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Roommates At the ferry terminal we met Arran and Rebecca from New Zealand. Both were in their early twenties. Arran was a slight lad with sandy shoulder length hair. His left ear sported a cross earring. Rebecca's short, curly red hair was buzzed above her ears. With her cycling shorts she wore a loose-fitting, extra large floral silk shirt. They had been in Europe for fifteen months. Beginning in Greece, they cycled five months to the UK, then worked in Scotland the remainder of their time. We amused ourselves swapping travel tales. Four other cyclists were also crossing. A father and son team, dressed in tight geeky bike apparel, proudly told us they were navigating their way to the Arctic Circle. Aboard, the steward instructed us to our cabin on the seventh deck. Our first hunt resulted only in finding reclining chairs. We double-checked with reception and confirmed the cabin was indeed on the seventh floor. Cabin U1 turned out to be a conference room shared with thirty other fellow passengers--most of whom also incorrectly assumed they were getting a private cabin. A pile of air mattresses was provided. Sharon and I staked out a claim to a piece of floor. Two late arriving women in skirts, high heels and luggage on wheels, were the funniest. Upon being greeted by about twenty other passengers as they opened the door to U1 wailed, "Wait a minute. This is a mistake. This is a very big mistake!" "No mistake," the porter informed them. "But we had a cabin!" they cried in unison. "This is a cabin," the porter calmly informed. And then added, "This is better than my tiny cubicle by the engine room. It's hotter than hell down there with no air." "Do we get blankets?" the redhead asked hopefully. "Nope," someone cheerily replied. "Great," fumed the redhead. "First they tell us no cabins..." "... then they tell us no blankets," the brunette finished her friend's statement. They moaned out loud as they plunked themselves down on an air mattress. The porter took that as an opportune moment to make his exit and quietly slipped away. A Norwegian girl next to the new arrivals bubbled, "This is much better than the reclining chairs or even a small cabin. We have lots of fresh air." "This is great," the redhead chirped. "Who needs a cabin when we can go camping? Then thoughtfully added, "I should have brought a sleeping bag though." Sitting on her air mattress the redhead dejectedly began unloading her suitcase. Out came a giant Paddington teddy bear; followed by a second, equally large, auburn teddy bear; then some souvenirs from the UK; an economy sized bag of tacos and last, a genuine taco maker. Just in case she wanted to make some tacos in her cabin, I guessed. A fellow lying on his air mattress scrinched under a table grinned at the redhead, "I have a large cabin." Another chap wasn't getting enough of that fresh air. He removed his pants and walked around in just his underwear, not only in our cabin but also the hallway and who knew where else. After his excursion he came back and laid on his mattress in his gonchees. Where else could one receive so much entertainment, included with the price of a crossing of the North Sea? We met Arran and Rebecca in the Tyne pub and regaled in cabin misfortunes until a tacky piano player began singing, providing the so-called atmosphere, belting out renditions of ancient moldies. Drowning out any hope of a conversation we retired to our cabin at 11 pm and found we were the only ones in the room. I arranged my fuzzy for a pillow and crammed my ear plugs in until they hit bone. |
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