My day started like so many others, before the sun had risen and the streets of the port were still recuperating from the hurdle of tourists the day before.
While I dragged my tired, lazy butt up on to the cold deck I thought back on the many-a mornings before, on the many times I had contemplated how all these interruptions of my much-needed beauty sleep affects my mental state. But at the end of the day none of those things matter somehow.
The fact that we’re all leaving in a matter of days is starting to sink into all of our small, overstimulated heads. Why now? you might ask. Because today is packing-day and seeing the empty wardrobes and all your clothes laid out on a bunk that you saw as yours but that in a few days will give someone else that same feeling. That does things to a beaten-up youngster. When I’d packed everything up and tried to not break the zipper on my bag with the piles of clothes I brought ‘just in case’ it was time to go to work. There was not a lot to do today since cleaning-day is tomorrow. So a couple of kids found things to do and the rest, me included, just sat around and waited for the hours to pass.
As the night fell the sunlight made way for the street-and party-lights and the preparations for the last supper began. Once everyone got ready in their nicest outfits and had said their “oh this old thing?” to every compliment, the party started. After the charcuterie boards on deck the clump of excited teens moved slowly down into the big mess. While walking over the threshold my whole person was bombarded with balloons, garlands and nicely folded paper towels. It felt like a child’s birthday party, and it was marvelous. The hours pass, we eat, talk, sing and overall have a great time. We get to see the different things the watches had prepared. It was everything from music videos to live performances. I threw in the towel after the captain had sung a few songs, some his own, at around 11 pm.
While I laid down the second to last time in my bunk, I thought about everything we’ve done on this trip. How days melt together and get all mushy and sticky and how quickly time passes when you always have something to do. It’s surreal and it’s hitting me like a brick. My body feels like it’s about to disintegrate and my social battery is at an all time low. But at the end of the day none of those things matter somehow.
Lea Schmidt Stryhn, portside