South Pacific Cruise - Day 8 - Pacific Explorer Sea Day
By Cruising With Honey - 14:59
P&O Pacific Explorer
Her fingers gently kneaded my shoulders, working meticulously and deliciously slowly down my back, the coconut oil luxuriously warming my skin. In the moody lighting I lost myself in the gentle sway of the motion, drifting off into a seductive lullaby. Little did I know in that state of bliss, that the next morning I’d be in a wheelchair.
STOP! I know what you’re thinking and no. This isn’t a sexy-time/murder narrative from a trashy romance novel. Rather, I'm setting the scene of my last day on Pacific Explorer. I had woken that morning knowing that everything I’d be doing would be the ‘last’. My last breakfast at the Waterfront, my last iced frappe at Charlie’s, my last lunch at the Pantry… sigh. If I didn’t snap out of this melancholy, I was going to miss out and not enjoy any of it.
After breakfast (I had the breakfast burrito) I had a bit of time to kill before my massage up at Elemis. It was the perfect day at sea, and so I couldn’t think of anything better than soaking up some rays and drinking in the atmosphere on the decks. Armed with our cool drinks, we laughed and cheered on the passengers who were playing some kind of water balloon-towel-tossing game. Among the giggles and splashes, it dawned on me that nowhere else in the world could you watch people of all ages delight in a simple family-friendly game, bond over this absolute absurdity with strangers, while being surrounded by the breathtaking hues of the ocean. As corny as it sounds, my eyes misted over this sudden gratitude of being able to experience all of this. For me, this moment epitomised the magic of cruising.
After the heavenly massage, a quick dip in the pool and a late lunch, it was suddenly the afternoon and time for one last rehearsal. The last week of choir practice with the super talented Anthony Quimby had been such a delight.
Before long it was showtime, and our little choir was buzzing with excitement. The Atrium was packed to the rafters and I felt slightly jittery. We assembled on the steps and waited for our cue. Anthony played the first chords on the baby grand and we inhaled. First, two soloists sang their lines, and then, I was up. My hands were slightly sweaty but I sang my lines, almost losing my breath on the last note, but I DID IT! The next few minutes were a blur, and as the last note faded there was absolute silence. Suddenly, there was a deafening eruption of clapping and cheering. What a moment! Two more songs, more clapping more cheering. Hand on heart, being a part of the guest choir was amazing and definitely a unique and joyous experience!
WATCH THE FULL VIDEO HERE
Thank you Anthony and fellow choristers.
Still bouncing with endorphins, I had the great idea to pack our bags before the evening as I didn’t want to be thinking about packing while wolfing down pizza at 400 Gradi. Yes, it is sad seeing all the corridors lined with bags, but at least I could have an awesome last night and hopefully, stay up till the early hours.
We were warmly welcomed with a huge hug by one of my absolute faves, Jessamine at 400 Gradi. Soon, our table was laden with all sorts of mouthwatering nosh, and we tucked in with much gusto.
Once we’d demolished our mains and waited for dessert, I asked my three honeybees to reflect on our last week. Teen one answered, “Great” and Teen 2 answered “Great”. I waited for my youngest who had been suffering Fortnite withdrawals, experienced horrible sea sickness for the first two days (oh the joys of catching her vomit in my mouth as she chundered out on the open, windy deck) and double-sunburn, sat quietly thinking. After a minute, she said, “Mum, it was perfect! I wouldn’t change a thing.”
Fortnite
Patting myself on the back for pulling off the ‘Perfect Holiday’, and feeling buoyed by my family’s satisfaction, I decided I wanted to spend the last few hours walking around the deck, soaking in the last few moments of the inky sky and breathing in the salt air. The kids and Mr Cruising With Honey wanted to watch the show and so we parted ways, promising to meet at Charlie’s for the final jam night.
As they walked down the stairs, I gave final hugs to the Gradi crew and bounced towards the entrance. As I turned, somehow my leg forgot it was attached to my body. What came next can only be described as a gut-wrenching ‘POP’ followed by blinding, excruciating pain. There I was, doubled over, but somehow trying not to cause a scene and thereby attracting a medic. No, no, no, I was not going to spend my night sequestered in the medical centre.
Somehow, I hobbled down to deck 7, wincing with every step and plonked myself on a stool. Stubbornly, I thought all I needed was to rest for a sec and I’d be dancing shortly. Time passed, pain increased. A lovely person brought me some ice. The show finished. More time passed. I couldn’t get in contact with my family and the pain had increased 10-fold. Somehow I had to make it down to Charlie’s where my family was waiting. Slowly, I inched my way to the elevator and made it halfway across the packed Atrium. Faces looked at me in bewilderment, my tear stained face willing my husband to turn around and look at this wounded sop. Out of nowhere, one of the lovely readers from this blog recognised me and rushed to my aid, helping me into a chair. Oh the melodrama of it all!
I spent my night with some unfriendly ice packs, feeling utterly sorry for myself. Looking around my empty cabin I could only think of two good things: 1) My bags were packed, and 2) I didn’t hurt myself on the first night of the cruise.
Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined that I’d be wheeled off the cruise and being pushed down the gangway in a clunky wheelchair. But looking back now, despite the torn calf muscle, horrible moon boot, crutches and weeks of physiotherapy, I honestly wouldn’t change a single thing!
Life is all about creating memories; some are joyous, others tinged in shades of pain. For me, cruising through this thing called life is an adventure of the most thrilling kind. The discovery of new places, the meeting of kindred souls and the utter escapism of being at one with the vast expanse of the sea. Thank you for joining me on this journey.
Until next time, all my love, Honey
