BRISTOL AVONMOUTH – EMBARKATION DAY
Today, we boarded the Marco Polo.
I have to say that it wasn’t the smoothest embarkation operation we’ve ever experienced. We were up in time to grab ourselves a Bacon Sandwich breakfast in Asda, which was but a short distance from the hotel, and was queuing to unload our luggage at the Cruise Terminal only minutes after the appointed embarkation start time.
The terminal was in chaos. As members of the entertainments team, Tracey and I are usually offered a fast-track through check-in and security; today, however, for whatever reason, we finished up joining the very long and winding queue along with all the other passengers, checking-in our passport details, being photographed for security, picking up our cruise cards and walking through the scanners, until finally we were on board. Mercifully, I didn’t have to dismantle my wheel-on plastic chest of drawers, which is full of art materials, as I once had to do at Tilbury; instead, one of the high-vis operatives took it away from me to be scanned through another luggage scanner in some other part of the building, and was returned to me as we approached the ship.
After that, everything began to run more smoothly… almost.
Security swiped us on board, and we headed for our cabin, which I’m pleased to say is one of the larger ones deep down in the bowels of the hull, on Deck 4. That’s the good news; the bad news is that the deadlights were already bolted shut, one presumes in readiness for rough seas (although the sea charts posted in the reception area didn’t appear to be warning of any such weather). The slightly annoying thing about deadlights (which are the heavy round metal shutters that cover the portholes) is that they always seem quick to close them, but never quite so quick to open them again. They can make the cabin feel shut-in and slightly claustrophobic. Despite this minor irritation, I’m pleased with our cabin, which feels quite spacious, has a desk and chair and tons of wardrobe space.
The obligatory emergency drill was held just after 4pm, after which I attended a tutors and lecturers meeting in the Conference Room, where we were all handed our individual schedules, telling us when our respective classes and lectures will be held. Surprisingly, all events will be taking place only in the Conference Room, so the space is having to be divvied-up into four; between two crafters, myself and a creative writing tutor. What this means is that I’ll be giving a class roughly every other sea day instead over every sea-day, which is what would normally happen. This is quite unusual for me and means I’ll be getting every other sea-day off. I won’t know what to do with myself…
At both performances of the evening show, lectureres and tutors were introduced on stage by the Cruise Director, Mitch, and handed the microphone to give a short 30-second speech on what we would be offering. Up until now, this is a practice that always seemed to happen only occasionally, and at the behest of the individual Cruise Director. Of late, however, it seems to have become the norm, and is probably something insisted on by head office. I don’t mind too much, although it meant having to make an appearance at both the 8 o’clock show and the 10 o’clock show, and it does have a tendency to increase the interest in classes (which isn’t necessarily a good thing, since the first class will almost certainly be chaotic and massively over-subscribed anyway).
We finished the evening off, along with several other like-minded passengers, drinking tea from the tea and coffee station in Marco’s Bistro, discussing life the universe and everything, before retiring at around midnight, very tired.
