Wintertime in Amsterdam (London to Amsterdam aboard the Viking Venus)

And London is almost a memory, dear reader. It is our last day here and we will be joining our fellow cruise travellers later today. I must say I have enjoyed our time here much more than I expected. I suspect we will be back if for no other reason than to visit Zoë en route to Scotland and Wales. Both countries are still on our list. Although I imagine we will be here at a warmer time of year. That said, the cold weather is easily endured with the right clothes.

The morning was unremarkable. Grey, light drizzle and hot, 10°. Well, comparatively hot for the time of day. Not that the temperature was going much higher, but it meant we could dispense with gloves and beanies. Breakfast today was at the Refectory at Southwark Cathedral. They serve the baked goods of Le Comptoir, one of the purveyors from the Borough Market next door. The bonus was it is a much more salubrious setting. Indoors, out of the wind.

Bridget Jones' house.

Sorry, meant to include this photo in the last post. Anyway, the door to Bridget Jones' house from the famed movie. Ah, no. I haven't seen it, but apparently everyone else has.

The Refectory

We weren't the first patrons of the day but the café chairs were still turned up against the tables. No problem. Order placed, coffee made we sat and enjoyed the triple shot long blacks. Until some random worker turned up. She waltzed in, placed a tray in the rack and, without removing her backpack or putting her bag down, proceeded to set the chairs right. What does that mean exactly? She righted every chair in the café by dragging the legs across the stone floor. It created quite a racket, to the extent where we had to stop talking to each other while her 'work' was in progress. Not sure what her job description was but after creating enough ruckus to raise the dead in the crypts below the Cathedral, she greeted a couple of other workers and then turned, headed outside and back onto the street, still in firm possession of the backpack and bag, never to be seen (or thankfully heard) again by us.

Just breaking up the text. I love the Shard.

The drizzle had increased slightly as we left so we detoured through the market. Out the other side it had lightened again and we walked the short distance back to the hotel to finish packing. There was some reorganisation to be done to accommodate Jayne's new snow boots and the other items we had purchased at Mountain Warehouse. Easily done. Bags packed.

The journey to Tilbury docks had seemed a little problematic because it involved some level of walking, bag dragging, and train changing and the weather was not being cooperative. However, as we were deciding how best to get to the docks, Uber sent me a 30% discount voucher. Too easy. Uber it is.

Uber

Ah Uber. So the original quote for the trip from the hotel to the passenger terminal in Tilbury was £68.25. The discount and the weather forecast of rain made the 30% discount an attractive proposition. It looked even more attractive on the day as the rain increased. The thought of lugging bags through the streets of London and the industrial dockside of Tilbury was not to be contemplated.

The car tuned up on time, we loaded the bags and drove from the shelter of the hotel driveway into the London traffic and rain. The driver ignoring the first couple of red lights indicated this would be an interesting journey. Although to be fair, dear reader, I'm not much of a passenger and much prefer to be behind the wheel.

The trip was supposed to take just over an hour and while admiring the black fungal spores all over the roof of the car I wondered how long I could hold my breath. However, it was the drive on the motorway that had me most on edge. Conditions had deteriorated significantly and there was no sign of slowing down to suit the intermittent torrential rain. I could see our driver continually glancing down at his lap. Curious behaviour I did not wish to speculate about. 

Jayne later cleared up what he was doing and I was glad I was ignorant at the time. He was watching a movie on his smartphone.

We reached the Tilbury dock area after an hour or so, whereupon he turned, against the obvious road sign directing us to the passenger terminal, into the industrial area. A brief conversation with a worker saw us turn around and head back to the main road.

With the Viking Venus in sight we entered a roundabout to see a huge blue sign stating No Entry Police access Only. Below in smaller print it permitted entry on legitimate grounds. Boarding a cruise ship moored at the dock seemed legitimate.

Inside the car park the signs were all for the other ship. We unpacked the car and bid Bilal farewell and headed for the shelter of the terminal. Viking staff were as rare as hen's teeth because they were all sheltering out of the rain. Sensible, but not helpful.

We were redirected to the Viking terminal after we dropped our bags, passed through security, collected our boarding passes and excursion tickets and went in search of our cabin. At some point in this search, my invoice from Uber arrived. It was not the £68.25 as promised but an eye watering £98.68.

The reasons provided were all spurious. The journey was longer than expected. We added more stops. We changed our destination. I complained. The end result? They refunded the difference between the charges plus £5 for the mouldy state of the car. No mention of watching a movie while driving.

Of course the refund was in Uber credits. Bastards. Still, I suppose it's a win.

The Viking Venus

The ship can accommodate 900 passengers. Somewhat larger than what we have experienced previously. It is a young ship having been commissioned in 2021 so everything looks and feels new. Finding our cabin proved a challenge so the offer of an orientation walk through was eagerly accepted. Judging by the number of other people who signed up, we weren't the only ones struggling to find things.

The deluxe verandah stateroom, I call it a cabin, is quite spacious. A king size bed, 42 inch TV, desk, 2 lounge chairs, coffee table, en suite and of course a balcony with table and chairs. I'm not sure how much use that will get once we get to Norway.

From the inside looking out.

We set sail at 5:45pm while we were sipping on a most delightful Tuscan Vermentino watching the rain continue to fall on the docks. There are four restaurants on board, the World Café, which happens to be on our level, is the casual dining venue. Jeans are permitted! How avante garde. They have a special menu of the day and regular pizza, sushi and grill options. We dined here. The sushi was good and the Vermentino followed us from the bar.

From the outside looking in. Realistic colours.

The staff are, naturally, delightfully friendly and aim to meet your every need. In some cases the needs are anticipated. I know that is how it is meant to be on a cruise such as this, but full marks to them. Harold, our steward, is from Jakarta and is away from his family for six months at a time.

Unpacking was interesting, especially since now was the time for releasing the vacuum bags so the clothes could be restored to their full size. Here's a before and after shot with my gloves there for size perspective. Quite amazing really.

After packing

Before packing

Amsterdam

We discussed the Amsterdam options with one of the customer service team. Our intention was to visit the Rijksmuseum but not with the Venus group. They were doing a canal cruise prior to the museum and we thought, having done the canals last time, we would use the extra time in the museum.

The rain returned. Amsterdam industrial area.

When we discovered we had to be back on board the ship by 1pm we decided to stay on board. When travel time was excluded we would have had 3 hours at the museum. Not enough for us. Besides domesticity and washing called.

The scene from our balcony. At least there is sunshine.

Those that ventured ashore had good weather. We experienced the first sunstained moments of sunshine since leaving home. Washing on, we adjourned to the lounge where we chatted with a couple of American/Kiwis. Academics from the University of Otago who have been in NZ for 20 years.

Today's title was too easy really. Wintertime in Amsterdam is an absolute classic from one of my favourite albums Richard Clapton's 1977 Goodbye Tiger. Technically today is the first day of spring, but let's not be picky.

The North Sea

Currently we are still in port at Amsterdam awaiting spare parts - whatever that means. We are also awaiting champagne which, disappointingly, has yet to be loaded. When we sail tonight we have two days at sea, which I'm certain will be interesting.

Until next time.

Lover, you should've come over (Hà Nôi, Vietnam)

Another adventure begins dear reader, and this time we're off to the previously unvisited countries of Vietnam and Cambodia. To be fair, I have been to the former for work but I'm not sure that counts. Flying visits for trade presentations or 'meet and greets' for prospective students (and their parents), demonstration classes and the like. I really didn't see much of the country and have been keen to return, so when APT offered us a discount trip on the back of some minor problems with our European River cruise last year, the answer was swift and in the affirmative.

This cruise. It was hard to take.

Of course Qantas wouldn't come to the party and wanted some ridiculous amount of money for the airfares so we jumped ship, so to speak, and booked with Singapore Airlines. More on that later.

As with our previous blog posts the title will be a song. Generally the reason for the selection is obvious. Sometimes not. Where possible I'll hyperlink the music somewhere in the post as I explain my choice. Not only does it allow me to share my excellent taste in music, it also provides a window into my thought processes. Probably best not to dwell too heavily on the latter.

Another trip commences with the perennial problem of how to get to the airport. No chauffeur this time. APT thought they had been generous enough. The train to the airport costs around $30 each and we have to travel into Central or out to Wolli Creek and change because, ridiculously, the airport line skirts around Redfern. An inconvenient first world problem and not the last we shall encounter I'm certain. An Uber was projected to cost around $52ish, cheaper than the train and a limo was $80. Then Jayne scored an email from Uber offering a 25% discount for pre-booked fares. Bargain. Uber it is. Booked for a 6:30am pick-up, door-to-door and cheaper than the train and less hassle with the bags.

Despite having booked the ride a week earlier, Richard our driver was only made aware of it that morning. He was on time in his new car that was purchased through SPLEND. Google it dear reader. It's a lease-to-own scheme that ties in with car-share companies like Uber. Richard was spot on time and we were at the airport and heading through customs before 7am. 

On the drive we discussed how Uber actually works. It's quite interesting and certainly not for me. As it is a US based company the pre-booked rides all come through the central program at the same time. Regardless of country. Super keen Uber drivers need to be up and ready to go before 4am when the day's fares come through. It wouldn't take much to tweak the software to ensure a more effective and timely delivery of information.

Sadly there would be no Qantas First Lounge today, but the Singapore Lounge was fine and we settled in for breakfast and the obligatory glass of champagne before we boarded the plane.

It was going to be a long day. Sydney to Singapore, change plane and terminal, then Singapore to Hà Nôi. The layover time in Singapore you ask? Less than an hour. I wouldn't have trusted Qantas to make that narrow window, let alone transit our luggage as well. Spoiler alert. Singapore Airlines nailed it.

The second flight was as uneventful and nowhere near capacity. We discovered "Book the Cook" a little perk of flying Business Class where you can pre-order meals from a much more extensive menu than is usually supplied. Good one Singapore Air. Perhaps Qantas ... nah, not in the current climate, it might shave 1 cent off the dividend.

We breezed through customs. Almost. The official I had seemed intent on reading every stamp in my passport. It's new, I replaced my old one last year, so if all my China visits came up on the screen there was no evidence on the pages before him. After what seemed an eternity the open page was stamped and I was allowed to join Jayne in Vietnam.

Bag collection was also fast and efficient. Unlike Qantas, who promise the world and rarely deliver. The Business Class bags were tagged and actually arrived first. Through the doors and out into the humidity and cigarette smoke, towards the man waving the APT paddle. Thi guided us to our car, outlined the program that would begin in a few days, pointed out some sights and made some recommendations of places we might like to visit.

At the hotel, we were handed over to Long, a former academic who looks only about half of his 50 years. He will be our Tour Director as we cruise down the Mekong.

The room.

The hotel is the Sofitel Legend Metropole, recently refurbished and definitely holding onto its French heritage. We scored a room upgrade because of my years with Accor. Bonus. Waiting in the room were a fruit platter, macarons, chocolates and a drink voucher. More importantly, after being in transit for around 16 hours it was time for a hot shower and then to test out the King sized bed.

The bathroom.

And to the title of this post. OK, I struggled finding a song (a) that was suitable for this post, (b) hadn't been used before and (c) wasn't about the war. In the end I just went random. Surprised? If you've been looking for the link to Jeff Buckley's Lover, you should've come over and found one, I'd love to hear it, because the only reasoning behind it is I like it. A lot. Anyway, have a listen. A great talent gone too soon from this world.

Until tomorrow.