I'm on the North Sea headed back to Southampton.
There is no view to speak of. I call it a room without a view.
It was only a few hours earlier we were bathed in sunshine and a carver was whipping up a little fishy number out of ice .
Then in rolled the fog and our passage back to England was punctuated by the ominous blasts of the foghorn.
Fortunately when the view disappeared there were other things to distract like the ultimate dart throwing competition in the massive atrium and beautiful food.
Here's a little nasturtium appetiser chef Christian Dortch whipped up for us:
But before I disembark the promised bed report.
I was cocooned in comfort every night. I would also like to have an attendant make my bed at home like this every day.
And this is what the end looks like.