Bear and Jackie’s Travel Diary

Woke up on our final morning to glassy waters and crystal blue skies, wannabe influencers wafting around on stand up paddle boards desperately trying to convince people that they will never meet, that they must hit a ‘like’ button on their accounts in the hope of never actually needing a real job. For the tiny percentage that will ever earn enough for a Balinese Bintang, I wish you the very best of luck and hope your phone is waterproof!

Back onto Bluewater Express for us and the 3 hour blast back to Serangan. 6, 250HP Suzuki’s and a beer or two made short work of the trip before we were happily awaiting our transport to Uluwatu. All very civil, “Pink Coco for Bear and Jackie” over the tannoy as we make our way sheepishly to our SUV. Thought that a couple of ales would be pleasant for the 1 hour trip so nipped into the little supermarket for provisions. Big mistake as 1 hour morphs to 2 and our driver opts for the 4WD track. Arrived at Pink Coco check-in and bolted for the bladder emptying facilities.

Some of the reviews of this place were a touch edgy but our penthouse suite was well away from any potential room key raffle sessions! Unreal views over the forest to the ocean and perfect serenity. Grabbed a change of underwear and clothes before heading to dinner.

As a chef, I have fairly lofty standards when it comes to things proclaiming to be food. Starters were epic and scoffed, sans evidence. Smoked Butterfish Ceviche and a steamed vongole thingy in some sort of sweet jar were incredible and delicious. Box firmly ticked and looking forward to mains. This sadly became a 180 degree turn from our starters. Confit Duck breast with plum sauce and 24 hour braised octopus on a bed of something looked pretty good if you have never eaten confit duck or octopus. I could have saved a fortune at my local cobbler by having the bloke nail that bugger onto the soles then using the octopus as the shoelaces, fu(k that! Didn’t fancy offending the chef and risking a side of Bali Belly sauce, so nipped over the road for plate of sardines and prawns before bed.

Happy AF that there was no rattle of keys or gentle taps on the door as we snuggled into our pink pillows and a blissful sleep.

Scampered down to the very pink dining room the next morning to fetch tea, coffee and general wakey, wakey bits for J4X. Noticed a lass or two there who looked like they had a sh!tty experience with bees overnight, somehow though, just stung on the lips, looked fu(king ugly and painful, keep an eye out for bees in Uluwatu! Bees heaps: Influencers 0. Also kept a beady eye out for the octopus/duck destroyer then nipped back up 3 flights of stairs to our birds nest, mission accomplished.

Thought that a wander to Uluwatu Beach was a good idea. It was, including the moment that the ticket office relieved us of a handful of Rupiah. Down the dodgy steps we go and wow, the beach. Maybe we are spoiled a little with the best beaches in the world but this is a new low. Barely enough standing room for the thousand or so ticket paying attendees. Way less room when the instagram set have made camp right on the shoreline. A small tsunami soon clears out the first row or two. Waves 50ish: Influencers and idiots 0

Maybe the bar at the end of the beach offers some respite from the cycle-short wearing, trout face, bee sting lip types? No not really, although it did provide some entertainment as an opportunistic member of the local monkey troupe grabbed a wallet and headed for the cliffs. Monkey 1: Influencers 0

Wallets and sunnies secure and not fancying a cliff climb or possession hunt, a return to pink perfection and a shower was the democratically voted option. Off out to dinna with Hazza and Jazza for our last night here. Teju and Temu sound similar, one is cheap, Chinese and generally tacky. The other is an astounding restaurant looking down the valley. Holy crap and thank you beautiful Harri and James for finding this gem, can’t wait to see you in Sydney this Xmas.

Did find an amusing sign in the dunny. Personally, have never found the urge to give the feet a rinse in one of these. Back to our room for a slightly past curfew bedtime!

Gentle uppy up in the morning and the obligatory tea/coffee. Then a last tickle at Bali style, poached eggs on muffins before our 12 noon checkout. Dumped the bags at reception and decided to head for pastures less pink! Ulu Fish Market seemed like a cracking idea, so hopped into a cab in search of sushi and Bintang. Shady, heaps of fans, world class nibbles and icy cold beer, what could possibly go wrong?

10pm flight booked and Google Maps says 1hr to the airport. Have given up listening to Google Maps and guessed a solid 2 hours. Sadly not far wrong, but as the one hour mark passed and remembering the leg crossing distress of the Bintang assisted journey from the Port up here, definitely regretting that seventh beer during the afternoon. Seatbelt now anchored firmly around the knee and avoiding all pressure on the bladder region. Sweats building gently as serious shakes and visual impairment become a concern, bloody Google Maps still says half an hour to go. Seriously starting to lose the will to live as the tiny water bottle in the seat pocket shapes up as a legitimate target. How the hell am I going to discharge the water bottle contents, then 3 large Pilsners and 4 Bintangs via the window without significant spillage or attracting the driver’s attention? Fortunately for all concerned, gentlemen’s behaviour took priority, water bottle still safe for the next passenger and the pointy water faucet remained enclosed. Thank fu(k for a speedy check in and a zoom through to the lounge. Large gin and Tonic please!

Cheers QF44, coming home xxx What an awesome trip xxxx

Time for a bit of a mooch around the island! Didn’t fancy subjecting myself or the ponies to another game of, ‘Drag the bear in a small cart’, so opted for a a more suitable electric scooter. This thing is good for about 25 kph with a fair wind behind, but perfect for hauling us on the quest for the coldest beer. Unlike the failed kebab hunt in Turkiye with the unforgivable sin of chips ‘IN’ the bloody kebab, beer here has been pretty acceptable. With few exceptions the beverage  that seemingly sponsors many hairy armed Aussies, has been cold, plentiful and cheap. Our little scooter did pretty much what it says on the tin, not a lot! My whipper-snipper gets moving quicker than this thing. There is a handy horn for annoying influencers mid content filming and a light for those, after dark/shoulda left earlier, occasions. A gentle potter up to Turtle Beach on the North of the Island was first on the agenda. Beach bean bags settled into. 2 ice cold Bintangs please. A mumble of Bahasa suggested that we were off to a poor start. “I can put a few in the freezer”, chirps our friendly waiter. Hmmm, was kinda hoping for now ish on the first beer front! Simple, speedy solution implemented by brand substitution, crisis avoided! 

J4X managed to befriend a local lawnmowing/fertilising contractor before the greedy little bugger made a B-line for the straw hat. Time to fire up the trusty scooter and amble on. 

Generally, I get to be the only bear on the premises, so a little surprised to find a whole row them taking up the sofas, slurping ale and generally being rowdy. Another round of Bintangs please!

Pink Coco up next! We have booked into a Pink Coco hotel for our last couple of nights in Uluwatu, so keen for a shoofty! Pink is a bit of an understatement and the all glass internal walls could be a touch confronting. Also confronting is the possibility that guests in this adults only venue possibly share more than Bintangs. No dramas with pink or glass walls but certainly not a fan of the whole, ‘room keys into the hat’ thing so will be avoiding that like the plague if it rears its ugly head. Two gin and tonics please. Got to love a venue that starts 2 for 1 happy hour at midday. Cheers!

Off back to our humble abode for a siesta before a trip back West for sunset. Weather looked a little iffy later, but sod it, only water right. Half way round the island, the water was getting a tad shouty, so hit the brakes and dived into a bar before the skies opened. Grazed out way though some nibbles and a selection of beverages waiting for the rain to stop. Spotted a couple of lasses looking a touch damp on horseback. Have to assume they were off to shoot some sunset footage and came off second best. Weather 2: Influencers 0. 

Just as the weather was clearing, Essex couple, Lee and Ellie from the wedding pop up so off we go to the Irish bar to say hi. Couple of quiet libations before navigating flooded roads back to bed.

I blame it on the weather, but woke up with an annoyingly sore ear. That and the colds we have been incubating appear to reaching their adult phase. Off to the Quack then! General anti snot/coughy stuff prescribed plus ear drops and a session on the nebuliser for JAX. Our sponsors, ElfBar, Gordon’s and Bintang have denied any responsibility for this.

Another gentle arvo before heading out on the scoot for a sunset feed. On the way home, the poor little scooter battery went from 3 bars of happiness to angry flashing red in about 200 metres, so sloped into last night’s rain refuge for a few nightcaps and another fire dance session, whilst the scoot slurped enough charge to get us home.

Hoping some of this anti cold/ear stuff does some of its business before the morning and our boat ride across the Lombok Straight!

So, the wedding of a lifetime quietly ends as family and friends drift to other parts of the island. For us, a gentle 20ish km to the port town of Serangan before hopping on a boat the next day. An hour or so, Bali’s version of Uber said. No worries, we stocked up on a few cold ones and hopped into the back. Almost 2 hours later the driver stops at a 24hr mart for a piss, we decided this would be a perfect opportunity to grab some more piss and hop back into the cab! Bladders were a touch feisty as we checked into our new home! 

Bladders now empty, we headed out for a refill and a feed. The thought of hopping onto a boat across the Lombok Straight the next morning was there somewhere as we ordered the seafood platter and a few Bintangs. The platter arrived coated in some unidentifiable brown sauce, and everything else with a serving of chilli something. We will always be a team, so we tucked in together. Not sure if nappies are available tomorrow, may need them. Still peckish after round 1 so smashed out some octopus and a few more prawns, with more Bintang! What could possibly go wrong?

Wobbled back to our digs and overjoyed to find the bar open! It has been a crazy day on top of a couple of crazy weeks. A couple of nightcap Bintangs and we were tucked up in bed. 

Waking up was always going to dictate the next day. An urgent dash to the porcelain was going to be a sure clue that a long, painful day lay ahead. Thankfully, no such sprinting required, quiet brekky and a short ride to the port where we met up with Hazza and Jazza. The ride from Serangan to Gili T is only about 100km. Some of the vessels plying their trade on this route look a little worse for wear and have clearly seen more use than your average Bali dunny. The worrying sight of the ‘Ozempic/Need a seatbelt extender set’ frantically waving paper fans was comical but slightly disturbing. The boat we chose was rated by some as “The least worst!” In reality it was a less than a year old, a 26 metre beast with four inboard 380HP diesels. Seats were comfy AF and fully airconditioned. Oh, and a handy bar for washing down the sea sickness tablets that they hand out when you check in, don’t mind if I do!

Couple of hours later and we arrive at Gili Trawangan. Our new home was deliberately only a few minutes walk from the port, so off we trotted. On the subject of trotting though, that is the only horsepower on the Island. The 4 legged variety. The other transport are pushbikes or electric scooters. Sounds like paradise.

Paradise it is, utter peace and quiet, a short walk from an almost unlimited selection of bars and restaurants. Did pretty much sweet FA on our first night and slid back to our room. Our ‘room’ here is spacious and comfortable inside, with our own walled garden, private pool and daybed. Gunna be a great week.

Tempted by a spot of snorkelling, we bumped into a lad who claimed he was starting a new business, had a 6 month old boat and would take the 4 of us out for four hours for about AU$150. Dumb, maybe. But sometimes, a bit of faith and a squirt of hope works out. 6 month old boat was probably a wee porky, but the trip was epic. Given that most of the popular tourist spots are swamped, setting out an hour early is an awesome idea. Soon enough though, other vessels show up looking like they have taken a wrong turn from the French Coast! Heaps of life jacket wearing hopefuls clinging to floaties and wondering why they can’t dive down. Funny but sad! Not sad however, is the speed that 4 people can hop back onto a vessel and zoom off to the next spot. Not sure if the life jacket mobs made it to Kent or another dive site but we spent the rest of the day in clear water. Awesome corals, turtles and fish a plenty. No buyers remorse on this one, tipped the guys handsomely and headed home for a nap.

Heading out to dinner on the other side of the island, we opted for the horse and cart taxi. Personally, when it comes to beasts. Horses, elephants and dogs are well down the page. On the plus side, however, Gili T has no elephants or dogs and the pony that dragged our rickety little cart for 10 mins was entirely inoffensive.

Sunset here generally involves avoiding or pushing so-called influencers out of the way. Grabbed a couple of piccies and returned to the safety of our sofas. Safety here however is never guaranteed. A couple of chaps appeared looking like they had raided some hotel bedrooms and pinched amongst other stuff, a few hat stands. The ends were wrapped with oil soaked bandages and hey presto, fire dance! Even more impressive when one of the aforementioned bandages detached from the hat stand and set fire to a tablecloth. Fire chap, 1: Influencers, 0.

Tomorrow is a new day.

So it’s adios Türkiye. A week of fun and games here and the search of the perfect Döner Kebab, some walking and a wind down from madness that Richard Branson served up. Self served stuff in Barcelona, a bath or two and a few walks with a lager or two in Istanbul. Sadly, we have to admit defeat in the kebab matter as excuses around inflation have now invaded the original late night snack. I have to confess to scoffing a fair number of these greasy, chilli sauce infested delicacies, often whilst waiting at the end of some underground station for a cab after falling asleep and being woken up by frustrated staff.

Imagine ordering your Döner in London or Sydney, (Or anywhere else for that matter), watching the delicious landslide of grease and other things that cascade with each expert knife swipe. Then watch as some clown weighs out a pathetic grammage and pops it into a pita with a bunch of French Fries! Are you fu(king kidding? There would be riots on the streets and protests! Never, ever have I ordered fries with a Döner, no way they will taste good with congealed kebab in the morning. Never, ever have I seen fries IN the kebab, except here in the home of kebabs in Turkey. A fu(king disgrace! Head away from the touristy areas and this evil behaviour is still pervasive. About AU$30 for a few scraps of dodgy offcuts mixed with fried potatoes.

Fortunately, we found a couple of decent eateries in Kadıköy offering dishes, sans fries embedded. Managed to smash an iron/protein dish without fries, liver, octopus, sardine and unidentified seafood mainly! Luxury Turkish bath one arvo for Mrs T and a couple of local beverages for the Bear. A stack of walks and ferry rides, too good.

16 Million humans in this City, probably 14 million or so involved in some sort of floor covering, weighed offal, fake jewellery or knock off replica goods enterprises. We have a habit of sniffing out misbehaviour, honesty, fun and have enjoyed every experience we’ve encountered to the max. Enjoyed this one, yes. Return, no. Sorry.

After the last taxi experience, we swore never again. Local hotel says cab is the easiest way to the airport and we must have had an unfortunate experience with Travis Bickle on the way in. OK then, let’s go. OMG, Travis mark II arrives in what looks like a Russian car out of an old Bond movie, here we go again! All good until he gets over about 100kph and the car starts to vibrate. Travis/Mehmet decides that his vehicle may be somewhat unroadworthy so stops to hop out for an inspection. He gives all four wheels a good kick or two, then a shake with his ape sized hands before hopping back in and barking some Turkish into a translation app. “Don’t worry, just a bent rim”, as he blasts back up to 130. If it’s going to end this way, so be it, I grab Jackie’s sweltering paw and hope for the best. If it’s going to be this way, a couple of thousand skydives together and a stack more misbehaviour then slide out on a dodgy wheel, so be it, we exit together.

The Imam’s are screeching in the background. We hold hands and look each other in the eye until somehow, the airport turnoff mercifully arrives and the rear wheel of our rented chariot starts smoking. We hand him a hefty tip and suggest he visits his local mechanic.

Gate 5 at the airport is for people who paid a few more pennies for airline transport, so in we go. Fast track through the general grubbiness and queues of check-in, security and passport control then off to the lounge. Still no kebab, so giving up on protein and focussing on more enjoyable stuff.

Still no bloody kebab in the lounge, and the bar is a little trolly of bottles, could be worse😃

On the flight now. Happily looking forwards to the long flight and our beautiful house xxx

Starting to look like Coco the Clown again so I ventured out onto the streets of Istanbul in search of a barber. Didn’t have to look too hard as there are heaps here. Found a bloke mopping his floor and thought, “You’ll do!”

He waves me over to a chair and proceeds to choke me with some sort of elasticated, Velcro dunny paper. Fu(k me, it’s Sweeney Todd, I’m done for! Fortunately, the nasty looking razor stayed in its stand and an immaculately clean cape gets wrapped around the dunny paper that was then carefully folded over the cape. Out come the clippers and some words that to me sounded like, chilli sauce large Döner, whilst waving three fingers. My arms were securely pinned inside the cape and waving four fingers back was not an option, so I just nodded.

That will be a No.3 on top then, and a number fu(k all elsewhere. Looks like the first day of basic training again. Oh well, it will grow back. Off comes the cape and out come the clippers again to give the sticky out of T-shirt area a bit of a mow. I thought that a small sheep noise at this moment would be witty and amusing. Baaaaa! Almost instant regret as the shearing is finished and Sweeney Todd squirts some sort of aftershave onto a giant cotton wool bud and sets fire to it. He gives it a bit of a shake, I assumed to put it out but the bugger is still burning!! The next bit is like watching the Rural Fire Service doing some back burning. Except, this version includes ear hair as the unwanted undergrowth and a small bonfire roars to life in my right ear! The first fire hazard is extinguished as the beginnings of another bushfire are ignited in the left ear. I spotted a fire extinguisher in the mirror and was about to make a dash for it before the warning level returned to ‘watch and act’.

Next comes out this little round, buzzing thingy to clear out any bits that the inferno failed to consume. Thank fu(k neither got near my nose!

Cape off, Lira handed over and I’m off to the chemist for blister treatment followed by a stress relieving Efes or two!

Sweeney Todd is going to have to mop the floor again!!!

So, the 12 day, Virgin Voyages, belt test and liver challenge comes to an end. Will we be back? In a heartbeat! But enough is enough for now.
Our new home here is right near the Old Town in Barcelona. Spent an awesome few days quality testing some local produce whilst wandering around this awesome City. America’s Cup was on outside the marina so pottered down there to watch the POMS try to end 173 years of America’s Cup hurt as they take on ‘the All Blacks on water’. Currently looking like that number will soon be 174 and climbing, a bit like soccer in some ways!

Had an epic flight/lounge combo to Istanbul before heading to the cab rank and a ride into town. Things went rapidly South as our driver pulls into a servo for a piss stop, leaving the meter running obviously. Eventually he reappears with a half scoffed pastry, a coffee and a couple of waters for his newly discovered best friends in the back. Caffeine levels restored, the Speedo shoots past 130, (In a 90 zone!), as he happily rings his chums and texts his latest Tinder potentials. Missing a turn-off before standing on the brakes and reversing back up the freeway was possibly his pièce de résistance as he hurled abuse at a rather startled motor cyclist nipping down the usually empty hard shoulder. The 9% credit card fee did little to calm the situation on arrival.

The roller coaster ride relieved us of a couple of thousand lira, but our new digs are epic. Holed up in Kadikoy on the Asian side of the City where the tourists are less and the general pace of things are a little more gentle.

Nipped out for a quiet libation or two whilst testing out the surprisingly tasty, free, vegan nibbles on the bar. Not a doner kebab in sight. Early to bed before the next day’s kebab hunt.

5 mins walk to the ferry, then about 20 mins pressing buttons on the ticket machine trying to extract a travel card or Istanbul Kart. All starts well in English before you stab the Istanbul Kart option and the machine reverts to Turkish. Turns out we needed to hand over a small stash of Lira and grab a card from the paper/ciggie shop outside. Then return to the machine and ask it to transfer a few more Lira to the card. Tapping the shiny new card on the turnstile turns the green tick into an angry red X. Tried this on a few of them before realising that meant, ‘please head on through’. Since when did a big red X mean ‘Go’? Didn’t get a thank you from the likely recipients of a free ferry ride either, will be stopping at the Lira eating machine on the other side of the Bosporus River for a top up.Ferry ride is great and Istanbul’s famous landmarks gently get closer.

Safely back on dry land and a couple of hundred Lira, (About AU$8), fed added to the card so we head off to the Grand Bazaar in search of nibbles. Not keen on repeating the taxi experience, so shank’s pony is our means of transport. Half an hour or so later and in we go. Holy crap! Miles and miles of twisty passages lined with all manner of highly honest looking humans purveying an unholy selection of floor coverings, jewellery, knock off bags, leather goods and a nasty looking selection of sugar based food. The ‘No thank you, we have our flights home’ line was wearing a bit thin with the carpet flogging chaps and the absence of our trusty SassArt friend meant we gave the very unlikely gold and silver a wide berth. Still not a kebab in sight!

Ventured back outside straight into a virtual spiders web of kebab stalls. Thought that nearly 20 bucks was a bit stiff for a few bits of chicken slapped into a pitta bread, but not nearly as miffed as some unfortunate soul being scammed of about 70 bucks for 2 of them with a handful of chips and tiny cans of sugary water. Took advantage of the ensuing melee by dropping somewhat less than they wanted into the bill thingy and disappearing back into the bazaar in search of the nearest flying carpet! Tally ho!

Our virtual carpet safely transports us from the clutches of the kebab scammers to Basilica Cistern. At a glance, this sounds like some sort of herb scented dunny. It is a tad bigger than that, James Bond rowed his way through it in From Russia with Love. This oversized dunny filling structure was built in 532 for slurping water rather than removing kebab detritus. Today there are only a few inches of coin filled fluids below a walkway through the columns of this underground storage structure. 1500 years later, we can’t whack up an apartment block that lasts more than a few years before it starts leaking. Seriously impressive and well worth the 40 buck entry fee. No kebabs down here either!

Back to the ferry, no free rides for other people this time. No sign of the kebab scammers over here, so let’s get cracking. Jax almost instantaneously procures a grilled mackerel number, I stuck with the more traditional version. Total for both kebabs, a couple of beers each and a bag of olives for the short walk home about the same as our previous dine and dash experience.
Spotted some unusual items on the way home. Could be handy if the chilli sauce intake continues to climb! Will see what tomorrow brings…

As expected, we skipped the pickleball and gave other forms of boat based exercise a wide berth. Opted for a quick scamper up 4 flights of stairs for brekky. Swift bacon sanga and coffee, then back down the 4 flights of stairs to collect passports and camelback in case there is a lack of fluids on the island. Bollocks! Empty! Back up to the galley on level 15 to fill the bugger up with ice and chilled water before the dizzying decent to level 4 and dry land. Old town first. Took a gentle hike up to the top of this ancient fortress and a mooch around a few shops. Eventually popped out of an impressive looking portcullis and drawbridge combination at the bottom. Someone should let the powers-that-be here know that there is an unguarded path round the back!Headed off to an information booth to discuss my findings, grab a map and ask the helpful chap where the best bars were. He happily scribbled on our new map before Jax asks about ‘noisy’ bars. Disturbingly, the pen shifts well away from the old town to Platja den Bossa, a good half hour or so away by bus. Need to be safely back on board by 5.30, so hopped into a cab and asked the cabbie to put his foot down. Carlos Sainz’s older brother willingly obliged and took the checkered flag in record time.We wandered into a rather posh beach club full of Aperol Spritz slurpers, sun bakers and large bellied sorts. The only tunes here were whinging children begging for chips, burgers and fizzy beverages. Might give this one a pass and take a wander down the beach. The sounds of doof doof soon get clearer as we take refuge in the Hard Rock Beach Bar. A couple of thirst quenchers later we can see our boat in the distance so decide on a bit of a pub crawl.After a few fluid/food stops, we somehow got back to the boat inside the curfew before joining our newest Aussie chums for karaoke. A couple of hours and wines later, there is a little knock on the door and a staff member politely inviting us to fu(k off. OK, dinner it is then. The two of us had a booking at the posh Italian joint, so we thought we’d try our luck getting all four of us in. The smartly dressed maître d didn’t seem very happy to see us, but quietly shuffled us off into a corner somewhere before we sent him packing with the latest wine order. Not sure what we had for dinner but we woke up with $37 left on our pre paid bar tab. Probably not a bad thing.Last trek up the stairs for brekky, then a sad farewell to this awesome vessel and hello Barcelona……

OK, I am officially a cruise addict. A couple of caveats here..

1. Adults only

2. 5 star restaurants 

3. See item 1

This thing is bonkers! Will probably be planning trips around Virgin Voyages for a while. Personally, couldn’t care less about Casablanca. Humphrey Bogart & Co are welcome to it! There was also Morocco’s latest cruiseliner in port, didn’t fancy that either. Málaga today, on the other hand is awesome. 

Gently extracted ourselves from our rather posh cabin for smoked salmon and a couple of poached eggs, then an hour or so of pickleball before venturing into town. Spent some time wafting around this awesome City before smashing out a truly Herculean paella, a delicious plate of boquerones en vinagre and a few local beverages. Missing the last bus back to the dock and having to run with the aforementioned paella sloshing about was never an option, so back with an hour or so to spare. Ibiza tomorrow could be a tad riskier. Might give the Brekky/pickleball combo a swerve and get stuck in nice and early. Daytime trance, let’s go! 

May try to behave ourselves tonight but not setting unrealistic goals! The tunes are already pumping around the pool, oh and the bar is open, bloody oath!!

Some of last night’s behaviour will remain unpublished and forever engrained in the memories of those silly enough to stay up late.

Innocent start to the day with bagels and smoked salmon. Smashed out an hour or so of pickleball then a waft around Lisbon and a cheeky beer or two. Scarlet Night 2nite could be a late one so focusing on pace and distance. Oh dear! Karaoke started the proceedings after a few late afternoon bubbles then back to the cabin and get geared up.

It was always the idea to misbehave and get into the pool fully dressed, some poor bugger’s hairpiece got involved before we were invited to vacate the premises.

Downstairs for dry clothing and off to the night club!

Only 1 more week of this to endure

Eating and drinking is always fun. This mob, (Virgin Voyages!), have elevated the experience to ‘next level’. All day brekky, burgers and other tasty morsels are available. Lifts covering all 16 levels cater for vertical transport afterwards. Bento boxes, noodle and poke bowls, salad and leafy stuff for those who probably use the stairs rather than lifts. Somewhere in the middle are less common bits like brekky tacos with poached eggs or buffalo mozzarella and tomato toasties. Managed to smash both of those with a few bacon rashers, a sausage and a liberal dose of chilli sauce before rapidly tackling the stairs on-route to the dunny.

I have a somewhat perverse interest in reinventions of Sir Thomas Crapper’s Victorian invention. The dunny on a cruise liner is a bit different to the flush and brush variety at home. Also very different to the foot pump version on the average 30 footer! Pressing the innocent looking button on the wall activates a fairly violent vacuum, removing the aforementioned chilli sauce combo with a satisfying rush of air! A bit like an inverted shart! Holding onto loose clothing during this process is a good idea.

Time for a spot of relaxation in the balcony hammock before engaging in a few of this afternoon’s activities. The pickleball court was under about an inch of water yesterday and the court is allocated to noisy Americans with basketballs today. Other noisy Americans are also participating in something called dodge ball. Might give that a miss.

Salty Trivia, bevvies and bites sound more up our alley. Followed by a sail-in party to replace the washed out sail away version from Portsmouth. Booked into the rather swanky looking ‘Extra Virgin’ Italian for dinner. Might waft out into Lisbon for a nightcap or two afterwards. Gunna be a tough 12 days!