On October 4, I will board the Carnival Dream to host the first of many Carnival Journeys voyages which are selling very well, I am happy to say. For those of you who are not aware of what “Carnival Journeys” cruises are all about, let me quickly tell you. They are longer-length voyages that will feature special entertainment both local to the ports of call and entertainment designed by Carnival. These cruises will also have lots of features such as interaction with the captain and department heads, local cuisine and, of course, the much anticipated flashback to 1987 day, of which I shall speak more of in a moment. (more…)
We start today with this comment:
I have always felt that after tip night, we were treated like second class citizens and made to feel like you no longer matter and the way you are pushed off the ship by the endless announcements is degrading to me. My cabin steward could not wait to get us off the ship. He knocked on our door TWICE!!
Thanks, Robert, and although I absolutely disagree with your suggestion that service from our brilliant crew diminishes on the last night, I can sort of understand what you mean by the announcements and the whole debarkation process…………..oh, by the way, the gratuities you so graciously leave our crew via your Sail & Sign card are not paid on the last night of the cruise but collected by the crew two days after the cruise is over.
So next week, I will be back in the office, meeting my new assistant and meeting many, many beards. I am very lucky that, in my role as brand ambassador for Carnival Cruise Line, I am afforded health insurance through the company and for that I am very grateful although I hope that I will never need it. My only experience of American hospitals was when I was a cruise director and Heidi and I rented a villa in Orlando and she trapped her finger in the sliding doors that led out to the pool.After I had called her a clumsy bastard, I noticed that her finger looked like Tom’s after Jerry had given him the good news by dropping an iron on it. And so we went off to see if George Clooney was working at the Orlando ER. Heidi was denied treatment at the hospital because the receptionist’s computer refused to acknowledge that the United Kingdom existed. Even though I had a wad of cash and a wallet full of credit cards, she was prepared to let Heidi’s finger explode all over her desk because her stupid sodding software only recognised addresses in the United States.
I am going to start today’s blog by opening a huge can of “Whoop John’s Flaccid Arse” because I am going to once again and for the 708,757,877 time …… talk about elegant night again. I know this subject may bore some people and I know that the CC artist formally known as H82SEAUGO now rejuvenated as SeeBurd will enjoy sticking his tiny, miniscule sized pin in my voodoo doll again but here I go anyway. I also have to mention that this is my opinion, not Carnival Cruise Line (noticed we have now officially dropped the S so now it is just Line) and, in this case, I am speaking for me, the chubby Brit cruise director with a bent tooth and hemorrhoids the size of a baby yak. You see, on my Facebook page these past weeks, I have read lots of comments about elegant night and the changes that have been made.
As you know, I have just returned from the Carnival Paradise and I have to say it was so good to be on a Fantasy-class ship again. I was part of the delivery teams for Carnival Ecstasy, Carnival Sensation and Carnival Imagination so I have special feelings for this class of ship. I was also lucky enough to stay on in a guest cabin. On Carnival Paradise, I was in an ocean view cabin on Riviera Deck and was a big, spacious cabin for sure. I’ve been traveling a lot recently and I’m always quite surprised by the amount of noise some guests in make when they are walking down the corridors both in a hotel and yes, even on our ships.
I met a hero yesterday here on the Carnival Paradise. His name is Alan and he is 12 years old.
It was a meeting by chance after the show last night with his parents, Sally and Anthony, and their eight-year-old daughter, Megan. They came to see me having recognised me from previous cruises. During our conversation I learnt about Alan and what he had done to earn the title I just gave him of “hero.”
July 7, 2015 -
John Heald -
I have never been able to understand anyone of the male species who purchases something for practical reasons. I imagine him to have far too much time on his hands and most likely he is wearing a pair of sandals. How can they spend an entire morning reading online reviews of washing machines? But even worse, who the sodding heck can be bothered to write an online review of a washing machine? They’re all the same. They’re white and boxy and after they’ve finished making your underpants clean, they beep, telling your wife it’s time to empty it and put it in the other white boxy thing next to it that dries the underpants so they are ready to wear for another week or two.
That great English tradition has started – no, I’m not talking about the weather. I am, of course, talking about Wimbledon, arguably the top tennis tournament in the world. Are you excited? Some of you are and many definitely are not because, for some, tennis is about as exciting as reading 50 Shades of Grey with all the rumpy pumpy bits taken out. Wimbledon takes it to a whole new level. Hundreds of elderly English people with their sunburn and their emergency wet weather gear sit there eating their cucumber sandwiches and applaud absolutely everything.
I know this is supposed to be a cruise-related blog and for people clicking on this page for the first time, I welcome you and assure you cruise-related business is the normal conversation here and I will return to it a bit later in this episode.
However, I hope you will excuse me if I put into words something that has been on my mind these past couple of days. The subject is my dad, a subject that I think about every day, more so this past Sunday which, of course, was Father’s Day. For those who may have just joined me, let me mention my dad passed away a year and half ago leaving his bride of 54 years, me, my sister and three grandchildren missing him more than I have the ability to describe. This past Sunday, I had to go into his office/study, something I have purposely avoided as much as I could over the past months, unless requested by mum, to fiddle and check on an insurance file or some banking in one of the files he kept so meticulously.
If you had been reading my Facebook page the other day, you might remember someone writing to me and suggesting that, when people are late coming back to the ship in Cozumel that the staff should walk down the pier and check the bars to see if we could spot someone enjoying a bucket of margaritas, oblivious to the fact that big white thing is sailing away without them and their clean underwear.