You’ve no doubt heard that sailing on a liner is like sitting in your living room. Not true, but almost. One can feel ever-so-slightly on occasion the rise and fall of the ocean and the give-and-take of the QM2. It’s a bit tricky sometimes hitting the keys of this netbook or walking in a straight line. Nevertheless, the feeling of movement is nowhere near overwhelming, and we’ve had no need to “make our contribution to Neptune” over the railing or in the restroom. I thought it might be overly noisy, but was surprised to find that the noise level is similar, perhaps, to hearing the boiler down in one’s basement firing up, and only occasionally exceeds that.
Dinners are extremely elegant. A sport coat is a must, with tuxedo/suit/tie required most evenings. Gowns for the ladies. Dinner time, location, and table are assigned. We eat in the Britannia Room, near the stern, at a table of six. By coincidence, the two couples traveling together who are our dinner mates are all retired New York City-area educators, most of whom started in the classroom and eventually moved to administration and State Ed. They and the children they tell us about are very accomplished. One grown child is now an impresario/performer for a couple of rock bands and a creator of comic books, mostly in Europe and doing quite well. Another is the film editor for Adam Chandler, whom we are told is apparently a terrific person to know and work for.
The QM2 is, I’m hearing, the biggest liner afloat, exceeded, I imagine, only by a handful of aircraft carriers. She is a celebration of the past, in mostly art-deco style, and filled with paintings and pictures of Cunard liners and personnel of by-gone days, a floating monument to 170 years of passenger liner history. Cunard (pronounced cyu-nard, apparently with the syllables equally stressed) has spared no expense. Mountains and shore, while beautiful, cannot compare. Everyone should experience this at some time in their lives. My advice is: go for it! The evening was completed by dancing the evening away at the Ascot Ball.
The morning sun is now up and burning off the light fog. Joggers and power walkers are dotting the promenade deck, and early-risers are beginning to occupy other tables in King’s Court and this alcove. Perhaps it’s time to close. Wi-fi is virtually everywhere, and Internet service is obviously available on board the QM2, but the service is too slow and the plans will cost you approx 40 to 75 cents a minute. We try to use the Internet sparingly, and will probably wait to read most of our mail when we reach some coffee house in England. Deborah Harry and Blondie are now cranking out “Heart of Glass” across Lotus’s sound system, fortunately at a very subdued volume level. More immediate: my battery is almost expired. I must sign off, but I promise I will write you more when we reach the Mother Country! Happy Birthday Jennifer!!!!
Dinners are extremely elegant. A sport coat is a must, with tuxedo/suit/tie required most evenings. Gowns for the ladies. Dinner time, location, and table are assigned. We eat in the Britannia Room, near the stern, at a table of six. By coincidence, the two couples traveling together who are our dinner mates are all retired New York City-area educators, most of whom started in the classroom and eventually moved to administration and State Ed. They and the children they tell us about are very accomplished. One grown child is now an impresario/performer for a couple of rock bands and a creator of comic books, mostly in Europe and doing quite well. Another is the film editor for Adam Chandler, whom we are told is apparently a terrific person to know and work for.
The QM2 is, I’m hearing, the biggest liner afloat, exceeded, I imagine, only by a handful of aircraft carriers. She is a celebration of the past, in mostly art-deco style, and filled with paintings and pictures of Cunard liners and personnel of by-gone days, a floating monument to 170 years of passenger liner history. Cunard (pronounced cyu-nard, apparently with the syllables equally stressed) has spared no expense. Mountains and shore, while beautiful, cannot compare. Everyone should experience this at some time in their lives. My advice is: go for it! The evening was completed by dancing the evening away at the Ascot Ball.
The morning sun is now up and burning off the light fog. Joggers and power walkers are dotting the promenade deck, and early-risers are beginning to occupy other tables in King’s Court and this alcove. Perhaps it’s time to close. Wi-fi is virtually everywhere, and Internet service is obviously available on board the QM2, but the service is too slow and the plans will cost you approx 40 to 75 cents a minute. We try to use the Internet sparingly, and will probably wait to read most of our mail when we reach some coffee house in England. Deborah Harry and Blondie are now cranking out “Heart of Glass” across Lotus’s sound system, fortunately at a very subdued volume level. More immediate: my battery is almost expired. I must sign off, but I promise I will write you more when we reach the Mother Country! Happy Birthday Jennifer!!!!
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