Just Thinking...
That’s about all I do these days… Think. I am still trying to get my flat in some sort of order, and it bothers me that I can’t seem to get it straight. I have a lot of stuff, but there’s more stuff that I want to keep than I have spaces for. I’m doing my best though. It’s getting there slowly as I manage to find spaces for things, rearranging so everything fits, or at least clears a bit more floor space.
I’m trying to get some sort of order in my life, doing things I know I have to in order to get myself back to a possible state of normality, although I’m not sure what “normal” is these days. It would be nice to be able to get out and do things, but I’m still wrestling with bouts of severe depression and agoraphobia. I applied for a job as a seamstress before going on my holidays, just a little part time thing, but didn’t get it. I’m sort of glad I didn’t in a way, because it would have meant forcing myself out the house even on days when being under the covers of my bed was the only place I wanted to be. I’m not sure whether forcing myself would be a good thing or not, but my dark side thinks it would just have made things worse, that I’ve have made silly errors at work and ended up with no job again because of my irrational illness.
It’s an illness. It has been confirmed now, with a proper psychiatric doctor confirming that I now have what is termed as a “long term depressive disorder with occasional bouts of extreme depression” which is being treated with anti-depressants and regular visits to see the psychiatrist. He reckons I could be on my medication for the next eighteen months. I’m hoping that the symptoms will recede well before that, because frankly, living like this might just shove me over the edge again, with the thought of not getting better for a year and a half.
Life isn’t all doom and gloom though: I had my cruise, I have a party to go to in a couple of weeks with a friend, Christmas in Germany with the family to look forward to and another visit to my friends in Wales in a week or so for a day or two. I’m now worried about what to wear for the party, since I’d like to wear my red taffeta dress, but I’m not sure it wouldn’t be a bit too posh, but don’t want to wear something lesser in case it’s not posh enough… Dilemma time. I shall work it out before I go away though.
I promised to put in something about my holiday in a previous blog, so I suppose now would be a good time for that.
Well, on the Tuesday (30th September) I was packed and ready early, pacing the house waiting for the Bear to take me to where the coach was picking me up. I met a couple of very nice people on the coach trip on the way down too, and got chatting, so that was nice. We got down to the docks at Southampton in time for me to meet my sis and then go for lunch in the Lido on the ship. I’ve had lunch on board before, and the excitement wasn’t really kicking in. We managed to retrieve my bags and get them to sis’s cabin, and then I unpacked and got everything put away before sailaway. We went up onto the foredeck (crew only area) to watch the tugs and things, and sis took pics of them. She’s got a thing about pics of tugs, and has photos of tugs from all around the world. The captain blew the horn as we left, and just after sis had a phone call from the parents. She passed the phone to me and I spoke to mum… She said “Hello, mummy here. We just thought we’d come down to wave you off…” which I declared was a load of rubbish as my sister turned me round to face the bridge… Where my parents were on the observation deck just below the bridge waving their hankies at me! I screamed and laughed. The whole family were on board. Sis had been half way across the Atlantic when she heard a cabin had come available, so she booked and paid for it for the parents. Cool, huh? I have no idea how mother managed to keep it a secret…
Anyway, we dined in the Mauretania restaurant on board, which is nice and posh, and had Vladimir and Johann as our waiters. They were fab, and had to put up with a lot of rubbish from us, but they soon got used to our jokes and started joining in. I couldn’t believe how attentive everyone was: by day three I asked the Maitre ’D if my parents were in for breakfast, and he knew who I was talking about… The food was fantastic, and I have all the menus for each day in a souvenir pack. I won’t go into too much detail about the menus: suffice to say you could eat yourself sick if you wanted to, and it was all fantastic food, cooked perfectly, served beautifully, and the choices were fabulous. If I wrote down everything I’d eaten and everything that was on the menus, I’d probably get lynched, so I won’t. I came back 2 pounds heavier than I went though… Not too bad considering, however I did do a lot of walking about the ship, some dancing (I did tango lessons with a guy who had clammy hands, no sense of rhythm and the memory of a stunned goldfish when it came to the moves) and a fair bit of walking in places we went.
Places we went: Well, it was the last Round Britain cruise for the QE2, and we were supposed to be going overnight to Cherbourg, but apparently the weather was too bad, or there was a lack of tugs or something, so we didn’t go there. When we went to bed the first night, I said it was a bit lumpy out, but sis said it was nothing. When we woke on the Wednesday morning, it was definitely very lumpy, with the bed going up and down lots. Sis said, “Now it’s lumpy”. We’d sailed out into a force 9 gale, but you could really hardly feel it on the ship. We went to Cobh in Southern Ireland (which used to be Queenstown) instead and did an overnight stop there. The Wednesday night at Cobh was a formal night, so I wore my new black halter neck dress, which I made while waiting to go get material at the rag market to finish my red dress.
It’s very a very pretty place, with all different coloured houses going up the hill to a very beautiful cathedral that has a spire that dominates the skyline. It was also the last stop for the Titanic on her first and last voyage, as well as the place that sent out people to rescue the survivors from the sinking of the Lusitania: Lots of seafaring history there. It was chilly, and rained a bit on and off, but I got some nice pics there, which I will try and get the Bear to post another time.
When we left Cobh on the Thursday, the pier and the whole front of the town were lined with people waving handkerchiefs, which was fabulous, and people further up in the town were waving hankies, towels and tablecloths: anything white that would be visible from the ship really. We waved hankies back. It’s a sort of family joke that you wave a hankie to people leaving, but it’s an old tradition from the days of people emigrating. Poor people didn’t have flags to wave, but they certainly had a clean hankie.
We sailed out into another bit of a blow and headed up the Irish Sea to Liverpool. It was another formal night, so I wore my red taffeta dress, which got several admiring glances and a few comments. I was accosted by a couple of members of the Titanic Historical Society who thought my dress was just the right thing for their kind of do, and asked if I was a member (which I’m not). It was quite a compliment really, although people kept standing on the train of the dress! At dinner I commented to mum about it, and we joked a bit, with me saying “I wonder how many more people are going to stand on my frock tonight!” and when we got up from dinner, I came to a sudden halt… In a quiet but firm voice my next comment was “Mother… get OFF my dress”… She’d only gone and stood on the train! I laughed about it though once she stopped standing on my hem.
We arrived in Liverpool on the Friday early afternoon and then we were bussed to the old Cathedral for a concert just for the QE2. For those who don’t know, Liverpool is the home of Cunard and has a long history with the company and it’s ships. I swear there wasn’t a dry eye in the place by the end of the concert, and it felt like a funeral for a grand old lady. The ship’s decommissioning pennant was paraded down the central aisle of the cathedral by members of the ship’s crew, led by Seco (Security officer John who likes Chocolate Buttons) and handed over to the city as a memento of the ship’s final visit. It was really nice to be there though, despite the underlying sadness of the occasion.
After the concert, I headed into the city to meet up with a friend We had a couple of drinkies and then something to eat, by which time I had to be heading back to the ship. It was really great to meet him, as we have been talking via mail and stuff for years, but never actually met in the flesh, as it were. He’s lovely, and I hope to go and see him again to meet his other half and their baby, as they couldn’t come to meet me while we were in on the ship.
We left Liverpool quite late in the evening, but there were still crowds of people standing out in the freezing cold to see us off. They were singing “The Leaving of Liverpool” and it was a gorgeous send-off. After Liverpool, we headed back out into the Irish Sea, where it was a bit lumpy yet again, and headed in to Belfast. We were accompanied for a short while on the Saturday morning by H.M.S. Ark Royal, who was sailing down the Irish Sea, but did a “handbrake turn” to sail up a little way with us. As we were entering Belfast Lough there was an air display by the Red Arrows, which would have been a bit more spectacular if the weather hadn’t been so naff. It was wet and horrible, with low cloud, but they did their stuff and included a wonderful fly-past over the ship.
Belfast was wet. Very wet. The family bailed off the ship after she docked around 2pm on the Saturday and we headed into the city centre on the courtesy busses to meet a friend of my sister’s who lives in the city now and one of my mates from the interweb. We had a couple of drinks in a very nice pub, then sis had to run off back to go on duty. The parents and I shambled back a bit slower then got the bus back. I’m still not sure if I’ve dried out! We left there very late: somewhere round eleven/midnight and the only people to see us off were the guys on some of the container ships docked where we were. They were close enough to shout to and they shouted “Thank you for visiting us” to which my mum shouted back “Thank you for having us!” We waved our hankies and flags at anyone who moved, and had a few waves in reply.
After leaving Belfast, the ship did a little detour round the Isle of Man a couple of times. There’s a couple who live there who are long-time cruisers on the ship and who are, well, I suppose the term is “happily affluent” which meant they had specifically requested the ship take one last visit past their home on the island with the fuel all paid for by the couple. They apparently also paid for a drink for every member of the crew to say “thank you” which I thought was a lovely touch. They’ve apparently been very nice cruisers, very pleasant and friendly to the crew, always polite to the staff, and never wanting to cause any fuss, but just have a nice holiday on board. Sis says they’re really down-to-earth people, and very “normal” unlike some of the super-rich cruisers, who can be quite rude.
After that brief detour, we headed up to the QE2’s “home” in Scotland. She’s a Clyde-built ship and my dad watched her being built when he lived near there with his parents. We arrived in the Clyde to glorious sunshine, as if the weather knew she was coming home for the last time and had put out the best weather to welcome her. We had hundreds of yachts, motor cruisers and even jet-skis and a couple of rowing boats in the flotilla that gathered to usher the grand old lady up to Greenock, following her up from Largs onwards and we had an escort provided by H.M.S. Manchester, flying her Sunday Ensign at the masthead, a privilege and honour reserved normally only for royalty! We were out waving our Scottish flags and getting cheers and flags waved in reply. What a fantastic welcome!
Needless to say, we didn’t get off the ship. Greenock is a spit in the eye away from where I grew up, so been there, seen it, done that and didn’t much fancy a wander round there. Besides, we had my cousin and her husband coming for lunch (minus baby B, who was left with my aunt looking after her and was last seen by her escaping parents throwing jelly at the wall. She’s almost got the hang of feeding herself, but is still at the “modern art” stage with the food) and my sister also arranged for our old schoolmate J to come for lunch as well. It was great to see her again (and I really must write a reply to her card at some point, since I nagged her about writing to me! Oops!). Sis’s friend also came, minus her dog, who is madly in love with my sister: every time he sees her, he goes mad, then has to try and sit on her or sits at her feet gazing up at her in adoration. He’s a soppy retriever who hasn’t yet worked out that he’s too big to be a lap-dog, but he does his best, bless’im.
We had a really good day with the family: lunch in the Lido, tour of the ship and afternoon tea and stickies on the funnel deck in the glorious sunshine. They really enjoyed their visit, which was great, and we have loads of pics of them on board too. Sailaway was late again, and we rushed dinner so we could get out to see the fireworks laid on, which were quite spectacular. There were loads of people lined all the way down the street to see us off, and people followed in their cars down as far as Toward Point to get a last look at the ship leaving. We stood on deck for ages waving at the last brave souls who followed in wee boats and the ones on shore who could still have seen our flags, since we were right in front of one of the spotlights that illuminated the funnel.
Monday was spent sailing up the West Coast of Scotland and round the top through between the mainland and the Orkneys, and as a sea day, Monday night was another Formal night, so I wore my red taffeta dress again. Well, I was going to wear my cream suit, but I like my red dress, so thought “why not?” I wore the cream suit to cocktails instead…
As we were heading up and round, we were passed by a Nimrod aircraft, which flew past on the Port side (left, for all you non-seafarers). He came round for another look, and then spent the better part of half an hour going round the ship. People were heading from side to side to get photographs of him as he flew about, and in the murky weather, we couldn’t always see where he was. It was windy and slightly damp, although not completely rainy, and the spray was lifting off the waves and being blown onto the deck. I was muffled to the ears and couldn’t be bothered chasing planes as dad was, so I stayed by the rail with mum, and eventually decided to grab one of the deck loungers for a quick loaf with my feet up. Not really the best weather for it (raining a bit, blowing a gale and sea-spray lifting onto the deck and getting blown about), but it was comfy enough. Dad took a photo of me there just to prove that I’m insane… Like anyone needed proof!
On Tuesday we headed down the East Coast and into South Queensferry, which is the port for Edinburgh. It was a tender port, so no crew were allowed ashore, so it was just the parents and myself who headed down to the launch to go ashore. The ship was anchored downstream from the Forth Bridge, which made a pretty picture through the porthole in sis’s cabin, and the pier was on the upstream side, but it wasn’t too far. Good job really, since it was raining (again) and the launch wasn’t totally enclosed. We had a short mooch through the town and bought a couple of things (I got a white bear, now named Hamish and a silver and marquasite (sp?) naval crown brooch) and dad took a few pics, then we headed back to the ship. We might have stayed a bit longer, but the weather was so yuk that we couldn’t be bothered.
We had very little ceremony for sailaway. It was very quiet and there weren’t too many people around to see us off. We had a few boats braving the weather in a small flotilla, but nothing to rival the welcome on the Clyde. The muck on the deck was unbelievable though as they hauled the anchor up, and they had two wee deck hands with hoses cleaning the chain and the deck as it was stowed.
Wednesday marked our arrival in Newcastle. It also marked the end of my stamina and I retired to bed with exhaustion while the other three went ashore for a look round. I thought I was coming down with something nasty, but sis declared I was just worn out after doing so much in the previous week, here and there, all over the ship, round all sorts of places, late nights and early mornings all finally ganging up on me and leaving me feeling like death warmed up. I slept most of the day, surfacing briefly to get a wee bit of food and something to drink, then went back to my bed for the rest of the day. I felt a bit better by dinner, although I didn’t eat very much and had Johann fussing over me, worrying that I hadn’t eaten very much. (I told you the service was fantastic, didn’t I?) I felt better by sailaway and went up on deck as we left the city. There were a few fireworks as we left the dock, going off on both sides of the ship, and as we passed out through the moles (long piers to protect the harbour) there were more fireworks going off in tandem from both sides. It was lovely.
Thursday was another sea day, so we just pottered around and I did some gift shopping. Dad gave me some spends, so I managed to get the things I wanted to and some bits for the Bear and his family, as he was looking after the cat while I was away. Thursday night we spent in the wardroom with some of the crew, and I have to say I stayed up way too late and had a little too much alcohol, but hell, I was on holiday…
I paid for the Thursday Night excesses on Friday. I didn’t have a hangover, possibly because I was still drunk, but I just wanted to sleep, which I did on my sister’s floor (missing breakfast, but meh, like I cared at that point) and after lunch in the wardroom, I came home with my parents who stayed over the night before heading back up home on the Saturday, and I slept most of the way up in the car. I think we were all in bed by 9 on the Friday night as we were all completely shattered.
Anyway, I have a box of souvenirs here now which I must sort out and get frames for. I have all my menus from the dinners on board, several postcards, various paperwork, some drink stirrers, a couple of boxes of matches, and a couple of very special pieces… One is a piece of the ship: part of the thrust bearing of Number Two Air Conditioning Unit that ceased to function and was replaced in June. The other is one of the limited edition Final Farewell plates: it’s black with a gold compass rim and a gold QE2 silhouette in the middle. It’s even more special because it is signed by the Captain, Ian McNaught, his secretary, Andrea, the Navigator, Donal and by Commodore Warwick, a previous captain of the ship. I plan to get my sister to sign it as well. Not just a limited edition plate, but now a unique plate that I will treasure. If anyone looks at it funny, I will poke their eyes out with a blunt stick. Anyone touching it without my express permission will have fingers broken, and anyone even mentioning eBay will have their tongue chopped off and will be picking their teeth off the floor… I jest, but only just… It’s not something I want to part with. I’m not interested in the value of the plate itself, because to me it is priceless and irreplaceable, a memory of a wonderful holiday on a beautiful ship with a crew I cannot fault.
Talking of which, I made a few friends in the crew simply by wandering up to people like the wee guys mending the deck or the waiter who cleared the tables in the Pavilion, and speaking to them, complimenting them on their ship and how fantastic she is. The QE2 is one of the best cared-for ships I have ever seen, and everyone takes such pride in their work, even down to the people who make up the rooms or hoover the corridors. Their smiles are genuine, they are attentive and care for the passengers in a way that is outstanding and has given the QE2 the reputation she has. Sadly she is sailing to Dubai to become a hotel ending her 41 years as an ocean liner, the last of her class and the last of her standards.
The Queen Mary 2 is taking over the flagship role, and while I have heard good things about the food, I’ve not heard such great praise for the service. She’s no Elizabeth, that’s for sure! The QE2’s replacements are mere cruise liners, floating luxury hotels with the grace and elegance of a duck when compared to the sleek lines of the QE2. She was built to cross the Atlantic in any weather, in any sea-state and is still the fastest ship in the fleet no matter what the weather. There are photographs of her taken from the Queen Victoria as they crossed the Atlantic in tandem: in one photograph, her bow is raised high as she crests a wave, the red of her anti-fouling paint clearly visible along her length to near the stern as she rears free of the swell. In the next photograph her bow is down, ploughing into the next wave, the water almost over the bow before it breaks into a lashing spray, hammering the superstructure of bridge and forward decks.
Passengers and crew on board were only vaguely aware of the motion and the passengers were certainly unaware for the most part how much of the ship was appearing and disappearing in the North Atlantic storm swell. The ship was designed to cut through the waves, pivoting on her stern to leave the movement of the ship much smoother than her new companions. The Victoria apparently suffered damage to her interiors as the ship rolled and wallowed, panelling coming loose from its housing and so on, and many cases of seasickness on board because of the movement of the ship. She waddled gracelessly alongside her stable-mate who serenely cut through the gales with apparently effortless ease.
Ah well, I have fulfilled one of my life’s ambitions: to cruise on the QE2. It was fabulous, and frankly I wish that I could have taken some of my friends along for the experience. Maybe one day when I’m rich (don’t hold your breath…) I shall take my friends on a holiday, and we girls can giggle our way through bottles of champagne while the men of the party go lose money in the casino.
And so, here I am, back on dry land and feeling slightly cheated. Ten days of abject luxury in very salubrious surroundings, and now I’m sat here almost a month later, in my wee flat with my stuff all over the place because I don’t have enough storage, living on fresh air (well, not quite, but I have rediscovered the art of looking in the cupboards, seeing just about nothing in there and managing to make a decent meal out of it, although admittedly I’m fairly lazy sometimes and have cereal when I can’t be bothered) and generally wishing the divorce and settlement would hurry up and get finished so I can move on.
In the meantime I have found the pattern and material for a friend’s dress, so I shall be making that and then hopefully getting on with some more sewing, as I have a christening gown to make for her new great-grandson, born the day before yesterday (it’s Wednesday 5th November as I write this and I’m surrounded by fireworks going off all over the place). After that I have a couple of other things I want to make with the material I have already, and then I’m a bit stuck: I have things to make that I don’t have the material for, and currently can’t afford to buy the material… I’ll work it out somehow.
Tomorrow I am going to help the Bear with some plumbing things, then next week we are hopefully going to fit a fire for a friend of mine, so that’s another couple of days off the calendar. I have the party the weekend after, and I’ve been invited up to another friend’s for a few days at the end of the month. All I have to do is deal with the bits in between when I’m not so cheerfully employed being the visitor or friend. The bits where it’s just the cat and me tend to be where it goes a bit pear-shaped, but I’m still taking my tablets and trying to keep myself busy.
It’s almost a year to the day… I’m still alive… I should probably get some sort of medal for managing to achieve that much. For now, I’m going to go to bed and take the little tablet that stops me thinking for a few hours and lets me sleep…
I’m trying to get some sort of order in my life, doing things I know I have to in order to get myself back to a possible state of normality, although I’m not sure what “normal” is these days. It would be nice to be able to get out and do things, but I’m still wrestling with bouts of severe depression and agoraphobia. I applied for a job as a seamstress before going on my holidays, just a little part time thing, but didn’t get it. I’m sort of glad I didn’t in a way, because it would have meant forcing myself out the house even on days when being under the covers of my bed was the only place I wanted to be. I’m not sure whether forcing myself would be a good thing or not, but my dark side thinks it would just have made things worse, that I’ve have made silly errors at work and ended up with no job again because of my irrational illness.
It’s an illness. It has been confirmed now, with a proper psychiatric doctor confirming that I now have what is termed as a “long term depressive disorder with occasional bouts of extreme depression” which is being treated with anti-depressants and regular visits to see the psychiatrist. He reckons I could be on my medication for the next eighteen months. I’m hoping that the symptoms will recede well before that, because frankly, living like this might just shove me over the edge again, with the thought of not getting better for a year and a half.
Life isn’t all doom and gloom though: I had my cruise, I have a party to go to in a couple of weeks with a friend, Christmas in Germany with the family to look forward to and another visit to my friends in Wales in a week or so for a day or two. I’m now worried about what to wear for the party, since I’d like to wear my red taffeta dress, but I’m not sure it wouldn’t be a bit too posh, but don’t want to wear something lesser in case it’s not posh enough… Dilemma time. I shall work it out before I go away though.
I promised to put in something about my holiday in a previous blog, so I suppose now would be a good time for that.
Well, on the Tuesday (30th September) I was packed and ready early, pacing the house waiting for the Bear to take me to where the coach was picking me up. I met a couple of very nice people on the coach trip on the way down too, and got chatting, so that was nice. We got down to the docks at Southampton in time for me to meet my sis and then go for lunch in the Lido on the ship. I’ve had lunch on board before, and the excitement wasn’t really kicking in. We managed to retrieve my bags and get them to sis’s cabin, and then I unpacked and got everything put away before sailaway. We went up onto the foredeck (crew only area) to watch the tugs and things, and sis took pics of them. She’s got a thing about pics of tugs, and has photos of tugs from all around the world. The captain blew the horn as we left, and just after sis had a phone call from the parents. She passed the phone to me and I spoke to mum… She said “Hello, mummy here. We just thought we’d come down to wave you off…” which I declared was a load of rubbish as my sister turned me round to face the bridge… Where my parents were on the observation deck just below the bridge waving their hankies at me! I screamed and laughed. The whole family were on board. Sis had been half way across the Atlantic when she heard a cabin had come available, so she booked and paid for it for the parents. Cool, huh? I have no idea how mother managed to keep it a secret…
Anyway, we dined in the Mauretania restaurant on board, which is nice and posh, and had Vladimir and Johann as our waiters. They were fab, and had to put up with a lot of rubbish from us, but they soon got used to our jokes and started joining in. I couldn’t believe how attentive everyone was: by day three I asked the Maitre ’D if my parents were in for breakfast, and he knew who I was talking about… The food was fantastic, and I have all the menus for each day in a souvenir pack. I won’t go into too much detail about the menus: suffice to say you could eat yourself sick if you wanted to, and it was all fantastic food, cooked perfectly, served beautifully, and the choices were fabulous. If I wrote down everything I’d eaten and everything that was on the menus, I’d probably get lynched, so I won’t. I came back 2 pounds heavier than I went though… Not too bad considering, however I did do a lot of walking about the ship, some dancing (I did tango lessons with a guy who had clammy hands, no sense of rhythm and the memory of a stunned goldfish when it came to the moves) and a fair bit of walking in places we went.
Places we went: Well, it was the last Round Britain cruise for the QE2, and we were supposed to be going overnight to Cherbourg, but apparently the weather was too bad, or there was a lack of tugs or something, so we didn’t go there. When we went to bed the first night, I said it was a bit lumpy out, but sis said it was nothing. When we woke on the Wednesday morning, it was definitely very lumpy, with the bed going up and down lots. Sis said, “Now it’s lumpy”. We’d sailed out into a force 9 gale, but you could really hardly feel it on the ship. We went to Cobh in Southern Ireland (which used to be Queenstown) instead and did an overnight stop there. The Wednesday night at Cobh was a formal night, so I wore my new black halter neck dress, which I made while waiting to go get material at the rag market to finish my red dress.
It’s very a very pretty place, with all different coloured houses going up the hill to a very beautiful cathedral that has a spire that dominates the skyline. It was also the last stop for the Titanic on her first and last voyage, as well as the place that sent out people to rescue the survivors from the sinking of the Lusitania: Lots of seafaring history there. It was chilly, and rained a bit on and off, but I got some nice pics there, which I will try and get the Bear to post another time.
When we left Cobh on the Thursday, the pier and the whole front of the town were lined with people waving handkerchiefs, which was fabulous, and people further up in the town were waving hankies, towels and tablecloths: anything white that would be visible from the ship really. We waved hankies back. It’s a sort of family joke that you wave a hankie to people leaving, but it’s an old tradition from the days of people emigrating. Poor people didn’t have flags to wave, but they certainly had a clean hankie.
We sailed out into another bit of a blow and headed up the Irish Sea to Liverpool. It was another formal night, so I wore my red taffeta dress, which got several admiring glances and a few comments. I was accosted by a couple of members of the Titanic Historical Society who thought my dress was just the right thing for their kind of do, and asked if I was a member (which I’m not). It was quite a compliment really, although people kept standing on the train of the dress! At dinner I commented to mum about it, and we joked a bit, with me saying “I wonder how many more people are going to stand on my frock tonight!” and when we got up from dinner, I came to a sudden halt… In a quiet but firm voice my next comment was “Mother… get OFF my dress”… She’d only gone and stood on the train! I laughed about it though once she stopped standing on my hem.
We arrived in Liverpool on the Friday early afternoon and then we were bussed to the old Cathedral for a concert just for the QE2. For those who don’t know, Liverpool is the home of Cunard and has a long history with the company and it’s ships. I swear there wasn’t a dry eye in the place by the end of the concert, and it felt like a funeral for a grand old lady. The ship’s decommissioning pennant was paraded down the central aisle of the cathedral by members of the ship’s crew, led by Seco (Security officer John who likes Chocolate Buttons) and handed over to the city as a memento of the ship’s final visit. It was really nice to be there though, despite the underlying sadness of the occasion.
After the concert, I headed into the city to meet up with a friend We had a couple of drinkies and then something to eat, by which time I had to be heading back to the ship. It was really great to meet him, as we have been talking via mail and stuff for years, but never actually met in the flesh, as it were. He’s lovely, and I hope to go and see him again to meet his other half and their baby, as they couldn’t come to meet me while we were in on the ship.
We left Liverpool quite late in the evening, but there were still crowds of people standing out in the freezing cold to see us off. They were singing “The Leaving of Liverpool” and it was a gorgeous send-off. After Liverpool, we headed back out into the Irish Sea, where it was a bit lumpy yet again, and headed in to Belfast. We were accompanied for a short while on the Saturday morning by H.M.S. Ark Royal, who was sailing down the Irish Sea, but did a “handbrake turn” to sail up a little way with us. As we were entering Belfast Lough there was an air display by the Red Arrows, which would have been a bit more spectacular if the weather hadn’t been so naff. It was wet and horrible, with low cloud, but they did their stuff and included a wonderful fly-past over the ship.
Belfast was wet. Very wet. The family bailed off the ship after she docked around 2pm on the Saturday and we headed into the city centre on the courtesy busses to meet a friend of my sister’s who lives in the city now and one of my mates from the interweb. We had a couple of drinks in a very nice pub, then sis had to run off back to go on duty. The parents and I shambled back a bit slower then got the bus back. I’m still not sure if I’ve dried out! We left there very late: somewhere round eleven/midnight and the only people to see us off were the guys on some of the container ships docked where we were. They were close enough to shout to and they shouted “Thank you for visiting us” to which my mum shouted back “Thank you for having us!” We waved our hankies and flags at anyone who moved, and had a few waves in reply.
After leaving Belfast, the ship did a little detour round the Isle of Man a couple of times. There’s a couple who live there who are long-time cruisers on the ship and who are, well, I suppose the term is “happily affluent” which meant they had specifically requested the ship take one last visit past their home on the island with the fuel all paid for by the couple. They apparently also paid for a drink for every member of the crew to say “thank you” which I thought was a lovely touch. They’ve apparently been very nice cruisers, very pleasant and friendly to the crew, always polite to the staff, and never wanting to cause any fuss, but just have a nice holiday on board. Sis says they’re really down-to-earth people, and very “normal” unlike some of the super-rich cruisers, who can be quite rude.
After that brief detour, we headed up to the QE2’s “home” in Scotland. She’s a Clyde-built ship and my dad watched her being built when he lived near there with his parents. We arrived in the Clyde to glorious sunshine, as if the weather knew she was coming home for the last time and had put out the best weather to welcome her. We had hundreds of yachts, motor cruisers and even jet-skis and a couple of rowing boats in the flotilla that gathered to usher the grand old lady up to Greenock, following her up from Largs onwards and we had an escort provided by H.M.S. Manchester, flying her Sunday Ensign at the masthead, a privilege and honour reserved normally only for royalty! We were out waving our Scottish flags and getting cheers and flags waved in reply. What a fantastic welcome!
Needless to say, we didn’t get off the ship. Greenock is a spit in the eye away from where I grew up, so been there, seen it, done that and didn’t much fancy a wander round there. Besides, we had my cousin and her husband coming for lunch (minus baby B, who was left with my aunt looking after her and was last seen by her escaping parents throwing jelly at the wall. She’s almost got the hang of feeding herself, but is still at the “modern art” stage with the food) and my sister also arranged for our old schoolmate J to come for lunch as well. It was great to see her again (and I really must write a reply to her card at some point, since I nagged her about writing to me! Oops!). Sis’s friend also came, minus her dog, who is madly in love with my sister: every time he sees her, he goes mad, then has to try and sit on her or sits at her feet gazing up at her in adoration. He’s a soppy retriever who hasn’t yet worked out that he’s too big to be a lap-dog, but he does his best, bless’im.
We had a really good day with the family: lunch in the Lido, tour of the ship and afternoon tea and stickies on the funnel deck in the glorious sunshine. They really enjoyed their visit, which was great, and we have loads of pics of them on board too. Sailaway was late again, and we rushed dinner so we could get out to see the fireworks laid on, which were quite spectacular. There were loads of people lined all the way down the street to see us off, and people followed in their cars down as far as Toward Point to get a last look at the ship leaving. We stood on deck for ages waving at the last brave souls who followed in wee boats and the ones on shore who could still have seen our flags, since we were right in front of one of the spotlights that illuminated the funnel.
Monday was spent sailing up the West Coast of Scotland and round the top through between the mainland and the Orkneys, and as a sea day, Monday night was another Formal night, so I wore my red taffeta dress again. Well, I was going to wear my cream suit, but I like my red dress, so thought “why not?” I wore the cream suit to cocktails instead…
As we were heading up and round, we were passed by a Nimrod aircraft, which flew past on the Port side (left, for all you non-seafarers). He came round for another look, and then spent the better part of half an hour going round the ship. People were heading from side to side to get photographs of him as he flew about, and in the murky weather, we couldn’t always see where he was. It was windy and slightly damp, although not completely rainy, and the spray was lifting off the waves and being blown onto the deck. I was muffled to the ears and couldn’t be bothered chasing planes as dad was, so I stayed by the rail with mum, and eventually decided to grab one of the deck loungers for a quick loaf with my feet up. Not really the best weather for it (raining a bit, blowing a gale and sea-spray lifting onto the deck and getting blown about), but it was comfy enough. Dad took a photo of me there just to prove that I’m insane… Like anyone needed proof!
On Tuesday we headed down the East Coast and into South Queensferry, which is the port for Edinburgh. It was a tender port, so no crew were allowed ashore, so it was just the parents and myself who headed down to the launch to go ashore. The ship was anchored downstream from the Forth Bridge, which made a pretty picture through the porthole in sis’s cabin, and the pier was on the upstream side, but it wasn’t too far. Good job really, since it was raining (again) and the launch wasn’t totally enclosed. We had a short mooch through the town and bought a couple of things (I got a white bear, now named Hamish and a silver and marquasite (sp?) naval crown brooch) and dad took a few pics, then we headed back to the ship. We might have stayed a bit longer, but the weather was so yuk that we couldn’t be bothered.
We had very little ceremony for sailaway. It was very quiet and there weren’t too many people around to see us off. We had a few boats braving the weather in a small flotilla, but nothing to rival the welcome on the Clyde. The muck on the deck was unbelievable though as they hauled the anchor up, and they had two wee deck hands with hoses cleaning the chain and the deck as it was stowed.
Wednesday marked our arrival in Newcastle. It also marked the end of my stamina and I retired to bed with exhaustion while the other three went ashore for a look round. I thought I was coming down with something nasty, but sis declared I was just worn out after doing so much in the previous week, here and there, all over the ship, round all sorts of places, late nights and early mornings all finally ganging up on me and leaving me feeling like death warmed up. I slept most of the day, surfacing briefly to get a wee bit of food and something to drink, then went back to my bed for the rest of the day. I felt a bit better by dinner, although I didn’t eat very much and had Johann fussing over me, worrying that I hadn’t eaten very much. (I told you the service was fantastic, didn’t I?) I felt better by sailaway and went up on deck as we left the city. There were a few fireworks as we left the dock, going off on both sides of the ship, and as we passed out through the moles (long piers to protect the harbour) there were more fireworks going off in tandem from both sides. It was lovely.
Thursday was another sea day, so we just pottered around and I did some gift shopping. Dad gave me some spends, so I managed to get the things I wanted to and some bits for the Bear and his family, as he was looking after the cat while I was away. Thursday night we spent in the wardroom with some of the crew, and I have to say I stayed up way too late and had a little too much alcohol, but hell, I was on holiday…
I paid for the Thursday Night excesses on Friday. I didn’t have a hangover, possibly because I was still drunk, but I just wanted to sleep, which I did on my sister’s floor (missing breakfast, but meh, like I cared at that point) and after lunch in the wardroom, I came home with my parents who stayed over the night before heading back up home on the Saturday, and I slept most of the way up in the car. I think we were all in bed by 9 on the Friday night as we were all completely shattered.
Anyway, I have a box of souvenirs here now which I must sort out and get frames for. I have all my menus from the dinners on board, several postcards, various paperwork, some drink stirrers, a couple of boxes of matches, and a couple of very special pieces… One is a piece of the ship: part of the thrust bearing of Number Two Air Conditioning Unit that ceased to function and was replaced in June. The other is one of the limited edition Final Farewell plates: it’s black with a gold compass rim and a gold QE2 silhouette in the middle. It’s even more special because it is signed by the Captain, Ian McNaught, his secretary, Andrea, the Navigator, Donal and by Commodore Warwick, a previous captain of the ship. I plan to get my sister to sign it as well. Not just a limited edition plate, but now a unique plate that I will treasure. If anyone looks at it funny, I will poke their eyes out with a blunt stick. Anyone touching it without my express permission will have fingers broken, and anyone even mentioning eBay will have their tongue chopped off and will be picking their teeth off the floor… I jest, but only just… It’s not something I want to part with. I’m not interested in the value of the plate itself, because to me it is priceless and irreplaceable, a memory of a wonderful holiday on a beautiful ship with a crew I cannot fault.
Talking of which, I made a few friends in the crew simply by wandering up to people like the wee guys mending the deck or the waiter who cleared the tables in the Pavilion, and speaking to them, complimenting them on their ship and how fantastic she is. The QE2 is one of the best cared-for ships I have ever seen, and everyone takes such pride in their work, even down to the people who make up the rooms or hoover the corridors. Their smiles are genuine, they are attentive and care for the passengers in a way that is outstanding and has given the QE2 the reputation she has. Sadly she is sailing to Dubai to become a hotel ending her 41 years as an ocean liner, the last of her class and the last of her standards.
The Queen Mary 2 is taking over the flagship role, and while I have heard good things about the food, I’ve not heard such great praise for the service. She’s no Elizabeth, that’s for sure! The QE2’s replacements are mere cruise liners, floating luxury hotels with the grace and elegance of a duck when compared to the sleek lines of the QE2. She was built to cross the Atlantic in any weather, in any sea-state and is still the fastest ship in the fleet no matter what the weather. There are photographs of her taken from the Queen Victoria as they crossed the Atlantic in tandem: in one photograph, her bow is raised high as she crests a wave, the red of her anti-fouling paint clearly visible along her length to near the stern as she rears free of the swell. In the next photograph her bow is down, ploughing into the next wave, the water almost over the bow before it breaks into a lashing spray, hammering the superstructure of bridge and forward decks.
Passengers and crew on board were only vaguely aware of the motion and the passengers were certainly unaware for the most part how much of the ship was appearing and disappearing in the North Atlantic storm swell. The ship was designed to cut through the waves, pivoting on her stern to leave the movement of the ship much smoother than her new companions. The Victoria apparently suffered damage to her interiors as the ship rolled and wallowed, panelling coming loose from its housing and so on, and many cases of seasickness on board because of the movement of the ship. She waddled gracelessly alongside her stable-mate who serenely cut through the gales with apparently effortless ease.
Ah well, I have fulfilled one of my life’s ambitions: to cruise on the QE2. It was fabulous, and frankly I wish that I could have taken some of my friends along for the experience. Maybe one day when I’m rich (don’t hold your breath…) I shall take my friends on a holiday, and we girls can giggle our way through bottles of champagne while the men of the party go lose money in the casino.
And so, here I am, back on dry land and feeling slightly cheated. Ten days of abject luxury in very salubrious surroundings, and now I’m sat here almost a month later, in my wee flat with my stuff all over the place because I don’t have enough storage, living on fresh air (well, not quite, but I have rediscovered the art of looking in the cupboards, seeing just about nothing in there and managing to make a decent meal out of it, although admittedly I’m fairly lazy sometimes and have cereal when I can’t be bothered) and generally wishing the divorce and settlement would hurry up and get finished so I can move on.
In the meantime I have found the pattern and material for a friend’s dress, so I shall be making that and then hopefully getting on with some more sewing, as I have a christening gown to make for her new great-grandson, born the day before yesterday (it’s Wednesday 5th November as I write this and I’m surrounded by fireworks going off all over the place). After that I have a couple of other things I want to make with the material I have already, and then I’m a bit stuck: I have things to make that I don’t have the material for, and currently can’t afford to buy the material… I’ll work it out somehow.
Tomorrow I am going to help the Bear with some plumbing things, then next week we are hopefully going to fit a fire for a friend of mine, so that’s another couple of days off the calendar. I have the party the weekend after, and I’ve been invited up to another friend’s for a few days at the end of the month. All I have to do is deal with the bits in between when I’m not so cheerfully employed being the visitor or friend. The bits where it’s just the cat and me tend to be where it goes a bit pear-shaped, but I’m still taking my tablets and trying to keep myself busy.
It’s almost a year to the day… I’m still alive… I should probably get some sort of medal for managing to achieve that much. For now, I’m going to go to bed and take the little tablet that stops me thinking for a few hours and lets me sleep…
posted by Me at 4:26 pm
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