When I said in a previous post that I would have my recordings of the Captain’s daily briefings posted by Sunday or Monday, Lis laughed and laughed at me – “There’s no way you’re going to have it done that soon.” And, so, she was right – here it is Wednesday afternoon, and I’m just now getting them posted. Ah, well – at least they’re here. And, for the cruise junkies (and the cruise curious) among you, I’ve included a link to pics I took of the various menus and programs we got throughout the cruise.

Thursday briefing – video is of the TV channel that broadcasts from the ship’s bridge.

Friday briefing – video is from deck 2 (maybe deck 3), where you are near the water line and get a good view of the swells. If you listen closely, you might hear me shushing people (I always get embarrassed when I shush – sometimes it just slips out before I can stop it!).

Saturday briefing – video is out our balcony window. The wind drowns out the Captain’s audio a little, but you can still hear his chipper voice droning on 🙂

Cruise documents – Daily Programmes, menus, movie listings, etc.

It’s our last day at sea, and a lovely one. For the first time, they’ve put the cushions out on the deck chairs on the promenade deck – the weather’s been too rough up until now. But today the seas and the wind are gentle, and the sky is (mostly) blue, and I can be out on deck without my scarf tied round my head to protect my ears. So I am sitting out in one of said deck chairs, watching the morning go by.

This is our second Cunard sailing. Our first, as some of our loyal readers might remember, was a 10 night Caribbean cruise in 2008. Our opinion of Cunard after that sailing was decidedly mixed, so I was curious what we would think after this one. However, this time my experience of Cunard was almost completely positive – even though I’d say they are no better at what they do, and in some areas might even be worse. So what’s the difference? The fact that this was a crossing, not a cruise with ports of call.

There are two ways that the crossing immeasurably improved the experience. The first is that, in our experience, what Cunard is worst at, by far, is getting people on and off the ship. So, on a crossing, they only had to do that once (and, as you might recall, do it badly). It remains to be seen how debarkation goes; I don’t have high hopes for it. But once on the ship, all has been lovely. On the last cruise, we were constantly hating people and their rude, awful behavior. Looking back, though, I can see that almost all of that was centered around getting on and off the ship; lining up for shore excursions, everyone coming back from excursions and heading to meals at the same time, etc. With port calls off the table, we all developed our own routines, and got in each others’ way very little. There was still the occasional rude encounter, but they were rare, rather than the rule. In fact, I didn’t hate anyone until last night, which is pretty impressive for me to not hate anybody until the penultimate night of a 7 night sailing!

While we’re on the topic of my anti-social behavior, may I take the opportunity to say that I’ve spoken maybe three words to anybody who isn’t Lis, and it’s been awesome! So much opportunity to just find your own space and hole up in your own head on a crossing. Which, I guess, leads me to the second way that a crossing improves the experience – day after day on a ship in the middle of the ocean is just so zen. On a regular cruise, most days there is a port call, and so a schedule of when to be off and when to get back on, and decisions to make about what to do and what to see. But on a crossing, there’s just the ocean, every day. The ship does provide daily activites, but not a lot, and I don’t do them, anyway (other than blackjack and cream tea, of course).

And so each day it’s just the ocean, which seems like it could be monotonous but is so changeable according to the weather and time of day and quality of light – I keep snapping photos, because each sea scape seems so different and amazing to me. The photos, of course, never really capture it, but I keep trying.

This is another benefit of being on the Queen Mary 2; she is a proper ocean liner, as opposed to a normal cruise ship. It means that she’s built for open waters – specifically, the open waters of the North Atlantic. Crossings in regular cruise ships normally happen farther south – Barcelona to Miami is a typical itinerary – because the weather is better. But, because we’re in a proper liner, we can take the more northerly route, and experience the rougher North Atlantic without being terrified or seasick. We had two storms on our crossing; the first one the second day out of Southhampton, the second one yesterday, and both were exciting to watch. We’d go down to the big windows on deck 2 and make little movies of the swells and spray – so fun, but never scary, as we knew QM2 was built for this.

And speaking of the storms – one thing I learned from my boyfriend’s daily briefing yesterday was the concept of “fetch”, which is the distance that you are from land. The greater (or longer?) the fetch, the higher the swells. This is because the farther you are from land, the more time the wind has to bunch up the water, and so the swells get bigger the longer (or higher?) the fetch. So, in our first storm, the winds were at an 8 (gale force) and the swells were very rough (8-9 meters), because we were 3000 miles from land. In our second storm, conversely, the winds were a stronger 9 (severe gale), but the swells were only rough (I don’t know how tall because my boyfriend never told us) – this, because of the lower (shorter?) fetch, as we were only 500 some miles from land. This is the kind of nerd fest that you can totally give yourself over to on a crossing.

So, anyway, even though I think Cunard has inconsistent food, and sometimes indifferent service, and an awful embarkation procedure, I would wholeheartedly recommend a crossing to anyone, as it is a total zen experience, you can feel like a real sailor, and the QM2 is a truly beautiful ship.

Yesterday we got up early, ate, packed, said goodbye to Waggers, and were ready in plenty of time for the car would take us to the cruise terminal in Southhampton. The drive was uneventful, and the driver pleasant. As an aside, we really like the car service we’ve been using in England, Blackberry, and only wish we’d used it to get from Gatwick to the hotel, instead of the just as expensive and not nearly as comfortable train and taxi combo we used.

Once we got close to the docks, we ended up in a couple traffic jams. Each time, we thought it was because all three Cunard ships (Queen Mary 2, Queen Elizabeth, and Queen Victoria) were in port, and leaving at the same time, plus there might be a few people come down to watch them. But our driver said no, and he was right – the first traffic jam was because of some construction, and the second was backed up traffic from a nearby shopping mall.

We were dropped off at Ocean Terminal, where the real traffic jam began. This is our second sailing on the Queen Mary 2, and our second embarkation nightmare. Though this one, really, wasn’t that bad – it just took forever. Last time, we actually had to stand in line (or sit, as eventually they distributed fold up chairs) for two hours in an un-airconditioned warehouse-like structure in Florida heat. This time, they gave us boarding letters (ours was ‘V’, and they were boarding ‘E’ when we arrived) and then we found comfortable seats in the pleasant, air conditioned terminal. We also had access to bathrooms and overpriced food. So, much better than last time, but still took over 2 hours to get through the boarding process.

All three ships were supposed to sail away together, but ours (QM2) was running way behind – in addition to general boarding pokiness, the ramp to the ship actually came detached at one point, further delaying the boarding process as they hooked it back up again. So the other two Queens, who apparently had completed their boarding in a timely manner, had to just sit around and wait for us.

We did finally get on the ship, and to our room. Lis read in Daily Programme there that the Band of the Welsh Guards would serenade our departure from the quayside. We thought that sounded cool, but looking at the timing of everything described in the program, it looked like we would be in our required passenger muster drill at that time, and miss it. All the timing of our grand departure seemed off, and I was worried, because I had been SO looking forward to it. Lis commented that we had switched roles, with me fretting about how it would all come off, and Lis occupying the “don’t worry, it will all work out” space.

We went to the buffet for some late lunch, then back to our room to wait for the muster drill, which had been pushed back from 4pm to 4:30pm to 4:45pm. Lis went out on our balcony (thanks, Sandra!!) to take some pictures, then hollered for me to come quick – the Welsh Guards were performing just below us. They were fun, and sounded good (not all marching bands do) – we watched them until it was time for our muster drill, which took place an hour late at 5pm.

Then it was time for our sail away, and it was the best. I love cruising because I love to be on a ship at sea, and my favorite part of any voyage is sailing in to and out of port. I especially love it if any other ships are arriving or departing at the same time, or any other local ships or people are around, as we all wave to each other. So this departure, with two other ships, and countless local ships, and people along the shore, and waving to everybody, and the ships sounding their horns back and forth, and music and British flags and a sense of occasion, was just awesome! We sailed along the English Channel, accompanied by our sister ships, for about two hours.

The QM2 started out in the lead, followed by the Queen Elizabeth and then the Queen Victoria, in single file. Eventually, the channel widened, and the ships fanned out so that they were kind of abreast, but not side by side. We travelled this way past a jetty full of people snapping pictures and cheering – I waved my little British flag and felt like a celebrity. Then, we slowed down, and the two ships came abreast of us (but at a fair distance, as the channel was quite wide now) and then passed us, and we followed them out to sea. The sun came out and illuminated the Queen Elizabeth, now in the lead, and eventually she and Queen Victoria went one way, and we went another, out in to the open Atlantic and toward home.

We have been much more active sight see-ers this vacation than we usually are; I think it’s because we knew we have all those days at sea coming up in which to recover. By the end of yesterday, though, I was feeling pretty worn out. Plus, we’ve got all our Cunard 175th Anniversary revelry on Sunday – I was thinking maybe I’d just lie low today. Then we turned on the news and saw that Kate Middleton had just had her baby. Well, we thought, we can’t be in London at the time of a Royal birth and just hang out in the hotel. We’re only three tube stops from Buckingham Palace, so off we went.

First, though, we made a little stop at the Vauxhall City Farm, which Lis had been wanting to see. Unfortunately for her, those kind of places can depress me if the animals seem cramped, as these did, so I didn’t want to stay very long. I told her to take as long as she wanted, and I’d wait outside. But, it’s not as much fun for her, knowing I’m hanging around waiting – poor sweetie.

Then, off to the tube – we are becoming practiced subway riders now. We got off at the Buckingham Palace stop (Green Park), and stopped to get some lunch before joining the hordes. It took us some time to find a place we both liked, and Lis was getting a bit grumpy. We finally settled on Caffe Concerto, which seems to be a chain here, as there were several of them. The food was good, but the service was pretty horrible. We seemed to have deeply offended the girl waiting on us (probably by being cheapo cheapskates, sharing a sandwich and ordering no drinks or appetizers), and at a certain point in the meal she simply washed her hands of us – she kept walking past our table, but never spoke to us again, and we had to flag down the manager to get and pay our check.

After lunch we joined the throngs headed to Buckingham Palace. It looked kind of daunting, but it really wasn’t – there were lots of people, but it wasn’t ever completely jam packed. Just enough to be fun. Once we got to the palace gates, we saw a long queue, and wondered what it was for. We followed it to its source, and found that it was people lining up to take pictures of the Royal Proclamation of the birth – which was a framed piece of letterhead stationery with a couple typewritten lines and some signatures (of whom, I know not).

What was funny is that there were a bunch of security people there keeping the rest of us separate from the queue and the proclamation – protecting the sacrifice of the queuers, I guess. I took a little movie of the whole thing, figuring a picture of people taking pictures of the Royal Proclamation was good enough. But Lis said “Let’s get in line.” Normally I go to great lengths to avoid lines, but, what the heck – we didn’t have anywhere to be, and how likely am I ever to be in London for a royal birth again – we queued up. Actually, it was kind of great to be in line, because we got to stand right up against the fence with unobstructed views of the palace, which was kind of cool.

When we got to the front of the line, the guy there was hurrying us along like crazy – “Hurry up, hurry up, take your photos, move it along, get the next five up here, make room, snap your photo and move along, let’s go…” – and the easel holding the proclamation was too far away for my (relatively crappy) phone camera, so mostly what I ended up with is a picture of an easel. But, whatever – here it is…

After our photo op, we wandered around for a while, but it got suddenly quite chilly, and we were still pretty tired, so we decided to head off in search of Cream Tea (tea, scones, clotted cream, and jam). What could be easier than finding tea in the environs of Buckingham Palace, right? Wrong. The Grosvenor Hotel was nearby (lovely hotel, by the way – very grand lobby) and they had High Tea (all of the above, plus sandwiches and cakes and assorted other goodies), but we didn’t want that much (or to pay that much – yikes!). We could go to the tea room near our hotel, but, as we learned yesterday, that would take a year. So we searched and searched. Eventually, I was over it and wanted to give up and go either to our tea room or just back to the hotel, but my girl is persistent. She had a bead on a place, and dragged me grousing and whining through the streets of London to Baker & Spice, on Elizabeth Street near Victoria Station.

Sadly, they didn’t have a proper cream tea (no clotted cream! The very idea <harrumph>!!), but their scones were good and their jam homemade, and the sit down was desperately needed by yours truly. Tea revived me enough for the walk back to Victoria Station and the tube ride home, but in the station Lis, who’d been wanting to pick up a couple things for tomorrow’s trip, wanted to stop at a Marks & Spencer’s. I completely balked at this – I had just exactly enough energy to get back to the hotel and not one drop more. I said I’d just head back on my own, but Lis balked at that – she didn’t want us to be separated (even though, as I’ve mentioned, we are total tube pros now). Luckily, she spied an empty seat on a bench, and we parked me on it so she could do her shopping.

We got back to our room just in time to watch the BBC coverage of Kate, William, and the new princess going home, which we watched while we ate the food we’d brought back from Baker & Spice for dinner. It was so hilarious to me – all the speculation of when they’d appear, and would they talk to the press, and would they be driven or would William drive, like he did last time, etc, etc, etc. And all the while, the crawl said things like “Breaking News: The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge to appear shortly” and “Breaking News: The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge have appeared” and “Breaking News: The Duke and Duchess of Cambridge on their way to Kensington Palace” – this last accompanied by an aerial shot of their car (driven by William, as it turned out) driving to the palace, with occasional cut aways to instant replays of when they came out and got in said car. So adorable.

And then tomorrow our Cunard gala festivities – who knew things would get so exciting! 🙂

We are now on our second day in London. I’m hoping that Lis will cover getting here and our first day, and I’d like to skip ahead to some thoughts I had about our visit to the National Portrait Gallery. But first, I can’t help but include a word or two about our British Airways flight from Genoa, or, more specifically, boarding our British Airways flight from Genoa.

They called us to board in groups, by row number – we were in row 14. First, they called business class passengers to board, then they called rows 20 through 26. Since we weren’t in either of these groups, I didn’t pay much attention to the process – I was just dimly aware of movement. Then they called rows 7 through 19, so we gathered our stuff and went to board.

The first thing we noticed is that there was no proper queue – one line straggled in from this side, one from that side, all very haphazard, with the girls at the counter looking flustered and confused. After we got to the front of our “line” (actually a scrum of several people, with the girls choosing whom to serve next apparently at random) and they scanned our tickets, we turned to go down the walkway and board the plane, and almost instantly ran in to a huge queue of everyone who had gone before us – they hadn’t actually opened the doors to the walkway yet. So everyone was just standing there, and the queue was backing up in to the gate area. You’ll notice that the effect of this is that the business class people got to stand in line the longest.

After they got us all jammed together in this giant queue, they finally opened the door to the walkway, and we shuffled forward, still packed pretty tightly, but at least moving in the direction of the plane. THEN they called the people needing wheelchair assist, and threaded them through us to get them to the head of the queue – think ambulance working its way through a traffic jam. Wackiest boarding process I’ve ever seen. Crazy Italians (or crazy Brits…?).

Anyway, yesterday we went to the National Portrait Gallery, which I was excited about – I’d highlighted it as something I wanted to do when I was thumbing through a guide book before the trip. Lis wasn’t sure she was interested, but then when we made plans to meet our friends Ron and Trish, they suggested we meet at the National Gallery, and then after lunch suggested we go to the Portrait Gallery. So, yay for me!

Note from Lis: A few details wrong there. I WAS interested in the National Portrait Gallery and I was the one who suggested we go there after lunch. (Gots to get me my credit where it is due.)

We went first to the Tudor room, which I was interested in because I’ve recently read Wolf Hall and Bring Up the Bodies, and listened to several podcasts about the Tudors on The History Chicks, and we’re watching Wolf Hall right now on PBS. I was struck by how much the portrait of Thomas Cromwell looks like Tony Soprano, and by how not beautiful Anne Boleyn was – I thought the woman who captivated Henry VIII for years, to the point of overthrowing the Catholic Church, would be more stunning. I guess that just means her talents and wiles in other areas were even more impressive than I’d thought.

Later, we were in the 20th century room, and I came across a portrait of Princess Diana. I’d been seeing “No photography” signs all about, and was being respectful, but I’ve always had a soft spot for Diana, and so couldn’t resist – I pulled out my phone and took a surreptitious, blurry snap of the portrait (if you look closely, you can see my reflection in the glass, and my stealth, keep-the-phone-low pose). Then I turned around and noticed, right across from Diana, this amazing portrait of Queen Elizabeth in an intimidating, regal posture and a spectacular royal red cloak – surreptitious snap here, too. Later, I learned that the “no photos” rules only apply to specified portraits – ones with copyright issues – and so I probably could have taken legit, and thus better, photos. Oh well – I kind of liked feeling transgressive…

The juxtaposition of these portraits, with the queen tall and stately, towering over and looking down on a soft-focus, vulnerable Diana – it was really something. I wonder if they staged it that way on purpose.

There were many, many great paintings in the portrait gallery – so fun to see portraits of all these historical figures that I’ve read and heard so much about. My other two favorites were this great one of Margaret Thatcher that looked a lot like an old Soviet-era propaganda poster (ah, irony), and a sweet tableau of George VI, Queen Elizabeth (Queen Mum), Princess Elizabeth (now Queen Elizabeth II) and Princess Margaret at home.