Mothering Sunday

 Yesterday had been a quiet day for Albina and me. I had attended three lectures, one on the Taj Mahal, and two on Singapore's history and culture. I confess to a partial snooze in all three. I do recall most about the life of Raffles, the founder of Signapore as a trading hub of the East India Company. It was a fustrating day for both of us as there was no internet connection for much of the day. Albina was not able to resume her conversation with her friends until the evening, constantly checking with me on time differences with London and Warsaw. Contact with Sandro in Finland seemed even less succesful. It was Indian night but Albina and I felt no particular desire to participate in anything, and the last thing Albina wanted was Indian food, served at the Poolside during the evening. The only alternative venue for warm food that evening was the posh Borealis Restaurant. Albina preferred to have sandwiches in the cabin, while I ate at our reserved table in the restaurant, which we otherwise now never use. 

Sammie responded to my offer to do a lecture on Verne's book and its comparison with our cruise. She suggested we meet to discuss it after we leave Hong Kong, more than a week away. That is potentially a big exercise awaiting me. 

I was disappointed to hear that Iga Swiatek had lost to Rybakina in the Indian Wells Tournament semi-finals. That is the second time this year that Rybakina has beaten her. Possibly we may have a couple of years of this Swiatek-Rybakina rivalry, as with Federer and Nadal in the past. In he meantime new younger girs are coming foward to challenge them.

I was finally able to revise my final version of the Indian excursions and get in online when internet connection seemed to restore themselves after midnight.

Today is a Sunday, Mothering Sunday in fact. Or at least Mothering Sunday in the UK. You can tell Borealis is an island of Britishness sailing the world's oceans, both by many of the forms of  entertainment (where else would you have a ukelele class every other day) and its unique date for celebrating Mothering Sunday, just before Easter.  At Sharon's request I attended the morning service in the Neptune Theatre to hear the choir sing a beautiful rendition of "The Lord is my Shepherd". She sat in the front row of the choir. I also bought an extra excursion ticket for Albina to join me on a city tour of Singapore. For some reason she was omitted when I first ordered all the tickets in London. Probably Albina herself had argued at the time that she had already visited Singapore before in transit to her holiday in Bali. 

I also asked Guest Services to confirm to Sammie Firbanks that I could meet her on 28th March as she requested to discuss my possible lecture. 

 The Ocean remains obligingly calm as we glide our way past the mysterious Nicobar Islands in the direction of Singapore. We are in fact entering the Andaman Sea. We will reach Singapore it in two days' time.

We have had a flood in part of our cabin. The management offerred us an alternative cabin, number 6142 on the port side but still midships. We checked it out. The layout was exactly the same as the old one, but the actual fabric of the curtains and the chair seemed superior, the door to the balcony does not squeak so loudly, and the floor by the entrance is even.This is after all an old ship and these things can happen. As compensation the management offerred us a complementary night of our choice at the Colours and Tastes Restaurant. Unfortunately, the move was so protracted that I missed my regular quiz night.

Late night surprise from Sandro. He rang through from Turku in Finland wishing Albina a Happy Mother's Day. How he remembered is a mystery as he is not in Britain where commercial advertising might have reminded him. Albina was so pleased.