Following our five-course meal (of which we only sampled three courses), with a bottle of complimentary bubbly, we set off to investigate the nefarious musical offerings loosely described as entertainment. First port of call was the band in the lounge bar. Surprisingly this Asian quartet offered a very passable Blues improvisation before trawling the depths (note the nautical terms I am slipping in here) with some pretty poor Elvis. So we headed for the show-lounge where the troupe gave us a taste of what was to come through a series of dance and song routines in which the girls, wearing extravagant costume, seized every opportunity to titillate the elderly gentlemen, yee-hawing, can-caning and slappering, while the boys performed acrobatics and the crooners crooned Robbie Williams, Tom Jones and Frank Sinatra. It certainly gave us a taste of what was to come. I can’t say I was looking forward to it.
We finished the evening with the acoustic guitarist in the bar. He was Argentinian and average. It seemed I was going to have to make my own entertainment – but that was fine with me. I had enough to read, a lot of ideas to write and photos to play with!
Returning to the cabin I contemplated 42 nights of dubious fayre with the thought that at least we would be eating well and visiting interesting places.
Liz informed me that she was contemplating an alcohol-free period with a limited partaking of the food on offer, coupled with a fitness campaign. She hoped to lose a stone in weight on our voyage.
I was beginning to wonder.
Back in our cabin I typed up Day 1 then Liz informed me that Day 1 had ended. No sooner had we left the shores of England than 11 pm had magically become midnight and we had been robbed of an hour! It was time for sleep.
But sleep would not come. Up in the rarefied atmosphere, forward on deck seven, the churn of the screws was a very distant throb while the roar of the air conditioning sounded as if we were constantly poised on the brink of a great cataract. I lay awake and contemplated Rotterdam – our first stop.
I could think of a few rotters I wouldn’t mind embedding in the dam, but am attempting to become more tolerant, so refrained from making suggestions.
Following a cooked breakfast, we boarded the shuttle into Rotterdam. While being mild the skies were a uniform mottled grey with low cloud scurrying overhead. There were a few flurries of light rain but they did not bother us too greatly we were heading for the sun in Brazil. Undeterred we excitedly examined the unique colourful, Escher-like perspectives of the cube houses. They were fab and did things to your head with all manner of weird perspectives.
Then there was the pencil building, the old church, various statues and the wonderfully colourful market.
The massive mural on the walls and curved ceiling in the market was beautiful.
Needless to say, I took a few hundred pics. We strolled up the centre and along the picturesque canals, stopping for a roll of old Dutch cheese and a coffee before heading back down the riverbank and across the new bridge to the boat.
It felt like a beginning, a good beginning.