I arrived at Portsmouth after a relatively straightforward, and slightly dull, 5-and-a-half hour journey, at about 12:30. I say dull; there was a MASSIVE fire somewhere just off to the West of the A1 quite early on - if anyone knows anything about that, I'd love to hear... huge clouds of thick black smoke climbed into the morning air like some nuclear aftermath, orange flames reflected along their underside near the source - whole fleets of fire engines hurtled past on the North-bound carriageway - pretty awesome stuff!

I've been nursing a horrendous cold for the last two weeks (could be man-flu), and have been slightly anxious about boarding the Boudicca with a rasping, hacking cough. I'm much better now, except for this slightly irritating cough which I don't seem to be able to shake, and my voice is quite weak and warbly, which makes me sound worse than I actually am. Anyway; the fact is, it was always possible that I could be turned away and sent home, so I've been working on blagging my way through the boarding procedure, giving as heathly an impression as physically possible. Yeah, right - I managed to cough my way through the sign-in, to questions of; "Ooh, you haven't got swine-flu have you?" - No, no, I reassured the lady behind the desk; I've had a terrible cold, but feeling much better now.. sounds worse than it is....

Exactly the same thing happened at the security check-in; me hacking away as I emptied my pockets of mobile phone, keys and change, whilst trying to explain to the not-very-convinced-looking security guard that I am the Art Tutor and should be on the Security List. Having finally brought my cough under control, I headed for the shuttle-bus carrying the first of the boarding passengers, only to be told, upon realising that I was the Art Tutor, that I would have to walk to the ship... Down the whole length of a plastic-covered walkway, my cough, now re-emerged due to being in the cold air again, echoed gloriously off the walls and ceiling; me doubled-up trying to blag good health, as the shuttle bus passed me, a few noses, pressed to the windows, of passengers no doubt hoping that I wasn't going to be on their ship....

The good news is, of course, that I didn't get turned away. My name was on the list, and I promptly sought out my cabin to have a right good cough...

This is the first time I've been assigned an internal cabin (one without a porthole), and I'm not sure yet how I feel about that. It's nice enough - a bit pokey, but I'm sure I'll soon make it feel like home; just throw a few clothes about - rough up the upholstery a bit, that sort of thing. It has a TV, one channel of which is a view out the front of the ship, so I guess that'll have to do. It's coming up to 2:15, and the main bulk of passengers will be boarding soon. Sail-away is at 17:30, and I've been invited along to an entertainments department get-together at 6:15 in the Neptune Lounge, where I'll get to meet my fellow speakers and entertainers etc. Until then, I think I need to rest my eyes a bit....

Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum etc............ Hope you're having a brill time, and not missing your port hole too much. Maybe you coule paint one on your wall and pretend. At least you can't see any scary waves to make you feel iccy.

Don't forget rule 5 of International Collision regulations, and you'll be ok

Best wishes
Pip Rowntree

Thanks for that Pip - good idea that; paint my own porthole... hm... reaches for paints...

I'm going to have to go and google rule 5 of International Collison Regulations - would that be that you have to sing 'Abide with me' as the ship goes down, or or is it Women, Children and Artists first??

Cheers

Peter