Oy Vey!
You know what? Apart from needing to avoid windows at sea level, I actually enjoy cruises.
There are lots of cruises and cruise companies. I am sure there are cruises focused on the blue rinse brigade, probably out of Florida. I wonder if they have a “Burial at Sea” option for those guys. I guess they must be a few that die onboard. I saw an old guy the other night in the nightclub. He is what I imagine Biggles will look like in about 30 years. You know the sort. White hair and moustache, immaculately groomed. I tell you what, he was dancing to the swing and jazz music in a way that I certainly couldn’t do now. Seriously impressive old geezer. He’s either going to live till he’s 125, or he’s going to kick off next Thursday in his Miami nursing home while giving his nurse a naked massage.
So, what about the burial at sea thing? That could be part of the package with these retirement homes in Florida. A Caribbean cruise once a year until the final cruise to Davy Jones.
No, hang on a minute. I guess this won’t comply with the recycling programme. Never mind.
Anyway, there will be honeymoon cruises, but the walls will need to be thicker than on this ship.
There will be family cruises. I guess Disney has that market covered.
So. Think of a demographic and there will be a cruise targeted at it. There will also be a cruise line targeted at it as well.
There is one demographic that isn’t covered, and one company that will never have a successful cruise offering.
Jenny Craig. Seriously. You cannot lose weight on a cruise. You cannot even retain your weight going in. The main function of cruise guests is eating. Sure, they sprinkle the day with events and entertainments to fill in time between your meals. But most of them involve food.
The naturalist had a term for it, in relation to sea lions, but I can’t remember what it was. Basically, it is the process whereby the sea lions do nothing but eat and sleep. I had already made the connection between the sea lion and his audience, but he spelled it out anyway. A predominantly Amrikan audience, so small words, no irony, nothing complicated.
But it’s true!
George, the gibraltanese at out table, commented that cruise staff tend to treat guests like small children. This is the behaviour I am talking about. We have all regressed to childhood while onboard. The day is filled with eating, sleeping, and pooping, with the occasional shiny distraction thrown in for good measure.
So, if you want a holiday that fills you with a warm sense of wellbeing and comfort, then put on a wetsuit and pee into it. If that doesn’t appeal, then go on a cruise. Just don’t look out of the windows at sea level.
I almost forgot. Sarah and the whales. At breakfast, there were a group of people standing on the rear deck, pointing into our distant wake. Sarah went out to see a whale. Nothing. It had been there, they insist. Gone now.
At lunch, somebody noticed something in the far distance, forward and to starboard of us. As it got closer, there was another one, and then another one, appearing and disappearing under the waves. A crowd was forming, and we were right there. I could now see 5 black objects, and they would be coming past us. Sarah said that she will have to tell George that she has at last seen not only a whale, but a whole pod of them. I have started calling him Indiana George, because he does all of the adventurous stuff. Float planes, helicopters, and whale watching. All that stuff.
As these ‘whales’ came closer, the first was a boat, the next one a canoe, then more boats. Damn. Don’t tell Indiana George.
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