Join us for a ten-day cruise on the Oceania Sirena cruise ship, sailing from Valletta in Malta and ending at Barcelona, after splashing our way around the Western Mediterranean Sea. And it's another chance for us to catch up with entertainer friends Tomas and Maris!
Each day is shown on its own separate entry, reached by clicking/tapping the seven photos below. A link on each page will bring you back here.
Tuesday 29 September 2026. We are close to the end of our cruise. This really is our last day, as tomorrow we will be in Barcelona but will be getting off the ship early morning to go to the airport to come home.
But today we are in Majorca or Mallorca to give it its local name. We have boarded and disembarked from ships so many times here, but today we are moored quite a way from the marina. Nevertheless we decide it's our last day so we are going to get off the ship and walk along the coastal path.
I'm not fast at walking these days, but I reckon we've walked for a good hour without the scenery changing very much at all. We did reach the marina and the King of Spain's yacht is moored in its usual spot, but we are never going to reach the basilica at this rate and already we are facing another hour's walk back to the ship.
By the time we are close to the ship we are both in sore need of a drink. Luckily there were a few benches where I allowed myself a few minutes rest but now we spy a cafe-cum-gift-shop across the road. It's a crew cafe but they don't turn custom away and we sink gratefully into a seat that isn't bare metal and treat the old tonsils to a gush of ice cold liquid...
Hang on... I know that voice... We are sitting behind a potted hedge plant but vaguely I can see Tomas in the shop. We wait for him to come out but he escapes from a different doorway and we miss him!
Back on the ship at the door knob wall, as we have dubbed it. Miss Franny keeps joking she wants one as a souvenir and in places it does look as though someone has had a go at detaching one or two with varying degrees of success. I manage to dissuade her though...
The afternoon is spent throwing clothes into suitcases and making sure we haven't missed anything (though what happened to that shoe horn I've no idea...)
We head for the dining room for one last time and I took this one later as we crossed for the last time from the rear of the ship (the round end) to the Horizons Bar at the front (the pointy end). The island of Majorca is receding in the distance and we are now heading for our final port of call, Barcelona.
A lot of hugs and a few tears as we say farewell to Tom and Maris until another cruise brings us out to their ship. This has been a fabulous cruise with great people. So many passengers willing to chat, a fabulous crew too, for whom nothing was too much trouble
Cases have to be outside the cabins by 02:00am at the latest. We remembered to leave ourselves some clothes to wear tomorrow... Hey - it happens!
Morning. As we leave the customs house in Barcelona we are called. It's an American couple we met on our first day. We haven't seen them since but they remember us and made a big thing about first day/last day meetings which was quite fun.
Also outside the customs house was a demonstration. I'm not sure what it was about but the participants were mostly student age and all of a sudden we jumped as some sort of large firework or small explosive went off with a huge bang and cloud of smoke followed a couple of minutes after by sirens and the arrival of police cars... We got on our coach for the airport and left them to get on with it.
Monday, 28 September 2026. We continue our cruise with a visit to Port Vendres, France. It's a new port for us but a bit of a dull day as yet!
We pass through customs and turn towards the town, finding ourselves walking along the inevitable marina. It's still a couple of hours off lunchtime but the place seems eerily deserted.
The only people about are our fellow passengers and the quiet of the place seems even to have affected them. One or two greet us in subdued voices. You would think it a Sunday rather than a weekday.
There's a row of parked cars along the dockside. Presumably somebody has been up early and gone out for a day's fishing.
The map we were given shows that there is still quite a way to go in front of us to round the corner where there is a park at the end of the bay and a church on the opposite bank.
The dockside path runs out and we have a choice of walking back and retracing our steps but on the higher level where the road and shps are, or climbing the staircase against the tall wall that supports the town and stops it falling into the bay.
I take a deep breath and we take the steps up the wall. "Oh, well done!" says Miss Franny as I reach the top. I don't answer... I'm too busy dealing with screaming back muscles and the invisible men who keep plunging needles into me... We take a moment.
We are now around the corner and the church is visible and thw trees on the left are the edge of the park. It contains a few statues and memorials to President Charles de Gaulle.
The park was as far as we walked. We came back along the row of shops on the upper level but failed to find an open cafe. Then by the time we arrived back near the customs house, the sun had decided to come out at last and altered the mood of the place.
After some lunch we made our way to Baristas again and I started this, cursing myself several times that I would start something so complicated and it would be the following day before I managed to finsh it!
Sunday 27 September 2026. Today we awaken in the French port of Marseilles. We are booked on a half-day excursion to a lovely old seaside town called Cassis.
Getting there though turns into something of a will we - won't we, as there has been a bicycle race on the narrow roads surrounding the hills above the town and there has been a bad accident that has closed the road, leading to some long queues and delays. We eventually reach the coach park - there is no way a coach could get down into the village.
So we hop onto a road train and ride down to the lowest spot we can get before we have to take to foot, emerging down the steps shown here to the right of the pink building.
First priority is a drink. Luckily there are plenty of cafes open despite it being Sunday. After the steps I need to catch my breath before trotting off anywhere.
The marina is full of rather more modest yachts than Portofino, but sadly still out of range of my pocket... In fact about the only boat within range of my pocket would be an inflatable and I've watched too many programmes about lifeboats to fall for that option!
We have a slow wander up into the town centre, where a market displays a mixture of goods and crafts to tempt the traveller and Miss Franny disappears into the same biscuit shop we visited on our last visit here in 2007. We came out loaded with several bags of biscuits...
We had time to walk slowly around the marina. It's warm and already I'm wanting another drink! We settle for a tub of ice cream each as an alternative.
Then we take a seat near to the meeting place for the walk back up to the road train. I knew that I would never manage to keep up with the rest of the people in our party so I had a word with the guide and we set off up the hill. We got to the road train stop just as he arrived with another train load of passengers and soon the rest of our party was seen coming up the hill.
Back onboard the ship in Marseilles with the church of Notre-Dame de la Garde High on the hill la Garde for which it is named, it can be reached by yet another of those little road trains. It has an all-round 360 degree view of the city and from it, with a good pair of binolculars, you'd be able to spot us ignoring it for the more pressing needs of lunchtime...
It's still Saturday, 26 September 2026. But it is a bit later in the day. We have been - if you have been following this holiday blog (if not, why not?) - to Villefranche on the French Riviera during the day but are now at sea and heading for Marseilles which is our port for tomorrow. Tonight we have booked a meal in one of the speciality restaurants onboard Oceania Sirena.
There are two such restaurants on the Sirena and this is the Tuscan Steak restaurant. We were wondering what the meal would be like. We were, I have to say, less than impressed with the steaks on the NCL ship we last cruised on, but no such worries tonight as the meal was excellent.
They have not skimped on the plateware and cutlery either. Cutlery for the main meal arrives with the meal.
Miss Franny had a bottle of Prosecco set aside and I tried a glass of non-alcoholic Merlot, though as I feared it was a not so much full-bodied as one leg and half an arm... At least it wasn't quite the paint stripper that I was dreading! Come on cruise lines, get some decent non-alcoholic beers in stock, not those wind-inducing lagers...
But, the meal itself couldn't be faulted, the dessert menu required serious thought and scoring as to pros and cons. Though the creme brulee quickly won the process and was generous in portion and delicious in taste and texture when it arrived.
Then it was across the top of the ship once again to Horizons bar where we were joined for a short while by Tom and Maris until it was time for them to go on stage. There was quite a party in there but no one on the dance floor so I managed to persuade Miss Franny up for a dance - well, more a lean on stick and sway a bit really, but it gained me a round of applause for the effort and Maris grabbed her phone to immortalise the moment.
Then they came to sit with us as one set finished and they relaxed before the next. This sometimes confused other passengers... "What was that all about?" asked one passenger one night when the bar was crowded and Maris had come to whisper in my ear that they were going out of the bar for a while. I have enough photos on my phone to convince people that we have known them a long time and that I've sung with them and elsewhere all my life.
"Is that you???" is a common exclaimation upon seeing the photo of me as a long-haired 17-year-old way back in 2007. Oh sorry, my mistake, early 1970s then...
Saturday 26 September 2026. It's early morning and the colours are muted still as we gaze out over the ship's rail at the French resort of Villefranche which sits neatly between Nice and Monaco's Monte Carlo.
It is, I think, our fifth visit to this lovely village on the Frenh Riviera. It has a wide bay but a shallow harbour and so we are anchored safely in the bay whilst the ship's tender boats take us into the harbour, weaving through the moored fishing boats and pleasure craft to drop us conveniently at the western edge of the village.
I know that plenty of passengers look upon the prospect of getting on and off these smaller boats as something of an ordeal, but the crew will tell you when to stand still and when to step on or off and hands are waiting to ensure you make it across safely. Grasp at forearms not at hands to make it as easy as possbily. Yes the boats can move up and down quite a bit relatively to the ship's gangway, which will follow the side of the ship, not hang out over open water. But follow instructions and you will soon find yourself on or off the boat.
We have for the last few visits, made our way along to the opposite end of the attractive seafront to the very last cafe before you reach the railway station. The cafe was there but shut. And from the state of the interior, it didn't look like it was about to open soon as boxes and chairs were stacked on tables and the place looked somewhat deserted.
But almost the entire seafront is lined with cafes and tables and we had no trouble at all in finding somewhere to sit, which action soon brought forth a waiter from the cafe across the road.
And then to our surprise, there came the sound of laughter and an accordion and a small group of folk dancers appeared along the seafront road.
Stopping not far in front of our table, they did a short sequence of dance moves without a single hobby horse, wave of hanky or banging of sticks and then turned off up a narrow street where a series of steps led up into the town proper.
We made our way back towards the maritime building but stopped for almost an hour on a bench on a raised platform of land that on a previous visit had housed a collection of market stalls and where my mother had wandered off heading in the opposite direction to that which we had told her. Luckily I spotted her, just about to disappear into the town and had to go running after her... I did 75% of the pencil sketch whilst we were sitting there then finished it later in Baristas.
Friday, 25 September 2026. One of the highly anticipated days of our cruise. We are in Portofino and, as the ship is anchored off the port, we are tendering directly into Portofino with no need for a costly tour involving a ferry from nearby Santa Margherita.
One of just a handful of spots along the north shore of the Mediterranean Sea where the millionaires and A-listers flock, Portofino is a gorgeous tiny harbour with a curving access lined with pleasing coloured hotels, shops and villas clustered around a tiny space beore the land rises steeply to the truly magnificent and expensive properties on the hillsides from which those superstars rarely emerge before at least noon.
Luckily I can be up early mornings because at best I'm a K-lister (sold CDs around the world but in laughably small numbers, played on numerous ships from the Caribbean to the Greek Islands, been on TV and radio and also known for this blog which currently gets around 5k hits daily). Not exactly an influencer but not bad for a pensioner content creator...
Here you get an idea of the curved aspect of the approach into the harbour as witnessed by the buildings to the right of the photograph. The empty bay is where the ferries from nearby Santa Marguerita dock.
Between the ferry dock and that which we have just arrived at is a large bay devoted to the modest little motor yachts of the rich whether famous or not.
I'm in two minds about fame. I've had people come up to me in airports to say how much they enjoyed my singing on various cruise ships and once got recognised in a crowd of 12,000 people waiting to be admitted to an Andre Rieue concert and I always enjoyed it in such moderation but I imagine it must be a bit galling when you are constantly interrupted by fans in restaurants or whilst out with your family.
I think I've only ever been asked for an autograph twice, so I must be doing a good job of remaining relatively anonymous...
The last time we were here, we enjoyed a wonderful gelato at a table outside a cafe but this time we found it gone. A small kiosk nearby but without any tables and chairs carried the same name and was selling cones but we were ready for a sit down and found a place on the opposite side of the harbour.
Their gelatos were a bit more like sorbet but just as welcome and a limonata went down very well.
Then a sit on a bench on the edge of the harbour and relax...
Miss Franny woke me when I started to snore and I woke with a start, staring wildly around at the empty space where surely just a minute ago all the autograph hunters had been waiting patiently...
"Dream on..." said Miss Franny tolerantly, upon which instruction I closed my eyes again only to find an elbow in my ribs...