Having finished Gulliver's Travels, I bought a big book about King Arthur, which should last me to JFK. Also took to the task of combining my two bags, since only one is allowed on the boat for free.After checking out at noon, I was faced with the problem of keeping myself busy until 9pm, when I could board the Massalia. The weather was typically nice, so I read in the park for a while, ate a long lunch, went to the library when it reopened, where I saw a film on apartheid in South Africa, walked around, ate a long dinner, walked around more, etc., etc. While strolling around the seedy area of the port, at night, this guy asked me something I didn't understand: Was I -------? We kept this up for about two minutes-- he asking me if I was, me saying I didn't understand, until finally I realized he was asking if I were queer. Moved along briskly after that.
9pm finally came and after the usual police paperwork, I boarded and found my cabin, a 7 x 10 room for four people, on the bottom of the ship, under the garage. Two of the other guys are Frenchmen my age, who have traveled/worked in Africa and are returning home. The third is a few years older and is working on the ship for his passage back to France-- something I'd be glad to do, not only to save money, but to occupy myself during the trip.
Waited around on deck until we shoved off at 12:30am, then went below to the cabin-- which was a real sweat-house for the next several hours.
PHOTO CREDIT
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