Welcome aboard

I wrote this post shortly after we boarded our ship, the Queen Victoria, just over a week ago, and I began writing it as we were leaving Southampton and sailing down the Solent.  We had arrived early at the Cruise terminal, after our pre-booked taxi picked us up, shortly before 8 am, last Sunday morning. Traffic on the motorways was relatively light, which allowed a speedy, and hassle-free journey down from Kent, but unfortunately meant an hour’s wait before we could drop off our bags.

We then joined the queue for check-in, which whilst relatively straight forward, then left us sat in a large departure area, with dozens of other passengers, all waiting to board. So much for Mrs PBT’s pre-cruise concerns about COVID, which annoyed me somewhat, particularly as I’d been religiously avoiding crowded situations. The irony of the situation seemed lost on my good lady wife, but hey-ho, although I informed her that any rules about being grounded, would go straight out of the window, we when return home.

Despite the queuing, and the airline- style security scanning, we were on board the ship shortly after 2pm. Our bags were ready and waiting, outside the cabin, or “Stateroom,” as the cruise line prefers to call them. After a quick cup of tea, we headed off in search of something to eat, as the two slices of toast and marmalade I’d had for breakfast at 7pm, had long ceased to satisfy my hunger, and Eileen felt pretty much the same. As good, compliant passengers, but also safety-conscious travellers, we popped along to our designated muster station to have our cards scanned, and then after walking just a short distance, we chanced upon the Golden Lion. This is the Queen Victoria’s onboard pub, and as it looked surprisingly empty, we nipped in, grabbed a seat and ordered a beer for me plus a soft drink for Mrs PBT’s. Those readers familiar with previous cruising posts will know the beer I went for, but for the un-initiated, it was a Cunard Black, one of three beers brewed exclusively for the cruise line, by Salisbury Dark Revolution Brewery of Salisbury.

Described as a “breakfast stout,” Cunard Black is much more an Oatmeal Stout, as whilst very enjoyable, I’m not sure that I’d want to be knocking back this 5.7% beer as my first beer of the day! 

Dispensed by what looks like a genuine hand-pump, and served in a pint glass, this tasty and full-bodied jet-black stout represents good value for money at $7.10 a pop (Sterling equivalent (£5.75). Going back to the hand-pump for a minute, whilst I suspect this is the genuine article, I very much doubt that the beer is kept or conditioned in casks.

Battered Atlantic cod, chips and mushy peas was the choice from the menu for the both of us and luckily, we’d obviously picked the right time for lunch as well. It wasn’t long though, before the Golden Lion started to fill up, after more and more people boarded, and presumably were as hungry as we were. Unfortunately for them, these latecomers were to be disappointed, as the pub only serves meals between midday and 3pm. I’ve a feeling that the pair of us will be making frequent use of the Golden Lion, over the next few weeks.

We returned to our cabin afterwards, primarily to unpack, a task which was far quicker for me, than for Eileen who, in deference to Hyacinth Bouquet of “Keeping up Appearances” fame, had brought sufficient outfits for several circumnavigations of the globe! She even used the additional “spare” space present in my suitcase. I jest, but just because there’s no limit on baggage, it still has to be carried, and there is still an airline-style weight limit of 23 Kg per case, as some poor bugger has to carry it!

As well as its own pub, the Queen Victoria has a number of other bars, self-service buffets, restaurants and opportunities for fine dining. All manner of different cuisines is offered, meaning there is something to please everyone. So far, we have made use of the Commodore, and Yacht Clubs, the pool bar, the Lido Buffet self-service restaurant, and the much more formal Britannia Restaurant. Somewhat surprisingly, the latter is a good place for a quiet spot of lunch, or an equally enjoyable breakfast, away from the often-manic Lido Buffet. Kippers feature on the Britannia’s breakfast menu, an attraction I have already experienced for myself.

That’s it for the time being, there will be the occasional other post about cruising, but more importantly, and I’m sure of more interest to readers, reports of the destinations on our itinerary. We have already experienced the delights of the Spanish city of Cadiz, and I look forward to telling you about the parts of Greece, Sardinia and Portugal, that are still to come, as we continue our cruise around the Mediterranean, as well as the Atlantic voyage back to Southampton.

Further tales from the Med - Saturday 7th October

If I’ve done my sums right, this is the fifth cruise that Mrs PBT’s and I have been on, and on the first of two full days at sea, we’ve been getting our bearings. So, after a good night’s rest, that was certainly much needed, followed by breakfast in our cabin, we set off to explore the ship, which is to be our home for the next two and a half weeks.

This is our second time aboard the Queen Victoria, the first being a short, pre-Christmas excursion last November, to Amsterdam. For the lovers of trivia, or superfluous information – I’m thinking of our anonymous troll here, we are just one room away this time, from the cabin we stayed in last year. We followed the wise advice given by Eileen’s late brother-in-law, who along with her sister, was an avid cruiser. Brian sadly passed away just at the start of the COVID pandemic, but along with his wife Lynne, he looked after us on our first “taster” cruise, which was a short, two-night sailing to Zeebrugge and back.

Brian’s advice centred around the position of cabin, which deck was the best, plus the importance of the cabin position, fore or aft.  Several factors come into play here, but mid-ships is generally considered to be the most stable position, an important consideration for those prone to motion sickness. The deck number is also important, as if you’re someone who values peace and quiet. you don’t want to be in a room that is directly below the promenade deck, the dance floor or one of the swimming pools. Cabin position is also reflected in the price charged, and this is another factor to consider when choosing one’s cabin and booking your next cruise.

We have now cruised on all three of Cunard’s Queen ships, and with the recent launch of the line’s latest vessel, and her maiden voyage next spring, the Queen Anne will become the fourth cruise liner in the company’s illustrious line-up. I think we both prefer the Queen Vic, out of the ships we have sailed in so far, but there’s probably not much to choose between her and the Elizabeth. The odd one out, is the Queen Mary 2, and this anomaly is because the latter is deigned as an oceangoing liner, as opposed to a cruise ship. Because of this, the Queen Mary operates primarily on the North Atlantic crossing between Southampton and New York.

To accommodate the sea conditions on what can often be a rough crossing, many of the balcony cabins on the Mary are enclosed, that is to say they are cut out of the upper hull of the ship, so whilst still “open” as far as the views are concerned, they are far less exposed and offer much more protection from the elements, compared to a traditional balcony. The Queen Mary 2 can thus be regarded as the last of the true Atlantic liners.

Mrs PBT’s and I sailed on the QM2 on our cruise to the Norwegian Fjords, last June, and it’s worth focussing for a minute on the different demographics of the people who cruise on the various Cunard liners. The first part of last June’s voyage was characterised by mainly British and American passengers – the ship had, after all, just crossed the Atlantic from New York. Before heading up to Norway, the Queen Mary sailed up the Elbe River, and berthed at the port of Hamburg. Quite a few Americans left the ship there, as did many German passengers returning from a trip to New York. Many of the passengers leaving the ship were replaced by other Germans who, like us, were keen to experience the fjords. Without wishing to stereotype, the Teutonic contingent were quite boisterous, although once you got talking to them, they proved interesting company. Again, without risking upsetting another nationality, the Americans were also loud, but in a different way from the Germans, if that makes sense.

This current cruise, across the Mediterranean, almost exclusively consists of citizens from the UK and Ireland, and the age demographic is older as well. I would say that the majority of the passengers are a similar age to Eileen and I. Most are retired, living the dream possibly, or perhaps not, but from my point of view it would be nice to see a few younger faces. As far as children are concerned, we have only seen two so far, and we have been virtually all over the ship – or at least in all those areas that are not out of bounds to passengers.

Mrs PBT’s has managed to find a tucked away spot right at the fore of Deck 10, where she can vape away to her heart’s content, in the company of other nicotine addicts who prefer to take their poison in more traditional forms. They seem a welcoming bunch though and have proved their weight in gold with useful tips and advice.  As with any of these open areas of deck, drinks are available, courtesy of the waiters who patrol these areas, and I confess to having been tempted on several occasions, by a glass or two of beer from the Cunard range – either the Black Stout, or the Gold Pilsner. Further back along Deck 10, are the two pool areas, although technically the pools are situated on the deck below. Here can be found the varied ranks of sun worshipers – people who grew up in an age where the acquisition of a suntan, as a result of exposure to the sun, was considered desirable, rather than something to be wary of.

I’m currently sitting in one of these shaded “smoking areas” keeping company with Mrs PBT’s, whilst typing out this post at the same time. We’ve spent a lazy morning, although I have still managed to clock up 6.5k steps, following a few laps of the promenade deck, after breakfast. We had lunch in the “posh” restaurant, which saved us from the scrum of the buffet. An announcement from the captain at midday, informed us of a change of itinerary, which means our next stop will now be Crete, rather than the island of Mykonos. This is due to potential issues with tender operation at the latter destination, due to strong winds. Eileen and I don’t mind, as Heraklion in Crete, will prove an easier port to disembark the ship from. We may experience similar issues at Santorini as well, but this is part of the whole cruise experience, so we’ll just sit back, relax and enjoy ourselves, and go wherever the ship takes us.

 

A quick update on the cruise, from somewhere off the coast of Algeria

This article comes to you, courtesy of Mrs PBT’s who, just a day or so into her digital detox, decided that she really needed to reconnect with the world. Consequently, she signed up for a 24-hour, onboard internet package. She received a discount for being a Cunard Gold Club member, although I still won’t say how much the package cost. It might sound a bit hypocritical on my part to be criticising her lack of staying power, especially as I’m taking advantage of her purchase, so I won’t, apart from thanking her for the opportunity of posting this article from the middle of the Mediterranean.

Just so you know, I wrote this article a couple of days ago, so here we go. It’s day two of the cruise, and the second of 10 full days at sea. After yesterday’s overcast and slightly blustery conditions, it’s wall to wall sunshine today, and this afternoon it’s been positively balmy. We’ve spent most of the day cruising down the western coast of Portugal, having completed our, a surprisingly calm crossing of the Bay of Biscay. In the early hours of the morning, we rounded the most north-westerly tip of Spain, at Cape Finisterre (remember the shipping forecast), and commenced our long voyage south.

Tomorrow morning we’re due to berth at the southern Spanish city of Cadiz, the first port of call on the cruise, but in the meantime, it’s sit back, enjoy the sunshine, but not too much of it, and just generally chill out. I’m typing this, and other articles, on the new 13” laptop I treated myself to. You might remember me writing about my search for a suitable, small, portable device, well after much online searching, I found just what I was looking for, and at a reasonable price as well. It’s a Chinese brand called "Jumper" – strange name, but it seems to be doing the business, even though this is the first time I’ve used the device in the field, so to speak.

I’ve written before about cruising being the perfect way to relax, and even when the weather isn’t clement, there’s till nothing like sitting there, reading a book, or even typing out a blog post, whilst watching the wash from Queen Victoria’s powerful engines, disappearing into the distance behind us. We’re sitting at the moment, at the rear of Deck 10, virtually at the top of the ship, overlooking the pool deck, where lots of people are lying on sunbeds, literally frying themselves in the sun.  There’s some quite subtle and very relaxing “mood music” playing out, over the pool deck, but it’s barely audible up here.

Yesterday evening we attended the first of several gala dinners – the ones where the ship’s company encourage diners to dress up – black tie for those identifying as male and black dresses for those who identify as female – he said, facetiously. It was all rather swish, the food was excellent, and for once. The company was good too. This time around, Eileen and I were sat with a couple from Cheshire, who we both described as “down to earth and genuine” which was in stark contrast to some of the over-pretentious bores we’ve been lumbered with on previous cruises.

Tonight, it’s the Lido Buffet, where to be fair, the food is equally good, but you just need to help yourselves. I paid a visit to the Lido this morning, for breakfast, leaving Mrs PBT’s to enjoy her beans on toast, in the room. We almost slept through the waiter’s knock, as despite having been warned by the captain’s announcement about putting clocks and watches forward an hour, we almost slept right through. Looking out the window, dawn certainly seemed a long way off at 8am this morning.

The buffet was packed this morning, but when you’re on your own, you need to grab your food first, before laying claim to a table. Both tasks van proved troublesome but having the sense to procure a cup of coffee first, I had the other hand free, plus a convenient ledge to put my cup down, whilst I piled up my plate. You’ll no doubt be grateful that I don’t intend giving a blow-by-blow account of what I ate, apart from saying they rustle up a fine omelette on the Queen Vic, and they also serve an equally impressive, afternoon tea. This consists of dainty sandwiches (with the crusts removed), cakes, plus scones (with raspberry jam and clotted cream) is something of a tradition on Cunard ships, (it might be on other cruise lines too), but it only happens on sea days.

Eileen and I arrived just after 3pm, expecting the Queen’s Room, where the tea is served, to be half empty, but more seasoned sailors than us, obviously know the score, and the elegant ballroom was packed. The waiting staff still managed to find us a table, and we enjoyed a selection of dainty sandwiches – made with bread with the crusts cut off, a cake, plus a scone or two with strawberry jam and clotted cream. And that’s the trouble on a holiday like this, as unless one is careful, it’s far too easy to pile on the pounds and thereby undo all the good work the pair of us put into losing weight, over the past few months.  

Fortunately, portions are not massive, and given the distances between various locations on board ship, it’s also easy to keep one’s step count up. Without really trying (apart from three laps around the promenade deck), I managed to clock up 10,000+ steps yesterday, and I’m well on the way towards doing the same today. I’m going to have to sign off soon, as the sun is moving round, and it’s getting difficult to see the screen, but I have to say that I really like this combination of taking it easy, watching the ocean roll by, whilst at the same time, bashing out an article or two. It’s a way of life I could become really use to this, but without further ado, I’m going to sign off now, head down to collect Mrs PBT’s from her place in the shade and head off – perhaps for a pre-dinner drink at the Golden Lion – the ship’s pub, and then make our way up to the buffet.

I will update you all, tomorrow possibly, although with time ashore, in Cadiz, it might not be until Thursday that I hit the keyboard again!

Getting ready for the off, with a brief taste of Oktoberfest before we depart

In less than a days’ time, we will be into October, the 10^th month of the year despite the chronological mismatch of its name and, as ever I have to ask the question where has the year gone? The fact that as we grow older the years seem to fly by quicker, is just one of the cruel tricks that nature plays on us, but as there's little, we can do about it, we just have to do our best to make full use of the time that we are given. I thought I'd been doing quite well actually in this respect, until mid-August, having enjoyed days out, in some of Britain’s leading beer cities, as well as visiting some cracking pubs, closer to home.

I had another trip scheduled for mid-August, in the form of a well-planned, trip around some of the Black Country’s classics pubs. Then, less than a week away from my Black Country tour, COVID came knocking at my door, for the third time! (How did that happen?). Worse was to come as I ended up passing the virus on to Mrs PBT’s. I'm still not sure whether she has forgiven me, as what made the situation worse was her testing positive on our wedding anniversary!

To be honest, I'm still not sure what the fuss is about, because we don’t normally make a huge fuss in the Bailey household, over such anniversaries, in fact there have been times when both of us have forgotten the whole thing altogether. Unfortunately, it's a convenient point to hang something on, and not something to argue against logically. So, in the interests of peace, harmony, and marital bliss, I've been keeping my head down. Annoyingly I've missed out on several CAMRA bus trips, a Pub of the Year presentation, plus one of the best beer festivals around. This just happened to be the launch of this year’s Kent Green Hop Beers Fortnight, which took place, as usual, at the Canterbury Food & Drink Festival. The event was missing for a couple of years, due to COVID (what else?), so I was really looking forward to its return, the other week.

The launch of Kent Green Hop Beer Fortnight is one of the very few festivals I attend these days, and as the weather is normally set fair at this time of year, the surroundings of Canterbury 's Dane John Gardens, make the perfect setting for enjoying a few of these “one off” ales, brewed with freshly picked hops. When there’s a touch of late autumn sunshine, to warm the happy faces of festival goers, it makes for a fantastic day out. Small wonder then it has always been one of my favourite events of this time of year.

Getting around the country by train, hasn’t been particularly easy this year, due to the preponderance of rail strikes, and whilst the trade unions involved are required by law to give a minimum of two weeks’ notice, before walking it out, it does make long-term planning that little bit harder, especially when it comes to buying Advanced Saver tickets, for long distance journeys. I don't want to say too much, but with both government and unions dug in, and neither side prepared to compromise, it looks like this problem will effect Proper Day’s Out, for some time to come.

Now where was I? Keeping a low profile, as for some strange and illogical reason, my good lady wife has it in her head, that public houses are one of the prime places for contracting COVID. She’s quite happy for me to go to work, and mix with colleagues, many of whom could potentially be carrying the plague, but somehow, it's pubs that are the problem. Talk about female logic when a total lack of logic would be more appropriate!

I’ve largely gone along with her concerns during the run-up to our cruise, which departs from Southampton in a couple of days’ time, but yesterday I had a few errands to run down the town. One of which was a very necessary visit to the podiatrist, to sort out a couple of ingrowing toenails, that were giving me grief. With plenty of circuits around the promenade deck in mind, the last thing I want is to be hobbling around in agony.

After my treatment, I called in at Sainsbury’s for a few last-minute bits and pieces, but also to pick up some Euros, for trips ashore. Mission accomplished, it was time for a beer, and despite Mrs PBT’s misgivings, I headed for Fuggles Beer Café at the top end of the High Street. I was aware from their website, that they had a couple of genuine Oktoberfest beers on tap. By genuine, I mean beers that are actually served at the main event in Munich. The festival itself draws to a close early next week, but the team at Fuggles had managed to obtain all six Oktoberfest beers.

The offerings from Paulaner and Hacker-Pschorr, were the only two left, so not wishing to miss out completely, I entered Fuggles and made my way to the bar. The place was relatively quiet for a Thursday afternoon, with bar staff nearly outnumbering customers, but after studying the blackboard lists behind the bar, I was pleased to see the two aforementioned beers were still available, along with a couple of homegrown Oktoberfest beers.

Torn between Paulaner and Hacker-Pschorr, I opted for a half pint of each, and given that both had an abv of around 6%, this was probably a smart move. I made the barman chuckle though, by saying I knew one was supposed to drink these beers by the litre, but could I just have just a half of each. He grinned and poured them for me, making sure I knew which one was which. That was easy because colour played a role with the Paulaner, being the traditional gold colour one would expect, whilst the Hacker-Pschorr version was much more of an amber colour.

This is because it is brewed with the characteristics of a true Märzen beer. As I explained in a previous article, Märzen was the style of beer served at Oktoberfest until the mid-1970s, when lighter, golden coloured beers became the norm. It was interesting trying both styles side by side, as the Paulaner version was definitely sweeter than the Hacker-Pschorr brew, but the letter was probably better balanced.

I enjoyed them both, but wondered what it would be like chugging back a litre of each. Pretty good I imagine, especially when swept up in the fervour of what is promoted is the world's largest Folk Festival. Picture sitting, side by side, at a long table, with a group of people, swaying along, singing, whilst at the same time knocking back those massive 1 litre Maβ glass mugs of beer. And, as we have already discussed, it isn’t just any beer that’s served up in the festival tents, it’s those strong, 6% Fest bier specials, that I had a brief taste of in Fuggles. I’m sure that the contents of those   impressive glass mugs would slide down a treat.

It’s back to reality this morning, and the final packing for our cruise. We’ve a taxi booked for the morning (ouch!), but with the car still in at the dealers, and son Matthew not particularly confident about motorway, or long-distance driving, we’ve had to bite the bullet, and go by cab. Dependent on wi-fi connections, or data, I shall try and post from some of the destinations we dock up, but if not, there will be an awful lot of catching up to do upon my return.

Letting the train take the strain

After eight days with my car still parked at the local Skoda dealer, and no update either as to what the fault might be, I remain car-less. It's like having your arm chopped off, but with the weather remaining quite mild and with not much rain either, it hasn't been that much of an issue. Having said that, I remain unimpressed with the service I’ve received from this main dealer, and whilst I won't embarrass them by naming and shaming, their current staffing issues must be similar to our own. This seems to be the way of the world at the moment.

These past six days I've been travelling to and from work either by train or by a mixture of lifts from son Matthew or from a colleague.  I've quiet enjoyed travelling in by train, and walking to and from the station at either end means I’ve easily clocked up 10,000 steps a day. The train ride itself is pleasant as well, although somewhat confusingly, the station at Chiddingstone Causeway where my company is based, is called Penshurst despite the village of that name being a couple of miles away.

Penshurst station is only two stops from Tonbridge on the line towards Redhill, and because I'm going against the flow of commuting traffic, the trains are not too crowded. When they pull in at Tonbridge station each morning, before making the return journey to Redhill, the sheer volume of school kids they disgorge onto the platform has to be seen to be believed.

This is because the town is a centre of educational excellence with two girls grammar schools (equivalent), one boy’s grammar, plus two other schools, one for each sex. One of those is Eileen’s old school, which had something of a reputation, back in the day, plus the comprehensive where Matthew spent six years of his life, getting up to mischief and not really learning as much as he should have done. 

So speaks the judgmental parent, but against this background, it’s small wonder that property prices in the area are so high. Trains on the Tonbridge-Redhill line operate on an hourly basis, although at morning and early evening peak times, there were two services every hour, in both directions. This works out fine for work, but even so, I'm looking forward to the return of my vehicle, when we return from holiday.  

Now for a few interesting facts about this rail line, which forms an important east-west, cross-country link.  The railway between Tonbridge and Redhill was part of the original line from London to the Channel coast and after following the course of a natural gap in the chalk hills, to the south of the capital as far as Redhill, departed from the mainline and turned east towards Tonbridge, Ashford and ultimately, Folkestone.  It wasn't until the 1870’s that the more direct route north-west, via Sevenoaks was opened, its construction prior to this having been hindered by lines of steep hills, namely the North Downs and the Greensand Ridge. Crossing these natural barriers necessitated building several tunnels as well as a number of deep cuttings.

When I first moved to Tonbridge in the mid 1980’s, the line towards Redhill was operated by diesel multiple units (DMU’s for the train anoraks out there), but a few years British Rail finally found the funds to electrify the line, a move which provided a seamless link into the rest of the South East rail network.  As well as a busy line in its own right, the link between Tonbridge and Redhill, serves as a useful diversionary route, which is particularly useful when engineering work is taking place on the line that runs through Sevenoaks.

Even before electrification I became quite familiar with this line, particularly during the early days of my involvement with West Kent CAMRA. The railway facilitated evening visits to pubs, such as Little Brown Jug, opposite Penshurst station, as well as for visits to pubs in small town of Edenbridge. If we were feeling really adventurous, we’d continue to the end of the line at Redhill, where the Home Cottage, a large Victorian pub belonging to Young's brewery, served as the ideal meeting point for joint socials between WK CAMRA and the local Reigate & Redhill branch.

I made a return visit to the Home Cottage last year, whilst waiting for a connection back to Tonbridge. This was after completing a section of the North Downs Way. The Tonbridge-Redhill line proved especially useful whilst walking other sections of this long-distance footpath, along with the western extension of the line towards Guildford.  

This section, known as the North Downs Line, is still awaiting electrification,
something that is unlikely to happen given the fragmented nature of the rail network, and the botched privatisation designed for the benefit of shareholders, at the expense of passengers and rail workers. Diesel, or not this section of line was very useful towards the end of my NDW, as it allowed me to access various stopping off points along the way, at remote stations such as Betsworth and Gomshall, as I walked towards the penultimate section of the walk, between Guildford and Farnham.

I’ve finished at work now until after our holiday, which means three weeks away from the office. I’ve had to work like a Trojan getting everything up to date before turning the expansion project I’m involved with, over to colleagues. They will then look after the next phase and take care of my responsibilities during my absence.  In the meantime, I’m off for some last minute shopping, before making a start on the packing, so that’s all for the time being.