I think I did it - two photos of the library where I m right now, at 5 a.m. on Sunday March 29. My computer thinks it's last night, Mach 28 at 6 p.m. So that's why the dates on my blogs are out of sync with my activities. It's okay, it's all okay. As some of you have realized, I have been struggling with my iPhotos, taken with my iPad mini, transferred to Little Mac and then somehow jockeyed into sight on the blog. This morning I finally did it.
And today I finally, no, not finally, but temporarily or partially, get caught up. We have been busy since boarding the ship and today is the first full day of sailing, with no excursions, across the Gulf of Thailand to Vietnam. It never occurred to me that I'd ever get to this part of the world. I have to study the map to see where I am.
I have tonnes of things to say in blogs, from descriptions of places and activities to encounters with people, fellow passengers, to ideas and queries and musings on things that come up. Example, nothing to do with a travelblog: a dinner partner last night was talking about the laundry lists, how unrealistic they are, how inaccurate and behind the times and how difficult it is to make out a decent laundry list, with no room for adequate instructions and she went into detail. Funny? She's right, of course.
So many things like this make me think of kids' camp. I remember one camp experience that my son Matt had when some kids in the camp developed ringworm and the staff panicked and took ALL the laundry and washed it all at once without sorting or labelling or categorizing or anything. Matt came home with about half of the clothes he left with. But he didn't have ringworm.
The cruise staff must view all of us passengers as barely competent campers who need constant guidance. When I was researching for my play Time Bomb, about mentally ill people in a boarding house, I went undercover and lived with the residents in such a home for about three weeks. I remember thinking as I joined them for my first dinner in the dining room, that the atmosphere was like that of a cruise ship, slightly skewed.
And here I am, on the real thing. So what is real?
More anon. It's Sunday, and I have time.