Paul:
It is 00.30 hours, the fog is thick and the multi tone QM2 fog horn sounds every 30 seconds. Our cabin is roughly midship and I can hear it very clearly. Perhaps Cunard puts only the deafest passengers at the aft decks. Tonight Amanda and I saw a magnificent show of big band dancing at the Royal Court theatre. Big glitzy and fast moving, fabulous stuff. Amanda thought I wasn't enjoying it and made to walk out! Luckily we stayed!! It was by accident that I suggested it rather than stay at the masked ball, which was like any other ball room night except people had come dressed as cyber men or the characters from the Wicker Man. There was a prize for best mask on parade won by a man wearing masks on his shirt and his head...I think he was selling them earlier outside and got caught up with the party. A more dramatic parade was the chefs' parade at dinner. Hundreds of men in chef's hats marched at speed through the dining area up and down sweeping stair cases waving to the loud applause of us diners.
Our waiter Arnel sneaked us both lobster and Chateaubriand as a surf and turf and it was fantastic with Dauphinoise potatoes and green veg. He is hoping to get a few hours on dry land this Saturday in New York. A Scandinavian lady photographed us having dinner and an Asian man photographed on our way to dinner; they can't enough of photography here.
Part of our day was completing forms for a suitcase to be flown back to London. This was too much like hard work now I have fallen into step with the deserving indolent. Our line dance today was a review of the earlier week's dancing - new to us...and two new dances as well. I got to dance with 14 different women different ages and different abilities but all, I am pleased to say better than mine! I really ought not to wear my Harris tweed jacket because at the end I have lost 2 pints of water in sweat.
The rest of the day was spent walking the deck, finishing my book, 'Lewis Man', Amanda threatening violent to the lunch time waiters, an evening drink of fizz in the Veuve Cliquot bar and helping Amanda into a rubik's cube of a dress for the ball. It seemed to be a complicated garment to put on that involved yards of kinked lattice ribbon tied sufficiently tight to constrict her breathing and taking hours to complete. It looked good on her though once it was finished. Our clocks go back another hour tonight. Amanda was pleased to be liberated from her full length dress.
Amanda:
Paul is required to be my valet today by lacing me into a complicated balldress. It takes a concentrated 20 minutes with muttering under his breath and I sense he needs a drink afterwards to recover. We head off to the champagne bar where we enjoy a half bottle of Veuve Cliquot with strawberries. I sit uncannily upright - good posture is inevitable in a balldress. Various degrees of effort has been made. Paul looks very handsome in his black tie and I take a moment to feel sorry for a beautifully clad woman whose male companion is in an unattractive suit with a red shirt and novelty tie. Paul likes to spot those men in fake bow ties - they are very much the majority but Paul can tie his own and it looks so much better.
Earlier in the day we went for our second line dancing class: we learnt the Cotton Eye Joe which involves moving round from partner to partner. Three people say how expert a dancer I am and one man clearly doesn't believe me when I say it's my second go ever. I dance briefly with The Boots lady's husband who says they've been to Tennessee to dance (presumably the origin of The Boots) - he too thought I had been line dancing for some time. He does not have Boots but trainers and is a good foot taller than me - twirling under his arm feels as if there is nothing above me! We go on to a well-deserved lunch, rather flushed, where Paul entertains the bemused and amused waiter by making his choices according to a version of spin the bottle, played with his glasses case.
Dinner is amazing with our agonised choice between lobster tail and Chateaubriand taken away by our waiter who instantly suggests 'surf and turf', an expression I thought had died in the 80s but, judging by our meal, needs to be brought back. We retrieve our masks and head in to the ballroom but it's a bit weird and I remember why masks freak me out. I tease Paul by saying someone has come in a Scream mask but there is actually someone who has a mask exactly like his face underneath, drawn on glasses and all, which is the stuff of nightmares. The great dancing in the theatre helps me forget this - accompanied by a good swing band and some indifferent singers, the dancers are actually incredibly good. And the costumes are wonderful too. I'm glad we got to see this - all Paul's idea too, I had thought he'd hate it and hadn't suggested it!
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