Day 18: photographic evidence

All these holiday snapshots are doing my head in. I don’t recognize the middle-aged woman in them. Who the hell is she? She can’t possibly be me. Because if it’s me … Fark! I am so old. I am dark-circled, hollow-eyed. I am lined. I am past it. I don’t want to be this person. […]

Day 17: Nutbush City Limits

Oh what a night! Busting moves at the Starquest Nightclub with The Threesome girls. You Spin Me Round Like A Record. Blue Monday. A revolving bar. (At first I thought I’d had too much champagne, but no, the bar really goes round and round.) Bulk as fun. Sister shouted in my ear, wondering what we […]

Day 16: having a bellyfull

I’m writing this poolside during the Men’s Bellyflop Championship. Some damn fine bellies on display. I will upload an action shot when I get home. You’ll just have to use your imagination for now. Eight hefty male passengers take turns climbing onto a podium and flinging themselves at 180 degree angles into the water, landing […]

Day 15: slimy pollywogs

We crossed the Equator yesterday. There was a big ceremony. King Neptune attended. Passengers were voluntarily humiliated at his feet  – commanded to get down on their knees and have spaghetti and tomato sauce thrown over them. Apparently it’s a traditional sailor-type activity, I’m assuming far more inappropriate hazing usually happens at sea. But this […]

Day 14: cocksuckers

While it wasn’t love at first sight for me and Bora Bora – geez, I know, hard to please – I felt quite distressed to be leaving when the ship pulled out through the hole in the reef (helpfully dynamited open by the Americans during World War 2). No land again for five whole days. […]

Day 12: in a flap

I was hugged by a stingray yesterday. I swore I wouldn’t do it. Just the idea of some big flappy thing – supposedly de-barbed – sweeping around made me shudder. (Even without a certain Irwin fellow’s demise.) The reality of the stingray encounter was even freakier than I imagined, with lots of little sharks and […]

Day 11: cheaper than an old people’s home

Don’t get a fat analysis while on holiday. Too bloody depressing. I got one and am now the proud owner of a supermarket-like docket telling me I have 10% excess body fat, need to lose 8.8kg and have 3.9kg of “toxic water” sloshing around in my body, which must be removed with expensive seaweed tablets […]

Day 10: sexiest man in the world

Most people get browner as their holiday progresses. I’m getting paler. I started out a lovely continental colour, but I’m returning to a shade that Stuart Keats, a boy I quite fancied in high school, once described as a “sock tan”. My fake glow is inelegantly fading as we approach warmer climes. I have two […]

Day 9: chewing the fat

So much for restraint. I’m still troughing at the buffet every day. Scary. Well, not as scary as some of the other plates I see, piled high with pizza and hamburger and fries, wobbling past (the seas are kinda rough at the moment). You know, I don’t mean to be judgmental (kind of like when […]