I am Moored Off Cannes «

I am Moored Off Cannes

Saturday 6^th April 2013 (on board the Krystal Quest)

We’re building up for the President’s dinner in Acqualina. We’re moored off Cannes. Randy Azurental and his beautiful wife, Poni (6 foot Louboutins), are to receive us. Acqualina is top-end, done in boudoir powder-blue with white trim and crystal aspects. Otherwise there’s Prime C, mahogany and red for a steakhouse feel, where we’ve dined twice, once, amazingly on a paying basis; that was to see Chateau d’If from the window as we passed last night, whence Monte Cristo’s Count escaped. Otherwise we’re in Windows Café with six types of bacon, the patisserie selection hovered over by American ladies, wildly abandoning their sticks as they load up, the magnificent cheese lawn, the cured fish counter, the sugarless options, supplemented by crushed chicken in breadcrumbs (‘It seems quite entire to me,’ Val said, trying it.) and the waffle and pancake hatch.

What a limitless range!

Only Discoveries has alluded us so far. That’s the main restaurant on Deck 5. Val wants to try the Astral Spa for deep re-allignment but will probably take a lecture on the history of Aix and Avignon instead. We’ve already had the Michael Bublé tribute and ‘Danzare to Dance’, a cabaret of which we took 15 minutes. Tonight is ‘All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go,’ given by the Cruise Director, who starred in a lovely musical, ‘Gilbert and Sullivan’, in London’s West End.

Claris from Australian Vogue has sought us out. She’s wild for ‘All Dressed Up and Nowhere to Go’. On the tender back from Cannes this morning, I was trying to convey facts about Câp Ferrat but she and Val were busy singing show tunes. Malcontents on board are homing in on us, singing show tunes and telling us about people on shore they know who play for our team.

I’m to wear velvet to the President’s Dinner. There’s a room full of slot machines and roulette wheels. The average income on board is supposed to be $250,000 but really…. I’ll say no more. Many of the husbands have sadly passed, or are even deceased. ‘My husband is deceased,’ a breakfasting lady said this morning.

We spend hours studying literature offering options. We’re furious to be missing the Bridge tour with Captain Ball.

I’ve never been more exhausted in years.