A supermarket bathroom is not my first choice venue to apply make up on a Wednesday morning but needs must after an already eventful start to the day.

 I'm not so much upset that Steve put unleaded petrol into our diesel car, or that he left me at the side of the road at 7.30am to deal with his mishap whilst his step dad sped him off to the coast to compete in his tournament, or even that I was wearing open toe sandals (heels, naturally) outside at a temperature of 5 degrees for over an hour as I waited for assistance.. None of these things were my major gripe this morning... I was far more traumatised at the fact that as I was going to caddy for steve today and so had cajoled myself out of bed at some ungodly hour, I found myself  'sans' make up when the recovery driver arrived and after a few glasses of wine with a good friend last night and less than 6 hours sleep, I could have easily frightened the fuel out of the tank myself. John Macadam and sons recovery vehicles however were very efficient (if he was scared of my face he did a great job of hiding it) and whilst I had the sneaking suspicion they may be thinking it was ME who had  in a girlie moment forgotten which fuel the car requires (we do have one of each)  I most definitely blamed Steve whole heartedly and to be honest I look so scary this morning I think they'd have agreed with me if I'd said I was Kate Middleton. 

So whilst I wait for them to drain the engine, I have been advised to pop around the corner to the cafe in the nearby supermarket for a spot of breakfast and naturally I immediately headed to the bathroom to attend to my uneven complexion and wayward tresses. It was at this point I decided to write the next instalment of my travel blog, not because I want to name and shame Steve for being a prat and putting the wrong fuel in, though I do, and not even so much that I want to fill you all in on the splendid trip Steve and I just enjoyed aboard the fabulous Celebrity Eclipse, though I will, but more so because as I attempted to conceal my eye bags with a veritable trowel of concealer, I was bemused to hear a very strange sound coming from one of the cubicles. Either the occupant was 

A/ a gambling addict and couldn't wait to get home before erratically attacking a plethora of scratch cards simultaneously.

B/ she has a very bad case of fleas or

C/Has a handbag full of sandpaper and has opted to use it, in the cubicle, however she may deem appropriate.

Thus  proving furthermore that it doesn't matter whether I am on a cruise ship traversing the world or in a bathroom in Blackpool, oddities appear to follow me around the globe and not vice versa. Naturally, I felt compelled to write to you all, not specifically because it made me laugh, which it did, or because  I feel inspired, though I do, and not even because  I have lots to tell you, though I have, but because frankly , my toes are still frozen and breakfast here is cheap. 

We had a truly wonderful time exploring the Norwegian Fjords this past week. Though I have visited the area many times as a result of over ten years working onboard cruise lines, this was the first time Steve has been to Norway in any capacity and a first for me in the respect that I had someone like-minded to go on adventures, sample the local wares and generally laugh my socks off with for the entirety of the trip.

We drove to Southampton on the Friday morning early and missed all the traffic. After Steve had indulged his guilty pleasure of purchasing yet more new socks and underwear in the local shopping centre (I swear its a compulsion, he has thousands) we boarded the vessel and immediately felt  like holiday makers. At that point I was informed I wouldn't be performing until the final night of the cruise some seven days later which was a little disappointing for me as Steve had to leave the ship in Stavanger before the end of the trip as he had prior commitments at home. This meant he would miss my show and though he has seen me perform a thousand times, I am forever extolling the virtues of the 'Celebrity' audiences telling him how kind, attentive and supportive of my shows they have been since the start of the year. I desperately wanted him to see it, as much because I didn't want him thinking I was making it up! The one benefit to not working till the last night of the cruise meant that at that point, none of the passengers knew who we were, and whilst I thoroughly enjoy meeting guests after my performances and have indeed met some friends for life onboard cruise lines, Steve and I have been apart an awful lot recently as my prior blogs will attest, so we were very much looking forward to a little one on one time.

Immediately I realised that I had been accompanied on this trip by "giddy holiday Steve" and not "focused professional athlete Steve" as he bounced about the ship like a kangaroo on Red Bull , wanting to see everything, do everything and try everything straight away. As you know I have been pretty focused on this 5:2 diet I have been trying to stick to over the last couple of months and though I knew I might fall off the wagon on occasion whilst Steve was onboard, by day one he already had me skipping the gym in favour of a glass of wine whilst we watched the ship sail out of port. On returning to the cabin he furthermore convinced me I was travelling with a 9 year old child as he emerged from the bathroom with cotton wool balls protruding from each nostril.

"Go on, give me a kiss" he smirked, grinning like an untrimmed Santa...

"This must be what it feels like to kiss Magnum" 

Needless to say I conceded as I knew he wouldn't relent and that this was his way of setting the tone for the week to come. 

When I travel alone, which is almost always, sea days are for resting, going to the gym, catching up on correspondence, possibly a little light reading, but as I now had a fun companion it was inevitable Steve and I would attend the "Walk around the world" wine tasting event held in the beautiful Tuscan Grille restaurant that afternoon. At a mere $15 a head I must admit I thought we'd be in for a few thimbles full of wine and a whole lot of information but though neither of us are experts, we both do love wine and learning about it so we signed up. On our arrival we were given a glass and a sheet of paper detailing the list of the wines we were to sample each with three sections to complete.. sight, nose and taste. We were told to just have a walk around and try what we liked as we liked it and were very surprised to discover they were more than generous with the samples and if we were to fit all 12 glasses in within the allotted hour we should really get a wriggle on! Long story short, an hour and several glasses later we were no longer at a table for two discussing the finer nuances of the Australian Shiraz but rather all now in one large group, around one large table with all the other wine enthusiasts laughing heartily and generally having a whole lot of fun. 

We climbed the hill in the centre of Bergen the next day. Don't ask me why, there was a perfectly good funicular we could have taken to the peak, but whilst sat outside the Irish bar in town enjoying every last drop of the beers we'd paid FIFTEEN POUNDS for, we couldn't help but observe the rather bizarre choice of dress the locals seemed to be sporting. The weather was bright and sunny whilst still a little cool and almost everyone who passed us, man and women alike were wearing tight black sports leggings and running shoes. This spurred me to think there might have been some kind of marathon or fun run about to begin but on further investigation it seemed that most of the residents of Bergen were taking advantage of the beautiful day and walking to the top of the hill. Steve and I decided we'd walk a little way up, as the queues for the funicular were growing rapidly and the trains that passed us seemed cramped and full. We walked a little way and then decided we'd try a little further, and a little further and so on. After what we assumed was half way, though we were now puffing and panting and now fully aware of why the locals had all chosen to come out dressed as Usain Bolt, we made the decision that we'd continue to the top. It couldn't have been that far, after all there were women with prams making their way back down. Not so long later, I realised I'd probably have been better wearing envelopes on my feet than the ridiculous choice of shoes I'd opted for. As you know, I'm not a fan of flat shoes and in my opinion why should I be 5 ft 2 if I don't have to be? However knowing I'd be walking around the town all afternoon I'd worn some little red flat shoes (pumps in the UK, sneakers in the states) and I could now feel EVERY lump and bump in the road as the terrain became rougher. 

To be honest, reaching the top at over 1000 ft was worth all the huffing and puffing and instilled such a sense of achievement in us we decided to walk back down too instead of taking the train. This time, like veritable action heroes we took short cuts and dirt tracks and bounded down the hillside in a little over half an hour. By the time we reached the bottom we both berated ourselves for laughing at the 'local lunch boxes' in tights we'd scoffed at only a couple of hours earlier and vowed that next time we tried an adventure, we'd join them.

With the arrival into Flamm came the first of the spectacular sail-ins to the Fjords and the promise of a more subdued day than the last. After dragging our still aching limbs up for a late breakfast we headed ashore to discover to no surprise that all the tickets for the days local train to the top of the Fjord were already taken so we set off to amble around the port. After a brief look in the souvenir stores and museum we found a shed with mountain bikes to hire. This is something I've always wanted to do in Norway but as I'm usually alone I've never bothered. Though I was still remarkably stiff from the previous days escapades we agreed that £10 a person for 2 hours was not to be sniffed at, especially as the cost of living in Norway is so high. This correlates with their average earnings but makes it pricey for tourists in general. After a brief trip back to the ship to change attire (I'd learned my lesson!) and to pick up some water I met steve back at the bike shed and he instantly handed me a helmet. Most 30 something's with an ounce of street credibility would have recoiled at the suggestion of this slightly child like head gear but I gladly accepted knowing full well that I am less than steady on a bike at the best of times, without the distraction of waterfalls, on coming traffic on the wrong  side of the road and an unfamiliar bike. 

We completed the suggested 4km to the next town and the picturesque church relatively easily as the roads were flat and not at all busy. After a water stop and a few photo opportunities we opted to continue on further to the waterfalls we could see in the distance. As the road began to steepen slightly, I became less sure of the gear changes and started to wobble on the ascent. From behind me steve chooses this inopportune moment to say:

"I've got a great view from here... And I don't mean the scenery"

Well, as soon as I laughed I went... And I fell ungraciously and child-like into a heap with the bike on top of me in the middle of the road and smacked the helmet on the Tarmac. First taking a minute to check I hadn't broken myself, Steve tried to remove the bike from me and inadvertently almost removed my leg from me instead as it was still tangled in the frame. Laughing and a little shaken he straightened me up and dusted me off and I felt well and truly like a four year old with grazed palms and elbows. I was particularly glad for the helmet and after a further gradual upwards gradient towards a beautiful dyke, we rewarded ourselves with a speedy free wheel back down the hill towards the port. As we arrived closer we were travelling alongside the train returning from its trip to the top of the mountain. Knowing it was filled with passengers from our ship, buoyed with the new found confidence from zooming downhill and the added exuberance from all the fresh hair bombarding my cheeks I began waving frantically at guests in every carriage, enjoying their reciprocating greetings.

"Be careful you!" Steve shouted "Concentrate"

And after becoming a little too over confident at my new found ability to release my one hand from the handlebars, I proceeded to wobble into the kerb just as two ramblers were passing and almost took them out completely. 

In retrospect I'm pretty much convinced I will never be the next Lance Armstrong. Not only am I not predisposed to the consumption of performance enhancing substances but me and two wheels clearly do not get along. I am way better on terra firma, envelope shoes or otherwise and though no real harm was done to either me or the bike, I doubt Steve will be volunteering to come and ride with me again any time soon.

On the whole the week was spectacular. We both thoroughly enjoyed the other ports of call and an amazing final farewell meal in the Tuscan Grille on Steves final night onboard. It was hard saying bye to him in Stavanger even though I knew I'd be home two days later and the stateroom was certainly empty without him. I didn't miss him for long though as he'd decided for ease of passing through Manchester airport and onto the train he wouldn't travel home with his luggage but just a carry on case with essentials and left his belongings onboard for me to take back in the car. At the time I thought nothing of it, in fact I thought it made sense as I didn't need to take public transport on my way home and Steve was taking a bus, two flights and a train. However the reality was quite different as I began to pack and realised exactly how much he had left onboard. He'd arrived with a pretty full suitcase and a suit carrier and not only had I attempted to fit all this in the one case but discovered he'd left his coats, four pairs of shoes, ALL his toiletries.... So after a good half hour of lying on top of cases in an attempt to zip them up, I dragged the pair of them each weighing at least 30 kilos to the gangway to disembark. The walk way seemed miles in my 'ships anchor' platform shoes I'd refused not to wear as I was meeting a friend for coffee enroute home. I know, I know, I should have worn flats and changed them but to be honest EVERY BAG I carried (two cases and an over stuffed rucksack) was at absolute capacity and I dreaded trying to open them again. 

After what felt like miles humping the bags through the terminal building in Southampton, a row of luggage carts appeared like a mirage in the distance and I loaded my wares on to the trolley convinced my arms were now 6 inches longer. I emerged into the port like a stretched evacuee and immediately the heavens opened. My car was another good five minutes walk away and as I attempted to balance the bags and protect myself from the elements I cursed Steve under my breath for leaving me with all his belongings. I called  him all the names under the sun and fantasised about having a spontaneous yard sale on the way home and selling all his stuff on the side of the road to strangers. 

Obviously I didn't and after a good few hours on the motorway I made it home tired but unscathed, a little after lunch. 

On the whole I think there's a common misconception amongst cruisers about the suitability of a Fjords cruise for the 'younger' passenger. We met several younger couples on the ship and in our experience we definitely feel there was a lot to offer passengers of all preferences and mobility capabilities both onboard and ashore. As I've said I've been to Norway many times before but taking the trip in to our own hands so to speak as we did, having adventures and escapades and being as open as we could to trying new things we had an experience we'd have been more than satisfied with if we'd have booked this as a vacation ourselves. The fact its only eight days long also appeals to people with work commitments and even though at this time of year you're unlikely to be coming home from the fjords with a sun tan, sitting in the outdoor hot tub, looking up at the snow-capped mountains with a glass of bubbly as the ship traverses the channels and waterways of the region can't fail to satisfy the most diverse of travellers.