It’s early in the morning on a grey drizzly day, and we have just arrived at Kagoshima.
The locals seem excited to see us, they were waving at us as we came into port, there is a brass band playing, and they have some sort of cuddly mascot to welcome us.
Simon has booked us on a tour today, we have to meet everyone in the Queen’s room at 9 am. We don’t know where that is but surely it shouldn’t be too hard to find?
Yesterday was a restful day for us. It was a sea day so we had nowhere to be. We explored the ship, napped, I read my book while Simon did work emails (I’ve declared an embargo on work emails while I’m on holiday), and I did a tiny bit of shopping. I figured out on the first day that I hadn’t properly thought through my requirements for a bag for our little day trips. I brought a small handbag but I realised I’d need something that could fit an umbrella, a light raincoat, a cardigan, and a water bottle as well as the usual things – phone, etc. So, that’s what I looked for yesterday. I found something that seemed perfect for the job and not outrageously expensive. It helped that the same shop was selling Louis Vuitton bags for many thousands of dollars so my three hundred dollar leather bag seemed a steal. Right up to when I remembered the prices were all in American dollars. Oh well.
In the afternoon I went to a guided meditation session, to try and make up for the fact I haven’t been to yoga for a while. Only five people turned up. The young Irish lass told us to chant “Om Va Haminum”, meaning ‘I trust everything happens at the right time’, and then left us to meditate silently for 15 minutes. It might have been ok if the chairs were more comfortable. My meditation skills are not sufficient to counteract a sore back. When she rang the little bell I could hardly say ‘namaste’ fast enough before escaping.
It was a gala night and the other guests took it very seriously. Someone warned me a few weeks ago that Cunard were quite strict with the formal wear, and so it was. I saw a few people hiding in the pub wearing casual clothes but the vast majority looked absolutely fabulous. The real deal – tuxedoes and ball gowns. They then queued up in long lines to get their photos taken, before drifting off to have a meal, see a show, or float around on the dance floor. There were some extremely accomplished ballroom dancers that were a pleasure to watch.
I had a cocktail dress that at least showed willing but poor Simon was completely outclassed. He’d brought a tie and jacket, and tried to pretend his trousers were part of a suit but he wasn’t fooling anyone. We had a debate about who has it tougher when it comes to formal wear, between men and women. I think it’s easier for women because you can get a dress to look the part even quite cheaply, whereas a formal suit is hard to fake. Anyway, that is a lesson for anyone travelling on a Cunard ship – take the dress code seriously. And enjoy.