Page 147 - Michael Frost-Voyages to Maturity-23531.indd

I re-joined the ship and two days later we sped past Gibraltar, the inspection
(which is to say, lifeboat drill) having yielded nothing of interest; it looked like
being a dull cruise. But in the evening things perked up with a pleasing young
lady called Anne. She already had two ‘A’ levels, and thus was obviously possessed
of a good mind, but unfortunately had two rather too attentive parents; she was
blonde and pretty (again, a poor word, but suitable) and I could see problems
– there was a good number of young men, but this was the only girl that I had
located – quite apart from a hawk-eyed father.

Next day, the first port – Cannes. This was a tendered port, but there was
only a short distance to the shore and there were lots of boats available, so I took
a walk ashore. I have earlier remarked upon the unfriendliness of the French
towards all things British, but this coldness appeared not to infect Provence.
Maybe it was the heat (this was August 4th) maybe the bon vivant atmosphere,
maybe the vacationing foreigners, but there was nothing unwelcoming about
this paradise. Perhaps it was also because it was difficult to discern even the
English tourist when adequate clothing seemed optional. My experience of such
bronzed pulchritude being so limited, I spent my whole time just traversing the
promenade; absurd, but time well spent.

To Palma the next day, where I managed to persuade Anne to accompany
me to the beach (coincidentally, this was one day short of one full year since I
had last visited this port) and she unfortunately was exposed to too much sun.
‘Unfortunate’ because I found out later that evening that her parents were well-
advised to be cautious with her; she knew a lot more about ‘social interaction’
than I did; but I could not even get to the touchy-feely stage with that wretched
‘tan’. And the following days were little better; plainly the parental eye had seen
something in me that invited suspicion and she was watched from a distance,
but very effectively.

Our final port was Lisbon, with no better resulting a personal ‘interaction’,
though I did get a brief opportunity to see something of the city; at that time
Portugal was becoming internationally isolated because of the independence
movements started in Angola and Mozambique, its main African colonies.
Guerrilla wars began in 1964 and continued for over twelve years, conflicts the
nation could ill afford.
The voyage to Southampton revealed nothing more to me of my social life,
but I had to make some decisions respecting the sitting for my Ticket. This had
to be arranged with P&O as my Articles were drawing to a close and I had some
leave due. The preparation for taking the ticket could occupy as long or as short
a time as one wished, but the conventional way was to go back to school (and I
chose Warsash) and reside there for the duration of the course. There was little
that was optional, and thus I was rather thankful that I had experience on both

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