On a smaller cruise you inevitably get to know your fellow passengers better and as everyone is usually over 50 or 60 they like to chat. On our first night we were paired up with young honeymooners. She was six month pregnant and given her condition they picked this cruise as something she could easily cope with. Imagine in all those years to come when they’re reminiscing about their first night away and the time they spent talking with me…

They were English. She was an English Rose, with a bump, who spoke like someone from the Home Counties but was part Norwegian and conversed with the waitress like a native. Hubby was more Essex estuary but had married in a kilt. We saw the photos. Further questioning revealed he had heritage north of the border hence the McLean tartan.

As she told us about the wedding in Oslo it transpired they lived in Zurich as income tax was c11%. They’d abandoned London. He was in biotech (no, me neither) and she in shipping insurance. On the Scottish connection she chirped that she’d “flown in a piper from Copenhagen” to play at the Reception. After all this I started to feel very poor in comparison.

They only enjoyed us for one night only before we were paired at dinner with a Belgium couple. They were only on for two nights and he was, I extracted, going through a late middle age crisis. He was an editor of a Sub-Saharan agricultural journal. (I know, you think I make this up.) Quite an intense chap redeemed for me by his love of Frank Zappa and Rochdale (his grandfather had worked there.). His forbearing wife was a teacher of young children. Both spoke Arabic, as you do.

Next came our more permanent dining companions. One was an initially quiet German lady, in her late 50s, who also had good English and was also a teacher. As our dialogue developed it transpired she was an angry Remainer. Oh good I thought as I waded into my tiramisu thinking it was 2016 again. She explained to me that because of this the end of world was, yet again, nigh. Her outrage centred on freedom of movement and the necessity for members of the EU to now shell out £16 to alight on our blessed isle. After her diatribe I felt it should be at least tripled.

Then came a Chinese couple from Shanghai, with British passports, who also lived in Switzerland. She was a teacher and his last declared profession was as an acupuncturist. (I do think he did something else before doing this.) They were truly delightful and echoed my thoughts exactly as regards modern day China, which suggests they’re not moving back any time soon. They volunteered this without any of my prompting although I was very interested but hadn’t wanted to ask. Less agreeable was his donning an Arsenal away shirt in the dining room: I expressed disappointment and volunteered that a quick audit of his wardrobe, by myself, might avoid any future unpleasantness (from me.) He never came back to me on this.

I know it’ll come as no shock to find that we were sought out. Sat in a cafe in Tromsø an Irish couple asked me to shuffle up as they wanted to sit on the same bench. Anna had met the wife on the ship and bonded. I enquired, as a conversation starter, “Have you visited the Cathedral and the Polar Museum?” “No, we’ve been for a swim?” “What!?” The husband had, prior to leaving the Emerald Isle, worked out the nearest bus stop in Tromsø, to the ship when it docked, to take them to a suitable local beach for a dip in the sea.

To set the scene, it was 17°C, grey with intermittent drizzle, there’s snow on the top of local mountains, the sea may be a tad nippy and we’re close to a city centre. Not an obvious pursuit. My first thought was they must know I write a blog! However, lovely people with lots of joie de vivre and a terrific sense of fun, but mad.

Other conversations with had with all sorts of folk usually from Scandinavia or North America. Most seem well travelled and easy to engage. There is also a transitory population who might hop on for one stop only. This included cycle tourers. Now there’s an idea?

Still the scenery is amazing and the other day the Captain slowed to let us watch some Minke whales (who I note also made an appearance in Tromsø on a restaurant menu.) The other excitement is when we passed another Havila ship heading in the opposite direction. This led to much flag waving, hosing the the other ship with water and long blasts on the ship’s horn. This assault on the senses is a deep long bellow that’s virtually bowel emptying in it’s volume and vibration if you happened to be on the open top deck when they tooted.