Kevin Myers: Cruise Diary: Day One. My, but SS Aurora is a truly beautiful ship, its lines long and slender. Madge - the good lady wife - rushed into our de luxe cabin (though it's so posh it's like our lounge at home) with the brilliant news that we can choose our own piped music!
We go through the brochure - Engelbert Humperdink, Shirley Bassey, Tom O'Connor: only recordings from the very best of performers on the Aurora!!! I said to Madge, I said: "It's what I always say, Madge, you only get what you pay for, isn't that right, Madge?" Madge uttered a little scream. "Oh look! They've got Ken Dodd too."
Cruise Diary: Day Two. Madge had a bad night, and preferred to spend the morning in bed, with a perpetual looped selection of Cilla Black and Max Bygraves on the sound system. It's like I always say: you can't beat class.
On deck, I met Keith Chegwin, our entertainments officer. What a marvellous sense of humour he has! We were discussing Coronation Street - oh, I never miss Coronation Street - and he said he remembered the street when it was nowt but a bomb-site. Laugh? I nearly died. Keith then went pale, and turning, sprinted below decks.
Went back to the cabin, but no sign of Madge. "I'm in here!" came the muffled words from our de luxe, en-suite toilet, followed by the sound of a fire-hose being directed into a swimming pool.
"Are you all right, Madge?" I cried. "Go away," she said.
Cruise Diary: Day Three. Madge still unwell. I was asked to the captain's table for lunch. Delightful - prawn cocktail, chicken salad, and Black Forest gateau, washed down by a delicious Mateus Rosé. Just as I was ordering coffee, the skipper rose with a strange, preoccupied look on his face and, muttering something or other, began to move rather fast towards the men's room, ending in a powerful sprint. Good to see our Jack Tars keeping fit. Then I chatted with the blonde lady next to me - Sharon, a large lass who runs a hairdresser's business in Blackpool. Half-way through the coffee she rose suddenly as if an assegai had just been run through her chair, then made for the door like a walrus gambolling after the last bus home. Neither the captain nor Sharon returned for the rest of the meal. I wonder why.
Cruise Diary. Day Four. Madge still no better, preferring to spend her day in the bathroom. Throughout the cabin, I could hear noises like those huge geysers bubbling and splattering that we came across during that tour of Iceland on the Canberra. "Madge," I said, "Madge? Can you hear those funny noises, Madge?" There was a long flatulent eruption.
"There! Did you hear that?"
"Go away," said a thin voice within. Then I twigged: the strange noises must be a fault in the sound system, so I decided to have a word with the purser. But first a swim. Got into my togs. The pool quite was full when I arrived. I slipped into the water, and began to do some lengths. In no time at all, I noticed everyone was swimming hurriedly for the steps. Indeed, there was quite a rush up them! Young people today; no sense of relaxation. All heading off to the disco, I dare say.
Cruise Dairy: Day Five. Madge no better. No sign of the captain, or Sharon, or Keith, the so-called entertainments officer. Over breakfast, I spoke to the purser about the faults in the sound system. He became distracted while we talked, clearly upset by such failures in his beloved ship. He hurriedly rose, and left at speed, no doubt intent on sorting out the problem in my cabin. A decent lad, and no mistake. I went over to speak to the Misses Arbuthnot from Auchtermuchty, charming Scottish ladies.
After just a few minutes, one declared with a certain urgency in her voice: "Felicity, I believe it is time to return to our cabin." Her sister gasped: "Marigold, I think you're right." In a trice, the two sisters - who will never see 70 again - were haring across the dining-room; and I believe Marigold would have reached the door first had not Felicity beheaded her with a platter of smoked finnan haddock. In a single bound, she bestrode her sister's prostrate body like Edwin Moses, then hurtled cabinwards without a second glance, discarding garments as she vanished.
"Madge," I said, back in our cabin. "There's something odd about this ship."
"Go away," she replied from the bathroom.
"There!" I said. "That noise! Did you hear it that time?"
The din in the sound system was intolerable so, deciding to find the purser again, I chanced upon a fraught-looking nurse outside the medical centre. I told her who I was looking for. "You've found him," she said, indicating with her thumb. From within, there came the sound of a large balloon spluttering around a room. He was partying! Little wonder people no longer put Great and Britain together.
The nurse's eyes suddenly glazed over. "Excuse me," she mumbled, and fled.
Cruise Diary: Day Six. Docked at New York. Everyone was so unwell that they were confined aboard by the US authorities. Except me. You know, it's strange how empty New York can suddenly become.