by Chris Harris
Day 6 of a week aboard Cunard’s Queen Anne, sailing from Southampton to Norway and back. This is not a cruise review so much as a diary of what actually happens when you put 3,000 passengers on a floating hotel, give them unlimited food and, in our case, a drinks package. The good, the bad, the ridiculous and why, despite everything, I’d probably do it all again.
It had been quite windy during the night, to the degree that Eloise had to move the wooden coat hangers out of the wardrobe because they were banging around. I just slept through it all. Up to the Trough for what was a very nice omelette, and then we went into Skagen.
Skagen initially looked very much like a lost cause, just a large collection of small houses. But once we walked out through the port, it was actually very charming. It felt quite dated, but only in a good way, with lots of artisan shops. It’s very touristy because where we were walking towards was the northernmost tip of Denmark, where the North Sea meets the Baltic.
It was a lovely walk, punctuated by the fact that there was a huge biker festival going on, with 1,250 bikers and their bikes. But not the sort you’d expect. These were all 50cc, so all with tiny engines, but lots of them were dressed up like hardcore bikers, piddling around on their little, almost lawnmower engines.
Past the lighthouse, we got to an amalgamation of bunkers that the Germans used during the war. Apparently, Denmark’s involvement in fighting the Germans lasted a few hours before they capitulated. Skagen was very quiet when we walked through it, and when we walked back two hours later, it was bustling.
Eventually, we made our way back onto the boat and up for a coffee, and the lady suggested we have a toasted ham and cheese sandwich. Hot melted cheese, she said, but it wasn’t. It was tepid. However, after a seven-mile walk, it was very welcome. No deck walking required after such a lengthy walk.
So whilst Eloise went off and did some things, I sat and did some writing. During the walk to the lighthouse and back, I’d written, or dictated, the bones of the new story from start to finish, called The Quizzicals, about some quiz cheats.
Up to the Trough, where goujons, chips and mushy peas, again, were very nice. So this is where we are now. It’s probably 44 hours now, just stuck on the boat, and I’m cruised out. Generally, on any holiday, after five days I’ve had enough and want to go home. But I’m still enjoying myself.
It was red and black night at the special evening, and I was delighted that we were going to avoid it. We’ve already decided we’re going to complain bitterly about how poor the restaurant was, and research confirmed that.
We planned our next cruise. We’ve found an Olsen five-dayer, which fits my five-day quota rather well. We hit the trough at 9 pm for the worst meal of the cruise by far. School food. Disgusting, but I was half cut, so ate it.
The trough was awash with men in black suits and women in red dresses who had clearly decided the big-deal dinner overseen by Michel Roux, Le Gavroche at Sea, was a small nosh and needed topping up. A cruise gimmick, obviously; the Roux offering was limited in size.
Then to the silent disco, where everybody conservatively danced around whilst some nutter put on a display involving a mixture of air guitar, slam dancing and fist pumping the air. Me, of course.
Bed, but I’d regained my alcohol zest, probably to outweigh the increasing boredom of it all. In reality, the actual excursions are over. I enjoyed all four, with varying ratings out of five. You can feel the doldrums looming over the ship. Lots of people will continue to further destinations, but for the bulk of the 3,000 passengers, time was ebbing away as we began the long return to Southampton. I don’t enjoy holidays as a rule, and five days for me is enough to unwind: days one to three, consolidate four and five, feel bored and want to go home from day six onwards. So I am never somebody who mourns the end of a trip but always look forward to getting home.
