Tropical Rain
For the first few days of our cruising adventure, the seas were so calm we’d often forget we were on a boat but last night, as our trusty Captain swung the bow to point southwards, our vessel ploughed her way through some more turbulent waters, giving us some more rocking and rolling than just what we’ve seen onstage.
After a decent holiday-worthy sleep-in, Jude donned her activewear for a spot of gym time while I did the complete opposite and had a massage (all that dancing is exhausting you know). We would rendezvous at o-ten-hundred-hours (that’s ship-speak, in case you weren’t aware) at the coffee shop where our talented barista would call everybody’s (mispronounced) name at least three times, rapid-fire. Judy,Judy, Judy was suitably impressed he now knows her order by heart.
A delicious brunch was had in the garish Liberace Room (where there is actually a completely new menu EVERY day) and we prepared for some quality time on the pool deck
While we were obliviously munching on muesli, rain clouds had swept in to give the Luminosa a good drenching and, as we emerged from the lift into the light of day, we were nearly bowled over by the gusty gale. It was only sprinkling now but sizeable puddles on banana lounges gave us the impression we’d missed the worst of it. What’s a bit of tropical rain between friends eh? We didn’t let it deter us from our daily pool time. Besides, I had a good book to read. It was still a warm 30 degrees and let’s face it, there’s nothing more refreshing on a hot day than cyclonic winds. The best part was that just about all the much-sought after, (sometimes fought over) poolside pods were vacant. How good! We snapped one up and hunkered down, hoping it didn’t get launched across the deck, or worse still, be jettisoned overboard.
With a staggering 32 bands aboard this rocking boat, it’s understandable that people may get some of their names mixed up. There are the Baby Animals, the Filthy Animals and the Screaming Jets for a start. One of our dinner time companions was struggling and enquired as to whether we were going to see the “Filthy Pigs”. We were stifling the giggles as she tried to clarify. Was it: “Screaming Animals”, “Baby Pigs”, “Filthy Jets”?
To say that Jude, who I’ve now nicknamed ‘Ms Whippy’, is a bit partial to a scoop or two of icecream, is an understatement. She’s scoped out where all the soft-serve stations are (there are many) and will casually pipe a bit of creamy goodness into a little cup whenever we pass one. It’s just a little taster mind you, not a lot. A traveller of sorts; sustenance for strolling the decks.
Chocolate Starfish got the crowds pumping this afternoon when the rain had abated. The lead singer’s neck adorned with his signature feathers, (which Jude noted were really just fairy wings worn the wrong way-boom!) he had everyone on their feet, singing and clapping with gusto. The crowd scored an A for enthusiasm and 100% for participation, if we do say so ourselves.
We made our way back down to the bowels of the ship for some more subdued acoustic vibes and seriously great blues singing, before a raucous Screaming Jets took to the main stage with a cast of thousands jumping in unison to the chugging guitars and thumping beat.
Our wholesome dress-up theme tonight was “Cruise, Booze and Tattoos”, which was a curious one considering most of the passengers adhered to the theme by default, just being themselves. It was a fun guessing game of fake vs real as we assessed everyone’s ink jobs.
The late night pizza spot was doing a roaring trade and we joined the tattooed revellers (our authentic tribal sleeves fooling everyone I’m sure) indulging in midnight snacks. Then it was off to bed, but not before Ms Whippy got a soft serve for the road.
