By Glyn May
The waiter, sensing that our patience was wearing thin, dropped a bowl of hot chips (fries) and a bottle of tomato sauce at our table.
“Chef’s compliments”, he said, “ dinner is going to be a bit late”.
Classy cruising. Not.
Two days earlier, a crewmember carrying a sharp-edged tray had accidentally slashed my wife’s arm badly when he bumped into her in the breakfast queue. ...
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