Mexico by Way of the Galley

Mexico tonight, reached by way of Elena's galley rather than any alteration to our progress across the Arabian Sea. Her menu around the world is becoming a parallel voyage, one conducted through plates and serving dishes. I find I am much better equipped to follow this itinerary. It requires no geographical confidence, only regular attendance and a willingness to eat.

She produced enchiladas, black beans and a salsa that made Big Kev briefly stop talking. This was a notable achievement for a bowl of chopped ingredients. The heat arrived with considerable authority, followed by the useful discovery that conversation was not essential to the enjoyment of dinner. I concentrated on my plate and allowed silence to do its work.

Elena has maps pinned inside the galley cupboard. Glimpsed among the practical business of feeding us, they make the whole enterprise look both ambitious and perfectly manageable. She appears to be taking us around the globe in the opposite direction to the ship. Between the two systems we should eventually cover a respectable amount of territory, although only one provides black beans.

I asked whether there was dessert. It seemed a reasonable enquiry, put forward by someone taking an active interest in the complete programme. Elena pointed at a bowl of oranges. This was the ruling. Their skins shone with the firm optimism of fruit that knows it is beyond appeal. I accepted the decision without further representations. There are people with whom negotiation is possible, and then there is Elena at the end of dinner.