Safe home

Maggie thinks that my idea of a holiday isn't much like a holiday. It goes something like this "Do you fancy going to suchandsuch?" So we book a hotel for suchandsuch and drive there. On day two we have no more plans. I say "thingummyjig, is only 200/300kms away do you fancy that?" We drive there and hunt around for a hotel which is usually a bit more pricy and a bit less pleasant than we hoped. We traipse the streets, we eat in a restaurant, we go in museums and churches.

I'm a bit fed up with them myself. I can't ever remember which church had the Churrigueresque door and which the Rococo. I quite fancy a bungee jumping holiday or a wine tasting one or maybe one of those themed history trails but somehow, instead, we seem to end up driving thousands of kilometres and forgetting where we've been.

Maggie wanted a cruise. Not too expensive as holidays go, your clothes stay in the wardrobe for the week, waiters serve you too much food, the bars are always open, the cities and museums and Rococo doors come to you and of course you can have a go at karaoke or bingo if you tire of the smooth sounds of the classical duo. Oh, and you're on a boat too.

We popped across to Mallorca on a local flight, got a boat called the Thomson Dream out to Italy where we did Rome, Pisa, Livorno and Santa Margherita then into France for Marseille and into Spain, well Catalunya, for Tarragona before heading back to Mallorca.

It was good enough. The people we met were pleasant though the passengers did tend to elderly and overweight (like me!) The sun shone. There were flashes of splendour and unexpected gems in amongst lots of ordinary. On the boat I realised how Eduardo the cat must feel when he's in the flat in Cartagena - plenty of space really but nowhere to go.

I won't keep rabbiting on but there are photos on the "some of my snaps" link. It's a bit like coming round for the holiday slide show but without the amusing anecdotes or sherry.