On Board the QE2   It was commented on last summer, on our first trip on the QE2, then Germany, then the Deutschland, that, even though I had the laptop with us, not much communicating came from it. We'll see how it goes this time, starting with our transatlantic crossing on the Queen Elizabeth 2.

I had heard that the QE2 had e-mail capability via satellite, so I was looking forward to trying to send e-mail from on board. Apparently, they even just updated the system two weeks ago. However, everything has to go through their e-mail system; you can't access your own e-mail or send from your laptop. And on their system (they do have a decent computer room), others have to write to you at that special address, but the worst is, although sending is only 95 cents a minute, incredibly, you can't compose offline, so the clock starts ticking even as your're trying to figure out everybody's e-mail address that otherwise would be conveniently in your address book, and as you write. So I threw up my hands. I'll do without the novelty. We're sitting in our cabin at the moment, with our laptop (bless its little heart). Since there's time on shipboard, I'll put down a few thoughts and try to send them at our first hotel stop in Exeter.

She's in   Sunday was departure day, and it turned out to be more interesting than usual. From our apartment we often see ships departing outbound down the Hudson, simply because they usually depart in the late afternoon. As for arrivals, except for the odd one that comes in during the day, we never see them because they arrive at dawn inbound up the Hudson. But on Sunday I happened to wake up for a moment at 6:36, and even in my foggy state and without my glasses I spotted the back half of the QE2 for the first time passing our windows inbound. A nice start.

It's ours!   We arrived at the ship terminal just upriver in Midtown Manhattan in the early afternoon, and dropping off our baggage, we were walking towards the check-in when a middle-aged man, apparently a passenger, walked up to us and this off-the-wall conversation ensued. --Where did you get the wheelchair? --It's ours. --Yes, but where did you get it? --It's ours! --I know, but how did you get it? --We brought it in the taxi with us!! At that point the nickel dropped and he raised his palms in comprehension and left. Talk about a conversation going in two different directions.

Handicapped Boat Drill   We had a few hours until departure, and since we already knew the ship from our crossing last summer, we just spent it settling in to our cabin. I had chosen the cabin specially last year because I knew it had a straight roll-in for the wheelchair without turns. There was a complementary bottle of champagne, so I had two BLT's sent in (how romantic) and we celebrated. Many crossings have themes. Last year's was "Big Bands", and this one was "Chef's Palate". Along with the usual speakers, they were apparently going to have three chefs giving demonstrations.

At 4:15, even before we left the pier, we were going to have boat drill. Everyone looks funny in big orange life vests, but you should see Bev in a wheelchair in one. Everyone trotted off to their muster stations, but all handicapped people and companions had a special station, in the Golden Lion Pub. When we got there, you never saw such a collection of wheelchairs, walkers, and canes! As we were headed to our seat along the wall, I commented that the place looked like a disaster area, and people laughed.

It's Her   We sat down, and I was surprised when I spotted her. She uses the kind of walker (well, she is 90) that you can turn around and sit on. You see where I'm getting, don't you? This is the Chef's crossing. And I thought it was so appropriate that she was there together with us in the handicapped area. Just three wheelchairs to our left, sitting on her walker, was, yes, Julia Child.

Dancing   Going eastbound is bothersome because you lose an hour a day, ending up with five (out of 6) 23-hour days. It's like "spring forward" day after day. Coming back, evenings will be more fun, with five 25-hour days, (like "fall behind" day after day) this time out of 7, since we make a stop for a day, exceptionally, in Le Havre.

We choose the late dinner sitting, so knowing you're about to lose an hour, there's time, maybe, for a little dancing. We usually do a few dances on the dance floor, which is not odd, because in Paradise Lakes we do that all the time. But this time, a number of different strangers came up to us and commented that they were glad to see us dancing. The first was an ebullient, rather short Japanese lady, who bubbled over in Japanese about our dancing. At least I understood her hand gestures. A lady came up and said when her mother goes on a cruise, she's going to have her father get her up out of her wheelchair.

Chief Officer   Last year, I just asked to be seated for dinner at a table for eight. We learned that the larger tables are often "hosted" tables, meaning an officer will be seated with you. We had various officers from the Engineering Department, and were invited to special cocktail receptions the Engineers gave.

This year I specified a hosted table, and I was delighted to find out we're at the Chief Officer's table. I looked it up and he's third in command, after the Captain and Staff Captain. He turned to be a Bob Irvine from Liverpool, and we had a delightful talk.

Mackintosh   It turns out that in celebration of Glasgow's (or Glasgow University's?) 550th birthday, there's a large contingent of Glaswegians on board on a special tour. I had known about Charles Rennie Mackintosh from the early 1900's and thought of him largely as an interior designer, and designer of furniture, but at a lecture Monday by a curator from the Hunterian Museum in Glasgow I realized he was primarily an architect who included interiors and furniture in what he did. He was compared to Frank Lloyd Wright, and his style is similar to Wright's Prarie School, and of course, Wright also did interiors and furniture.

Before dinner yesterday, at the Captain's Cocktail Reception, I got into a conversation about Mackintosh with a man who turned out to work for the Scottish Government in historic preservation. It turned out that one of the things he enjoyed in New York was the Tenement Museum.

Julia Child   Today was Julia Child's turn to have a presentation. If you've seen her on TV lately, you know that her head now bends forward, and she usually just stands on the side and comments while someone else does the cooking. That's what she did today, with the QE2 Executive Chef preparing Scallops with Garlic, Rack of Lamb, and Floating Island. It was a lot of fun, and the emcee said at the beginning that in all his years on the QE2 he's never seen the Grand Lounge as full for a presentation as today.

Afterwards she was available for book signings outside the bookstore. The line went down one corridor and up the next. The bookstore ran out of her books, and people were having her sign their programs. We went off for a while and came back as she was finishing. I told her Bev would like to shake her hand (I did too--I'm not stupid) and I mentioned it was fun that we were all in the same area at the boat drill.

Reception   It's Wednesday. After I finished writing the above yesterday, two invitations were slipped under the door inviting us to the Officers' Wardroom today before dinner for cocktails. As I remember from last year, I have to ask them to bring out the small, portable wheelchair ramp to enter the Wardroom. [later] Had a wonderful chat with one of many people who have been crossing on the QE2 for many years.

André Soltner   The second cooking presentation was today, by André Soltner, who used to own Lutèce in New York. He prepared Salmon en Croûte, and had about half a dozen huge ones ready so that everyone in the audience could taste it afterwards. He kept kidding around that Julia was in the audience, and that she might have something to say afterwards. It was fun. Afterwards, we just happened to get in an elevator with Julia. With her walker and our wheelchair, I joked about a lot of wheels trying to fit in. She made it a point to ask Bev how she was, which was nice.

Whistler   The lady from Glasgow University gave a slide lecture about James MacNeil Whistler, pointing out that Whistler's mother was Anna MacNeil, a Scot. The University has a large collection of Whistlers.

Tea   We finally went to tea at four this afternoon; nice finger sandwiches and cakes. We did it regularly last year, but today was the first time this trip. I won't skip it again. We also stopped in at the tour office about our crossings next year. I'm considering seeing France for the first time in a while.

Chocolate   The third chef was today, Thursday. He was a chef from DC named François Dionot, who prepared chocolates and chocolate pastries, also with samples. In the afternoon I caught ten minutes of an interview in the Grand Lounge with British actor Terence Stamp.

Outside!   Since leaving NY, the weather cooled off with lots of overcast. The temperature hovered in the 50's, and there was some rain. But today cleared, and we went out on the Boat Deck for some sun and fresh air. Just two days ago, on the noon announcement they said the nearest landfall was Newfoundland, and today the nearest landfall is the south coast of Ireland. At tea today, instead of the pianist from yesterday, today it was the harpist's turn, and fortunately we got there just before it started at four. She was sitting quietly in the middle of the dance floor in the Queen's Lounge, and just at four she started to play and the waitstaff paraded in through a back door with their trays, which was very impressive.

Cunard World Club   It's Friday, our last full day on the ship. We had gotten invitations under the door for the champagne reception always given to members of the Cunard World Club, which is anyone who has been a past passenger. This is taken more seriously than frequent flyer "clubs", and a lot of people seem to know each other. There were enough to fill the Queen's Lounge. We shook hands with Captain Warwick (that's Warrick), who really looks the part with a thick, long, white beard. They announced the names of a number of people who have spent 500 nights or more on Cunard ships. Then they announced the names of two women who have over 1000 nights, one of which lives on board full time. She's elderly, and finds it preferable to a nursing home, since they take care of her needs. Then they awarded the 100-night pins. If I figure correctly, by the time we get back to NY we'll have completed 29 nights with Cunard, so we're pikers. And they do take this stuff seriously.

Arrival in England   We landed this morning in England, in Southampton, and picked up our rental car right at the dock, prepared to do a modified update of the grand circuit of Britain and Ireland we had done in 1966. We had the full day, and so had a number of short stops planned en route to Exeter.

Salisbury   From Southampton we drove to Salisbury and stopped at the High Street (Photo by Kaihsu) and Salisbury Cathedral (Photo by Andrew Dunn), completed in 1258 in the English Gothic style.

Longleat House   We proceeded to the Elizabethan (1580) Longleat House (Photo by Peekaboopink), the first stately house to open to the public, and took the tour of the interior.

Wells   We drove through the village of Cheddar just to be where the cheese came from, and then stopped in Wells (Photo by Pete Penfold), named after three original wells, one in the market place and two within the Bishop's Palace and Cathedral grounds.

Exeter   We'd booked a hotel in Exeter (Photo by Smalljim), seen here from the top of Exeter Cathedral (Photo by Charles Miller), which we visited the next day. But that night in the Exeter hotel, we ordered Roast Leg of English Lamb for dinner, and, for dessert, the curiously named Spotted Dick (Photo by Justinc). "Spotted" refers to the dried fruits, in the pudding, surrounded by custard, and "Dick" is perhaps a variation of the last syllable in "pudding", but the meal certified that we were really back in England.