World Wide Adventures: 16.1. 2012 A Life on the Ocean Wave (Madeira)

We woke again in beautiful Madeira, our cruise circle complete. The sun was warm on our backs as we strolled along the waterfront beneath the curving palm branches, and settled on little white chairs constructed of twirling wrought iron, to sup our last milk shakes of the holiday. Soon our bus would sweep us back to the world of endless airport queues, security checks - unpack computer, take off belt, strip off jumper, walk here, stop there, don’t forget your boarding card, watch the overhead screens for details of gates etc. etc. etc. But for now a chance to absorb the cheerful tourist chatter, watch the little boats in the bay.

Cruising is something you could get used to. Amazing how quick you develop a routine – get up, peer out of the porthole – a new dock, a new landscape each morning. Then the big decisions of the day begin, ie which venue to have our breakfast – the Seven Seas Restaurant, crisp white clothes, cheerful waiters, or the Lido Cafe – round white tables with green and blue chairs, buffet service, views over the polished stern deck area. And what to have? Juicy fresh pineapple, melons red and white, grapes, raisins, walnuts, cheeses, all manner of fries, toast, jam, muffins and more besides. When breakfast stops, lunch starts – Chinese noodles, vegetable korma, shepherd’s pie, golden roast potatoes, turmeric rice, soft twisting pasta. When lunch stops, afternoon tea begins – scones, cakes, biscuits that taste like shortbread, and bowls filled with mounds of jam, others brimming with cream. And afternoon tea runs straight into dinner, dinner into supper.

Out on deck, we can find a sheltered nook and get out the books and crochet, or, Bill’s favourite, the onboard crossword, new each day. Or sleep in the sun. It’s also possible to play board games, compete in quizzes, watch films, play table tennis or deck quoits, listen to singers, have a massage, take dance lessons, and so on and so on – you get the idea.

And yet a man declared he had nothing to do, and another that there was nothing to eat. Some people just refuse to be satisfied with anything.

Vegetable bouquet

One afternoon on the pool deck, there was a demonstration of fruit and vegetable carving. Three chefs sporting their tall stiff hats and armed with knives which they whipped and twirled in their fingers, took melons, small tomatoes, oranges, onions, carrots, and sculpted a huge bouquet of flowers, a little girl’s face, trees full of small fat birds. Another sunkissed afternoon, a huge block of ice, like misty glass, was chopped, filed and planed until a horse’s head, mane flying behind it, appeared from within.

Evening dinner was either formal – five courses in the Seven Seas Restaurant, waiter service, shining glasses on white clothes, and followed by singing waiters full of fun, or else informal – little candles on checked clothes in the Lido Cafe. And then the rush to make sure of seats in the theatre at the bow, glittering song and dance routines, singing to rival the best you could get onshore. Normally, we avoid holiday entertainment like the plague, but this was different. Youthful energy and enthusiasm coupled with skill and professionalism. It was all colour, brilliance, movement and music.

And the most regular activity of all – wandering the polished wooden decks, watching the crew deploy the ropes as we docked, and loose them when we left, coiling them into tidily huge cushions, ready for the next port. Watching over the rail as the foam glowed white in the moonlight, expanding along the ship’s sides, as like a plough cutting soft earth, she cut the ocean before her, wrapping it over on itself in soft folds.