more horrendous scenes of mess. In places, rubbish clogged canals and waterways made Vietnam look clean. Our guide seemed ashamed and tried to explain the problem, but it really did make parts of Cairo look terrible.

It took us 3 hours to reach Port Said where we were to board Arcadia again and it was getting properly cold again. We lined up to go through the normal embarkation process as the cold wind took any remaining heat out of the air. I'm not expecting sympathy, but that was the first time we've felt the cold like that since we left Southampton, and as if we needed it, another reminder that we were getting closer to home again.

Ship's Clocks

"This is the Officer of the watch speaking from the bridge, the time is now 12 'O Clock Noon". This is the announcement that we get everyday on board Arcadia. It is proceeded by eight rings of the ships bell to signify the time. Although we'd heard this everyday since boarding, we didn't know what the significance of the 8 rings was. Now we know that one ring is sounded for every half an hour of time passed since the last change of watch. It's one of the many nautical "traditions" that happen everyday but until they are explained, remain a mystery.
As with all world travel, we have to pass through different time zones and must arrive in a port with our watches and our internal clocks suitably adjusted to that local time. Every now and then the official time on board (the ships clock) is retarded by 1 hour at 2am. Whilst at sea, the time on board may not be the actual time of the countries we are passing but we must align ourselves ready for docking. When this happens, we get a reminder in the daily newspaper and also a card placed in our cabin on the night of the change. It often happens on the night before we arrive in a port so that we get an extra hour in bed, and wake up feeling refreshed! What actually happens is that when we know we have an extra hour, we just stay later in the bar! There has been one occasion when we moved forward one hour at Noon. This was after Vietnam but before Malaysia, because Malaysian time is aligned with Hong Kong for historical financial reasons. It happened at Noon so as not to lose an hour of sleep - not a major deal for passengers, but staff and crew work long hours.
As we are travelling east to west, there came a point where we had subtracted 11 hours from GMT. This happened between Samoa and Fiji in the Pacific and obviously we couldn't continue to subtract an hour all the way around or we'd arrive back in Southampton in the past! This is where the International Date Line comes in. We crossed this on the night of Thursday 3rd February and went to bed on Thursday evening, and woke up on Saturday morning. For us, Friday 4th February just didn't exist. Of course, at that point, we went from GMT -11 straight to GMT +10 and since then have continued subtracting an hour every now and then until we return home. As I publish this article, we are GMT +3.5 hours. The half an hour extra occurred before we arrived in Mumbai when the clocks were retarded just 30 minutes to fall in line with Indian time.
The good thing is that we're not really feeling any adverse effects from all these time changes, they are so gradual that our internal clocks are adjusting just fine. You'll be delighted to hear that our regular time of awakening remains the crack of noon!

Pirate Country

Update: An interesting BBC Radio 4 programme discusses the topic of pirate activity in this reagion and validates some of the information we were given on board Arcadia. http://www.bbc.co.uk/programmes/b01095mf 

When we left Mumbai, we started the last leg of our world voyage, and we also entered the Arabian Sea, setting a course for Egypt. Unfortunately, this also means we have entered waters that are renowned for pirate activity, especially as we reach the infamous Gulf of Aden just off the north coast of Somalia. Over the last week we've seen an increase in activity on the ship with regards to "preventative measures" and this culminated yesterday in a full pirate drill for both passengers and crew. You might think like we did that the likely hood of anyone having the audacity to try and board a huge cruise ship containing 2500 people would be remote, but the precedent has already been set. Only in January of this year, a Saga cruise ship was "chased" by a pirate vessel, but out-ran it. The story made it to the UK newspapers and you'll find it if you Google for it. In total so far this year, there have been 20 attempted attacks in this area, 9 of which have been successful!
So you can understand why P&O, if not their insurance company, take this sort of threat very seriously. We are subject to several preventative measures whilst in this area for the next 5 days, and we attended a very interesting talk this morning, given by a Royal Navy Lieutenant who has spent 7 months in the area performing intelligence gathering. He is on board to offer advice to the crew and I thought you might be interested to hear about it all.
Our main defense against an attack is the fact that we can do 23 knots which is too fast for the small boats that the pirates use. Add to that the huge wake at the back of Arcadia, and a small boat would not stand a chance. We have been doing this speed since leaving Mumbai, and will continue to do so whilst in this area, provided nothing breaks! The talk this morning gave us insight into the tactics used too. Usually a larger "mother ship" is employed to tow smaller boats and to carry supplies and fuel. Once a target is acquired, the smaller boats will be used to try to board it by using ladders at the back of the ship. Again, Arcadia has an advantage here because she has a 6 meter freeboard (the height above water before any deck opening). Nevertheless, the openings on the lowest open deck all have grills around them now, the back of the ship has razor wire around it, and the outside of that deck is completely closed from dusk until dawn. Water hoses and LRADs (Long Range Audio Devices) which I've seen positioned around the rear of the lowest outside deck, provide a non-lethal way of discouraging any approach and these use directional sound waves to make it "uncomfortable" for anyone within range.
We're also keeping a low profile at night by turning off any unnecessary deck lights (great for star gazing) and being asked to keep cabin lights to a minimum and curtains closed whenever possible. Add to all these things the fact that we using an "internationally agreed transit corridor" backed and supported by the UN and enforced by 25 warships and I think that we should be ok! The problem, according to our Royal Navy Lieutenant is that the area is so large, and the waters in which they operate is expanding every year, that 250 warships would be needed to patrol properly. As it stands right now, it might take 2 hours for one of them to reach a particular position where it was needed.
Still our pirate drill yesterday told us that we have to return to our cabins and sit on the floor outside them in the corridor should we be instructed by the bridge to do so. We're not to sit against the doors or near windows because of armed pirates. As was explained to us in a very matter of fact manner, Rocket Propelled Grenades are used to cause a distraction and potentially a fire that diverts attention and crew resources away from a potential boarding attempt.
It begs the obvious question; if so much money and resources are being directed to keeping this stretch of water safe, then why is it still a problem, when we're fighting a handful of people in small fibreglass boats? From what we were told this morning and offering my own opinion here, it seems that the so called "Rules of Engagement" are the biggest thing holding it back. These rules say that the Navy can't shoot to kill a pirate unless he has shot at them first. It says they can't do anything to step in, unless they see them climbing the ladder at the back of the ship. The same rules are adhered to by the UK, US, French and Spanish forces, but you should have heard the cheer that went up on hearing that the Russian Navy are somewhat less forgiving!

Mumbai, India

It was like coming home for the day to a large proportion of the staff on board Arcadia today. Our table waiter, Girish was meeting up with family and our cabin steward, Antonio who comes from Goa met up with his wife and children who had travelled from Goa to see him for a single day, the first time in 6 months. Jennifer, a girl who works on reception was meeting with her sister, and gave us so much useful advice about things to do. It's not her job to do that, but she told us "We MUST enjoy Mumbai!". This same story was repeated again and again for many staff. Instead of them asking us if we had a good day ashore, we were asking about their day and listening to their stories. The countdown to our arrival here started a long time ago!
It was also with nervous anticipation of a different kind that Katie and I experienced on the days leading up to our call in Mumbai. On the advice of a few, we had cancelled our organised trip a couple of weeks ago and instead had decided to go it alone, along with Trevor and Jean of course, our travelling buddies. Without them, I'm not sure I would have the confidence to tackle the city, or get the most out of it. As with many other places, we'd had our expectations set by Jo at her port talk, a repeat of which we'd watched on the TV in the cabin. She detailed the things we were likely to see and experience, including the things that as westerners we would find most disagreeable. I find it strange that Jo obviously feels the need to include this information as a warning to those who are expecting flowers and perfume at every port. One would have thought that, as people who have chosen to travel and see the world, our fellow passengers would be an open minded and relatively worldly-wise bunch, but it seems there is still a few who need to be told for their own safety! So rightly or wrongly, we were going to see Mumbai ourselves, I'm really glad we did, but it's easy for me to say that now as I sit on the balcony crossing the Arabian sea. We've had many "adventures" on this trip, but they don't become "adventures" until you're sat recounting them with a cold beer in your hand! (Right now, I have a coffee, not a beer..yet!)
The 4 of us had done more planning than usual for the day. We knew what we wanted to see, where most of it was, and how we would get between each place. We'd also researched the likely cost of a taxi to take us the places we wanted to go to. Katie was assigned as chief negotiator, I was in charge of navigation, Trevor was security officer with a secondary mandate for navigation and Jean was looking after our nutritional and beverage requirements! We did all this as a bit of a joke, and predictably, all these roles fell apart the moment we stepped ashore at 8am.
We were welcomed by a gathering of local Hindu ladies who dutifully placed a Bindi onto everyone's forehead as they disembarked. We walked into a large cruise terminal and changed a few Pounds for Rupees as the nearest ATM wasn't apparent. We'd been advised and had agreed amongst ourselves, to walk outside of the port gates in order to get a taxi, because it would be cheaper, but that didn't stop half a dozen drivers vying for our business. Chief negotiator Katie tried her luck anyway and was quoted $40 for the day, way too much. In fact, we didn't even want a taxi for the whole day, we were intent on seeing 3 things initially, but convincing the waiting drivers that it was those 3 things, and those 3 things alone that we would pay for, was our first challenge. The moment we stepped from the relative calm of the port and into the real world, Katie's role as negotiator went out the window. We should have realised that the drivers would only want to speak with Trevor. As we trailed behind, trying to stay out of the hustle and bustle, and with the negotiation struggling a little, Katie was picked off to start another conversation with another taxi! Add to this a couple of ladies who were following us and begging for money, you can maybe imagine the chaos. And it's not that we weren't expecting this either, this chaos was anticipated and was the very reason we had clear objectives and a price in mind. I can't imagine the arguments or overcharging that would occur for those who were less well prepared.
Price and destination firmly agreed and confirmed several times, we jumped into a car and realised we'd managed to haggle our way into possibly the smallest and oldest taxi in the whole of Mumbai. Katie, Jean and I were all sat in the back, having ample leg room, but bent double to keep our heads from tearing a whole in the roof lining. Said roof lining was probably the most highly polished part of the car, decades of unwary passengers before us using their hair to buff it to a shine with every bump and corner! Our introduction to life on the streets of Mumbai started almost immediately with a lesson on traffic light etiquette. If the people in Vietnam were taught to drive by the Sampan Boat drivers in Hong Kong, then the Mumbai taxi drivers were taught by the Vietnamese. Red lights were more of a suggestion than an instruction and lane or no lane, any spare piece of tarmac was fair game in order to further ones progress. After 30 seconds of stunned silence, Javeed, our driver looked over his shoulder to check we were still in the back seat and said "My Indian passengers are not usually so quiet". It made us laugh, but he didn't stop looking at us until he had solicited a more comprehensive response, I think it was our wide eyes and open mouths that made him turn around again just in time to avoid a pedestrian.
If motorbikes were the transport of choice in Vietnam, then the black and yellow taxi was the Mumbai equivalent. 70,000 of them exist in Mumbai alone, luckily we saw more of them parked at the side of the road than actively carrying passengers! That's not to say the streets weren't busy, but with it being a Saturday I think we avoided the worst of the traffic. Apart from the cars there were people walking/running, bikes, people pushing 2 wheeled carts amongst all the traffic, and randomly goats and cows on the side of the road, sometimes crossing the road. There didn't seem to be any particular priority given to any one group of road users, but cars are harder and move faster and because of those reasons alone, they were treated with most caution. They didn't really treat each other with such caution though. We didn't bump or get bumped, but passed multiple times within centimeters of others; cars and people, horns were used at every opportunity, no perceivable structure as was the case in Vietnam. Katie warned Trevor not to rest his arm on the window sill for fear of it being used as a bumper, such was the proximity to the car next to us. Nowhere have we been so far, where I have felt the need to describe our first half an hour in the country as an assault on the senses. It seems a overly dramatic and cliched phrase, but the noise, and smells combined with the feeling that you wanted to look everywhere at once, meant that we were truly bombarded with "new" in every direction.
We had been informed that our first stop would take us anything from 40 minutes to 1.5 hours to reach, luckily it was actually only about 30. "Dobi Ghat" is a huge, open air laundry that services Mumbai residents. For roughly 10 Rupees, (13 pence) you can have the dirt literally smashed out of a shirt on a stone slab, rinsed, dried, ironed and returned to your door the next day. 90% of clothes get returned to the correct household, which still leaves 1 in 10 to go missing or find a new owner! Not too bad considering there is no automation at any point in the collection, washing or delivery process. There were rows and rows of concrete baths filled with murky water, and hundreds of lines full of clothes and sheets drying in the open air. Stood overlooking the area on the steps of a bridge, we even saw the distinctive green scrubs from the hospital, operating theatre masks and all, drying in the sun. An organised tour from the ship turned up just as we were leaving, I wonder if the locals mind their laundry being used as a tourist attraction.
On our way to our next destination, the Hanging Gardens, Javeed drove us back the way we had come, through some desperately poor looking areas, and then through some of the apparently richest parts of Mumbai. The chasm between the 2 extremes is difficult to understand, let alone describe. Along the way we passed Chowpatty Beach, not a place for swimming (the water is described in our literature as "highly unsanitary") and a cricket ground which was in full use.
As we made our way to the final part of our tour, we passed close to the house where Ghandi used to live. The fact that we had spent so long convincing Javeed that we only wanted to see 3 things, and had agreed to pay him as such, meant that I felt a little uneasy about asking him to make an unplanned stop. Still he was very accommodating and so we spent a few minutes there, bumping into others from the ship too. Our final stop was to the Gateway of India, but not before Javeed had convinced us to take a quick look into a "very nice shop" probably owned by a friend or at least a commission paying associate! It was indeed a very nice shop, and luckily we were not the only people to have been taken there. I say luckily because it meant that the owners attention was not solely directed towards us and we could browse at our own pace, and walk out unscathed. We paid and thanked Javeed for his tour and walked over to the Gateway of India. This place might be familiar to many if you saw it in a picture. The large cobbled area in front of the monument is recognisable because it affords a clear view of the Taj Mahal Hotel, and is where a lot of the reporting of the Mumbai terrorist attacks in took place. Those attacks focused on the Taj Mahal Hotel itself and walking around the square opposite, remembering those news pictures, was quite a sobering experience for me. Because of these shootings, there is a big armed police presence in the area, with armoured cars and solid barriers all around the perimeter. There are metal detectors in the newly created single entrance and exit to the square although they appeared to be more of a visual deterrent, I didn't hear a single "beep" from any of them. We spent some time there, walking around the monument, watching the hundreds of boats and passengers coming and going from the small concrete quayside and generally soaking up the atmosphere. We watched as visitors and locals alike took pictures of their families, ice cream sellers sold wrapper-less lollies from a tin bucket lined with newspaper, and a crowd of people who were sat on the floor in the shade of the monument, tucked into their picnics like we would do in a beach resort in England.
We walked across the square and into the Taj Mahal Hotel. The hotel was one of the places recommended to us. We passed through working metal detectors this time and sent our bags through x-ray machines. I doubt these were in place until recently. Except for the decor inside, you could have been in any large, expensive hotel in the world. As we walked around the lobby area and through into a grand staircase in search of the "Sea Lounge", it was difficult to understand, yet chilling to imagine how 6 people could run around this beautiful hotel, firing indiscriminately at staff and guests. Despite the ornate surroundings, the security at the door, the and the guards on almost every corner, I felt strangely exposed, not a feeling I've ever had before. We were planning to have a drink and use the facilities here, but the calm of the Sea Lounge meant that we decided on an early lunch. I'm glad we did in the end, we didn't see anywhere suitable all afternoon.
Out of the cool and calm of the hotel, we were a stones throw from Colaba Causeway, a renowned shopping area and so headed on foot towards it. Market stalls lined the pavement selling an assortment of things that didn't interest us today. Maybe it was a combination of the heat, the crowded street or the fact that you couldn't browse without being accosted that turned us off, but we came away with nothing more than a sweat and a more ingrained memory of the poverty and dirt.
Consulting the map, we walked towards the Prince of Wales museum, and satisfied ourselves with it from the outside, there was no desire to pay to walk around inside. Further up the road, we found artists selling their work on the street and cows tied to the railings at the side of the road. We continued our walk past the Bombay Stock Exchange, where the Indian stock brokers were queuing for lunchtime food in the streets. We were told as we wondered into the area, that photography was not allowed for security reasons, the evidence for the introduction of the rule was still clear to see in the mangled remains of a building opposite the exchange.
Although we had no clear plan anymore, we knew we were heading back in the general direction of the ship and it was around this time that Katie and I decided we'd seen enough. The temperature, we learned in retrospect, was over 40 degrees by this time although the humidity wasn't nearly as bad as Singapore. I was feeling dehydrated and so we split from Trevor and Jean and headed back towards the ship, stopping to buy a big bottle of water on the way from a reputable looking shop. This was the only assurance you had that the water inside the bottle had been put there in the factory! It cost us 17 Rupees, about 22 Pence. We walked another 10 minutes before reaching the port gates again and headed inside after being offered various things, most of which we would not dare bring back on board! Arriving back in the terminal building, I looked for any signs of WiFi but was disappointed so with plenty of time to kill we headed upstairs to the duty free shop. Up there, amongst the beers and spirits we found Jason and Evan, 2 South African guys who earned their living from sailing other folks around on their yacht. They were stuck in Mumbai Port for a few days as the paying customers explored the city. They kindly shared their beers with us and we drank to Evan's birthday! We must have been in that small duty free shop for a couple of hours listening to their experiences and plans and learning more about the infamous waters into which we were all heading. A great end to the day! If you're reading this guys, maybe see you when you get home! Stay safe.
Back on board, and with the postcards posted, we grabbed (another) beer and headed up to join the deck party underway in Aquarius. I know I felt quite physically and mentally tired after the day but there was a good atmosphere up there already and as we relaxed, we shared our experiences with others. Despite the warnings, there were plenty who disliked Mumbai simply because of how dirty it was. We can say that we liked Sydney because it was somewhere we could imagine living, but we certainly can't describe Mumbai like that. To say you don't like somewhere because it's not like home, I find quite shallow. We liked our day for different reasons. While you can't help but be affected by the poverty, the begging and the dirt, it doesn't take much to see the city as a whole, for all it's good and bad points and to enjoy the fact that it is so different from anywhere we've been before. You may have seen an advert for Indian tourism on the TV, the strap line is "Incredible India" and if Mumbai is representative of India as a whole (I realise that's a big, "if") then I'd say that strap line was pretty accurate.

Ko Samui, Thailand

With only 250 miles to steam (nautical term) between Laem Chabang and Ko Samui, we arrived the next morning, just like on a normal cruise! This was another tender port, and we had to be back on board by 4.30pm which didn't give us a great deal of time. We got up early and queued for tender tickets. Katie was about 10th in line and she started queuing an hour before the tickets were due to be issued. You can see her surf board at the front of the queue in the pictures below. Once we were anchored and disembarkation had started, we hung around the area which led down to the tenders and, with the help of one of our crew friends, managed to squeeze onto the very first tender to leave the ship. It was actually only supposed to be for an organised tour but there were seats available, so we took them!

I don't like to moan about things, it doesn't seem right, but there does appear to be a problem with getting people quickly and efficiently off the ship. We spoke to people today who didn't get ashore until noon despite getting their ticket at 9.15am, and heard of others who had a grand total of 1.5 hours ashore. It's quite understandable that tempers were getting frayed, and there will be many a comment in the questionnaire at the end of this leg of the cruise. Never has the phrase, "You snooze, you lose" been more appropriate!

There were 8 of us who had grouped together to do the same thing today. 6 of us from our dinner table, and 2 others, Phill and Ollie who we know. There is not a lot to do on this small island, apart from visit the beach. So we did. In contrast to Vietnam, there were scores of waiting locals ready to take your money in exchange for some vehicular based service. We escaped the super keen ones and made it safely to the end of the line where we found a chap willing to take all 8 of us to Lamai Beach for US$30. The normal mode of transport on the island, was the same as we found in St Thomas a few years ago, a converted pick up truck with bench seats and a roof. We piled in, and he took off across the island. These trucks normally pick people up as they go along, you pay your money and you get dropped at your destination when it feels convenient for the driver. The other passengers on the "bus" might all get to their destinations before you, regardless of the order in which you boarded. It's typical island transport for those who don't wear a watch. However, this one, was ours alone. It took about 30 minutes to reach the beach, and only another 5 to find a shady spot underneath some palm trees, lay out our towels and smother ourselves in sun cream. Katie and I are not sun-worshipers and so we have discovered "P20" which is an all day lotion which seems to work well, even after being in the sea.

The sea itself wasn't as clean as we had hoped or been told it would be. It certainly wasn't snorkeling territory, so they stayed disappointingly in the bag. We did venture in though, it was lovely and warm, and although it got quite deep, quite quickly, it was visibly cleaner, further out. We messed around in the sea and on the beach all morning. Some of us sunbathing, some of us (Ollie) on his perpetual hunt for a white dinner jacket. They are not hard to come by, since Hong Kong it seems like the normal way to buy a suit is to have it made for you, but as they are all made to order they require a minimum of 4 hours from measuring to completion, and we didn't have that much time. Ollie came away disappointed again.

Katie's suggestion for a place to go for lunch was widely accepted and required us to walk all of 50 meters along the beach. It was a modest restaurant, and we sat around one big table and had the best lunch time meal I think any of us have had on any port of call. Local beers (Chang) were served in polystyrene coolers and the food was lovely. I had a sweet and sour dish, Katie had a Thai green curry. It came to about 600 Baht per couple, about 12 pounds.

With not much time for anything in the afternoon, we jumped back on the bus-van-truck which we'd "booked" to pick us up at 3 and having the promise of another US$30 to take us back, the driver was more than happy. At US$15 per couple both ways, it was a mutually beneficial arrangement and again, much cheaper than the organised tour to the beach.

The queue at the dock for the tenders was massive. It appeared everyone had left it until the last tender time before heading back, not something that is normal in our experience. I think it was down to the fact that a lot of people had not long been ashore, and I was happy to wait a while in the line if it sent a small message of dissatisfaction on behalf of those people. It did of course make us late leaving, but the consequences of that are yet to be felt. I'm glad we got up early though!

Laem Chabang, Thailand

After a long run of tender ports, we were glad to walk off the ship in our first of 2 ports in Thailand. The main attraction of coming here was it's relative closeness to Bangkok, but like Hanoi, the majority of the day would be taken up sitting on a coach, and so we decided to take advantage of a free shuttle service to the nearby town of Pattaya. Our plan for the day was to spend the morning at an "Elephant Village" and then see some of Pattaya in the afternoon. The shuttle gave us a quick orientation tour and then dropped us at a hotel in the centre of the town, one street back from the main beach. As we're getting closer to the equator again (in the Northern Hemisphere) it's getting progressively warmer and more humid. Today, the temperature started at about 26 and rose to about 32 degrees with very high humidity that constantly made you feel like you needed a shower!

First stop, a bank to get some money out. The Thai Baht is not the most stable of currencies, and so the ship doesn't carry any to change on board, like it does with most other countries. Mission accomplished, and feeling rich with a few thousand Baht obtained, we needed to find a taxi. There were a few parked along the busy road, but the drivers were nowhere to be seen. We approached an official looking taxi stand but they wanted to take us on a tour to a different "Elephant Village" for a great deal more money. We managed to get across exactly where we wanted to go and agreed a price too, but the taxi itself was not very official looking, and so rightly or wrongly, I decided to walk away. Katie wasn't entirely in agreement, but it didn't feel right. Back to square one, and I started to think we should have booked the official P&O tour. We flagged down an "official" taxi and agreed a price with the driver who evidently didn't understand where we wanted to go. We'd done our homework and knew it was only 5 miles outside Pattaya, but he still seemed to protest about how far away it was. Still, he got us there eventually, another magical mystery tour under our belts.

The Elephant Village/Sanctuary itself is located just outside Pattaya in a more rural location, and all of the animals here are rescued because they have at one time been sick or injured. It's well worth a visit if you're ever in the area. We paid the equivalent of 20 pounds each which covered our entry, some local drinks and fruit snacks and an hour long trek on the back of one of the elephants, you can also feed them bananas and get much closer to them than you would in a regular zoo. As I mentioned, there was an official tour heading this way in the afternoon, but in doing it ourselves, we saved about 30 pounds and gained a lot more flexibility in our day. The official tour also didn't include a trek, but instead a show, probably to accommodate the less able bodied members of the group.

Riding on the back of our elephant was really cool (I did ask her name, but I forget what it was). Our guide, who was riding up front, as we sat in a seat strapped to her back, took us in a big circular route, through some water which came up to the waist of the elephant, and through local farms and villages. A few people that we saw waved, but otherwise it was just us. Apart from the constant rocking from side to side and the odd squelching noise from behind us, it was very relaxing. Our elephant was very well behaved, only on one occasion at a water stop (for her, not us) did she decide to assert her authority and turned away sharply in defiance. Nearing the end of the tour, we caught up with a few more elephants which looked like they were being repositioned around the village. One took a liking to the bananas which Katie had next to her, and a stray trunk suddenly appeared over her shoulder, heading straight for the bag! He didn't manage to eat them all though, there were still some left for ours to eat once we had dismounted. In fact, she was so keen to polish them off that before Katie could take them out of the plastic bag, she swiped the whole lot, bag and all. Despite our frantic attempts to stop her, the bananas and bag went whole into her mouth. The staff saw the whole thing but it didn't seem to worry them as much as it did us. Apparently elephants can deal with that sort of thing. Still, I hope it was bio-degradable. After the ride, we had a chance to take photos with the newest addition to the village, which was a 4 month old baby. He came up to my waist, had a hairy head, and was very playful. As we stood next to him, we would head butt our legs and he tried to wrap his trunk around my ankle and lift my leg up!

We got a lift back to town from one of the staff members, it was cheaper than the taxi earlier and a lot more comfortable. He dropped us back at the hotel where the bus had left us earlier. We had a quick, practical lunch so as not to waste too much time and then took a stroll up and down the main road in Pattaya. Much of it was made up of street markets, and browsing them, we have discovered, is one of our favourite pastimes in this part of the world. Katie wanted to go in the sea, so we did that too, although the beach was fairly narrow and crowded.

It was hard not to notice that all around Pattaya, essentially a beach resort, a higher than normal percentage of lone men on the streets. Couples are the norm everywhere we've been, so their single presence was quite an oddity to us. All of them were of a certain age, and most looked like they lived there or were certainly accustomed to the climate and way of life. Maybe this is similar in the rest of Thailand, I don't know, but one can make some assumptions about why they were there in such numbers. It gave the place a rather seedy feel although it never made us feel uncomfortable...

...That was the job of the weather, and with no sign of the humidity or temperature relenting, we were quite glad to make our way back to the coach and then the ship. We managed to get some free WiFi at the port, but only for the 20 minutes or so that we had left before getting back on board. A big crowd of crew and passengers were all sat around, heads buried deep into their laptops, a sure sign of free Internet and a consequence of the expensive and very slow connection on board. As I've explained before, finding free connectivity is like finding a stack of 20s down the back of the sofa. It's not just me, honest!

Halong Bay, Vietnam

Halong Bay is a UNESCO World Heritage site, honoured as such, perhaps because of it's natural outstanding beauty. I am somewhat unclear on the true reason, because on our arrival we were lucky if we could see the other end of the ship, such was the dense fog between us and all of that natural beauty! We had anchored again, 5 minutes ride from shore and were tendered to a floating pontoon which itself was attached (in the loosest possible way) to Terra firma. Some places we have docked, lay on a grand welcome ceremony, sometimes music is being played, and often there are stalls selling local souvenirs, but setting foot onto Vietnamese soil we were greeted by a red piece of AstroTurf, a nice touch, and a few quizzical locals who appeared to find more interesting happenings on their finger nails. It only occurred to me as I sat down to write this, that the reason for this may have been that they could not actually see the huge ship anchored 5 minutes out into the bay. All the locals saw appearing from out of the mist was a small orange boat carrying 100 people wearing T-shirts proclaiming to have come from Hawaii, Aruba or Australia. In fact, I don't doubt that many of those logo'd T-shirts were actually coming back home!

Of course, please don't mis-understand me. I don't expect to be welcomed with song and dance, in fact sometimes it can be quite false and uncomfortable, but this welcome was such an amusing contrast to other places, that I thought I would mention it.

A large number of people were understandably heading on an organised trip to Hanoi, about 3 hours drive each way, but with the limited time we had here, we decided that 6 hours on a coach was not the right thing to do, and had opted to see some of the Vietnamese countryside instead. We were driven about an hour from the bay to visit a local pottery/ceramics factory, then visited the house of a local farmer and finally a Buddhist monastery in the hills. The stops were nice, informative and a great way to get a feel for the people and their way of life in this part of the country, but it was the travel between places that really opened our eyes and filled in the gaps between the polished, organised events. While I'm not really in a position to be passing political comment or making judgements, we were very aware of Vietnam's communist governance, and the possible impact this would have on what we saw and heard. The same was true in Hong Kong, when we were given a long and passionate address by the tour guide. He bestowed the benefits of being a part of China, and how the government had helped to bring about great change. It was a strange, and overly opinionated view for a tour guide to make public, usually they stick to the facts. Back to Vietnam, Katie had a chat with our guide whilst on the bus, and she too expressed a passion for her country and the way it was run. I'm happy if the views of these guides reflect those of the country at large, but the cynic inside of me still filtered it all first.

Instead of appearing like a patronising westerner who thinks everything in his or her own country to be best, I'll simply report what we saw instead of passing comment (at least for the next paragraph!) I think that part of the reason for my cynicism was because of what we saw through the windows of the coach. The road along which we travelled before we got into more rural areas, was almost entirely made up of poorly maintained concrete houses and shops, solid on 3 sides with an opening onto the road. They would continue for several miles before being interspersed with a few paddy fields (presumably as one town stopped and another started) and each paddy field would normally have people (usually women) bent over, tending to the crop. Litter was either lying at the side of the road, or had been collected or bagged up and placed in huge piles in front of these houses. Even as we passed over bridges, you could see the rubbish on the banks of the river below. The built up area ran purely alongside the road, that's to say it didn't go any further back than one house or shop and a large proportion of them were either selling fruit and vegetables or fixing motorbikes. Not surprisingly, bikes and motorbikes were the main form of transport. Most people, we were told, got a motorbike when they were old enough to ride it, if you were rich you might own 2 or 3. If you didn't have enough road sense to own a bike then you owned a car. With the exception of a few stretches which were 3 lanes wide, the roads were single carriageway, generally in good condition. I lost count of the number of times that I heard the sound of air being sucked through the teeth of the passengers at the front of the coach as they surveyed the road ahead. The horn was used copiously, and we worked out a rough system of 1 beep to say I'm overtaking you, 2 beeps when you were roughly alongside, and 1 again to announce that you were pulling back in, regardless of whether you were completely passed or not. If we were head-on with another vehicle coming the other way (which wasn't uncommon) a flash of your lights appeared to be the acceptable method of telling the other party that you intended to have priority and that the other should back down. For the party who was backing down, this was the time to use a single beep to indicate you were pulling in, regardless. Nevertheless, we didn't witness a single accident, and only a handful of near misses.

Once the joy ride was over and we were heading back towards the ship, we decided to get dropped off at what we were told to be a tourist market. In fact, as we discovered after the coach had pulled away, that it was really nothing to behold. We were a couple of miles from the "port" so we pointed in the right direction and with no more company than a main road on one side, and sea on the other, we took a stroll down a street in Vietnam. As you do. The bizarreness of it all wasn't lost on us and it wasn't for another 30 minutes or so that we saw anyone that might have passed as a tourist. Katie wouldn't miss the opportunity to touch The South China Sea either, but you wouldn't want to put your beach towel down. Unfortunately, it too was dirty and had rubbish scattered around. We witnessed people clearing it up, but we also witnessed a taxi driver throwing an empty drinks bottle out of his window and onto the pavement. You don't need rules and punishment to know that's not right, surely?

As we got closer to the ship, there was a large "night" market that was already open for business. It wasn't dissimilar to the type we had seen in Hong Kong, but most of the stalls sold very similar goods, and therefore most of the stall holders were a lot more pushy. We liked Hong Kong because we were left alone to browse, but here, much to our surprise and eventual amusement, the stall holders were more interested in the wicker bags we were already clutching from the ceramics factory. They wanted to know where we got them from, what they cost, and what was inside. The contents happen to be a present for someone, and a fragile one at that, so I was a little cautious of them manhandling it as they were.

Back at the tender embarkation point, we found that the fog had lifted a little, and we could make out more of the large atolls that poke up above the water, and give Halong Bay it's distinctive image. After the short tender, we headed straight for some food as we hadn't eaten all day save for some biscuits that Katie is stashing in my top drawer. As the sun went down, the ship stayed very still, and we discovered that the coaches from Hanoi had been delayed. Trevor and Jean were both on that trip so I rang their cabin and left a message to explain that the captain (actually we have a Commodore on board now - I'll write about that later) was charging them, per hour, for delaying our departure.

If it's possible to get a feeling for somewhere after visiting it for a single day then I'll say that we really enjoyed what we saw. It was very different to anywhere we've been yet on this trip, and I dare say anywhere we've been previous to this trip too. It's also made us reflect on the fact that we are very lucky to be seeing these places, but asking ourselves if we're really able to form an opinion about a country in which we've spent 8 hours. The obvious answer is no. We can like or dislike what we saw, but we're in no position to judge anything more than that. Imagine if you arrived by sea into Hull and presumed the whole of England was that bad :-)

Hong Kong - Day 1

6 days sailing from Cairns through the Celebes Sea, Sulu Sea and the South China Sea and we anchored in Junk Bay, Hong Kong on Friday. Originally the plan was to dock in the port, but due to reasons that we will never really get to know, we got a letter in our post box telling us we would be tendering into Hong Kong. The way the letter read, my first thought was that we wouldn't be stopping at all, so it was a small relief to learn that it was only a minor change to the plan. I'm sure it made a few people unhappy, but on the positive side, we would be dropped off pretty centrally, and within easy reach of other ferries and transport links.

Like in Sydney, we'd be here for 2 days, and our first day we'd booked a "Grand Tour" so that we could orientate ourselves better for the time that we were here. As an aside, we were worried at first about the amount of time we'd get in each place, and there are places where more time would have been great. However, we're finding that we are really getting the most out every port of call by planning ahead, and packing as much into each day as possible. For example, I think that if we'd had a week in Sydney, we'd have done one thing each day. Instead, we're doing 2 or 3 things. Inevitably this means some long days, but we have the time at sea to catch up on non-essential things like sleep and food.

Hong Kong was no different. We were boarding our Junk boat for a bay cruise at 9am on Friday and this took us directly off the ship, into and around the bay and dropped us at a waiting coach and our guide, Stanley. I forget where the name "Junk boat" originates, but it appeared sea worthy and didn't require balancing with people on each side in order to stay upright. Other boats that day, did. Stanley herded us like good sheep towards his waiting coach, while at the same time managing to humor Katie as she tried out her newly learnt Mandarin Chinese phrases. It turns out that Hong Kong locals speak Cantonese. She wasn't to know, but on the plus side, Cantonese for "Good Morning" was much easier to remember. It came in very useful as a phrase, right up until about noon. The official languages of Hong Kong are English and Cantonese, and as we were driven through the city on Hong Kong Island, you could see that all the road signs, advertising, and place names were written in both languages. That's a really good thing because even with Katie's 24-in-1 multi-lingual mini-translator, we'd have been stuffed, especially as it appeared to have a preference for Mandarin.

Our first stop of the day was about 30 minutes drive away. We passed through the city then, heading south along a coastal road overlooking some stunning views of cliffs, thick-forested hills and empty beaches, arrived at Stanley Market. The market, in Stanley, is a permanent fixture, frequented it seemed by locals as well as tourists and sold the standard tourist guide book fayre. " is great for finding locally grown flowers, clothes, cloth, leather goods and hand carved local souvenirs". Leather goods seem to be popular everywhere we've been, why make an exception here?! If you'd have told me all this before arriving, I'd have happily spent a while browsing before moving onto the next stop, a pleasant way to spend an hour. But when we got into the thick of it, we had to be pulled out, agreeing that we would go back in our own time the next day. The range, size and extraordinarily low prices kept us looking for bargains long after we should have been heading back to the coach. The best way I can describe it; like having eBay in front of you, you just had to find it, and secure your price. The difference here was that you didn't have to know what you wanted to find things you never knew you needed!

Most of the "Bricks and Mortar" shops had fixed prices in Hong Kong or didn't display prices at all, meaning you had to ask, and therefore have a price assigned to you depending on how you looked, what day of the week it was, and even what mood the seller was in. The market stalls had prices displayed but pretty much everything was negotiable. Because Katie is not British, her bargaining skills were better than mine. Her best example was getting 10 individual items originally priced at HK$450 down to HK$200. You had to be prepared to walk away, or face a lengthy exchange. Usually I gave up when I realised I was "exchanging" over a matter of £1.50. Even the currency exchange rate at which we changed some money was up for debate, moving from HK$10 to the pound, back to a more reasonable HK$11.5 after a bit of persuasion. I pity the poor tourist that takes everything at face value. After 2 full days of haggling over any number we came across, we felt like trying to drive down the cost of a beer back onboard Arcadia!

After another 20 minutes on the coach, and more entertainment from Stanley, our next stop was a trip around a busy marina on a Sampan boat. Can I ask you to imagine a James Bond film, with a boat chase through a busy waterway? Got the image? Well, a Sampan boat would be the boat that James jumps into when his first choice crashes or runs aground. You know the one. He jumps onto its cloth roof, ripping a hole in it, and lands on the deck startling the tourists and the old local woman driving it. This one looked like James had already been to visit, except that the old local woman was still vaguely in charge of the helm. I say vaguely because the ring of used tyres strung around the outside of the boat would come in handy several times as we weaved and, in the main, dodged the water based traffic. But don't think it was all plain sailing, with only 10 people on each boat, we played our part too when she screamed something in Cantonese and waved her hands wildly, it meant we had to move someone from the left side of the boat to the right. This was particularly useful to stop the boat tipping over and so we duly obliged. I did contemplate the temperature and depth of the water a couple of times, it actually looked surprisingly clean and clear considering the traffic, but we thankfully arrived back at the small dock completely dry.

After such excitement, lunch was a welcome sight. It was arranged as part of our tour which took the thinking and deciding out of the equation, as we were led to the Marina Yacht Club, and a huge, very elegant ballroom with chandeliers the size of our dining room table hanging from the high ceilings. It had obviously been set aside for P&O as part of several tours where lunch was included, and was busy with other passengers, all of us feeling extremely under dressed. You may have already seen the pictures that Katie posted while we were actually there. If not, scroll down or look up the post titled "Typical Chinese Lunch at Marina Club Hong Kong". The food was lovely, and as a bonus, the place had free and fast wifi.

After a stop at a Jewelry factory which made us think that Stanley and indeed P&O were on commission, we headed to Victoria Peak. Pretty much the highest place overlooking much of Hong Kong Island and the bay, we took pictures and marveled at the views. Skyscraper upon skyscraper stood in the haze and we amazed ourselves with the thought of the number of people who lived down there. About 7.5 million, the majority of whom live in an area not much bigger than Reading.

From the peak of the city, we took a funicular railway back down into the city. Now this particular funicular also claims to be the steepest in the world and for those of you who read my Sydney post (if not, why not?), you will remember that I doubted similar claims made by the railway at the Blue Mountains. However, now that we are experienced funicular riders, and without knowing the exact statistics, I would give credit to the Blue Mountain's claims. If anyone knows of any other renowned funiculars, please let us know, we'd be more than happy to sample their steepness. I feel a book coming on.

We were dropped back at the ferry terminal where most people headed back to the tender and hence the ship. It was about 5pm by this time, and despite having had a full day out we decided that the 40 minute one way ride back to the ship meant that we wouldn't be back on shore before 8. So we decided to stay out and catch the ferry to Kowloon. Hong Kong is essentially an island, and Kowloon is back on the mainland. If you were to continue north by land for another 25 miles, you'd reach the border with China proper. The ferry ride is only 7 minutes, costs about 15 pence each but it may have well been another world away. We thought Hong Kong Island was busy, but Kowloon was the bustling, colourful maze that made us think we had really arrived. Walking along the street up from the ferry terminal, we saw only locals, and with the 4 of us in our best tourist day wear, I was quite aware of how much we stood out. Nevertheless, apart from the first 5 minutes when Trevor was pursued relentlessly by a tailor who made custom suits to order, we were not bothered by anyone. Our walk took us over a mile north up the main road, through some gardens, and towards the night market on Temple Street which was just getting started when we arrived. If we thought that Stanley market was big, varied and well attended, then the Temple Street night market was something else. The stalls were set up down the middle of the street, with local food "outlets" on each side of the road serving everything you would expect from a Chinese street cafe. The relatively normal stuff like fish, shell fish, snails and eels, and then the weird things like chickens feet, fried insects and things we could not readily identify let alone allow into our mouths. Goods being offered on the stalls were far more varied than in Stanley. More electronics, and electrical "bits and pieces" which I took great delight in perusing, leather bags of all different brands, shapes and sizes, computer games and consoles, clothing, decorations, and a multitude of different types of crap - from Nail Clippers to Pens and Pencils and back to glue and headphones. There wasn't much you couldn't have found, and at a price that made you want to buy a lot of it. Every time we thought we had come to the end, it continued over the road. Once again, haggling over the price, or at least getting a discount, was the norm, and a lot of people were taking advantage of that. While the pace of movement was relatively slow, the generally accepted way of moving around, seemed to be just to ignore people in front, behind or to the side of you and bump and jostle your way through, it was a pick pockets' dream. Needless to say, we kept a tight grip on our belongings and each other! We spent a good couple of hours there, and as the evening progressed, the items on sale progressed too. Several more stalls selling fake watches appeared, mostly Rolex, but after examining a few I decided that despite their price (about £30 after discount) the quality wasn't as good as I had been hoping for and so we passed.

When our stomachs finally won over we decided to give the street food a miss, and headed back to the main road to find a normal looking restaurant. We found one just off the main road and had a nice meal consisting of a starter, main course with rice and a large beers for about £10 per head. We were the only non locals in there.

We walked back down the main street towards the ferry terminus. It was about 11pm by this time but the streets were still full of people and colourful neon signs, advertising even the smallest hotel or restaurant. I think we caught the last ferry to run that night and then jumped on a tender boat to take us back to the ship. The tenders were running all night, but this one was fairly busy, we even bumped into Dave and Ann, our other table mates, and one of Arcadia's doctors with whom we've become friendly. As Katie sat inside, I ventured out onto a dark deck to watch the Hong Kong skyline. It was surely impressive, and we were to get an even better view of it the next night.