Monday – Half-term, Mid-Season Finale
Today was the last of my watercolour classes for a few days. As we approach Brazil, and the mouth of the Amazon, there was a definite end-of-term feel to the workshops, which today was all about painting skies.
The reason for the impending break is because, when we enter Brazilian waters tomorrow, a couple of immigration officials will be coming on board, and taking up residence in the craft room. They’ll stay on board as far as Manaus; during this period, no-one will have access to the craft room, so all my art gear has been removed and stored in a cubby hole in one of the offices. Not that I don’t trust them (although, I could just see them scratting around for a sheet of paper and happily helping themselves to my mountain of expensive watercolour paper). It’s all a matter of not upsetting the Brazilians in any shape or form.
It rained quite heavily again today, and the wind blew so hard that it whipped one of the large wooden parasols up, and out into the ocean. Fortunately, the wind and the rain stopped in time for the ‘Crossing of the Equator’ ceremony, a tradition whereby permission has to be sought from King Neptune to cross from the Northern to the Southern hemisphere in return for undertaking a collection of daft tasks (an excuse for the entertainments team to have a bit of fun and end up in the pool). It fell right in the middle of one of my classes, of course, and I was afraid that it would have a profound effect on attendance. Happily, though, it hardly affected the turn-out at all.
The clocks go back another hour again tonight, which will put us three hours behind the UK.
Finally; I made the front page on the Daily Blurb! Everyone gets a write-up and a photo at some point in the cruise… this time, it’s my turn. Not that it’s a big deal, but it does suddenly mean people coming up to me, who I haven’t spoken to before (and often not even seen around the ship), and saying that they’ve seen my write-up. A bloke in the Show Lounge stopped me tonight and said “Are you the art guy?” Yes, I told him… that would be me. “You’re from Richmond”, he said. I am, I acknowledged… “I once went to Richmond”, he went on. End of conversation… wasn’t the slightest bit interested in my profile – just wanted to tell me that he once passed through Richmond. Ahh… the price of fame…
