Lisbon!

In spite of his standing on the seat and constantly calling 'Choose me! Choose me!' Wilson was not chosen to participate in last night's stage hypnotism show. He was a bit disappointed, but mostly it made him very sceptical. After the show he told me he thought it was all a fix, but he'd bear Hypnotism in mind in case his career in Spirit Mediumship fell through.

Today we are is Lisbon, which is our final port of call. We're on the return leg of our journey and after another two Sea Days shall be back in Southampton. 

First we went to see the Torre de Belém or St Vincent's Tower, which was interesting but couldn't compete for Wilson's attention with a statue of a bi-plane a few metres away, commemorating the first flight across the South Atlantic. 

W gazed at it, misty-eyed, saying it reminded him of his ancestor the Blue Baron who fought in the Great Ant Wars of 1921, and also of the time he himself was taking flying lessons. A period I would prefer not to remember…

Next we went into the great Jerónimos Monastery, a huge, late-Gothic building in white stone. When we got inside, W started running about and shouting 'Geronimoooo!' I started to rebuke him, but he said that having been raised a Roman Catholic in Costa Rica he was pretty blasé about churches, and anyway he was only shouting the name of the saint. 

We're Lisbon Bound!

This afternoon, Wilson shot some hoops on the basketball court before heading to the buffet restaurant for tea. On his way there, he noticed a teddy-bear machine and decided that he 'really needed' a new teddy bear. Apart from the fact that Polly-B, Antony and Tiny Toy haven't once left the cabin, I think that £35 is too much to pay for a stuffed toy. W was a bit miffed — I hope he doesn't decide to mount a campaign because he will wear me down. Eventually.

This evening there is a Hypnotist at the theatre — I am very sceptical, but W is extremely excited and insisted on queueing to be the first in as he wanted to choose a seat where he would have the best chance of being chosen.

While we waited for the show to start, Wilson told me that we are like Gypsies travelling the world; settling where we choose then stealing away by night...

He can be quite poetic sometimes.

Tomorrow, we shall arrive in Lisbon!

Torvill and Dean's 30th Anniversary

This morning we attended a talk about Modern Navigation at Sea given by the captain. It was very interesting, and Wilson asked a lot of questions. So many that at one point the captain asked whether he was studying for his Masters' Licence! 

Afterwards Wilson took himself off for a bridge tour… except I'm terribly afraid it might not have been so much a tour as W finding the door unlocked and letting himself in for a look round. After that navigation lecture this morning, I just hope he didn't touch anything — a little knowledge can be a very dangerous thing.

Following lunch we went to the ice rink where, exactly 30 years after Torvill and Dean's Olympic triumph in Sarajevo, W slid uncertainly onto the ice grasping the handles of a stabilising penguin. He told me later that it was much harder than he'd expected and the motion of the ship had made it even more difficult. 

I think his fur softened most of his falls.

César Manrique

One of Wilson's friends, Helen, has parents-in-law who live here in Lanzarote. Unfortunately there wasn't time to visit them, but W says Hello to Helen's in-laws. 

She also suggested that he should look out for the works of famous local artist and architect César Manrique, and by a happy coincidence we found ourselves in a café/gallery where some of his awesome work is displayed! 

Over coffee W said he really loved the black iron sculpture, but that he thought the volcanoes on the island looked a bit like slag-heaps — I think he'd been expecting something more like Mount Fuji, complete with snow-capped peak and cherry trees! 

The landscape here is certainly unlike anything we've experienced before — like a post-industrial film set for Dune. On the trip back to the ship, W said he was thinking of writing a sci-fi novel set here. 

Tomorrow is a Sea Day as we cruise onward to Lisbon. Perhaps he could start work on his novel then… instead of spending a small fortune in the arcades and the casino.

Lanzarote!

Lanzarote! It is very dry here. VERY dry. Most of the gardens we've seen do not aspire to more than a few cacti, and even the palm trees have an irrigation hose run to each of them. Water is at a great premium here.

We visited a farm where Aloe Vera is grown and converted into pharmaceutical products such as skin cream and shampoo. The guide cut one of the plants open and gave each of us a piece, saying that we could rub it into our skin or eat it as we chose. I rubbed mine over my arms but Wilson, not wanting to make his fur sticky, ate his sample. 

He made quite a lot of fuss spitting it out into a bin. I tried to hush him but he complained loudly saying, 'But you didn't taste it, New Dad! It was terrible!' The guide had said it tasted 'Special… in a good way' but W insisted that his piece tasted like snot. 

Anyway, I bought some Aloe Vera shampoo and we headed to a leisure park elsewhere on the island, with W still making gagging noises…

Party!

After leaving Johnny Rocket's Diner we headed off to the all-night Deck Party!

I must say that, for an anteater who only an hour before had declared himself to have 'never felt fuller,' he managed to tuck away a prodigious quantity of buffet food! 

After an hour or so of snacking and dancing to the live bands, Wilson ended up rocking on-stage to applause from the partygoers — you'd almost think they'd never seen a dancing anteater before! 

Although we boogied until after midnight, we eventually had to return to our cabin before the party ended as we have to make an early start in Lanzarote tomorrow morning!

Johnny Rocket

Instead of eating in the grand silver service restaurant, I took Wilson to the on-board American Diner, Johnny Rocket's. 

He ordered the largest vegetarian burger I have ever seen, and proceeded, much to the surprise of the serving staff, to sprinkle ants all over it, and a huge ice-cream sundae to follow.

Every thirty minutes or so, the juke-box would play very loud disco music — Stayin' Alive by the Bee-Gees or Donna Summer's Last Dance were popular — and all the staff would come out and dance. Wilson joined in with the dancing enthusiastically, although I was a little afraid that after so much burger and fries he might be sick.

When the meal was finished and neither of us could eat another thing, W announced that he had never felt fuller, nor enjoyed a meal so much. 

He doesn't know that the night is not yet over…