Atlantic Blackout

Firstly, an update: I've uploaded an album of photos from England. Click here or, as always, find the link on the right-hand sidebar.

Carry on then.

I'm sure I'll be breaking some sort of unspoken rule of etiquette when I drag my ratty backpack and guitar onto "the most magnificent ocean liner ever built", as Cunard modestly describes her. I'll also be wearing my jeans and boots so I have enough room to stash the wine I'm bringing aboard.

Well assuming they let me on in my vagabond state, I certainly won't be posting any blog updates for the next week. I'd like to take this opportunity to apologize personally to my audience. I sincerely hope all four of you can somehow get through the next seven days.

My cabin mate, whom I met for lunch last week in Hampstead, has informed me that though Internet connections are available, it's expensive and slow. I won't bother. This will be her second voyage on the Queen Mary 2.

I plan to use my time somewhat more productively. A daily gym regimen in the mornings, swimming and reading in the afternoons, napping, watching movies, gluttonizing myself at all opportunities, hobnobbing with the retirees, and of course dressing up in my suit.

Quick aside about that suit and more bastards at customs: I had to pay 30 pounds for my own goddamned suit in taxes and handling fees for the parcel company the customs are in cahoots with. Dirty bastards. At least it was easier to deal with and less exploitative than than the crooks in Turkey.

I've also heardtell that the stars are not to be missed at night. The Sonoran or Australian deserts are great places to get away from light pollution, but the middle of the Atlantic surely has even those places beat providing the ship isn't obscenely lit up. Hell, the boat even has it's own planetarium.

I've got quite a library of books to get through, in addition to what's available in the ship's library. I'm currently reading Half of a Yellow Sun, then after that will surely be Within Whicker's World, seeing as I have been described as the American Alan Whicker. Then The Satanic Verses, and if I have time, The Guv'nor by Lenny McLean. McLean fought gypsys in bare-knuckle boxing matches, and his autobiography's tagline is: "I look what I am - a hard bastard!"

If you thought I was erudite before, just wait until I get through this reading list.