We’re experiencing the other side of the English gene pool. More specifically, the people on this cruise--the 2-day booze cruise to the city of Zeebrugge in Belgium (actually little more than a ferry terminal with a railhead. We left Southampton Friday at 5 in the afternoon (which is night here this time of year), spending Saturday in Zeebrugge, arriving back to Southampton at 8 in the morning on Sunday. At that time we will have the turnaround for the Caribbean, but that’s another story.
When you have a sale like this, allowing anyone with 500 pounds to sail on the once-mighty QE2, you’re throwing the doors open to folks the likes of whom are unable to normally make the usual trips. A lot of folks arrived drunk, the rest of whom soon caught up with these pioneers. To say that this situation has changed the feel of the ship would be a gross understatement. There are drunks everywhere, even in the corridors.
At the end of the night I had a seventy-something passenger come up to me and try to pick a fight over Dean Martin’s music. Jim interceded, or there’s no telling where this guy’s aggressive attitude might have ended up.
I guess the best way to explain the passengers is to think of Hyacinth from Keeping Up Appearances, the BBC show that ran on PBS a few years ago, where she has the bad fortune to have been born into a family of utter sods, who she tries valiantly to distance herself from or even to disown. That lot, the brother-in-law with the wife beater t-shirts and the father who can no longer speak but still wanders off to the town, the heavily made up and frequently divorced sister, these are the people making up our passengers for this cruise.
And the ship isn’t helping either, by not feeding the drunk passengers enough food at the buffet. We musicians get to do the buffet in its last 20 minutes, from 12:10 to 12:30. Usually there are 4 servers behind the buffet line, which makes for an efficient delivery system of a half-full room. Last night, 12:10, a full room, there were two servers and about half a load of food on the buffet line.
Trevor, whom I have reason to believe because he genuinely loves this ship, overheard some bloke say, in pure Cockney, “Here now, give us some fucking chicken here!” There were reports of passengers snatching serving spoons and in other ways taking command of the situation.
Now, this is the same Lido Buffet where we are prevented from going into the chow line before 12:10 am by the manager, who often will prevent us until later when the passenger count is perceived by him to be high. And where, you might ask, was the manager when this anarchy was breaking out in the buffet line? Nowhere to be seen, that’s where.
After the buffet closed, 8 minutes early, Stevie, Sian and I went down to the mess to have a cup of tea (yes, it’s come to this, but there are worse habits I suppose). Sian was obsessing about a change in the IPM schedule that put her on the list for the day, preventing her from going to town. There was also a unannounced schedule change in the rotation on tea time, where she plays the harp with the two piano players. Stevie and I just advised her to do what she wanted, obtaining forgiveness if needed rather than permission.
But the most interesting thing when we came out of the mess around 2 into the corridor of Deck 1. There was a passenger coming our way when we came out who had the most zombie-like expression, drunk to beat the band.
When we arrived at Zeebrugge at 8 am the captain announced that the trains had gone on strike, which kind of killed my plan to go to Brugge for the day. It turns out that Belgium hasn’t had a working government for 5 months because of tension between the Flemish and the Walloons, so the rail workers don’t have a clue who they’re dealing with. There were trains coming and going, but the feeling was that the passengers might be surprised where they might end up. All of the taxies were booked, busses were full, and I just decided to boot it and do a bit of shopping for things like detergent. Had a nice coffee with Jim in a cafe owned by a expat Brit from Manchester. Jim too is horrified that the passengers are so crude by comparison. Well, it’s just a couple days after all.
Tomorrow we’re in Southampton until 5, when we head for warm waters by way of the Azores.
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