So now the long sea days stretch before us.
Our first port of call will be Hilo and it appears that life on-board the good ship Lollypop has virtually returned to normal. There are few masks and very little coughing - anyone with an inclination to cough suppresses it vigorously rather than suffer accusing stares and recriminations in this post-covid environment.
Cunard, for its part, seems to lay on thick a sense of normalcy, especially poignant considering this world cruise is their celebration of the world’s first world cruise in 1923.
So it is with normalcy in mind that the dinners and parties have begun once again and tonight’s gala dinner promises to be a grand affair - for it is my dinner with “Mrs B”.
I had first clocked Mrs B (name changed to protect the innocent) in the embarkation line in San Francisco, a few days previously. She, a diminutive figure in a black designer dress, swathed in diamonds and Manolo Blahnik and with a full set of instructions to all those hovering around her.
I decided definitely destined for the first class suites. Her taut, tanned skin belying her not insignificant age. She told me later that her face had put many children through college. That much was obvious.
She sat regally in a wheelchair - because of course, why walk when you can be pushed while the officers and staff ran around attending to her every need - bringing her the documents - no standing (or sitting) at the reception counter for her and far be it to collect her own boarding key - that was handed to her by her onboard butler.
I did nothing more than a glance and nod in greeting, I promise, but when I entered my stateroom this morning, I was greeted with an invitation to dine in one of the ship’s private dining rooms, with the lady I was to get to know as Mrs B.
Mrs B, I discovered, was from Akron Ohio where she stated the only claim that the city has to fame is that it’s the Rubber Capital of the US - (her family being instrumental in) and she lives there.
Remembering her finery whilst boarding, there was nothing for it but to don my finest glittery jacket, put on my most obsequious demeanor and proceed as commanded.
We were a select table, with the captain’s secretary (the captain had sent his regrets) and one of the senior officers, our only restrictions being no discussion on politics or sex. Both rules were broken once the first bottle of champagne was disposed of.
Fannie, it turns out, was quite the story teller.
After arriving in her suite that first day, she was contacted by the ship’s housekeeper and informed that her Chanel bag and Louis Vuitton luggage had made a close acquaintance with the San Francisco Harbour. Her dresses had survived - if a little damp, however her chocolates and kindle had not.
What followed was a short discussion regarding the merits of dry-cleaning her selection of haute couture and what must have been a mountain of clothing and intimate apparel.
A little later she was contacted again and asked to attend the security office. Here, she was interviewed by SECO himself, asking why she was concealing a weapon and trying to smuggle it aboard.
"A weapon?" gasped our surprised host. "All of my guns have been left at home." (I can only imagine what sort of Colt Mrs B might carry.)
It appeared however, that SECO was not referring to her collection of weapons, but a knuckle duster that had been found in her now saturated Chanel bag.
"Ahh well, yes,” explained our feisty host - all five foot two of her - as she displayed her $50,000 Alexander McQueen handbag with a clasp shaped like a knuckle duster, decorated in diamonds, skulls and the biggest amethyst you have ever seen - "that is quite another story.”
Oh, how we laughed. Oh, how she laughed. Oh, how we laughed at her laughing.
Our heroine then reminded security that she used to be a lawyer. Enough said. I might pull back a little on the accusations, Mr Cunard!
Fannie was due to leave the ship in Sydney, but had decided that as all of her houses (!) were closed up for the season, she may as well stay in her $3000 a day suite for the remainder of the cruise. That’s another 74 days. Oh how the other half live!
Dessert was Rum Baba, which was swimming in rum; I had two, so did Fannie.
I love Mrs B - she’s me in a pink frilly designer gown, but somewhat short of her millions. (ROSS THORBY)
#worldcruise #rossthorby