Gervase Phinn: Lacking cruise control

Behind them, a large poster announced: Traditional breakfast and pint of lager 7, below which was a logo, "Travel Wise, Real Value" and the website, drinkaware.co.uk

The conclusions in a recent report that people in Scotland drink far too much, and the heavy consumption of alcohol has serious medical implications, and that something needs to be done about binge drinking, seem to have fallen on many a deaf ear.

Supermarkets continue to offer deals if you buy beer in bulk, bars and pubs are open all day and evening, and now airports are serving beer with breakfast.

Now I like a drink myself and consider that I do so in moderation. But, of late, I have been informed that I consume more than is good

for me. My doctor friend tells me that, as a matter of course, he doubles the amount when a patient reveals how many units of alcohol he drinks each week.

Recently, my daughter, a research psychologist at Newcastle University examining the effects of alcohol on intelligence, has taken me to task.

If I pour myself a whisky, she pours half of it back in the bottle. If I reach for the wine bottle to pour myself a second glass, she moves it away.

"Too many units, Dad," she says, shaking her head. Her view and that of my doctor friend is that because alcohol is so readily available and relatively cheap, this promotes heavy drinking. I am sure they are right.

I lecture each year on cruise ships. On one, two regulars at my talks were Miriam and Doris (I have changed their names). These elegant, rather quiet, prim and proper elderly ladies would sit on the front row listening attentively. During the cruise, I witnessed a remarkable change in their behaviour, the result of drink.

The ship we were on circled the Isle of Wight a few times and returned to Southampton with engine trouble. Over the loudspeakers, the captain said he fully understood how angry and disappointed everyone was and, as a gesture, all alcohol of the ship would now be free of charge.

Until this announcement, Miriam and Doris had enjoyed a small brandy with their coffee following the evening meal. Now the drinks were free, that evening I discovered them in the Crow's Nest bar working their way through the cocktails. They were three sheets to the wind when I managed to persuade them to allow me to take them back to their cabin. Hanging on to my arms and swaying from side to side, they attempted to negotiate the narrow corridor.

At their cabin door, I asked for the card key. Miriam, rootled in her handbag and produced it. Then she held it firmly to her bosom and looked me in the eye.

"And you're not coming in, you know," she slurred.

I didn't see them again. Perhaps they disembarked the next day with hangovers they would never forget or maybe they had kept to their cabin, too shamefaced to attend any more of my talks.

YP MAG 24/7/10