We almost regarded them as social super beings, with access to a stellar society staircase on which we could never hope to set foot.

When, of course, we discovered the plain truth … that everyone is invited … we immediately took the only course.

We don’t attend them … and never have. And, insallah, never will in the future.

I mean, come on … five or six hundred people queuing for half an hour to have their pictures taken with an anonymous-looking Italian, then sitting like rows of penguins and toucans in the theatre, clutching identical glasses of cheap sparkling wine. What sort of a game is that to brag about?

People can tell me as often as they like: “We only go for the free drink.” They may even believe it. But what do they tell their unsuspecting friends? And why do they buy three copies of the picture at apparently rather steep prices?

Next stop Valencia.

The Plaza de la Reina in sunny Valencia

Valencia, Spain's third-largest city, was a scrupulously clean ... at least the three kilometre area we saw from the port to centre of the old town was ... with a pleasing mixture of ancient and modern buildings. It is now also firmly established on the Formula 1 circuit. Shop and cafe prices seemed fair and competitive and there was service with a smile. What more could anyone want for the few brief hours available?

Valencia vistas. Clockwise from top left: A city of old and new; Iglesia Torre de Sta Catalina; Palau de les Arts; Santiago Calatrava's Museu de Ciences; one of many statues surprises along Martir; service with a smile at Cafe Bertal We had a full day at sea before the next stop at Casablanca and at 3pm passed peacefully through the Straits of Gibraltar. At the moment it is just a little too far away for the Somalian pirates. But they're probably working on it. Africa (left) and the Spanish mainland and Gibraltar (right) as the Sinfonia passes through the straits. Inset: Gibraltar  Oh, for the wings of a dove! The show in the San Carlo Theatre that night featured a magician who not only levitated girls, but sawed them in half, ran them through with swords and made them disappear and reappear. He also produced doves. My wife couldn’t understand why I was laughing. Until I mentioned one word. “Rowley." It’s not uncommon for journalists to enjoy a drink, or even drink to excess. But Rowley was well beyond that stage and rapidly on the way to becoming a full-blown alcoholic. We were with him one night in an upmarket hotel theatre lounge somewhere on a Mediterranean island waiting for the night’s star act … the “Birdman of Alcaraz”. “If you don’t mind, I’ll just nip to the bar to get a slip order before the show starts,” Rowley whispered and disappeared. While he was ordering the lights went down and the act began. On his way back in the near darkness, he took a drunken wrong turn and, entering the stage wings, knocked over both the doves' perch and cage. Those poor birds of peace. The whole flock took off like the White Arrows in a shrieking low level pass over the audience, depositing their loads copiously if not with great precision. Who said doves only cooed? And that was just the start. The real problem in their bid to escape from the drunken lurcher who had invaded their cosy little world arrived when they found the doors closed. That’s when the mayhem began. They tried to land on laden tables, clawed at people’s hair and clothing, diving, taking off again and searching out every corner of the room with the desperate magician trying to round them up. Then some thoughtless person opened the doors and half the flock departed to unknown pastures. The show was cancelled. I saw the magician with his glamorous assistant a year or so later on another island - this time in the Atlantic - and had a quiet word with him in the bar afterwards. “Didn’t you used to have an act with doves?" I asked. “Yes. And do you know what happened?” he replied. “No,” I lied. “Some drunk crashed into their perch one night and they went crazy, swooping round the room and the hotel. I never saw three of the eight again. And I could never get three of the others to work properly again. It’s safer sawing women in half.” Just as long as Rowley doesn't come blundering into the theatre while you’re doing it, I thought.  More fans than Wembley The King Hassan II Mosque at Casablanca (above) was completed in 1993 and not only holds more spectators than Wembley Stadium with space for well in excess of 100,000 but the minaret is twice as high as two football pitches. It doesn't look it but officially it is 219 metres high ... the world's tallest. The rule in Morocco's largest city would be to stick to the main streets. Elsewhere there were litter-strewn areas, proliferated by what Dylan Thomas so aptly and superbly described as "no good boyos". They were probably just "pussy cats" but take no chances. The only other site in strolling distance of the ship was Rick's Cafe. Is this the one or just one of many? Those passengers who called in reported that it was atmospheric but Sam was definityely not still playing it again there.

	Clockwise from top left: The mosque and minaret; the small figure in one of the entrances gives some idea of the size of the place; Rick's Cafe, pictured back and front, only opened limited hours; blue and white certainly was the colour scheme as this fountain shows.

Agadir ... tempting and not dear

The promenade at Agadir ... full of inviting cafes

Agadir was almost the complete opposite to Casablanca ... clean, tidy and more like a Mediterranean or Egyptian resort with a multitude of inviting eating places stretching along a huge beach and promenade. The town centre is set back from the beach but the shops and souk are full of tempting goods, many locally, but expertly crafted. Strenuous efforts are being made to sell it an international tourist resort but it is also an important fishing and commercial port.

Above left: Handmade lotions and potions (really?); Right: Another moment, another mosque. Below left: Another minaret, too. Right: Even the docks were sparkling clean

Above: Dockside dealers ready at their pitches for the "rich" passengers. Below: A general view over the city.

Dakar is, of course, the capital of Senegal ... and it cost many passengers extra cash to go there even though many of them never ventured outside port. Namibia and South Africa both insisted that anyone leaving the ship even for a few hours had to have Yellow Fever injections.

Those who didn't were required to stay not only on the ship but inside their cabins until it sailed.

Even as we strolled down towards the port exit streams of passengers were doing the reverse journey. "Save yourselves the bother," said we knew quite well. "It's a beggars' opera outside those gates. You can't move for them."

We checked ... and it was. So we hurried back to the Sinfonia for lunch.

 Left: Going bananas ... loading up at Dakar; Right: The wheels on the bus don't go round and round. The docks were not a pretty sight


Six days at sea ...

... and six nights. From leaving Dakar to arriving at Walvis Bay in Namibia the MSC Sinfonia covered a distance of 3,450 miles simply at sea. Three of the days were mainly dull and windy and only the notorious "Pier 39" gave any real protection from the elements.




Above: Camped out on "Pier 39"

Why Pier 39? It was named after the noisy squabbling pontoons of sea lions (left) on San Francisco's Fisherman's Wharf. It was a section of the top deck protected by the rock-climbing wall and, if you were not there by 7am you had no chance. Our German friends, of course, littered the area with towels long before then. Oh yes, they did.

Whatever the weather, the lads and lasses from the entertainments' teams did their best to keep everyone smiling
 



Dancing indoors and out. Above: Polito's Band plays for the pool party on deck before the weather changed. Below: The All Star Dance group forced indoors into the Sinfonia lounge when the weather changed.




Equatorial delights



Crossing the equator ... the usual fun and games. Above: Mass appeal for Neptune's party. Below: Neptune and his courtiers parade round the top deck encouraged (right) by Dorothy. His friends met most days.


The best of the rest



Clockwise from top left: Getting ready for Hallowe'en Night; Limbo on the top deck; Not many golfers on board; Fun and games in the afternoon

Thanks for the welcome. Where did all the pretty flamingoes go?

Not a good sign. As we alighted from the Sinfonia in Walvis Bay other passengers were queueing to get back on

When we finally reached land, we couldn't see it. Walvis Bay, the only commerical port in Namibia, was shrouded in mist and the tour coaches were departing in the gloom.

But by the early afternoon the sun had forced its way through and it was time to explore. Not for long. It was a good kilometre top to the harbour entrance and we encountered several people who discouraged us, including one German couple who repeated over and over again: "Nichts!"

The only positive recommendation came from a Canadian couple who said: "Go to the lagoon. There are flamingoes and other wild life."

By that time we had already walked two kilometres and it was at least as far again down to the lagoon. We were debating whether to walk down or get a taxi there and back when a friendly South African couple approached.

"Don't bother!" they said.

"But isn't there a big flock of flamingoes down there?" we asked.

"Two they replied. Not two flocks, but two flamingoes."

So, we decided to take their advice and walk back to the ship in time for aternoon tea (below).

	Memories of Walvis Bay. Top row: We saw more cranes than flamingoes. Sorry about that! Centre: The large fresco outside the Seafarer's Building. Cheap booze shop. Most of the crew made a dash for it. Bottom: The only lagoon we actually saw.

Thirty hours later we reached our final destination ... Cape Town. The master moaners had a field day and were justified. It was a complete and utter debacle. More later.



The end of the line ... Cape Town. Dull, grey and Table Mountain was shrouded in mist. But (below) better things were to come.



NOT QUITE THE END

 FOOD: Did Weightwatchers sponsor the dining rooms?

That was what Mr and Mrs Serial-Whinger alleged. They also said: Portions too small, poor quality, poor service.

The truth: The dinner menus looked mouth-watering on paper but, pasta dishes excepted, the portions were miniscule and often disappointing and some were simply inedible.

However, the silver lining, perhaps, was that it was good to travel on a ship where around 90 per cent of the passengers were not obese. All regular cruisers must have followed completely impassable elephantine figures on some vessels, waddling from side to side with laden trays.

Poor service: We didn’t use the restaurants for either breakfast or lunch so I cannot comment but service in the Il Galeone at dinner was never less than excellent.

Positives: The fare offered at breakfast, lunch and afternoon tea in the self-service La Terrazza was acceptable, plentiful and a fair average. If you wanted alternatives, they were to be found few yards away outside on the same deck with burgers, sausages and chips, pizzas etc. There were also tasty snacks available from around midnight in the main lounges. But, on the whole, the Sinfonia didn’t seem to be a stay-up-late ship.

Above: The Buffet Magnifique ... the chefs' showcase and the one time the Il Galeone restaurant was really laden with food. Pity so little of it was eaten.

DRINKS: Plus 15 per cent "for whose convenience"?

Mr and Mrs Serial-Whinger said:  Exorbitant, almost extortionate prices, poor service.

The truth: Really, it was simply profiteering. They were priced in Euros and the most expensive we have encountered on board a cruise ship. And, of course, 15 per cent was added “for your convenience”.  A rather poor joke. At least I think they intended it as a joke.

The offending message in the pre-cruise information

Just to give two examples!

The good news was that they actually had New Castle Brown Ale (sic!) on board. The bad news was its price … 5.20 Euros plus “for my convenience” 15%. And this for a small 33cl bottle, the size some landlords tried to con us with in England a few years back. At full price it would have worked out at £8.72 per 55cl bottle. My local sells it for £2.83. If that it isn’t profiteering what is?

 A long price for Long Island Tea

SECOND: MSC were daft enough to leave a new price list on board when the ship reached Cape Town. True there wasn’t a lot you could do about it at that stage, but it did provide more fuel for the serial-whingers.

The South Africans were going to pay 3.60 US dollars for the same Long Island Tea drink once the new punters were on board, as against 10.2 dollars on the voyage from Europe. No comment.

An early warning ... an item from the new half-price list

ENTERTAINMENT? Or not as the case may be

The grand finale in the San Carlo Theatre

Mr and Mrs Serial-Whinger said: Not enough variety or quality, no big names.

The truth: Entertainment is clearly a massive part of any cruise, but do people seriously expect to see world-class superstars on a moderately low-budget repositioning cruise?

Indeed, there was too much variety for some people, with a heavy influence of classical music and opera. But then the Sinfonia was catering for a multi-national audience. Here we came out on top, for once. With British, South African, Australian, American and Canadian passengers on board the first announcements were in English.

As for quality, there were two excellent and colourful dancing groups … and several variety acts, classical singers and musicians. The entertainments’ team kept things ticking along in the two main lounges and on deck and there were solo performers in other bars. Above: The All Star Dancers who had an amazing variety of costumes as well as dances. Below: The flamenco team of Leticia, Silvia, Lidia and Victor

If you wanted star names you should have booked a cruise on the now defunct Ocean Village. Last year they had George Michael, Elton John, Robbie Williams, the Bee Gees, Sting, Cher, Lulu, Annie Lennox, Abba and even Freddie Mercury. All on one cruise.
What do you mean they weren't the real stars? All our illusions shattered.

DISEMBARKATION DISASTER

Mr and Mrs Serial-Whinger said: The disembarkation at Cape Town was a debacle.

The truth: No arguments with that one, Mr and Mrs Serial-Whinger. It was both disaster and debacle. Some groups waited for three hours or more to get off the ship and then found their way blocked by passengers who had alighted an hour earlier and were still milling around like lost souls in limbo looking for luggage. Even when this was found it took almost another hour to get a taxi. We later learned than this was the first time this particular crew had visited Cape Town and were clearly unused to these procedures.

Above: Milling around ... lost souls looking for luggage at Cape Town. Below: The scramble for taxis.

Positives: By contrast, embarkation was as smooth as silk. It took less than an hour from arriving at Marco Polo airport in Genoa to lunching on board the Sinfonia in La Terrazza café.

However, the lifeboat drill was, as usual, chaotic.

Other major talking points:

SURLY STAFF

We didn’t come across any. All staff were helpful and solicitous, particularly in the reception area. Well done, girls! To keep smiling after the way some passengers spoke to them was quite an achievment. They were frequently berated for things which over which they clearly had no control.

Smiling through: Two of the girls from the reception staff

CLEANLINESS

The ship was clean and gleaming, the cabin staff did an exceptional job. Dead glasses in the bars were quickly removed and dining room staff were most accommodating.

EXCURSIONS

We didn’t take any but people whose judgment we trusted thought they were a little on the expensive side, particlarly the city centre trips. We found it easier to get off the boat, then look for another couple to share a taxi.

BEST BUY

The daily newspapers, printed from satellite in full colour, at 2 Euros. The Daily Mail, for example, was never less than 100 pages.

OVERALL RATING

Enjoyable. The good points outweighed the bad.