LIKE YOU NEVER LEFT. SHAME

Those people with tousled hair

Who wear their collars standing up

"Roguishly"

Who marry young matriarchs

Who never grow up

Who rule us

Who rule us by right

When we make claims on the power of history

We the plebs

We forget what that power can really mean

How the relationships click back into place at the crack of certain whips

Like they have never been away.

Meals are many and large. When I arrive for lunch, summoned by Ivan, the Chief Steward, at 11.30 am -

(my watch today has wandered back and forth as I cross time zones; I rose on French time but will sleep on British time,an unsatisfactory arrangement, believe you me. It's not as if my own time zones are easily crossed) -

there are two lost-looking men at the table in the Officers' Mess: my fellow passengers.

I assumed them deep in conversation, but no - Peter speaks German but no English, Tom the opposite. Translation here is down to me - the definition of 'counsel of despair'

The taxi driver had told me that the crew is Ukrainian, Latvians, Lithuanians, Russians. These peoples have replaced the Indians and Filipinos - where did they go?

The ship is a Russian-speaking zone when I had assumed we would speak French. Why? I can say ‘Da’, ‘Niet’ and 'Dos vidanya.'

After my nightmares on the Club Class carpet, if it wasn't for the expectations of others, the unrefundable expenditure, I would walk back to the Gare Maritime and joyfully buy a ticket home to my family, who have simpler, though frequently disappointed, expectations of me.

My cabin is pleasant, with a view to starboard, though that view was dominated for most of today by Norfolk Line containers - I feel far from Norfolk , but just think how they must feel.

The day-long loading finished at 6 by some o'clock and we launch out - the Channel, now the Atlantic.

I feel alone and the option of withdrawal is now withdrawn.

Terminally.

PRIDE OF LE HAVRE, LE HAVRE

A whole ship in cycle shorts

Willy-nilly in lycra

What must they think of us?

What on earth can they think of us?

tH

THE BAR, PRIDE OF LE HAVRE , 0.00 BST

The effect of this number of people is to make you feel alone

The promise is of dividing like sub-atomic particles

Into their millions of European orbits

But I must travel further than ever,

Further than anyone.

Outside on deck in the enveloping world of landlubber lights

I remembered how irrational homesickness can be

Subtracting pleasure from any situation

Replacing it with a madness to return

Anywhere, any situation can reclaim you this way

You think it has gone with childhood but it is there

Primeval

Antediluvian

Driving us back to our tribe.

 

In the morning I join Segovia Carrier

Where I will find my new family.

HUZZAH! HUZZAH! QUEEN, EMPIRE, BOAT RACE

They wear slogans on their backs

"the 4 (now 5) tops on tour"

"cheery boys on tour"

rugby shirts

they are a different world

Victorian rowdies

moustaches and tasselled caps

Guards officers out for huzzah

What has happened to England ?

when did they restore

their rampancy?

I meet the Captain, a pleasant man.

A captain: the projections of the needs and expectations of others. Respect is their therapy and I am pleased to give it.

After a long wait for my baggage I call the shipping agent and they send a taxi at my own expense. The driver talks in friendliness of his imminent Triumph motorcycle and then makes me pay for it.

But he brings me up the gangplank and conveys me to the deck officer. I'm shown to my cabin and left very much alone.

Arrival in Le Havre unnecessarily asleep on the floor of Club Class.

£7 for a 'full English breakfast' and a pot of tea - seven pounds for bacon like tongues, a lonely sausage, a dead egg.

Then arrival: two French police march a tiny black man down the gangway. Is he arrested, or just victimised? I film but can't think of any way to help.

He ignores them.

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FRIDAY 8TH OCTOBER: LE HAVRE

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