The P & O Chronicles Volume 2

INDIANA SLOPE

AND THE TOILET OF DOOM

DAY NINE

07.00

Up and about early.

We¹re in Yalta on the coast of The Ukraine.

We¹ve opted for the full guided day out so won¹t be back on the boat
until about 17.30 ready for an 18.00 sailing.

This is a beautiful port but a strange mix. Lots of lovely scenery and
buildings but mixed in amongst it a lot of typical former Soviet Union
stuff.

08.00

We board our coach which is very Soviet Union. We have been used to very
plush vehicles with all mod cons. This one has no seat belts, the air
conditioning doesn¹t work and it looks like it was painted by Ray
Charles.

I need not fear though as today¹s P. & O. Official Tour Escort is none
other than Captain Knowall* a.k.a. Indiana Slope.

He¹s been up since 05.30 walking the decks with his clipboard and spare
bog rolls checking that passers by know who he is.

So as we clamber aboard the derelict and dangerous looking coach Indiana
is happily passing amongst his public making them sign their names on
his clipboard and enquiring as to their anticipated bog roll consumption
for the day.

08.20

All passengers are present and correct and each has resolved not to have
a shit until we get back to the boat so we are on our way.

We are heading to Balaclava to visit the Naval Museum Complex, then to
Sevastopol and then back to the ship via the site of The Charge of the
Light Brigade so a very busy day ahead.

08.30

Indiana Tour Escort Slope is full of bonhomie and boyish banter with the
fellow passengers so for fear of becoming overwhelmed with a desire to
kill him I decide to sleep until we reach the museum.

09.45

Off the coach for a fag and pee and join the queue for the museum.

Looking around me Balaclava is a strange little port. One side looks
like St. Tropez whilst the other side, no more than 100 metres away, is
sort of naval scrap yard with a few active military boats thrown in for
good measure.

Lots of very rough looking blokes (and women) are loitering about
smoking roll ups and drinking vodka for breakfast. Most are fishing.

10.00

This queue for the museum is rather strange.

The place was supposed to open at 09.00, there are no other visitors and
we are booked in advance so why are we still hanging around with no one
acknowledging our existence?

Our official guide, not the bog roll and clipboard one, points out that
we are in a former Soviet Republic which seems to explain everything.

10.10

We are eventually allowed in to the Museum Complex which is really not a
museum at all. It is simply an opportunity to walk through what was once
a top secret installation.

From the beginning of the Cold War until the early 1990¹s this place was
used to house and repair submarines and their arsenals which included
every kind of missile.

The whole facility is like rabbit warren of waterways and passages
buried under hundreds of feet of solid rock. There are nuclear blast
doors in place that are over a metre thick.

The place was so secret that when it was opened Balaclava simply
disappeared off the map completely for many years. Not even the local
residents knew what was going on.

It closed down as I said in the 1990¹s but the museum wasn¹t established
until 2002. In the intervening period the place has clearly been looted
and ransacked and it¹s in pretty shit order. It certainly wouldn¹t pass
a health and safety check in the U.K. but it is a truly fascinating
glimpse of the old Soviet Union.

It¹s also bloody freezing so I¹m glad when we finally surface from the
subterranean world and I can have a fag and warm up a bit.

11.30

Back on the coach and off to Sevastopol.

Mr. Indiana Official P. & O. Tour Escort Slope is taking names again and
is now dispensing antiseptic hand gel to all and sundry.

It¹s nice to see him so happy!

12.00

We arrive on the outskirts of Sevastopol at a place called The Panorama.

None of us, not even Tour Escort Slope, knew we were coming here as it¹s
not on the itinerary or any of the P. & O. brochures so the natives are
a little restless.

12.10

Upon entering the Panorama any grumbling stops.

It¹s a magnificent building with a rotunda on top, the whole of which
bears a painting depicting the siege of Sevastopol. The painting is
spectacular and it¹s made all the more impressive by the addition of
real items in the foreground which add to a real 3 dimensional look. As
you walk around the rotunda it really is just like being there. Very
clever stuff and painted over a hundred years ago.

I¹m not doing it justice but it¹s brilliant and I¹ll show you some
pictures when I get back!

12.30

We are off to lunch at a riverside restaurant in Sevastopol. The Ukraine
appears very westernised and nowhere near as poor as P. & O. would have
us believe so lunch should hold no fear.

12.45

We arrive at a very smart restaurant at the waterside. We are told that
a three course lunch with wine is provided and we are to meet back at
14.00.

Sounds alright to me.

Lunch is passable as long as you like fish and nothing but fish.

Fish soup followed by steamed fish( of some variety) followed by fish
flavoured crème brulee lovely.

Myself and Indiana, briefly relieved of his official duties, share our
table with Pat and Pete from Yorkshire.

After brief introductions Pete announces that he is seriously ill and is
dying of an aggressive form of prostate cancer.

Not too good at small talk these Yorkshiremen are they?

I offer my condolences and ask him if he¹ll still be wanting his dessert.

He points out that his cancer is not quite that aggressive and that he
hopes to make it home to Southampton.

The rest of lunch passes fairly quietly and last time I saw Pete he was
still alive.

15.00

We arrive at the Crimean War memorial site which overlooks the scene of
the infamous Charge of the Light Brigade and of course many other
battles as well.

We stand on a look out point raised above the battlefield as our
official guide talks us through the various battles and points out all
the landmarks. The area is just as it was all those years ago and it¹s
easy to imagine the horror of the fighting that went on there.

16.00

I notice what I think is some scuffling going on.

In fact it¹s Indiana being embraced by two very large and swarthy
Russian war veterans.

Indiana has clearly tried to say something in broken Russian and it¹s
made quite an impression on these blokes.

Our official guide seems to think he told them that he was the son of
Yuri Gagarin but we¹ll never know as Indiana is now silent on the matter.

16.15

Back on the coach for the journey back to Yalta.

Asleep this journey is fine, but awake it¹s bloody terrifying as our
knackered coach winds it¹s way along perilous roads above sheer drops to
the sea. We do however make it back safely to Yalta and another
opportunity for Indiana to wave his clipboard about and dispense more
hand gel.

17.30

Back to the cabin and our steward Falcao is expressing some concern
about the health and well being of Indiana and myself.

Unbeknown to him I¹ve been playing a little game with him.

Every time he cleans the cabin he makes a fancy little triangular fold
in the end of the bog roll. So now every time Indiana or I have used any
I put an identical fold back in the paper.

I heard him saying in a whisper to his mate that those two blokes got on
in Southampton and they still haven¹t been for a shit!

19.00

It¹s been a bloody long day so a night of beer, dinner, more beer and
then football beckons.

Indiana is in the ship¹s hospital receiving counselling in an effort to
persuade him to part with his clipboard but I hope to see him later.

22.00

After dinner I¹m in the bar when I over hear a woman say to her husband
doesn¹t the Captain do well to park right next to the steps wherever we
go.

These people are bloody unbelievable.

23.30

Win thirty quid in the casino head off for a couple of gay coffees and
then to bed.

00.45

Indiana and his clipboard are already in bed when I finally turn in.

Drift off to dreams of inserting clipboards into places where they won¹t
fit.

* The term Captain Knowall was first coined by Susan Morris to whom many
thanks for allowing her humour to be repeated in this journal..