There's No Cure Like Travel

For the moment, enough to say that it was wonderful.  We strode the decks, we tea-danced in a very sedate sort of way, we descended the grand staircase with aplomb, we rode out foggy days in the very posh spa, and most of all, we ate, drank, and laughed.  I shall have to think of some amusing and insightful things to say about crossing on the Queen, but at the moment, I'm still a little blissed out.

Now it's a couple of days shore leave, as it were, in Olde Manhattan, a quick revisiting of old haunts and older acquaintances, before we motor up the coast for the next stage of our little jaunt.

So if any Gentle Readers spy a pair of stout parties of a certain age swaying up Eighth Avenue, please be very clear that it's just that we've not yet lost our sea-legs and has nothing to do with a vodka tonic or three...