Wow-ee Maui!!

Well played, there... well played.....

I'm here, I'm here!!!  Can't believe that this trip, conceived less than a month ago in response to a random Travelzoo email flight offer, while sitting (again) in the United departure lounge at JFK, has actually arrived!  It's going to be such a pleasure to get on a plane, fly for 5 hrs - then not be in New York at the other end of it!  And be on vacation for a couple of days!!   And it be warm!  And to be in a convertible again!!  (sorry, Chevy Equinox, I do love you but sometimes I just miss my C70).

Anyway, the day started bright and early with a 5am alarm call to get me up and out.  I had been up til 12.30am the night before finishing off some work stuff so it took a while for the brain to stop buzzing round and the boys to settle.  I think I dropped off in the end, but I wasn't going to win any International Sleep Championships with last night's effort.  So, up, showered, dressed, tea, pee and out. On the road just after 5.30am and, in a radical departure for me, NOT heading to SFO and the loving arms of United Airlines (and my Premier 1K status) but to Oakland airport and the strange embrace of Hawaiian Airlines.  The drive to the airport was pretty straightforward, although the road lanes are fairly narrow and, not being familiar with where I was going, it was a touch more stressful than the usual auto-pilot trek to SFO.  But I got there fine, managed to find the car park, parked up, walked through the still-dark car park to the terminal without getting mugged or murdered, checked my bag, and had just a short wait to get through security.  So all in all, a good start to the day.

"Exit row" seat for people with very tiny legs.
I would imagine people are rather pissed off
to get this seat.... which is, presumably, why
it remained empty....

The flight was very smooth, with only a couple of little bumps.  I've not flown Hawaiian Airlines before and they were fine, although the discount bargain price flight ticket that prompted this whole trip has receeding from memory somewhat with all the extras they charge you for!  I paid extra for my checked bag, my exit row seat with extra legroom (but which was a VERY good investment!), my media player AND an upgraded meal.   Ay carumba.  Are you sure you wouldn't just like to keep my credit card, lady at the Hawaiian airlines counter?  The final splurge was for a little fleecy Hawaiian airlines "souvenir" blanket - a necessary purchase as I was completely freezing my ass off sitting next to the exit row, which (probably disturbingly if I thought too much about it) had a wicked draft coming through it.  Lots of leg room, but I was turning into a human icicle, so it had to be done.

Anyway, after 5hrs of building rollercoasters for cavemen in Prehistoric Park, vowing to never eat bread again while reading Wheat Belly, chatting to (OK, OK - up!) the guy in the seat opposite who could have been George Clooney's long-lost twin (HOTNESS!) and enjoying all the local, artisanal goods featured in the in-flight magazine, we had arrived.  Landing in Kahului airport, my first impression (as i craned my head to try and see out of the window) was that it reminded me a lot of Bhutan - verdant Toblerone-esque mountains, patchwork fields, wide valleys framed by dramatic hills - all in all, absolutely stunning.  Its going to be an absolute picture-fest over the next couple of days!!

The luggage didn't take long to arrive, so it was then off to the rental place to pick up my wheels for the stay.  Yep, true to form, I couldn't resist, so got me a brand new Mustang convertible.  Well.. it had to be done, didn't it?  Its a bit chavvy as its bright white, but the engine sounds fantastic, and with the top down and shades on, all was well with the world.

Let's ride.

Fortunately, my enormous suitcase (which happens to be crammed full of layers and sleeping bags - but more on that in a couple of days) fit into the boot, so that was also a bonus.

I'd arranged to check-in to my accommodation at around 5pm, so i had a little bit of time to drive around and explore a bit (that's a euphemism for "get completely lost").   I didn't rent a GPS system as there are so few roads on the island and they all basically just go round the outside, that it wouldnt be worth it, so I made do with the printed maps.

My first stop was to find somewhere for lunch and - according to those in the know - THE place to go near Kahului, en route to Haiku, was Mama's Fish House.  www.mamasfishhouse.com.  Described in my Lonely Planet guide as "Mama's is where you go when you want to propose or celebrate a big anniversary.  Not only is the seafood as good as it gets, but when the beachside tiki torches are lit at dinnertime, the scene's achingly romantic.  The island-caught fish is so fresh your server tells you who caught it and where!".

Ultimate Locavore

Now, a couple of things.  It was absolutely true that - on the menu - they listed that this fish was caught by bloke called Greg, or that that fish was caught in this little cove by a man single-handedly rowing a dingy while singing sea-shanties and fighting off Moby Dick.  You can't get much more local than that.  And it is also true that the trio of sashimi that I had for my appetizer, each featuring a different type of Hawaiian salt, was probably some of the best I've ever tasted.  It is also true that the views were simply breathtaking - I'd lucked out and been given a table with a completely perfect view of the ocean, sitting by the open window, listening to the crashing waves and the whistling of the wind.

However, had I paid more attention to the first sentence of that description, I would have realized that all of that view (plus a very tasty frozen coconut and lime VIRGIN cocktail) wasn't going to come cheap.  Holy smokes.  At those prices, you'd want to be pretty certain that your intended amour was going to say yes before dropping so much moolah!!

The start of my Maui adventure

Anyway, the view certainly helped chase the sticker shock away and, before long, my trusty rationalization process was in full swing ("well, you deserve it... you've been working so hard..... when are you ever going to be back here again?.... its not just a meal,  its an experience.... oh, f*ck it....") which helped justify the check no end.  It was the perfect way to start my trip to Maui, so i left Mama's feeling very full and content.  Chatting to the waitress, I asked where a good place would be to go watch some surfers and windsurfers catch some, um, waves - fortunately, there was the perfect spot only a mile up the road, so off I headed!

Ridiculously tasty passion fruit creme brûlée

An embarrassment of anthuriums

Not too shabby a view over lunch

Inside Mama's

Mama's beach!

The place was called Ho'okipa Beach Park and is (according, again, to my trusty LP guide) to daredevil windsurfers what Everest is to climbers.  It reigns supreme as the world's premier windsurfing beach, with strong currents, dangerous shore breaks and razor-sharp coral offering the ultimate challenge.  Now, apparently, the surfers and windsurfers have a gentleman's agreement in place - before 11am, surfers reign, after 11am, the windsurfers take over.  Very civilized.  By the time I was there, on a hilltop perch overlooking all the action, with a birds-eye view down in to the bay below, it was around 3pm, so there was only one solitary surfer off to the right of where all the windsurfers were.  

Its bonkers.  I just don't understand surfing and crazy extreme watersports.  It does look very cool and, if surfers had no other purpose on this earth other than to share with us their incredible abs, I could certainly get behind that.  But it is, frankly, a bit nuts and its also a bit like ironing.  (no - not because they both involve boards, but now you come to mention it...).  Its never over.  You do one wave, then you have to turn round and start all over again.  You iron one basket of laundry (allegedly) and just as you think you're done, another one pops up (Loopy - you can stop laughing hysterically now - i do know what an iron looks like).  

Anyway, I stayed for a little while, taking some pics and enjoying the spectacular view from the look out, before then firing up the White Beast and heading off to go find my digs for the night and to see if they are as *ahem* interesting as they appeared to be online.....

Crikey.

HEY!!  BEHIND YOU!!
THERE'S AN ENORMOUS FREAKIN' WAVE!!!  

Lone Surfer Dude

All looking a bit Cornish, really - especially with
 the crazy assed wind!!

If Downton Abbey were to be reincarnated as a ship....
..it probably still wouldn't be half as grand as the Queen Mary must have been in her heyday.   My last tour before heading off to the airport home to SF was suitably entitled "The Glory Days" and was described as "the general historic tour where guests will explore with a tour guide many of the First Class areas of the ship, including the First Class Lounge, Smoking Room, Dining Room and an actual suite".    Funnily enough, as I write this blog from home a few days after getting back from my trip, I happened upon a documentary on telly about Wallis and Edward and there - featuring prominently throughout the original footage - was the Queen Mary.  I recognized the places they were photographed in and had walked the exact same deck just a couple of days before.   Felt kinda cool.

So, to wrap up my little sojourn on the QM, here are a few photo highlights of her glory days - the pics don't do it justice, but maybe they give you just a little taste of what it must have been like (minus the vomit, of course).

Art deco lamp in the Grand Salon

Grand salon where movie stars, politicians, royalty & new
world rich rubbed shoulders and danced the night away,
while Bob Hope compered and Duke Ellington
 thrilled the crowd.... 

http://www.queenmarystory.com/2009/11/take-aboat.html

Gilded in silver and gold, embossed wall mural in the Grand
Salon. The square cut-out shapes are where the film projection
 equipment used to go - the first ever cinema on a ship 

Musical themed adornments in the Grand Salon

Listing the 10's of different types of wood on
the QM - all showcased in the fabulous picture below

Each panel represents one of the different beautiful
woods on the QM

What the art deco Observation Bar looks like
 when its not full of drunken pipers

The soundproof music room where the entertainers
could relax and rehearse

Bedroom in one of the suites on-board

Dressing table in the King George suite

Groovy 3 D mirror sculpture in the 2nd class lounge

The stately & magnificent First Class dining room

Detail of the door at the end of the First Class Dining room -
used exclusively by the captain every night to greet the
assembled guests who rose from their seats as he entered

Glass etching in the lobby on what used to be
the main promenade deck

Ceiling of the First Class dining room -
 which remains the largest room ever built on a ship.  The lighted
panels running down the side are original Lalique glass.

Map detailing the transatlantic route - if you look really closely,
you can see 2 crystal ships marking the passageway

In the bag

And by that, of course, I mean bagpipes.  So here's just one of the many amazing performances I thoroughly enjoyed my first night aboard the QM.  What you can't make out very clearly because it was as much felt as heard, was the incredible deep rumble of the big bass drum.  When that kicked in to the rhythm of the pipes and rat-ta-tat drum, it was sublime.  Its bloody exciting too to listen to - no wonder my Hendricks consumption rate was accelerated! 

As a Brucie Bonus, here's a little snippet of another riff I wish I'd recorded more of - unfortunately, by this time, Pete had got very chatty (and the bar v.noisy!), so that scuppered my ability to capture this kick-ass performance.  Its probably the musical equivalent of Robbie Burns and Bryan Adam's secret love-child.  Fantastic.

Bagpooped....
So i should probably start by translating the title for my US readers.  Don't worry - there is no cause for colonic concern or ileial alarm.  "Pooped" in Brit speak is simply a euphemism for "a little tired" which is, in turn, a British euphemism for "a little hungover" which is, in turn, an inevitable consequence of hanging out with a bunch of bagpipe players the night before.  It could also have been my crazy-assed travel schedule catching up with me, but I know I wouldn't be fooling any of you here.   Ah well, live and (eventually, someday, maybe) learn.

Fortunately, by design, the most arduous thing I had to accomplish today was to meet one of my good mates and die-hard blog fans, Jessica, for lunch and an old-fashioned chin-wag.  (sorry, chaps, for some reason, i'm feeling compelled to write this blog in Brit-speak - I  blame my surroundings...huzzah!).  We were meeting around 11.30am, so I had the luxury of sleeping in and spending a lazy morning enjoying the luxury of my walnut-paneled cabin, playing with the shower fixtures and trying to decide which of the many tours on offer on the QM to go on.  I finally decided on the Twilight Mystery tour in the evening, then the Glory Days tour the next day, before heading to the airport for my evening flight home.

More tea, vicar?

At 11.30am, Jessica texted me to say she'd arrived, so me and my still somewhat sore-headed head headed down to the entry gate to go meet her (they wouldn't let her up on her own without a guest to accompany her - guess that's to stop folk wandering in for a free tour).   Jessica had also had a euphemistically fun evening too, so there was nothing else left for 2 slightly hungover Brit girls to do than to go for lashings of tea and finger sandwiches and cake!  (no - not sandwiches made out of fingers, you crazy people).

So, off to the very helpfully-named "The Tea Room" we went, where we spent a very pleasant couple of hours catching up, with Jessica telling me the latest and greatest with what she's up to in showbiz.  (you can follow her here on Twitter: https://twitter.com/jessicaclark - any True Blood fans will definitely recognize her...).   We had a vicarage-sized amount of tea, ably assisted by hair of the dog, as well as some kick-ass scones, jam and clotted cream.  By the time the cakes arrived, we were both too stuffed and so took them "to go" (not sure you'd be allowed to do that at the Ritz, btw) for a little light afternoon sugar-fest later on.  After a couple hours, Jessica had to scoot, so I retired to my room to catch-up on my blog (I'd been thoroughly chastised by Jessica for having let it lapse so terribly over the last 6 weeks, so it was time for immediate reparation!), have a quick snooze before then joining my Twilight Mysteries tour at 6pm.

As with the USS Hornet, the Queen Mary has a number of ghost stories and spooky happenings associated with it (although not quite with the same intensity as the Hornet - that is supposed to be one of the most haunted ships there is), so I figured why not?  It was a good way to get my bearings, see some areas of the ship that were otherwise off-limits and, who knows, I might just meet Casper.

Alas, Casper didn't show, but I did get to see a lot of cool stuff.  The haunting stories themselves weren't quite as exciting as the Hornet - lots of sightings of ladies in fine dresses sitting having drinks one minute, gone the next; sounds of children laughing behind locked doors of rooms that had long lain empty and the tale of one poor seaman (steady) who had played a game of chicken with a heavy steel-door that was being automatically racheted closed in response to some heavy seas - and lost.  #splat #wontdothatagain.

Door + cocky seaman + bravado + automatic closing
mechanism =  big squishy mess for someone to clean up

Fake original mother-of-pearl ceiling

The swimming pool for the 1st class passengers was very cool - absolutely beautiful Art Deco design and the ceiling, now in iridescent tiling, was originally decked out in mother-of-pearl which had shimmered and gleamed and twinkled like stars in the night sky.  Alas, when the QM was converted into The Grey Ghost to support the war effort, the 500 soldiers or so who then slept in 5 person-high bunks in the drained (obviously) swimming pool picked chunks out of the ceiling with their bayonets as souvenirs or to use as gaming chips.

According to our relatively unenthusiastic guide, the Bunk of Choice was the top bunk during these tough war years - but not, perhaps for the reasons you'd expect (i.e. its just..um...more fun on top.. and you don't crack your head on the bunk above you if you wake up late at night in a Patagonian youth hostel and need the loo and forget temporarily where you are and that you're in a bunk bed in a room with 10 other complete strangers).  No - nothing quite that obvious.

Spooky - and very impressive swimming pool

Apparently the reason why that Top Bunk choice (hmm..I think i've just come up with a new Bravo reality show concept...) was the coveted spot was that that was the ONLY place on the ship you could be certain you would not get covered in vomit - either from your bunkmates above or the copious quantities that would collect and sloosh about the bottom of the pool.  True.  The Queen Mary was infamous for "rolling" - at first, before stabilizers were retro-fitted which helped a bit, she could list up to 44 degrees from the vertical in heavy seas.  Yeah, right, you say - that doesn't sound much - until you then learn that it only takes a tilt of TWO degrees from vertical to induce seasickness!!  Even with the stabilizers, she still could roll up to 12 degrees - which was why, when it was an ocean-going liner, you didn't see much carpet at all, but instead all tiles and linoleum - much easier to clean the vomit up from.

Grumpy lady with scrubbing brush not included

The other interesting tidbit about the swimming pool was that - though it was for 1st class passengers - the ship did, in fact, allow the 3rd class passengers to use it too (the 2nd class folk had their own pool) between the hours of 3pm - 5pm each day.  This is when all civilized folk would be taking afternoon tea (some things never change!).  Before you get too excited about how "progressive" the QM was, before opening it back up to the 1st class folk, the entire pool would be drained, cleaned and then re-filled with fresh heated seawater, so that the delicate sensibilities of the elite glitterati would not be challenged by having to swim in the same water as the stinky proletariat.  You could also get a variety of spa treatments at the pool too - including X-rays, back in the time when it was thought that a good blast of electromagnetic radiation was actually good for you.  Here are some of the other highlights of the tour:

Groovy art-deco columns in the Mauritania room

One of the original art-deco elevators in the 1st class section

Interesting idea, but not to be recommended.
Traffic would be a nightmare.

Mumsie - this one is for you - thought about pinching
 one of those chests but it wouldn't fit in my hand luggage...

Handy for wrapping those oddly-shaped
industrial gifts, I suppose

One of the original propellers, still attached.  

My own private deck.

View from the dock - what a beauty!

Hanging out with the rellys - gawd bless ya, ma'am

The first ever travel agency aboard a ship

So, with that, it was time to grab some dinner (a considerably quieter affair than the previous evening, thank goodness) and retire to my quarters to check the day's stash of photographs and to get cracking writing.  Tomorrow, it was time to head back to SF and back home...

 From Queen Mumsie to the Queen Mary....

I always hate this bit.

Today was the day to take Mumsie to the airport and send her off on her long journey back to Northern Cyprus.  3 months seems to have gone by in a flash, especially the last month where I've been back and forward between NYC and SF so much.  I counted the number of flights I've done since the start of the year - FIFTEEN since Jan 2nd!!  Completely bonkers.  Last week marked the end of a particularly heroic spate of commuting (I flew across the country and back in time, four years - more on that in another post), so I decided to make the most of going to LA and tack on an extra couple of days in Long Beach.

Earlier on in the day, Mumsie and I had stuffed my Equinox full of her cargo...umm... I mean, luggage and headed off to SFO, for our flight to LAX.  Fortunately all the crazy travel and my 1K status with United had paid off with a free upgrade to First class on the short flight.  More importantly, it also meant a free baggage allowance of up to 3 bags of 70lb per person, so at least Mumsie didn't have to pay extra on this leg of the trip (with Turkish airlines, even in business class, you only get 2 bags - each extra bag is an additional $150 each - a total of $300 in excess baggage fees - ouch!).  The flight from SFO to LAX was very smooth (unlike my last flight back from NYC which was a white-knuckler for about 15 mins because of baaaaad turbulence - AND STILL PEOPLE WERE GETTING UP FROM THEIR SEAT TO GO TO THE LOO!!  WTF?!!!).    Mumsie also had invested in a couple of new suitcases (yey for Costco!) that actually wheeled properly (unlike one of her old ones that had it out for me and used to try and take chunks out of my ankles at regular intervals), so it was easy peasy to get the  cases onto a trolley and head out to the transfer bus to the international terminal.  This is usually the Most Stressful Part of the whole procedure - getting the bags off the luggage cart, loaded onto the racks in the transfer bus, then doing the opposite upon arriving at the International Terminal.  The bags are heavy, there's always too many people and not enough space, it feels like it takes ages and people are impatient to get going, no-one helps you and its just generally rushed and pissy.  This time, however, we had a savior - the bus driver was actually helpful and helped us on and off the bus with our bags.  Easy.  Just like that.  Plus there was a luggage cart sitting waiting, so i didnt have to go wrestle with the SmartCart machine for once ($5 for a cart at LAX - and you're never quite sure if its actually going to give it to you - i'm sure that thing is sentient and deliberately f*cks with your head).

Anyway, most stressful part over and all we had to do was get Mumsie checked in at Turkish Airlines and she'd be on her way.  Being the hyper-cautious, Don't Miss This Connection or It'll Be a Nightmare travelers that we are, we had arrived ridiculously early - so much so that the counter wasn't even open yet.  But time is very easily spent in an airport, having coffee, reading, doing a little shopping... so much so that you have to actually remind yourself why you are there in the first place!   So, after a couple of hours, it was time to check-in, so that was all fine - i wasn't picking up my rental car til 4pm, so we had time to get lunch before then all that was left to do was to sadly walk back downstairs, over to the departure gate, give Mumsie a HUGE hug and wave her off through the security checkpoint.  As always, its a really sad moment, but one that is inevitable and necessary so we don't draw it out but say our goodbyes and get on our way.

And for me, as a reward for surviving my crazy-assed schedule since the New Year (and to provide all you blog-starved folk with some well overdue blog fodder (blodder?)), I had a date with the Queen to keep.  Now, I can't remember where I'd seen this advertised but a while ago I'd found out about the Queen Mary Hotel, moored up in Long Beach, and so added it to my mental rolodex of Cool Stuff to Do and Blog About.   Here's the link to their website:  http://queenmary.com/stay-aboard/deluxe-stateroom.php.   Completely brilliant.  And, when i'd logged on to check out prices, I was pleasantly surprised how affordable it was, so i went for a Deluxe King Stateroom, facing out across the bay, looking over to the lights of Long Beach.  Two nights, to take advantage of the holiday weekend, before then heading home on Tuesday, to reacquaint myself with all my household appliances and stare at my kettle wondering why it hasn't boiled yet.  ("Oh.  You mean I have to turn it on now?  I used to have people for that...." *sighs wistfully* *wonders why is talking to cat*)

Obviously, because of my ghostly adventure with Lori aboard the USS Hornet, I was already somewhat of a nautical know-it-all, so i was looking forward to exploring the ship and staying in slightly more luxurious surroundings this time.  It was only a short drive from LAX to Long Beach in my bright blue Dodge muscle car (YEAH!) so, before I knew it, I was pulling up to the ship.

Holy cow.  What an impressive sight.

She may be an old Queen (there's a tasteless joke in there somewhere) but she is still absolutely beautiful.   And ENORMOUS!   I'd arrived just after 5pm, so the light was starting to fade a bit and, as the sun went down, all the lights on the ship came up, so she was truly stunning, lit up and festooned in red and white lights, all along the length of the deck.  I (eventually) found the entrance and took the lift up to the 3rd floor to check-in - I had stumbled onto the tail-end of ScotsFest - a 2 day festival of all things Scottish, including bagpipes, Highland Games and food (more on that later), and so it was absolutely heaving!  So it took a while to check in but I didnt mind - it was fun to be there and soak in all the details of the ship, and to imagine what it looked like back in the 30's when it was the only civilized way to travel.  It was faded in its elegance and a little worn around the edges, but it didn't take much imagination to picture the passengers from years past, when people still dressed up to travel and it was absolutely still a luxury, rather than simply a means of getting from A to B as quickly as possible.

Scalloped art-deco glass light fitting in my room

I finally got my keys - stateroom 157 on Deck A, which was about halfway down the very long corridor.  It was just as you'd imagine it to be - beautiful Art Deco styling, gorgeously polished wood, richly colored crazy patterned carpet - and just a little bit spooky.  As it has that faded glamor about it, it makes you feel nostalgic, curious, patriotic, sad and a bit weirded out all at once.  An interesting mix.  It was less spooky than the Hornet, but i was half expecting to see a kid on a trike turn the corner at any moment.  Imagine the mind-tricks you could play on people with that.  Note to self: never stay at old places with long corridors on April Fools Day....  Anyway, I finally found my room (and already changed from my heels to my flats) - it was smaller than I was expecting, but it was still absolutely charming and full of interesting period details.  And - the best bit of all - it had portholes that actually opened!!  Bloody brilliant.  That, more than anything, took you in your mind to the Atlantic and to imagining what it must have been like to look through those windows and see nothing but the Atlantic Ocean, as far as the eye could see.  It reminded me a bit of the feeling from when I went to Patagonia - a similar sense of all-surrounding desolation and vastness.

Corridor just begging for a small kid on a trike....

And another set of deco-tastic lights!

Fancy-pants embroidered shower curtain

Hot AND Fresh?  Now, that's my kinda shower....

Evening stroll along the deck

After checking out my room, I decided to wander round the ship for a bit to start to get my bearings and to visit the bar for a gin and tonic.  My selection of venue was a bit hit and miss - basically, wherever I could manage to find (this place is big) that wasnt completely ram-packed because of ScotFest.  I ended up having a drink first in the Chelsea Chowder House before then deciding to brave the apparent chaos of the Observation Bar, the original Art Deco Lounge.

That's when things started getting interesting.

Bagpipes smackdown in the OB

It started off, as all these things generally tend to do, quietly enough - despite the bar being really busy, i'd lucked out as there was a table and couple of chairs free, right near the bar, so i decided to perch for a while and soak up the atmosphere for a bit.  What i didnt realize, but quickly became apparent, was that i'd unwittingly walked into a bagpipe-playing contest!  The tail-end of Scotsfest was obviously wrapping up in the Observation Bar, with many chaps (and one girl) in kilts taking turns to play the heart out of their little fingers and lungs, and rock the house with some kicking pipes and drum tunes!  It was absolutely fantastic!!  And i had a ringside seat!  I didn't stay solo at my table for long - I had also happened to sit amongst a big gang of pipers and so i sort of got absorbed into their crowd!  They were a blast - really friendly and funny, especially my new best chum, a chap called Pete.  He was hilarious - a Brit who flies out to play with the LA Pipes (apparently one of the top ten pipe bands in the world) but who works at Canon for the day job.  So it was fun to hang out with him and his friends, and listen to some kick-ass music.  I especially loved the big bass drum - wow.  When that things is going, it resonates deep within you - its very cool indeed.

"....And i still haven't found the lyrics that i'm looking for..."

A few *ahem* gin and tonics later, and i was singing along to some of the songs the main guy was playing (as well as an accomplished piper, he was also a great singer and played a mean guitar), so my new best friends took it upon themselves to suggest to the  main guy i should come up and sing with him.  I'd told them that i could sing Moondance (my go-to song of choice) so assumed, when the guy called me up, that he knew it too.   But no.  He knew the song but couldn't play it, so instead said to me "what do you want to sing instead?".   While on stage with everyone looking at us.  And the only bloody thing that I could think of was U2's "Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For".  Which I don't know how to sing and don't even know all the words too.  But i know how the chorus goes so offered to harmonize that and - in the end - I don't think it was too terrible and the shambolic nature of our musical offering seemed to be in keeping with the general disassembly of the evening, so i dont think anyone particularly minded.  By that point, I think most people were so shit-faced, I dont think anyone would have actually noticed if it had been Bono himself onstage.

My new mate, Pete

So that was fun.

And, as i went back to take my seat, thoughts of me dressed in a reindeer suit singing with the choir at Macy's in the Holiday Village crossed my mind and i wondered how i keep getting myself into these situations...  After a while longer, it was midnight, so it was time to bid my new Scottish buddies farewell, and try and find my way back to my cabin.  It took a couple of attempts (it wasnt just the Hendricks - it is VERY easy to get lost!  Mumsie - you'd be freaking out!) but I made it and gratefully flopped into bed.  A very fun evening - all the more so for being completely unexpected!!

"I would like... World Peace"
"And another Hendricks and tonic, please"