Mexican Night

 Borealis Tuesday 25.04.2023

Started the day with a quick around the Observation Deck on Deck 3 and then up for breakfast. It is hot and humid on the deck and this is only partially relieved by a small sea breeze. When you open the door back into the ship the air conditioning hits you like a sudden cold shower. 

Went for my 8am appoitment with the chiropodist at the spa. She dealt with an ingrained toe nail, massaged my feer and polished the nails to make them shine. That last was to impress Albina that this had been done properly.

Have been trying to book that flight to Poland for the Book Fair which I am to attend at the end of May, but unfortunately I cannot make contact for the special reduced prices for former BA staff because the programme has played havoc again with the passwords and wants all sorts of strange details about Albina to establish her identity.

We know that we passed the coast Guatemala in the night, and that of El Salavador in the morning. We are now passing the coast of Nicaragua, another of these benighted poor countries relying mostly on single crop agricultural exports and with often ruthless brutal governments. In an instant we can pass them by on our port bow and forget they even existed, like a bad dream.That does not sound generous, but those sad countries remain outside the mainstream of world politics and are only remembered when some grotesque misjugdement or massacre takes place. We are on our way to their southern neighbour, Costa Rica, which seems to have had a happier history, possibly because they opted to abolish their national army.

We spent the early afternoon half reading and half dozing in the Library, with Albina enjoying a Coffee Royale and myself an Emperor Breakfast Tea, along with two outsize cakes. Then up we went to the buffet restaurant for an afternoon tea. What excess! But at least we ignored the cakes and only took very choice shrimp and pulled pork sandwiches. Duing tea we ran into a lovely couple from Kent, Ron and Jill. It transpired he was ninety (he looked o be in his upper seventies) and had married Jill less than 10 years ago after they met on a Fred Olsen boat. They spent more time every year on an Olsen vessel rather than in their home. They were like gypsies, always on the move, even meeting Olsen staff who themselves had moved from one Olsen ship to another. Their cabin was their wagon. He had been a policeman, a soldier, an airline pilot, and now he was relaxed and making what you can with the rest of your life. He was also very much a Home Counties man, aghast at the speech and antics of some of the more boisterous Northern England cruise passengers.    

That evening was Mexican Night. I had nothing particular to wear. I had not found anything for tonight as I was so busy in Acapulco. Nevertheless, I went up to the Poolside on Deck 8 in the early evening and spent around half an hour chatting to friends, sampling the Mexican food and taking a few photos. The whole live music celebration lasted a total of 6 hours with a range of musicians, including the Stattus Band, the Borealis String Trio and the ever present guitarist singer Howard Johnson, who has been with us since Southampton, always plays us in on the Evening Quiz Night in Morning Light Lounge, and then plays us out after the quiz is over.  By then I had long since returned to the cabin to continue my letter to Polish Deputy Foreign Minister Arkadiusz Mularczyk concerning his madcap plan to elicit $1.5 trillion war reparations from the German government. He will be speaking in London next week and I decide to send an open letter criticizing his motivation while still on my cruise.  

As for the evening quiz at 9 out of 15, we might as well not have bothered. We were way out.