28th January Dressed to kill

Another sea day, one in which we are not as I had thought simply meandering in a variety of zigzags and circles back to another' port in the Dominican Republic but instead heading some 400 plus miles south east to the island of Dominica, which incidentally we sailed by last time we were out in the Caribbean on Britannia. 

Sea day is a chance to make best use of some of the ships on board facilties or in our case just sit on the pool deck, reading and people watching. And my oh my, are there some shapes and sizes to watch, including the prime example of what happens when the classic 'Dad Bod' undergoes a genetic mutation and becomes the not in the least bit body positive shape of the 'Cruise Bod ' Something I hope it will never mutate into.

And here on Marella Discovery there are some magnificent specimens waddling around, using their outstretched heavily tattooed arms like stabilisers trying to counteract the weight of their lobster red bellies hanging over the top of their shorts more than an exceedingly we'll risen Mary Berry soufflé. 

Today we spent another 90 mins walking round a port location where there is nothing to see apart from that stately home that we have seen in several of these stops the not very impressive Fuck Hall.

It was also the 2nd 'dress to impress' night or judging by what some people chose to wear perhaps it should be renamed 'dress to distress', judging by what some of the new arrivals were wearing. I can only assume (and hope) that their luggage had yet to arrove. Now if I ruled the waves there would be no t shirts, polo shirts, shorts or trainers allowed on such nights. 

Surely if people have paid at least two grand for two weeks on board they could, even if they didn't already own them, to nip down to their local charity shop and find a pair of proper shoes, a long sleeved shirt and a pair of decent pants. Rant over...for the moment.