The Voyage of the Marco Polo. Part 1-to Amsterdam

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Our trip on the Marco Polo started at Tilbury on a Sunday. Ady and I had booked to go on this five day jaunt round the fleshpots of Europe, Amsterdam, Rouen and Antwerp for 500 quid each. Not a lot of money by cruise ship cost standards but a sizeable sum for an impoverished pensioner with two publicans and a bookmaker to support.
There were a few hiccoughs before the holiday.
The itinerary was changed to stop at Zeebrugge (for Bruges) instead of Antwerp which was a shame as I had never been to Antwerp. The change was for "operational reasons" whatever that meant.
The well publicised death of an elderly passenger when a freak wave smashed a window in the ship's Waldorf Restaurant just after Christmas caused some consternation. The degree of freakishness was apparent when seeing the ship for the first time and realising the restaurant is some six or seven storeys high! It must have been a hell of a wave. I decided that one "operational reason" might be the double glazers of Zeebrugge were more competitive than those of Antwerp.....

The only other blip was that we had booked a twin bedded standard outside cabin. With about a week to go we were upgraded. Marvellous. To a De luxe Cabin with much more space, a complimentary bottle of wine and a bowl of fruit.Super. It was pointed out that the picture showed a King Size Double Bed. Surely it split into a twin.
I told Ady that much as I loved him I wasn't sleeping in the same bed and he made enquiries. A couple of days later we were downgraded though only one class so still finished up with a very nice twin bedded cabin but no free wine and no bowl of fruit. Given that we were setting off on the weekend when Gay Marriages (a contradiction in terms in my opinion) were  first conducted legally in the UK I expect the people that organise the cabin allocation thought we were on honeymoon.

Our cabin. Very comfortable and spacious with the assuring presence of lifejackets inside and the lifeboats outside the window.

Just in case we run into one of these buggers in the Thames Estuary

The other matter that exercised the mind before sailing was the question of alcohol. Marco Polo, along with many other liners, have a policy of not allowing passengers to bring booze on board,either on embarkation from Tilbury or at any of the stops along the way. If, say, you bought some wine in Rouen the policy is that they unburden you of it and let you have it back on the last day. Now I know most people like to have a snifter in the cabin whilst getting changed but took the view that if that was the policy then fair enough.

It was there to be broken

Discussions with various self styled experts in smuggling came up with a variety of options involving the use of different bits of equipment, some of it medical, secreted in various orifices. All ingenious but all leaving one of a nervous disposition wondering whether, if successful, one really fancied a whisky that had been stored in a cholostomy bag and  if unsuccessful,  could one bear the embarrassment of being paraded before the Purser to explain.
My idea was simple. A Piz Buin bottle emptied, cleaned, sterilised and filled with whisky. The only technical draw back I could see was how to stop the liquid from coming out of the little hole as at the same time as giving the game away would also mean one's clothes smelling of an indifferent blended for the whole five days. A simple solution appeared to be cling film over the hole and hidden by the covering flap. Tests were conducted with water and the bottle was stood upside down in the laboratory for two days. Not a sign of any leak so on to Stage Two.
Same procedure as for the water. The nght before departure I examined the container before packing. Disaster. If that is what whisky does to cling film I dread to think what it does to your liver! No time to think of an alternative I tried the whisky. Yuk. Suntan lotion- tainted Scotch will not catch on. Experiment abandoned.
The day of embarkation went well till we got to Tilbury. Parking chaos. Apparently the ship had docked late that morning and was still trying to send the last passengers home when we arrived. Usual scenario...queues everywhere of people and traffic, people stood around wondering what to do and where their loved ones had got to, general lack of info on what was happening. All those things we English do so well. What I would have given for a shot of Piz Buin whisky.

This one was a "selfie" of the honeymoon couple outside ASDA in Tilbury. We had gone there to get a coffee whilst the ship company worked out how to get 800 passengers on board at the same time as getting 800 off.
It was a very nice coffee.

Eventually got on board about two hours after arriving and having slung our bags in the very nice cabin headed for one of the bars. A quiet beer as we slipped our moorings and headed down the Thames estuary and pointed towards Amsterdam
There now follows loads of boring photos. So many I can't remember why I took them

J

Before we sailed there was boat drill. I made three holes in the cabin wall with mine.
After a good dinner and a comprehensive survey of the ships' bars I discovered we were well out to sea. At dinner we found ourselves seated with Rosemary and Ray who it transpired had the cabin from which we'd been downgraded. I opined that because we weren't afficionadoes of the pink oboe we had been prejudiced against to the tune of a complimentary bottle of wine and a bowl of fruit.The lovely Rosemary said as they didn't drink we could have the wine but they were keeping the fruit, Marvellous.Also on our table were Tom and Marion and the six of us seemed to get along well. A pleasant evening. Went to bed so as to wake and photograph our arrival early morning in Amsterdam. First I knew was we were moored up and shuffling ashore. A very comfy bed, obviously.

The Marco Polo moors very near to the Grand Centraal Station in Amsterdam-about a 20 minute walk.
We had the option of a 50 quid excursion involving a coach from ship to where the trip boats left and a coach back. We walked and had already pre-booked the boat tour for 13 euro. Result!

But first Ady went ashore to take some pictures of the ship. His enthusiasm got him a reprimand from some uniformed oik about not being allowed to walk around the dock. He paid no heed. Bloody foreigners.

Loadsabikes.

Our trip boat awaits

But first a tincture by the canal in the originally named Van Gogh cafe so called because every time the waiter asks if you need a drink you say "No, I got one ear"

Now lots of canal pictures but before you skip those the trip on the canals was excellent and never having been to Amsterdam before I was very impressed.

It was a lovely sunny day and after Ady had managed to upset the Port Official  we walked to the Centraal Station aand caaught a boat. (I've sussed out this Dutchish Laanguage-just shove an extra voowel in wherever you faancy) In fact I don't know why they have their own language cos they all speak English better than what the English does.

There was a crooked house

Miles of canals lined with boats. The guide explained that you could only add a boat to Amsterdam's waters if you took one away. How about it CaRT?

The dog lovers among you will enjoy this boat dog

By a crooked church

Don't ask-you can't afford it.

We spent a very pleasant hour afloat passsing the many churches, museums and whorehouses for which the city is famed. There was one window with a beauty sat gazing out. Ady tapped on the glass and enquired "How much?" to which she replied "A Thousand euro"
He said he thought that was expensive but she explained it was double glazing.

Past a coffee house where one could get quite taken by the atmosphere. Not to be sniffed at.

Past the Anthrax Museum

A boat made of onion skins

Trees made from green bottles

And back to base

Time for a cup of choocolaate

More bikes. This is just outside Centraal Station. They have another bike park that holds 3000 bikes!

It's Ady's turn with the red trousers

Time for another wander round the deockside

 and old misery tells him off again. The obvious problem is Ady looks so like a terrorist he would strike fear into the heart of any border guard

Back Here Ady.

We're off back down the canal to the sea. We'd missed all this on the way in cos we were akip.I was daark anyway

A shipshape design

OK-Boo!

Bloomin fishermen get everywhere

The sun is out and so are the passengers.

It's a race!

Back down the canal to the sea lock

Lock ahead. Get the windlass Ady.

Right a bit....

More cyclists

We've got company

The crew watch the lock fill

Now does the gate go up, swing out, split in two?

It slides into the side!

Brilliant-and we slept through all this on the way in!

And out to sea

The next post which will follow shortly will cover the second half including Rouen and Bruges. Then time must be found to publish a post on our St George's Party. Busy busy busy.