Outward Bound, New Year’s Day

I was up at 07:30 and having a full English by 08:00. Nothing unremarkable in that except for 2 things: (1) I was pretty much the only fool on the boat paying for it, as opposed to having tokens and (2) If I’d mis-timed this by half an hour, I would have been queuing for a very long time indeed, perhaps forever. Still it was worth the tenner and the staff told me a neat trick of taking extra pots of hot water for which I wouldn’t be charged, but which could be readily converted into free tea.

The hangover was still not really evident yet, but I knew what was coming, so after breakfast I strolled on to the nearest bar. I was rather surprised to find you could get a pint of Strongbow at 08:30 in the morning, but evidently not as surprised as the waiter was to be asked for one. I hadn’t been sat down more than 5 minutes when a voice from behind me said, “Where did you get that, mate?” I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder at the bar, and so began my friendship with Dave, a 40 something, from Buckinghamshire I think. We got on famously for what remained of the voyage (1 day and night for me), and shared various stories of alcohol related gaffs. His worst was a 'moment' of madness during which he was caught by his wife in the car, in the garage, in flagrante with the neighbour, an event which predictably ended his 20 year marriage, and did nothing to temper his alcohol intake.

Dave was accompanied by Sean, who was a prison warden in womens' prisons, and had locked the door on most of Britain’s finest in recent years, including Rose West. Sean had a bizarre habit of sloping quietly off to get another pint while his current one was well over half full. Maybe the psychologists amongst you can explain this, but Dave and I found it hilarious. He was one step away from buying a pint before he'd bought the one he had yet to drink, if that makes any sense. Anyway, we all decided it was a shame we could no longer ship prisoners off to distant lands like in the good old days, but the risk of them returning with a vengeance was too great - witness the Aussie bar syndrome in London.

The three of us mossied around the ship’s bars for most of the morning and into the afternoon, rattling off a couple of games of bingo along the way (£1000 jackpots too, which we were spectacularly far from winning). By mid-day, the whole ship was sat in front of some form of booze, and the atmosphere was buzzing again, and seats were getting hard to find. We helped by parting briefly for a mid afternoon break, before taking up again around 17:00.

This evening's entertainment was Robbie Williams, although we weren't paying much attention. Unfortunately my schedule meant that I was going to have to be in a fit state to drive around the Pyrenees the day after, so I had to make an effort to retire to bed soon after. I hate leaving parties ridiculously early, but Dave and I swapped email addresses, although if I missed anything, he won’t remember a bloody thing to tease me with anyway.