I have left many names out because the dinners were jolly affairs with booze flowing like Niagara and the poor little Greek boy incapable of keeping notes and records. One thing is for sure, and I mentioned this in my Demosthenic speech, I have yet to meet nicer or friendlier people. And the good doctor Ivan with his beautiful Thai wife, who gave Jeremy and I good advice on how to keep up the drinking life without kicking the bucket anytime soon.

And speaking of my lowlife colleague, I tried throughout the trip to trip him up because we were both writing about the same subject—and poor little me always being France to his Germany and coming out second-best—but no cigar. I even locked him in his cabin on the last day so he would not be able to file, but he somehow slithered out. I hate him.

The bad news is that the ship was much too organized, and Speccie readers do not like to be herded. Our hostess Philippa tried her best, but company policy comes first. A schedule is a schedule, and for someone as recalcitrant as I am, it put a damper on my conception of freedom of movement. Never mind. We all got to know one another and we felt a wonderful bond being Spectator readers. The jokes went far into the night, and I only hope I meet them again before the man in the white suit pays me a visit. Long live the Speccie and its readers. Yippee!