We are under way for Fort Lauderdale and home. It has been a great trip, but like Dorothy Gale said, “There’s no place like home!” All together now, click your ruby slippers!
The sea is rolling at about three feet right now, making it the choppiest of our cruise. In talking to one of the crew who helped me set up for my talks, I learned that our Captain is very skilled in skirting rough weather (he made two ports in Iceland when other ships had to sail past – that’s where the Grand Princess was before we met it in Fort Lauderdale). Plus we have our sea sick patches behind our ears, so all is well.
Speaking of learning, the Captain announced to us this morning that we were the largest ship ever to dock in Santo Domingo. The sea bottom beneath the keel was so low that the ship’s company had to drain the aft swimming pool to be sure we didn’t drag bottom. As it was there was only two feet of water under us.
We stayed onboard today as the ship anchored off of the cruise line’s private island, Princess Cay, and tendered merry makers ashore. The day was passed with two good meals – table for two only – and several naps. Throw in a couple of sudoku puzzles, some crocheting, a couple of chapters in a Star Trek novel, and some Pencil Pointers, and it added up to a good day.
Bonnie is still yucked, but she thinks the antibiotics are kicking in. If it had to be, glad it was at the end of the cruise, and not the beginning.
Our bags are all packed and delivered to the area where the crew will collect them and carry them off ship for us tomorrow. Then it’s grab the baggage, find the Red Hot Chili Pepper, and point said pepper north. I don’t know if we’ll be in Monday or Tuesday. It all depends on my co-pilot, because if she doesn’t feel like driving, we will most likely be stopping for the night.
TTFN!
Sunday, October 24, 2010
Saturday, October 23, 2010
Second Saturday at Sea
This morning began much as yesterday morning, with the ringing telephone and a recording saying that a fire alarm had gone off in our area. Immediately after I hung up from the recording, it rang again. This time it was the Captain himself, asking if we were okay. I assured him we were, and he commented that the smoke detector is extremely sensitive and was no doubt activated by the steam.
We are just too hot!
All together now: “I just threw up in my mouth!”
After breakfast we journeyed to the infirmary to see the ship’s doctor. She Who Must Be Obeyed has not been feeling good, and if she lets these symptoms progress, she gets really sick. $130, a handful of pills, and a nasal spray later, she was diagnosed with the “common cold.” For $130 I’d say it’s anything but common.
While we were having a Pub Lunch – Bonnie had prawns and chips and I had a Scottish dish which featured a hard boiled egg rolled in sausage and deep fried – our luggage tags were delivered to our state room. Tomorrow evening we will leave three of our suitcases in a passenger hallway, and will catch up to them Monday morning ashore in Fort Lauderdale.
Speaking of Fort Lauderdale, I gave my final talk today. Attendance was some less than earlier talks, and I do not take the blame for it! I was competing against a tour of the ship’s galleys (would like to have done that one myself), and a $1600 bingo jackpot. It is interesting the questions I am asked after a talk. Usually there are a few dealing with the subject matter, but always there are questions which assume I am an official member of the crew able to answer specific shore questions. Today I was asked why the Fort Lauderdale tour was canceled and what the questioner could take in its place. No idea, sez I.
Since today is a sea day, there will be no shore excursions to recount, nor pictures to post, but I should report to you on the activities last night in the Princess Theater. Tom Stevens is a “vocal impressionist,” and he put on a show that was received with a standing ovation. He sings in the style of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., and a host of others, often transforming his face to mimic the singer. Complete with costume changes, at times you would swear you are watching the original. At one point in his routine, he pretended to be driving his car and the radio was stuck on scan. He did a half dozen voices, one after the other, just as soon as the songs changed. It was a very good indeed. Tonight’s offering is “British Invasion,” and sounds like it will be music by the Beatles and other groups of that era.
Tonight is the third and final formal night of the cruise, so we will dress in our best bib and tucker. Rumor has it that one of the menu offerings tonight will be lobster. Yum.
Well, I will go ahead and post this report, and if anything interesting happens between now and bedtime, I will report it to you in my final posting – for this cruise – tomorrow.
TTFN!
We are just too hot!
All together now: “I just threw up in my mouth!”
After breakfast we journeyed to the infirmary to see the ship’s doctor. She Who Must Be Obeyed has not been feeling good, and if she lets these symptoms progress, she gets really sick. $130, a handful of pills, and a nasal spray later, she was diagnosed with the “common cold.” For $130 I’d say it’s anything but common.
While we were having a Pub Lunch – Bonnie had prawns and chips and I had a Scottish dish which featured a hard boiled egg rolled in sausage and deep fried – our luggage tags were delivered to our state room. Tomorrow evening we will leave three of our suitcases in a passenger hallway, and will catch up to them Monday morning ashore in Fort Lauderdale.
Speaking of Fort Lauderdale, I gave my final talk today. Attendance was some less than earlier talks, and I do not take the blame for it! I was competing against a tour of the ship’s galleys (would like to have done that one myself), and a $1600 bingo jackpot. It is interesting the questions I am asked after a talk. Usually there are a few dealing with the subject matter, but always there are questions which assume I am an official member of the crew able to answer specific shore questions. Today I was asked why the Fort Lauderdale tour was canceled and what the questioner could take in its place. No idea, sez I.
Since today is a sea day, there will be no shore excursions to recount, nor pictures to post, but I should report to you on the activities last night in the Princess Theater. Tom Stevens is a “vocal impressionist,” and he put on a show that was received with a standing ovation. He sings in the style of Frank Sinatra, Dean Martin, Sammy Davis, Jr., and a host of others, often transforming his face to mimic the singer. Complete with costume changes, at times you would swear you are watching the original. At one point in his routine, he pretended to be driving his car and the radio was stuck on scan. He did a half dozen voices, one after the other, just as soon as the songs changed. It was a very good indeed. Tonight’s offering is “British Invasion,” and sounds like it will be music by the Beatles and other groups of that era.
Tonight is the third and final formal night of the cruise, so we will dress in our best bib and tucker. Rumor has it that one of the menu offerings tonight will be lobster. Yum.
Well, I will go ahead and post this report, and if anything interesting happens between now and bedtime, I will report it to you in my final posting – for this cruise – tomorrow.
TTFN!
Friday, October 22, 2010
Second Friday at Sea
The day got off to an interesting start. As I stepped out of the shower, Bonnie said, “The phone is ringing.”
I picked up the receiver and heard a recording say, “This is the bridge. A fire alarm has been sounded in your section. Proceed at once to your muster station.”
I threw on clothes and opened our door. No one was moving (not even a mouse – on Dancer, on Prancer, on Comet and Vixen – oops, sorry). But I walked down to our muster station, and there was no one there. When I returned to our stateroom, the phone rang again, and this time a live voice said, “This is the bridge. A fire alarm has been activated in your stateroom. Are you all right?”
I replied, “We’re fine. We’re all fine here” (Luke, we’re going to have company!).
She thanked me, and hung up. We never did find out what that was all about.
We toodled off to breakfast at the DaVinci, where I ordered the offered “English Breakfast” – two eggs, English sausage, baked beans, mushrooms, and toast. I don’t remember mushrooms with an English breakfast when I was in England, but oh well. Next time I must remember to be specific about the eggs. They were beyond dippy. If they had been steak, they would have been rare (steak if it wasn’t dead, was at least hurting a great deal). As it was, it looked like they had just escaped from the chicken without benefit of fire. But, in the best British tradition, I kept a stiff upper lip and muddled through.
We had booked an onshore trip to visit the “Cave of Wonders.” The tour also featured some general sightseeing out the bus window.
We drove east away from the capital to the far side of the island. Hispanola is actually two nations on one island. The western part, the poorest part, and one of the poorest nations on earth, is Haiti. A mountain range separates Haiti from the Dominican Republic. The main part of the capital, Santo Domingo, looks very cosmopolitan and prosperous, but as we drove further east it was clear that we were driving out wealth into poverty. The streets were dirty, the buildings unkept, and new construction reminded me very much of what we saw in Russia in 1993 – modules constructed of concrete and stacked on each other, and with less evident care than those of the Russian contractors.
The Cave of Wonders has been known for 90 years, but was only officially explored in the last two decades. The government of the Dominican Republic has opened it as a major tourist attraction, and they did a good job.
My only complaint is they did not allow us to take pictures in the caverns. The reasoning behind this is two-fold. First the cave is filled with cave paintings from the islands original inhabitants. There are more than 400 paintings scattered through out, some 1000 years old, representing their deities, village life, family life, etc., and they are afraid that flash photography will eventually damage the paintings. While that is probably true, and I accept their word for it, our guide told me what I believe to be the real reason, and I applaud them for it. She said that when people are allowed to take pictures, and they were in the past, the guests become unruly, looking for the best spots, holding up the whole tour, and being general pests.
Driving back we stopped at the Don Juan Resort, a sprawling affair that features typical tourist stuff. Over priced everything. Fortunately our lunch was included in the price of the tour, but it was a slim offering indeed – mixed fruit and sandwich wraps. No, not Great Wraps. Not even close. But we consumed them. Our guide gave us an hour at the resort which features, he said, the most popular beach in the Dominican Republic. Several of our group – the younger members – had brought swimming gear and they played in the water while we oldsters stayed in the shade and hunted for the bathroom facilities.
We are now sailing for Princess Cays in the Bahamas. Tomorrow will be a day at sea, and I will give my final talk. We will reach the Cays, our last port of call, on Sunday. Then we will steam overnight and dock in Fort Lauderdale at 7 a.m. on Monday.
TTFN!
I picked up the receiver and heard a recording say, “This is the bridge. A fire alarm has been sounded in your section. Proceed at once to your muster station.”
I threw on clothes and opened our door. No one was moving (not even a mouse – on Dancer, on Prancer, on Comet and Vixen – oops, sorry). But I walked down to our muster station, and there was no one there. When I returned to our stateroom, the phone rang again, and this time a live voice said, “This is the bridge. A fire alarm has been activated in your stateroom. Are you all right?”
I replied, “We’re fine. We’re all fine here” (Luke, we’re going to have company!).
She thanked me, and hung up. We never did find out what that was all about.
We toodled off to breakfast at the DaVinci, where I ordered the offered “English Breakfast” – two eggs, English sausage, baked beans, mushrooms, and toast. I don’t remember mushrooms with an English breakfast when I was in England, but oh well. Next time I must remember to be specific about the eggs. They were beyond dippy. If they had been steak, they would have been rare (steak if it wasn’t dead, was at least hurting a great deal). As it was, it looked like they had just escaped from the chicken without benefit of fire. But, in the best British tradition, I kept a stiff upper lip and muddled through.
We had booked an onshore trip to visit the “Cave of Wonders.” The tour also featured some general sightseeing out the bus window.
We drove east away from the capital to the far side of the island. Hispanola is actually two nations on one island. The western part, the poorest part, and one of the poorest nations on earth, is Haiti. A mountain range separates Haiti from the Dominican Republic. The main part of the capital, Santo Domingo, looks very cosmopolitan and prosperous, but as we drove further east it was clear that we were driving out wealth into poverty. The streets were dirty, the buildings unkept, and new construction reminded me very much of what we saw in Russia in 1993 – modules constructed of concrete and stacked on each other, and with less evident care than those of the Russian contractors.
The Cave of Wonders has been known for 90 years, but was only officially explored in the last two decades. The government of the Dominican Republic has opened it as a major tourist attraction, and they did a good job.
My only complaint is they did not allow us to take pictures in the caverns. The reasoning behind this is two-fold. First the cave is filled with cave paintings from the islands original inhabitants. There are more than 400 paintings scattered through out, some 1000 years old, representing their deities, village life, family life, etc., and they are afraid that flash photography will eventually damage the paintings. While that is probably true, and I accept their word for it, our guide told me what I believe to be the real reason, and I applaud them for it. She said that when people are allowed to take pictures, and they were in the past, the guests become unruly, looking for the best spots, holding up the whole tour, and being general pests.
Driving back we stopped at the Don Juan Resort, a sprawling affair that features typical tourist stuff. Over priced everything. Fortunately our lunch was included in the price of the tour, but it was a slim offering indeed – mixed fruit and sandwich wraps. No, not Great Wraps. Not even close. But we consumed them. Our guide gave us an hour at the resort which features, he said, the most popular beach in the Dominican Republic. Several of our group – the younger members – had brought swimming gear and they played in the water while we oldsters stayed in the shade and hunted for the bathroom facilities.
We are now sailing for Princess Cays in the Bahamas. Tomorrow will be a day at sea, and I will give my final talk. We will reach the Cays, our last port of call, on Sunday. Then we will steam overnight and dock in Fort Lauderdale at 7 a.m. on Monday.
TTFN!
Thursday, October 21, 2010
Second Thursday at Sea
St. Thomas and the Virgin Islands are falling behind us, as we sail for Santo Domingo. After Santo Domingo, we have a day at sea, then Princess Cays in the Bahamas, then Fort Lauderdale and home.
Last night after supper we watched a great magic show featuring “The Illusion & Comedy of Peter Gossamer.” There was also a musical performance – “Stardust” – in another theater at the same time. Two shows run for two nights, so tonight we will be able to see “Stardust” (a musical review with selections from the 50s).
We had breakfast this morning with a couple from Montreal, and a couple from California.
The Canadians brought their own maple syrup to the table, having ordered pancakes a few days earlier and been served the ship’s version of said syrup. They pronounced the ship’s offering as barely edible, and so they took a container which they had brought to give to a friend, and are using it for themselves. I was all set to have pancakes when they started in on this litany. The California lady ordered French toast, and the Canadians said she could use theirs, because it was far superior. I switched my order to a ham and cheese omelet and will try the pancakes (or French toast) at an occasion when we are not with the syrup snobs.
Actually Mr. Canada and Mrs. California both ordered French toast even though it did not appear on the menu. The waiter assured them it would be okay, but a few minutes later the head waiter appeared and said that it was not possible to provide an item that was not on the menu, since we were in a United States port. Rules and regulations, you understand. I did not, but then I wasn’t ordering French toast.
Throughout the meal, the wait staff seemed out of synch. Typically they bring a round of food for everyone, and clear the plates and then bring a second round. Today Mr. Canada got his pancakes (his second choice, which he covered with the best maple syrup in the entire world) and the rest of us watched him eat. Then Bonnie got her oatmeal, and we watched her eat. Finally the rest of the table was served. Usually meal times function like a well-made watch, but not this morning.
After the Canucks left, with their syrup in tow, we learned that Mrs. California had had knee replacement surgery on May 11, the same day as Bonnie’s surgery. They compared notes and pronounced that each of their knees hurt as much or more as before the surgery.
Later we headed for down town St. Thomas by means of a local taxi – we thought about walking, but there are no sidewalks out by the dock, so we rode. Not your standard cab, mind you, but a conveyance with four or five bench seats, sheltered under an enclosed top. The instructions were to pack 5 people to a seat, which is strange considering most cruise passengers come in pairs. There was a small rebellion from one couple who refused to be separated. The driver allowed as how that would be okay, and having collected $4 from each of us, started the two mile drive into town.
Everyone who has ever been on a Caribbean cruise, knows there are countless shops, catering to the ship’s passengers. Main Street in St. Thomas, a thoroughfare at least a half mile long, was lined with jewelry stores on both sides (we heard there are 300). Each offered the best prices on the island. And most of them were empty, except for employees. How they make a living with so many stores is beyond me. Mark-up has something to do with it, I am sure, but they can’t mark the stuff up outrageously or they wouldn’t sell anything. Being a certified diamontologist and a guild gemologist, I am going to wander into one of those stores someday to see what the fuss is all about.
Another interesting phenomenon that I have observed is “cruise snobbery.” While riding in the taxi, one person asked about a particular site on the island, and was immediately assured, by Super Cruiser, that they could indeed visit it from where the taxi stops, but it is hardly worth their time. “Believe me, I have seen it, and it is nothing special,” SC pontificated. I don’t know if the folks went or not, but that seems pretty brash to me, announcing your personal favorites as the Law and Gospel for all cruisers.
Super Cruiser did not allow her wisdom to be confined to only those poor uneducated slobs. She climbed in first, and then her husband followed. “David,” she said, (not your humble scribe) “watch your head. Watch your head!” And when he watched his head strike the top of the coach, almost knocking his yamaku off, she berated him further. “What is wrong with you! Didn’t you hear me warn you!” In total humiliation he mumbled, “Yes, dear.” I think it is a phrase that he uses quite often.
Bonnie and I had picked out a couple of places from our tour book, and decided we would find “The 99 Steps” and Blackbeard’s Castle, and maybe a museum or two. We were walking down Main Street looking for some type of directions, and finding none, asked a taxi driver who pointed us in the right direction – back the way we had just journeyed.
We walked to the site, and started our exploration by visiting an Amber Museum. It features an incredible collection of amber from around the world, displaying the fossilized resin in a rainbow of colors – cherry red, orange, yellow, green, black, and white. It was well displayed and included items of jewelry (for sale, naturally). The museum hosts pieces from around the world. There is even an amber waterfall, made up of thousands of pieces of amber and valued at more than $2 million. Beautiful indeed.
We climbed the 99 Steps to Blackbeard’s Castle. Actually there are 104 steps, and I didn’t think I’d make it up the last five. But it was worth the trip because the view from the castle was spectacular. There is supposed to be another museum in the area, the Museum of the Seven Arches, but we never found it. Walking down the 99 Steps was easier than the ascent.
Once back on Main Street we jumped into a cab and headed back to the ship.
Next stop Santo Domingo. TTFN!
Last night after supper we watched a great magic show featuring “The Illusion & Comedy of Peter Gossamer.” There was also a musical performance – “Stardust” – in another theater at the same time. Two shows run for two nights, so tonight we will be able to see “Stardust” (a musical review with selections from the 50s).
We had breakfast this morning with a couple from Montreal, and a couple from California.
The Canadians brought their own maple syrup to the table, having ordered pancakes a few days earlier and been served the ship’s version of said syrup. They pronounced the ship’s offering as barely edible, and so they took a container which they had brought to give to a friend, and are using it for themselves. I was all set to have pancakes when they started in on this litany. The California lady ordered French toast, and the Canadians said she could use theirs, because it was far superior. I switched my order to a ham and cheese omelet and will try the pancakes (or French toast) at an occasion when we are not with the syrup snobs.
Actually Mr. Canada and Mrs. California both ordered French toast even though it did not appear on the menu. The waiter assured them it would be okay, but a few minutes later the head waiter appeared and said that it was not possible to provide an item that was not on the menu, since we were in a United States port. Rules and regulations, you understand. I did not, but then I wasn’t ordering French toast.
Throughout the meal, the wait staff seemed out of synch. Typically they bring a round of food for everyone, and clear the plates and then bring a second round. Today Mr. Canada got his pancakes (his second choice, which he covered with the best maple syrup in the entire world) and the rest of us watched him eat. Then Bonnie got her oatmeal, and we watched her eat. Finally the rest of the table was served. Usually meal times function like a well-made watch, but not this morning.
After the Canucks left, with their syrup in tow, we learned that Mrs. California had had knee replacement surgery on May 11, the same day as Bonnie’s surgery. They compared notes and pronounced that each of their knees hurt as much or more as before the surgery.
Later we headed for down town St. Thomas by means of a local taxi – we thought about walking, but there are no sidewalks out by the dock, so we rode. Not your standard cab, mind you, but a conveyance with four or five bench seats, sheltered under an enclosed top. The instructions were to pack 5 people to a seat, which is strange considering most cruise passengers come in pairs. There was a small rebellion from one couple who refused to be separated. The driver allowed as how that would be okay, and having collected $4 from each of us, started the two mile drive into town.
Everyone who has ever been on a Caribbean cruise, knows there are countless shops, catering to the ship’s passengers. Main Street in St. Thomas, a thoroughfare at least a half mile long, was lined with jewelry stores on both sides (we heard there are 300). Each offered the best prices on the island. And most of them were empty, except for employees. How they make a living with so many stores is beyond me. Mark-up has something to do with it, I am sure, but they can’t mark the stuff up outrageously or they wouldn’t sell anything. Being a certified diamontologist and a guild gemologist, I am going to wander into one of those stores someday to see what the fuss is all about.
Another interesting phenomenon that I have observed is “cruise snobbery.” While riding in the taxi, one person asked about a particular site on the island, and was immediately assured, by Super Cruiser, that they could indeed visit it from where the taxi stops, but it is hardly worth their time. “Believe me, I have seen it, and it is nothing special,” SC pontificated. I don’t know if the folks went or not, but that seems pretty brash to me, announcing your personal favorites as the Law and Gospel for all cruisers.
Super Cruiser did not allow her wisdom to be confined to only those poor uneducated slobs. She climbed in first, and then her husband followed. “David,” she said, (not your humble scribe) “watch your head. Watch your head!” And when he watched his head strike the top of the coach, almost knocking his yamaku off, she berated him further. “What is wrong with you! Didn’t you hear me warn you!” In total humiliation he mumbled, “Yes, dear.” I think it is a phrase that he uses quite often.
Bonnie and I had picked out a couple of places from our tour book, and decided we would find “The 99 Steps” and Blackbeard’s Castle, and maybe a museum or two. We were walking down Main Street looking for some type of directions, and finding none, asked a taxi driver who pointed us in the right direction – back the way we had just journeyed.
We walked to the site, and started our exploration by visiting an Amber Museum. It features an incredible collection of amber from around the world, displaying the fossilized resin in a rainbow of colors – cherry red, orange, yellow, green, black, and white. It was well displayed and included items of jewelry (for sale, naturally). The museum hosts pieces from around the world. There is even an amber waterfall, made up of thousands of pieces of amber and valued at more than $2 million. Beautiful indeed.
We climbed the 99 Steps to Blackbeard’s Castle. Actually there are 104 steps, and I didn’t think I’d make it up the last five. But it was worth the trip because the view from the castle was spectacular. There is supposed to be another museum in the area, the Museum of the Seven Arches, but we never found it. Walking down the 99 Steps was easier than the ascent.
Once back on Main Street we jumped into a cab and headed back to the ship.
Next stop Santo Domingo. TTFN!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
Second Wednesday at Sea
Once again we slept late, ate breakfast in the DaVinci Restaurant, and wandered into town.
Our breakfast companions were two ladies from Philadelphia (sorry the Giants are beating your Phillies), and a couple from England. The Philadelphians are veteran cruisers and were bragging on all the trips they’ve taken and all the places they’ve seen. It seems like there is one of those, or one set of those at virtually every table. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, and you don’t. The English folk were on a pre-honeymoon cruise, shopping for, among other things, their wedding rings. They will take their nuptials in May and invited all of us over. We’d accept the invitation, but we did not exchange names. Now how are we ever going to find them?
But before I regale you with today’s adventures, I must bring you up to date on Ceramics at Sea. When Bonnie went to pick up her plate on Monday, it had not been fired. The crewman tasked with guarding those treasures said there was a note with hers that it was not to be fired. Bonnie explained that note was not placed by her and she wanted her plate fired, otherwise, it would be useless. He assured her it would be fired, and delivered to our stateroom Tuesday night. Tuesday night as we were heading for supper, the plate was still not in our room. We went to the Princess Theater after supper to see the variety show put on by the staff and crew of the Grand Princess, and she spotted the lad with whom she had spoken. He assured her it was ready and ran off to get it. When delivered, you could tell she was disappointed because there was a long scratch that ran across the design she had painted. But all of the work she did held up well, and it is a project to be proud of.
Control of St. Kitts and Nevis passed back and forth between Spain, France, and England, with England finally gaining the upper hand, and maintaining it until independence was granted in 1983. Remnants of British influence are still in evidence, as witnessed by, among other things, old fashioned red telephone booths – some still in working condition.
Wandering ashore on our own, and wading through a rather aggressive group of taxi drivers trying to sell us island tours (fellow travelers to Russia, think of the horde that descends on us at Red Square), we made our way to the National Museum. The entry fee was $3 U.S. or $8 E.C.D. (East Caribbean Dollars).
The museum is a simple offering, laid out on the second floor of a building which has other offices in it. Three rooms gave examples of pottery and tools from the Arawak Indians who first populated the island, references to the sugar trade that was the mainstay of island until the 20th Century, and details of their quest for independence from British rule. Not to be unkind, because the history revealed is impressive, but it was all laid out rather like a high school science project (and no photography was allowed). Still, we enjoyed it.
From there we went to Independence Square, a spot in the capital city of Basseterre where slaves were once sold. Directly behind the Square is Immaculate Conception Roman Catholic Church.
After a couple of hours ashore, we wandered back to the ship, and spent a lazy afternoon.
We shared a table with two other couples for lunch. Of the six people breaking bread together, five opted for the Ruben Sandwich. I was the lone hold out, choosing instead a seafood salad, consisting of calamari, shrimp, and scallops with mixed greens. Bonnie continued on her quest of sampling all of the ice cream flavors on board. Today was chocolate fudge and orange. Yesterday she had mocha and tangerine.
Tonight’s after dinner entertainment has two offerings: “Stardust” – music of years gone by, or “Magical Showtime” – featuring illusion and comedy. The shows duplicate tomorrow night so we will be able to see both.
A funny bit from last night’s entertainment. While we were sitting in the Princess Theater waiting for the show to start, the crew passed out balloons and encouraged us to blow them up. Soon balloons were being batted all over the theater. It was funny to participate with other “seasoned” travelers in such a silly endeavor. Then, one of the crew came on the microphone and said, “There are $50 notes hidden in three of the balloons,” and balloons were captured and popped, looking for the stash. A few moments later the voice returned and said, “Just kidding!” Come to think of it, we were a bunch of dummies, since we blew up the balloons in the first place!
Until tomorrow and St. Thomas. TTFN!
Our breakfast companions were two ladies from Philadelphia (sorry the Giants are beating your Phillies), and a couple from England. The Philadelphians are veteran cruisers and were bragging on all the trips they’ve taken and all the places they’ve seen. It seems like there is one of those, or one set of those at virtually every table. Been there, done that, got the T-shirt, and you don’t. The English folk were on a pre-honeymoon cruise, shopping for, among other things, their wedding rings. They will take their nuptials in May and invited all of us over. We’d accept the invitation, but we did not exchange names. Now how are we ever going to find them?
But before I regale you with today’s adventures, I must bring you up to date on Ceramics at Sea. When Bonnie went to pick up her plate on Monday, it had not been fired. The crewman tasked with guarding those treasures said there was a note with hers that it was not to be fired. Bonnie explained that note was not placed by her and she wanted her plate fired, otherwise, it would be useless. He assured her it would be fired, and delivered to our stateroom Tuesday night. Tuesday night as we were heading for supper, the plate was still not in our room. We went to the Princess Theater after supper to see the variety show put on by the staff and crew of the Grand Princess, and she spotted the lad with whom she had spoken. He assured her it was ready and ran off to get it. When delivered, you could tell she was disappointed because there was a long scratch that ran across the design she had painted. But all of the work she did held up well, and it is a project to be proud of.
Control of St. Kitts and Nevis passed back and forth between Spain, France, and England, with England finally gaining the upper hand, and maintaining it until independence was granted in 1983. Remnants of British influence are still in evidence, as witnessed by, among other things, old fashioned red telephone booths – some still in working condition.
Wandering ashore on our own, and wading through a rather aggressive group of taxi drivers trying to sell us island tours (fellow travelers to Russia, think of the horde that descends on us at Red Square), we made our way to the National Museum. The entry fee was $3 U.S. or $8 E.C.D. (East Caribbean Dollars).
The museum is a simple offering, laid out on the second floor of a building which has other offices in it. Three rooms gave examples of pottery and tools from the Arawak Indians who first populated the island, references to the sugar trade that was the mainstay of island until the 20th Century, and details of their quest for independence from British rule. Not to be unkind, because the history revealed is impressive, but it was all laid out rather like a high school science project (and no photography was allowed). Still, we enjoyed it.
From there we went to Independence Square, a spot in the capital city of Basseterre where slaves were once sold. Directly behind the Square is Immaculate Conception Roman Catholic Church.
After a couple of hours ashore, we wandered back to the ship, and spent a lazy afternoon.
We shared a table with two other couples for lunch. Of the six people breaking bread together, five opted for the Ruben Sandwich. I was the lone hold out, choosing instead a seafood salad, consisting of calamari, shrimp, and scallops with mixed greens. Bonnie continued on her quest of sampling all of the ice cream flavors on board. Today was chocolate fudge and orange. Yesterday she had mocha and tangerine.
Tonight’s after dinner entertainment has two offerings: “Stardust” – music of years gone by, or “Magical Showtime” – featuring illusion and comedy. The shows duplicate tomorrow night so we will be able to see both.
A funny bit from last night’s entertainment. While we were sitting in the Princess Theater waiting for the show to start, the crew passed out balloons and encouraged us to blow them up. Soon balloons were being batted all over the theater. It was funny to participate with other “seasoned” travelers in such a silly endeavor. Then, one of the crew came on the microphone and said, “There are $50 notes hidden in three of the balloons,” and balloons were captured and popped, looking for the stash. A few moments later the voice returned and said, “Just kidding!” Come to think of it, we were a bunch of dummies, since we blew up the balloons in the first place!
Until tomorrow and St. Thomas. TTFN!
Tuesday, October 19, 2010
Second Tuesday at Sea
We slept late today, and had a leisurely breakfast in the DaVinci dining room. Our ship is docked as close to down town as we have been on this cruise so far. St. Vincent is the largest and most developed of a cluster of 32 islands collectively known as the Grenadines.
The duty-free shops are in a building at the end of the dock, and filled with the usual collection of souvenirs.
The highlight of our day was passing a Miami Dolphins fan – I know that because she was wearing the team colors – and she remarked to me – as I am wearing Steeler colors – “We play you this week.” I replied, “I am sorry for your loss.” She allowed as how I had it backwards and she extended her sympathy. No Cleveland Browns fans have surfaced.
It was our intention to just wander through the town, checking out the local color, but about 20 minutes in the town of Kingstown, we had seen enough. I have no idea what the temperature was, but it the hottest so far. We gathered up a few items from our cabin and went to Deck 7 and relaxed until lunch time. Now we are relaxing until suppertime. Tomorrow we dock at St. Kitts & Nevis. And will once again sleep in.
The duty-free shops are in a building at the end of the dock, and filled with the usual collection of souvenirs.
The highlight of our day was passing a Miami Dolphins fan – I know that because she was wearing the team colors – and she remarked to me – as I am wearing Steeler colors – “We play you this week.” I replied, “I am sorry for your loss.” She allowed as how I had it backwards and she extended her sympathy. No Cleveland Browns fans have surfaced.
It was our intention to just wander through the town, checking out the local color, but about 20 minutes in the town of Kingstown, we had seen enough. I have no idea what the temperature was, but it the hottest so far. We gathered up a few items from our cabin and went to Deck 7 and relaxed until lunch time. Now we are relaxing until suppertime. Tomorrow we dock at St. Kitts & Nevis. And will once again sleep in.
Monday, October 18, 2010
Second Monday at Sea
If this is Monday, we must be in Barbados.
Actually, it is and we were. A most enjoyable stop. While doing research for my Barbados talk, I stumbled on a blog (http://abajantourgirlexploringbarbados.blogspot.com/), written by Sarah Taylor, a Bajan (or Barbadian if you prefer – they prefer Bajan). I learned a lot of neat stuff from reading her blog and my talk was much better for it. One of the links on her blog is to her own tour company called “Glory Tours.” I looked through the offerings and booked an all day excursion with her. Bonnie and I each gave Sarah, and her associate, Quambi, two thumbs up.
As we began our journey, Sarah apologized for pointing out to us the swankiest, ritziest place on Barbados. Her apology was based on the fact that the golfer who traditionally wears red on Sunday and is a serial adulterer was married there.
Sarah drove us up the coast road from St. Michael Parish, where the ship was docked, into St. James Parish and Holetown (where English settlers first came ashore – so named because of a local geological formation), into St. Peter Parish and Spreightstown (pronounced Spikestown), and into St. Lucy Parish.
St. Lucy Parish is the northern most of Barbados’ 11 parishes – this division of the nation dates from the time of the British settlers. First there were 6 parishes, and when 5 more wealthy folk showed up, they recarved the island into 11. Only St. Thomas and St. George are landlocked. Each parish has a parish church, and each parish used to send delegates to the House of Commons in London.
The most incredible part of St. Lucy is the ocean-battered coast, and Animal Flower Cave. Animal Flower Cave was so named because of the sea anemones (“Don’t hurt yourself kid!”). I looked down into the Cave, but did not go physically into it. The island is made of coral, and here on the rugged northern coast, the coral is very sharp, hand-holds going into the cave do not exist, the steps are steep and often slippery, so I chose to do a few photographs and leave the exploration for another time.
Bonnie stayed back on the prepared walkway and did not venture out onto the coral. It would have been incredibly difficult for her to have trekked across that stretch of land.
From there we went to The Flower Forest, an area filled with plants and trees from all over the world. The Forest is the creation of a man who tried his hand at being a plantation owner, raising and selling sugar cane, but gave it up after a struggle of several years and came up with a new idea. The Forest, as is a lot of the tropical areas of Barbados is infected with African snails. We saw dozens of them on our 30 minute walk. They eat the leaves of the plants, killing the plants. The Bajan government has put a bounty on them. They pay 75 cents a pound for the snails, and when received, they are thrown into an incinerator. To step on them only makes the problem worse, because they carry the eggs in their shells. Crushing the shells kills one snail, but releases dozens more.
Sarah had to return to the office to catch up on some other work, and so she traded places with Quambi, also a native Bajan. Quambi said his name means, “African man who was born on Friday,” and then he added, but “I was born on Wednesday.”
We stopped for lunch at the Sand Dunes Bar and Grill in St. Joseph Parish. I regret not trying the flying fish – the national fish of Barbados – opting instead for grilled chicken.
We did a photo stop in Bathsheba, named for King David’s partner in adultery. Bathsheba, according to legend, bathed in milk, and the waves which continually roll up on the shore in that area are white and foamy, like milk. Unlike the other islands in the Caribbean and this part of the Atlantic Ocean, Barbados is not a volcanic island. Instead it is made of coral. The huge “boulders” lying on the beach at Bathsheba are pieces of coral that the sea has carved out.
Another part of the tour was a drive-by of Morgan Lewis Sugar Mill, the only wind mill on the island that is still in working order, and harkening back to earlier days when there were more than 100 wind mills crushing sugar cane to release the liquid which is made into molasses (to make rum) and sugar crystal (to be used as a sweetener).
Our next to the last stop was at St. Nicholas Abby, one of only three examples of Jacobean architecture in the Western Hemisphere (built during the time of James I of England, 1603-1625 – King James of the King James Version of the Bible). A second Jacobean mansion is Drax Hall, also on Barbados, and the third is near Newport News, Virginia.
Barbados has many colorful stories from its past, and events which took place at St. Nicholas Abby certainly reaches for the top of the list. The Abby was built by Colonel Benjamin Berringer. His neighbor, friend, and business partner was John Yeamans. All was well until John began to cast his eye upon Benjamin’s wife, Sarah. The story has a tragic ending for Berringer. Depending on which version you prefer, he was either killed in a duel with Yeamans, or poisoned by his Mrs, whereupon Yeamans married the widow Berringer. A few years later Mr. and Mrs. Yeamans left Barbados for South Carolina where he became governor in 1672. Two years later John Yeamans died – by poisoning – and his grieving widow disappeared.
A brief visit to Earthworks, a local company producing beautiful pottery. After a tour and an explanation of their craft, Quambi took us back to the dock, and shortly thereafter, we sailed for St. Vincent & the Grenadines.
The only frustration of the day was when Bonnie went to pick up the plate she had made in ceramics class. Someone did not want their plate fired, and put out a note, which got mistakenly attached to Bonnie’s. They will fire it today, and she should be able to pick it up tomorrow.
So, as we say here in the Atlantic Ocean, TTFN!
Actually, it is and we were. A most enjoyable stop. While doing research for my Barbados talk, I stumbled on a blog (http://abajantourgirlexploringbarbados.blogspot.com/), written by Sarah Taylor, a Bajan (or Barbadian if you prefer – they prefer Bajan). I learned a lot of neat stuff from reading her blog and my talk was much better for it. One of the links on her blog is to her own tour company called “Glory Tours.” I looked through the offerings and booked an all day excursion with her. Bonnie and I each gave Sarah, and her associate, Quambi, two thumbs up.
As we began our journey, Sarah apologized for pointing out to us the swankiest, ritziest place on Barbados. Her apology was based on the fact that the golfer who traditionally wears red on Sunday and is a serial adulterer was married there.
Sarah drove us up the coast road from St. Michael Parish, where the ship was docked, into St. James Parish and Holetown (where English settlers first came ashore – so named because of a local geological formation), into St. Peter Parish and Spreightstown (pronounced Spikestown), and into St. Lucy Parish.
St. Lucy Parish is the northern most of Barbados’ 11 parishes – this division of the nation dates from the time of the British settlers. First there were 6 parishes, and when 5 more wealthy folk showed up, they recarved the island into 11. Only St. Thomas and St. George are landlocked. Each parish has a parish church, and each parish used to send delegates to the House of Commons in London.
Bonnie stayed back on the prepared walkway and did not venture out onto the coral. It would have been incredibly difficult for her to have trekked across that stretch of land.
From there we went to The Flower Forest, an area filled with plants and trees from all over the world. The Forest is the creation of a man who tried his hand at being a plantation owner, raising and selling sugar cane, but gave it up after a struggle of several years and came up with a new idea. The Forest, as is a lot of the tropical areas of Barbados is infected with African snails. We saw dozens of them on our 30 minute walk. They eat the leaves of the plants, killing the plants. The Bajan government has put a bounty on them. They pay 75 cents a pound for the snails, and when received, they are thrown into an incinerator. To step on them only makes the problem worse, because they carry the eggs in their shells. Crushing the shells kills one snail, but releases dozens more.
Sarah had to return to the office to catch up on some other work, and so she traded places with Quambi, also a native Bajan. Quambi said his name means, “African man who was born on Friday,” and then he added, but “I was born on Wednesday.”
We stopped for lunch at the Sand Dunes Bar and Grill in St. Joseph Parish. I regret not trying the flying fish – the national fish of Barbados – opting instead for grilled chicken.
We did a photo stop in Bathsheba, named for King David’s partner in adultery. Bathsheba, according to legend, bathed in milk, and the waves which continually roll up on the shore in that area are white and foamy, like milk. Unlike the other islands in the Caribbean and this part of the Atlantic Ocean, Barbados is not a volcanic island. Instead it is made of coral. The huge “boulders” lying on the beach at Bathsheba are pieces of coral that the sea has carved out.
Another part of the tour was a drive-by of Morgan Lewis Sugar Mill, the only wind mill on the island that is still in working order, and harkening back to earlier days when there were more than 100 wind mills crushing sugar cane to release the liquid which is made into molasses (to make rum) and sugar crystal (to be used as a sweetener).
Our next to the last stop was at St. Nicholas Abby, one of only three examples of Jacobean architecture in the Western Hemisphere (built during the time of James I of England, 1603-1625 – King James of the King James Version of the Bible). A second Jacobean mansion is Drax Hall, also on Barbados, and the third is near Newport News, Virginia.
Barbados has many colorful stories from its past, and events which took place at St. Nicholas Abby certainly reaches for the top of the list. The Abby was built by Colonel Benjamin Berringer. His neighbor, friend, and business partner was John Yeamans. All was well until John began to cast his eye upon Benjamin’s wife, Sarah. The story has a tragic ending for Berringer. Depending on which version you prefer, he was either killed in a duel with Yeamans, or poisoned by his Mrs, whereupon Yeamans married the widow Berringer. A few years later Mr. and Mrs. Yeamans left Barbados for South Carolina where he became governor in 1672. Two years later John Yeamans died – by poisoning – and his grieving widow disappeared.
A brief visit to Earthworks, a local company producing beautiful pottery. After a tour and an explanation of their craft, Quambi took us back to the dock, and shortly thereafter, we sailed for St. Vincent & the Grenadines.
The only frustration of the day was when Bonnie went to pick up the plate she had made in ceramics class. Someone did not want their plate fired, and put out a note, which got mistakenly attached to Bonnie’s. They will fire it today, and she should be able to pick it up tomorrow.
So, as we say here in the Atlantic Ocean, TTFN!
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Sunday
Grenada has recently built a new docking facility for cruises ships. In earlier days cruises came into the same area as cargo ships. In building the new dock, they reclaimed several acres of land from the sea. And they put in a huge shopping mall filled with duty free stores – the better to take your money, my dear.
When we disembarked there was a ship of the Celebrity line, “The Millennium,” docked right beside us, both vessels disgorging passengers simultaneously.
Bonnie had picked a four hour tour in an air-conditioned bus, seeing the major sites of Grenada and it was excellent. We remarked later that the roads reminded us of those we had traveled in England – very narrow, barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass, and at times one vehicle had to pull over and give right of way to the oncoming traffic. The only things that were missing were those great English hedges.
In addition to our skilled driver, who went by the nickname of “Flintstone,” we were accompanied by Louise, a lady of incredible knowledge and grace. She obviously enjoyed telling visitors about her home, and made no apologies for anything in its past. Throughout the trip she kept us entertained and informed. I’ve taken tours where the guides were technically correct, but offered their comments as the product of job, devoid of enthusiasm. Not Louise. This is her home, and she is incredibly proud.
At one point she commented about the American invasion of Grenada in 1983, directed by President Ronald Reagan. Some of the American artillery hit the insane asylum, but she said, it was the fault of the Grenadians, not the Americans, because her people deliberately put those citizens in harm’s way and did not tell the Americans. She applauded the invasion saying that forces of Fidel Castro had been making inroads into Grenada and were threatening their freedom and independence.
Hurricane Ivan in September 2004 wreaked incredible damage to the island, with barely a building escaping undamaged. Final figures showed 90 percent of all the structures on the island were damaged in some fashion, with countless numbers destroyed. Louise said she watched as the roof of her house blew off and she and her children were forced to hide under the bed. At one juncture she pointed out the hurricane shelter – it was left with only parts of two adjacent walls standing. The nutmeg trees also took a huge hit – before the storm, Grenada was the number two producer of nutmeg in the world, now it is only number three, but they are working valiantly to reclaim the second spot (Indonesia is number one).
On our tour we saw waterfalls, mountain valleys, rainforests, lakes, and volcanic craters. We visited Fort Frederick and Fort Matthew.
We stopped at one of the island’s black sand beaches. In geological terms, a black sand beach is relatively new. As the centuries pass, the sand gets lighter and lighter until it is glistening, white sand.
The island is filled with incredible plant life – nutmeg, mace, clove, cinnamon, cocoa, cashew nuts, and more.
One of our stops was at Annandale Falls where young men dressed in local costume make a show of diving 50 feet into the pool below. Here, as elsewhere on the island, they do it for tips. We saw a man with an iguana sitting on his arm, a man with green monkey, several ladies with fruit baskets balanced on their heads. Each of them would pose for “a dollar.” There are road side stands with locals selling fruit, corn on the cob grilled over a charcoal fire, juices made from readily available produce, and necklaces made of a variety of spices (“No charge to look. No charge to smell”).
Returning to the ship, we had hot dogs and french fries on the Lido Deck, washed down with coke and diet coke, and topped off by ice cream cones and naps. We were back on deck as the Grand Princess cast off her moorings and headed for Barbados, our next stop.
And the Steelers, with the return of Big Ben won!
A good day!
When we disembarked there was a ship of the Celebrity line, “The Millennium,” docked right beside us, both vessels disgorging passengers simultaneously.
Bonnie had picked a four hour tour in an air-conditioned bus, seeing the major sites of Grenada and it was excellent. We remarked later that the roads reminded us of those we had traveled in England – very narrow, barely wide enough for two vehicles to pass, and at times one vehicle had to pull over and give right of way to the oncoming traffic. The only things that were missing were those great English hedges.
In addition to our skilled driver, who went by the nickname of “Flintstone,” we were accompanied by Louise, a lady of incredible knowledge and grace. She obviously enjoyed telling visitors about her home, and made no apologies for anything in its past. Throughout the trip she kept us entertained and informed. I’ve taken tours where the guides were technically correct, but offered their comments as the product of job, devoid of enthusiasm. Not Louise. This is her home, and she is incredibly proud.
At one point she commented about the American invasion of Grenada in 1983, directed by President Ronald Reagan. Some of the American artillery hit the insane asylum, but she said, it was the fault of the Grenadians, not the Americans, because her people deliberately put those citizens in harm’s way and did not tell the Americans. She applauded the invasion saying that forces of Fidel Castro had been making inroads into Grenada and were threatening their freedom and independence.
Hurricane Ivan in September 2004 wreaked incredible damage to the island, with barely a building escaping undamaged. Final figures showed 90 percent of all the structures on the island were damaged in some fashion, with countless numbers destroyed. Louise said she watched as the roof of her house blew off and she and her children were forced to hide under the bed. At one juncture she pointed out the hurricane shelter – it was left with only parts of two adjacent walls standing. The nutmeg trees also took a huge hit – before the storm, Grenada was the number two producer of nutmeg in the world, now it is only number three, but they are working valiantly to reclaim the second spot (Indonesia is number one).
On our tour we saw waterfalls, mountain valleys, rainforests, lakes, and volcanic craters. We visited Fort Frederick and Fort Matthew.
We stopped at one of the island’s black sand beaches. In geological terms, a black sand beach is relatively new. As the centuries pass, the sand gets lighter and lighter until it is glistening, white sand.
The island is filled with incredible plant life – nutmeg, mace, clove, cinnamon, cocoa, cashew nuts, and more.
One of our stops was at Annandale Falls where young men dressed in local costume make a show of diving 50 feet into the pool below. Here, as elsewhere on the island, they do it for tips. We saw a man with an iguana sitting on his arm, a man with green monkey, several ladies with fruit baskets balanced on their heads. Each of them would pose for “a dollar.” There are road side stands with locals selling fruit, corn on the cob grilled over a charcoal fire, juices made from readily available produce, and necklaces made of a variety of spices (“No charge to look. No charge to smell”).
Returning to the ship, we had hot dogs and french fries on the Lido Deck, washed down with coke and diet coke, and topped off by ice cream cones and naps. We were back on deck as the Grand Princess cast off her moorings and headed for Barbados, our next stop.
And the Steelers, with the return of Big Ben won!
A good day!
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Saturday
Our next to last day at sea, with 8 ports to go. I did the Barbados talk today, and it was the best so far (IMHO).
BTW: The pictures in today’s posting are a few more shots from Curacao.
Bonnie has been a busy little bee today. After breakfast she was off to ceramics class to put the final touches on her plate before it is fired. Then she came back to hear my talk (award: gold cross with clusters for service above and beyond the call). Then she headed up to Deck 17 and the Skywalker Lounge to take a crocheting class. In her absence I had a pub lunch. The steak restaurant, during days at sea offers a limited menu of foods that might be found in a pub. The first one was a Scottish pub, and today was an English pub. I ate alone, with Bonnie off crafting, and had a great plate of bangers and mashed (for you non-pub crawlers, that is sausage and mashed potatoes).
The crewman assigned to the crocheting class confessed to the assembled throng that he didn’t have a clue about crocheting, but he was good at passing things out. A kit was provided with all of the supplies and Bonnie finished a neat little clutch purse.
There was a little bit of ship board intrigue today. All of the elevators amidships were closed because of a flood. No, not a leak, but a flood. It seems as when they filled one of the major spas, there was a leak, and water went down the shaft (all you Trekkers out there mimic Montgomery Scott from the fifth movie). Well, they got it all dried out, and all is well.
An interesting point about life in officers’ quarters. Virtually everywhere you walk on the ship there is some act of maintenance taking place. Painting railings, changing lights, vacuuming, and so on. All of the wooden hand rails that circle the decks are being refinished – the old varnish is scraped off, the wood is sanded, and new varnish is applied. I mention officers’ quarters because this wood working is taking place in the hall leading to our cabin. One of the many things that is taken for granted, or ignored altogether.
In all of our dining room meals so far we have elected to share a table with other folks, and except for one guy who had been there more often and done it better than any of the rest of us and gloried in telling us, we’ve had great table companions. This morning for breakfast we elected to get a table for two, and enjoyed a meal together. Our servers for the meal were from Ukraine, and the lady was quite chatty, her gentleman co-worker was efficient, but didn’t say much. Bonnie had to hurry off to make her ceramics class, and I stayed to finish one more cup of coffee. We forgot to pick up Bonnie’s bottle of Hershey chocolate syrup and take it with us, so I made a quick dash back and was able to retrieve it. Bon often has hot chocolate, but they make it very weak, and she bumps it up with a generous squeeze.
Tomorrow we are going to take a four hour guided tour of Grenada. Didn’t Clint Eastwood invade Grenada some years back? I know it wasn’t John Wayne. Oh well. TTFN!
BTW: The pictures in today’s posting are a few more shots from Curacao.
Bonnie has been a busy little bee today. After breakfast she was off to ceramics class to put the final touches on her plate before it is fired. Then she came back to hear my talk (award: gold cross with clusters for service above and beyond the call). Then she headed up to Deck 17 and the Skywalker Lounge to take a crocheting class. In her absence I had a pub lunch. The steak restaurant, during days at sea offers a limited menu of foods that might be found in a pub. The first one was a Scottish pub, and today was an English pub. I ate alone, with Bonnie off crafting, and had a great plate of bangers and mashed (for you non-pub crawlers, that is sausage and mashed potatoes).
The crewman assigned to the crocheting class confessed to the assembled throng that he didn’t have a clue about crocheting, but he was good at passing things out. A kit was provided with all of the supplies and Bonnie finished a neat little clutch purse.
There was a little bit of ship board intrigue today. All of the elevators amidships were closed because of a flood. No, not a leak, but a flood. It seems as when they filled one of the major spas, there was a leak, and water went down the shaft (all you Trekkers out there mimic Montgomery Scott from the fifth movie). Well, they got it all dried out, and all is well.
An interesting point about life in officers’ quarters. Virtually everywhere you walk on the ship there is some act of maintenance taking place. Painting railings, changing lights, vacuuming, and so on. All of the wooden hand rails that circle the decks are being refinished – the old varnish is scraped off, the wood is sanded, and new varnish is applied. I mention officers’ quarters because this wood working is taking place in the hall leading to our cabin. One of the many things that is taken for granted, or ignored altogether.
In all of our dining room meals so far we have elected to share a table with other folks, and except for one guy who had been there more often and done it better than any of the rest of us and gloried in telling us, we’ve had great table companions. This morning for breakfast we elected to get a table for two, and enjoyed a meal together. Our servers for the meal were from Ukraine, and the lady was quite chatty, her gentleman co-worker was efficient, but didn’t say much. Bonnie had to hurry off to make her ceramics class, and I stayed to finish one more cup of coffee. We forgot to pick up Bonnie’s bottle of Hershey chocolate syrup and take it with us, so I made a quick dash back and was able to retrieve it. Bon often has hot chocolate, but they make it very weak, and she bumps it up with a generous squeeze.
Tomorrow we are going to take a four hour guided tour of Grenada. Didn’t Clint Eastwood invade Grenada some years back? I know it wasn’t John Wayne. Oh well. TTFN!
Friday, October 15, 2010
Friday
We got an early start to the day, up at 6:30, had breakfast, and then headed into Curacao around 8.
We spent 4 hours toodling around Willemstad, the capital city of a nation that was formed less than a week ago. Curacao had been part of the Netherland Antilles, but last year voted to become an independent nation, and Sunday, October 10 was their independence day. There have been very cordial relations between the nations of the Netherland Antilles and the Dutch, but the time for change had come.
One of my talks was about Curacao, and so there were several places in Willemstad that we wanted to see.
Willemstad has two main sections, the Punda (translates as “the point”) and the Otrobanda (translates as “the other side”). Our ship docked at the Mega Port, an anchorage for large ships, at the Otrobanda, so we headed for the Queen Emma bridge, a pontoon bridge that links both sides of the city across Santa Anna Bay. When we got to the bridge it was closed because a ship wanted to come out. When this happens, the bridge is closed at both ends and two large ships motors power it across the bay to the Otrobanda. When the ship clears, the bridge returns to the Punda.
The first version of the bridge was built more than 100 years ago as a toll bridge. If you were poor, you did not have to pay. You demonstrated your diminished financial capacity by going barefooted. Well, the poor did not want to be identified as poor, so they borrowed shoes, and the rich, not wanting to spend the money, went barefooted. The toll was eliminated when the current bridge – the third – was constructed in 1939.
One of the unique features of this very uncaribbean city is the brightly painted houses. If you have seen Rainbow Row in Charleston, you have an idea. But this is the whole town. They used to paint the buildings white, but in 1817 the governor complained that the sun’s reflection gave him headaches, and so the current paint scheme was adopted.
One of the places we wanted to see was the Postal Museum that has a collection of stamps from throughout the Netherlands Antilles, and a rotating exhibit that is changed every four months. We set off in the general direction, and when it did not pop into our view, we asked a policeman for assistance. We were close, but close only counts in horseshoes, quoits, hand grenades, or atomic bombs. Following his directions, we continued our quest. Sadly, the museum is closed for repairs.
The second stop on our wandering was the Mikve Israel-Emmanuel Synagogue (the yellow building), the oldest continuing house of Jewish worship in the Western Hemisphere. I was required to wear a yamuka to enter the sanctuary.
One of the most interesting things about this beautiful house of worship is the sand floors. Hundreds of years ago when Jews were being persecuted in Spain, they began constructing their synagogues in this fashion so as not to be heard going about their worship. The local congregation put in sand floors for that reason, and also as a reminder of the 40 years they wandered in the wilderness under Moses’ leadership. The congregation has several Torah which are hundreds of years old, but they were not on display today.
You have probably been with Bonnie when she has spied a coin in a parking lot, or on the street. With total disregard for her safety or her dignity, she bends over and picks it up. Today she found Netherlands Antilles coin with the denomination 5 on it. You’d’ve thought she found a hundred bucks.
Back on the ship, we had lunch with two couples from Canada, one from Calgary, and the other from Montreal. I forgot to ask the Calgary couple if they knew the Hart family, but the husband is a retired elementary principal, and his wife is a PK and the mother of Pks.
After lunch it was nap time, and then we booked a sight-seeing tour for Grenada, our next port of call – the young lady who helped me is from Ukraine, and it was neat hearing that accent and speaking a few words to her. We have a day at sea tomorrow, and so I will give my third talk, this one about Barbados.
Oh, one last thing. If you need to go to the potty in Curacao, you must pay for the privilege. The price ranges between 50 cents and one dollar. I remember handing over rubles for the privilege in Russia, and being supplied with two squares of toilet paper. They are more generous in Curacao.
Until tomorrow then. TTFN!
We spent 4 hours toodling around Willemstad, the capital city of a nation that was formed less than a week ago. Curacao had been part of the Netherland Antilles, but last year voted to become an independent nation, and Sunday, October 10 was their independence day. There have been very cordial relations between the nations of the Netherland Antilles and the Dutch, but the time for change had come.
One of my talks was about Curacao, and so there were several places in Willemstad that we wanted to see.
The first version of the bridge was built more than 100 years ago as a toll bridge. If you were poor, you did not have to pay. You demonstrated your diminished financial capacity by going barefooted. Well, the poor did not want to be identified as poor, so they borrowed shoes, and the rich, not wanting to spend the money, went barefooted. The toll was eliminated when the current bridge – the third – was constructed in 1939.
One of the unique features of this very uncaribbean city is the brightly painted houses. If you have seen Rainbow Row in Charleston, you have an idea. But this is the whole town. They used to paint the buildings white, but in 1817 the governor complained that the sun’s reflection gave him headaches, and so the current paint scheme was adopted.
One of the places we wanted to see was the Postal Museum that has a collection of stamps from throughout the Netherlands Antilles, and a rotating exhibit that is changed every four months. We set off in the general direction, and when it did not pop into our view, we asked a policeman for assistance. We were close, but close only counts in horseshoes, quoits, hand grenades, or atomic bombs. Following his directions, we continued our quest. Sadly, the museum is closed for repairs.
The second stop on our wandering was the Mikve Israel-Emmanuel Synagogue (the yellow building), the oldest continuing house of Jewish worship in the Western Hemisphere. I was required to wear a yamuka to enter the sanctuary.
One of the most interesting things about this beautiful house of worship is the sand floors. Hundreds of years ago when Jews were being persecuted in Spain, they began constructing their synagogues in this fashion so as not to be heard going about their worship. The local congregation put in sand floors for that reason, and also as a reminder of the 40 years they wandered in the wilderness under Moses’ leadership. The congregation has several Torah which are hundreds of years old, but they were not on display today.
You have probably been with Bonnie when she has spied a coin in a parking lot, or on the street. With total disregard for her safety or her dignity, she bends over and picks it up. Today she found Netherlands Antilles coin with the denomination 5 on it. You’d’ve thought she found a hundred bucks.
Back on the ship, we had lunch with two couples from Canada, one from Calgary, and the other from Montreal. I forgot to ask the Calgary couple if they knew the Hart family, but the husband is a retired elementary principal, and his wife is a PK and the mother of Pks.
After lunch it was nap time, and then we booked a sight-seeing tour for Grenada, our next port of call – the young lady who helped me is from Ukraine, and it was neat hearing that accent and speaking a few words to her. We have a day at sea tomorrow, and so I will give my third talk, this one about Barbados.
Oh, one last thing. If you need to go to the potty in Curacao, you must pay for the privilege. The price ranges between 50 cents and one dollar. I remember handing over rubles for the privilege in Russia, and being supplied with two squares of toilet paper. They are more generous in Curacao.
Until tomorrow then. TTFN!
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Thursday
Two immediate observations at our first port of call.
One: I can remove Aruba from my bucket list. More accurately, I can put it on my list of been there, done that, and Bonnie bought T-shirts. I am thoroughly unimpressed with Aruba. If you like white sandy beaches (all of them are public, including those in front of millionaires homes), clear blue water, and burning your skin in the sun (no matter how heavy the sun screen, it is still burnt skin) then this is the place for you. If there are historical sites, museums, galleries, etc., they are well-hidden!
Researching for this cruise I looked for something more than swimming and shopping in a tourist district filled with uninspired and uninspiring souvenirs. There was one unique item. It seems the Arubans, when they get new license plates for their cars, they turn in the old ones, and junk dealers, souvenir shops, American pickers, etc., gather them up to sell to aging, overweight tourists. I looked through the multitude of license plates scattered throughout the shopping district for 2009 tags. That year they were black and gold. All together now! “Here we go Steelers! Here we go!” To have completed the purchase it’s registration number had to be 1701. I found 1751. And so I bought nothing.
Two: I have threatened to leave Bonnie on Barbados – punishment for general bad behavior. Well, today, she almost got herself arrested.
We had taken a tour in a glass bottom boat to view a sunken ship, beautiful coral, and colorful fish. Our tour boat captain paralleled beautiful beaches and exquisite homes (starting in the $750,000 neighborhood – some neighborhood – and some are for sale). We sailed past the California Light House, a structure more than 100 years old, and named after merchant ship which sunk in the area.
After the tour, the bus dropped us in the shopping district, and as we were working our way up one street of jewelry stores advertising bargains, and noticing many shops on the other side of the street, Bonnie said, “Can we cross here?” Well, it was in the middle of a heavily driven street, and she stepped on the curb reading to jaywalk. From behind us came the shrill sound of a policeman’s whistle, and as we turned around we saw a man dressed in the traditional accutruments of law enforcement. He pointed a finger at Bonnie and said, “Ma’am, there is across walk just down there.” As we headed towards the official crossing place, I glanced back and he was watching us, to see if we would try it again. We did not.
Returning to the ship, we headed for the DaVinci dining room, only to be told that power had been off in their galley and we would have to search elsewhere for victuals. Ah, the good old Horizon Court. Yummy food, and a wide variety of choices. Lunch was quickly followed by nap time.
Later we toodled down to the Explorers Lounge for a game of trivial pursuit. Actually, not trivial pursuit, at least not the kind that I have ever seen. The young entertainment guy read 19 questions to us, and your Humble Scribe and the Wife of His Youth, scored a respectable 9 (top score was 14, and it was done by a team of six). Don’t make fun. Nine out of nineteen is better than 50 percent, and if Aki Iwamora had done that well with a baseball bat, he’d still be playing for the Pirates rather than toiling in the minor leagues (but if you are guaranteed 4.5 million dollars, you can suffer a little).
Okay, you try it:
1) What object did the 2007 Barbie Doll have that the original did not?
2) Ten year old Liza Minelli introduced what classic movie the first time it came on television?
3) With what substance is fried chicken stuffed so that it will appear more appetizing in commercials: (a) jello, (b) mashed potatoes, or (c) water.
4) What gas in Swiss Cheese makes its characteristic holes?
5) What poisonous creature, found in California grapes, caused New Zealand to ban all future shipments?
Well, in about an hour we set sail for Curacao, and I am definitely excited.
One: I can remove Aruba from my bucket list. More accurately, I can put it on my list of been there, done that, and Bonnie bought T-shirts. I am thoroughly unimpressed with Aruba. If you like white sandy beaches (all of them are public, including those in front of millionaires homes), clear blue water, and burning your skin in the sun (no matter how heavy the sun screen, it is still burnt skin) then this is the place for you. If there are historical sites, museums, galleries, etc., they are well-hidden!
Researching for this cruise I looked for something more than swimming and shopping in a tourist district filled with uninspired and uninspiring souvenirs. There was one unique item. It seems the Arubans, when they get new license plates for their cars, they turn in the old ones, and junk dealers, souvenir shops, American pickers, etc., gather them up to sell to aging, overweight tourists. I looked through the multitude of license plates scattered throughout the shopping district for 2009 tags. That year they were black and gold. All together now! “Here we go Steelers! Here we go!” To have completed the purchase it’s registration number had to be 1701. I found 1751. And so I bought nothing.
Two: I have threatened to leave Bonnie on Barbados – punishment for general bad behavior. Well, today, she almost got herself arrested.
We had taken a tour in a glass bottom boat to view a sunken ship, beautiful coral, and colorful fish. Our tour boat captain paralleled beautiful beaches and exquisite homes (starting in the $750,000 neighborhood – some neighborhood – and some are for sale). We sailed past the California Light House, a structure more than 100 years old, and named after merchant ship which sunk in the area.
After the tour, the bus dropped us in the shopping district, and as we were working our way up one street of jewelry stores advertising bargains, and noticing many shops on the other side of the street, Bonnie said, “Can we cross here?” Well, it was in the middle of a heavily driven street, and she stepped on the curb reading to jaywalk. From behind us came the shrill sound of a policeman’s whistle, and as we turned around we saw a man dressed in the traditional accutruments of law enforcement. He pointed a finger at Bonnie and said, “Ma’am, there is across walk just down there.” As we headed towards the official crossing place, I glanced back and he was watching us, to see if we would try it again. We did not.
Returning to the ship, we headed for the DaVinci dining room, only to be told that power had been off in their galley and we would have to search elsewhere for victuals. Ah, the good old Horizon Court. Yummy food, and a wide variety of choices. Lunch was quickly followed by nap time.
Later we toodled down to the Explorers Lounge for a game of trivial pursuit. Actually, not trivial pursuit, at least not the kind that I have ever seen. The young entertainment guy read 19 questions to us, and your Humble Scribe and the Wife of His Youth, scored a respectable 9 (top score was 14, and it was done by a team of six). Don’t make fun. Nine out of nineteen is better than 50 percent, and if Aki Iwamora had done that well with a baseball bat, he’d still be playing for the Pirates rather than toiling in the minor leagues (but if you are guaranteed 4.5 million dollars, you can suffer a little).
Okay, you try it:
1) What object did the 2007 Barbie Doll have that the original did not?
2) Ten year old Liza Minelli introduced what classic movie the first time it came on television?
3) With what substance is fried chicken stuffed so that it will appear more appetizing in commercials: (a) jello, (b) mashed potatoes, or (c) water.
4) What gas in Swiss Cheese makes its characteristic holes?
5) What poisonous creature, found in California grapes, caused New Zealand to ban all future shipments?
Well, in about an hour we set sail for Curacao, and I am definitely excited.
Wednesday, October 13, 2010
Wednesday
Our dinner companions last night were delightful people.
To my right were David and Judith (my little brother might find something amusing in those names from our past). They hail from the United Kingdom. Several years ago, not waiting for his employer of several years to collapse and blame “W” David started a washing machine repair business. I told him about my adventures fixing our washer and he applauded it as a job well done.
To their right were Tina and Bruno. A young couple on their honeymoon, she the only daughter of wealthy parents, they regaled us with the grandeur of their wedding. Bruno has a very familiar face. Tonight I am going to ask him if he has appeared on television or in movies, of if perhaps, he is a member of the WWE. I swear, I’ve seen him somewhere before.
On around the table, putting them to Bonnie’s immediate left were Richard and Sue. Sue is a hairdresser. Dick is retired from outside sales.
The three couples had been together on Monday night, and we were the New Kids at the Table. So introductions were made all around. Last night was also the first formal night of the cruise (the only other one will be on the last sea day as we head for Fort Lauderdale).
Speaking of food, we ate breakfast with two ladies, sisters, from Maryland – and in the general Baltimore region (they didn’t have a clue where Oakland was, nor that it originally received only two television stations, half of them being KDKA – when I mentioned the Wisp Ski Area, they allowed as how they knew where I meant). Sylvia is the professional cruiser in that duo, and Jamie, her sister is a retired elementary school principle. Jamie and Bonnie regaled each other with horror stories from their working days and both agreed they were glad they were out of the harness.
Bonnie hustled off to ceramics class (where she is making a large dinner plate, colored in green and yellow and featuring characters from “Finding Nemo” on eating surface – the crafters had to come up with their own designs – I’m not sure the logic behind those choices, but she is having fun with it). As Bonnie left, she placed me in the care of the sisters, knowing that my honor was safe.
Sylvia told a story on herself and her husband, Tommy, from an earlier cruise, perhaps the only cruise he’s accompanied her. If the Bro had been listening to the story, he and I would have fallen convulsively into the floor (and it was better in the telling, I’m afraid, than it is in the reporting).
Tommy is pushing 70, and while shopping with her on Jamaica stopped to rest. Sylvia told Tommy to go back to the ship, take her purchases, and she would keep shopping. He agreed to the suggestion and before he left her, Sylvia recruited two younger ladies, 40-somethings, to make sure Tommy got back to the ship. That night at supper, without a single word being told of his afternoon and evening before Sylvia got back, Tommy said, “My name is Dimples!” Stunned at this unexpected revelation, Sylvia pulled the details of his day out into the open. He had paid for a taxi cab to get the trio back to the ship, and then they had spent most of the rest of the time buying rounds of drink. The 40-somethings said when he laughed he had amazing “Dimples.” I don’t think Tommy is allowed to come on cruises anymore, and certainly if he did, would never be placed in the company of unattached females.
My talk this morning on Curacao was well-received, and a number of people in the audience asked questions. One man, offering a comment – since he’s been here, done that – gave me a third explanation for the name of the island (There was a guy at the “Pirates of the Caribbean” talk who told me things I should have added).
One suggestion is the name comes from the Portugese for healing, since sailors stopping there and eating the local fruit would get large doses of vitamin C which would heal their scurvy. Another suggestion comes from the Spanish name for heart, since the island kind of, sort of looks like a heart.
The new explanation is great. In the early days when Spanish fortune hunters would be exploring for gold, it was the rule of the Spanish authorities that a priest be on station. The benefits of having a spiritual presence was obvious. On one such mining expedition, however, the miners and the priest were slaughtered by the indigenous population. These particular natives were cannibals, and years later several pieces of armor, a few tools, and one set of bones were discovered. The bones, found in what appeared to be a cook pit, were believed to be those of the priest – because of several pieces of religious jewelry that were found along side of the bones. The explorers who made this grisly find named the island “Cura Asado” which through careless usage became Curaçao. The Spanish translates as “Baked Priest.”
After supper tonight, hopefully free of baked clergy, your friendly neighborhood cruisers are going to see “Comedy Showtime” staring ventriloquist Brad Cummings. If they can stay awake.
Tomorrow we explore Aruba.
To my right were David and Judith (my little brother might find something amusing in those names from our past). They hail from the United Kingdom. Several years ago, not waiting for his employer of several years to collapse and blame “W” David started a washing machine repair business. I told him about my adventures fixing our washer and he applauded it as a job well done.
To their right were Tina and Bruno. A young couple on their honeymoon, she the only daughter of wealthy parents, they regaled us with the grandeur of their wedding. Bruno has a very familiar face. Tonight I am going to ask him if he has appeared on television or in movies, of if perhaps, he is a member of the WWE. I swear, I’ve seen him somewhere before.
On around the table, putting them to Bonnie’s immediate left were Richard and Sue. Sue is a hairdresser. Dick is retired from outside sales.
The three couples had been together on Monday night, and we were the New Kids at the Table. So introductions were made all around. Last night was also the first formal night of the cruise (the only other one will be on the last sea day as we head for Fort Lauderdale).
Speaking of food, we ate breakfast with two ladies, sisters, from Maryland – and in the general Baltimore region (they didn’t have a clue where Oakland was, nor that it originally received only two television stations, half of them being KDKA – when I mentioned the Wisp Ski Area, they allowed as how they knew where I meant). Sylvia is the professional cruiser in that duo, and Jamie, her sister is a retired elementary school principle. Jamie and Bonnie regaled each other with horror stories from their working days and both agreed they were glad they were out of the harness.
Bonnie hustled off to ceramics class (where she is making a large dinner plate, colored in green and yellow and featuring characters from “Finding Nemo” on eating surface – the crafters had to come up with their own designs – I’m not sure the logic behind those choices, but she is having fun with it). As Bonnie left, she placed me in the care of the sisters, knowing that my honor was safe.
Sylvia told a story on herself and her husband, Tommy, from an earlier cruise, perhaps the only cruise he’s accompanied her. If the Bro had been listening to the story, he and I would have fallen convulsively into the floor (and it was better in the telling, I’m afraid, than it is in the reporting).
Tommy is pushing 70, and while shopping with her on Jamaica stopped to rest. Sylvia told Tommy to go back to the ship, take her purchases, and she would keep shopping. He agreed to the suggestion and before he left her, Sylvia recruited two younger ladies, 40-somethings, to make sure Tommy got back to the ship. That night at supper, without a single word being told of his afternoon and evening before Sylvia got back, Tommy said, “My name is Dimples!” Stunned at this unexpected revelation, Sylvia pulled the details of his day out into the open. He had paid for a taxi cab to get the trio back to the ship, and then they had spent most of the rest of the time buying rounds of drink. The 40-somethings said when he laughed he had amazing “Dimples.” I don’t think Tommy is allowed to come on cruises anymore, and certainly if he did, would never be placed in the company of unattached females.
My talk this morning on Curacao was well-received, and a number of people in the audience asked questions. One man, offering a comment – since he’s been here, done that – gave me a third explanation for the name of the island (There was a guy at the “Pirates of the Caribbean” talk who told me things I should have added).
One suggestion is the name comes from the Portugese for healing, since sailors stopping there and eating the local fruit would get large doses of vitamin C which would heal their scurvy. Another suggestion comes from the Spanish name for heart, since the island kind of, sort of looks like a heart.
The new explanation is great. In the early days when Spanish fortune hunters would be exploring for gold, it was the rule of the Spanish authorities that a priest be on station. The benefits of having a spiritual presence was obvious. On one such mining expedition, however, the miners and the priest were slaughtered by the indigenous population. These particular natives were cannibals, and years later several pieces of armor, a few tools, and one set of bones were discovered. The bones, found in what appeared to be a cook pit, were believed to be those of the priest – because of several pieces of religious jewelry that were found along side of the bones. The explorers who made this grisly find named the island “Cura Asado” which through careless usage became Curaçao. The Spanish translates as “Baked Priest.”
After supper tonight, hopefully free of baked clergy, your friendly neighborhood cruisers are going to see “Comedy Showtime” staring ventriloquist Brad Cummings. If they can stay awake.
Tomorrow we explore Aruba.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Tuesday
Tuesday
First of all, let me bring you up to date on the Sisler Luggage. It arrived in our stateroom around 7 p.m, filled with way too many clothes, and clean underwear for the duration. Earlier in the afternoon, our cabin steward, Jismon, asked if there was anything he could do for us, and we said, “Find our luggage.” Off he went, and when we got back from supper, Viola!
Another housekeeping update from yesterday. When we got to our cabin, in officer’s quarters, we discovered that the traditional plastic cards with the magnetic strip would not open our stateroom. This door takes a regular old key. And said key was no where to be found. A search of several decks and interviews with several officers produced a response that caused me to raise eyebrow – logical, flawlessly logical. “Push on the door and see if it opens. Those keys are to be left in the cabin for the next Destination Lecturer.” We went back to our room and pushed on the door – and would you believe it? The door was unlocked and the keys were on the desk.
One of the first purchase we made on the ship (after Bonnie’s Coca Cola card and my coffee card) was the purchase of an Internet account. If you think your dial-up connection or your cable modem are expensive, join us here on the Grand Princess. Random use is 75 cents per minute. I bought a package which lowered it to 30 cents a minute. Divided by our 14 day stay, that gives me about 30 minutes a day online, so no web surfing or online game playing.
We went to one of the dining rooms for breakfast this morning and asked to be seated with other people so we could enjoy the fellowship of other travelers. Tom and Jane are from Chicago, and Helen and Jim (“Your name is Jim”) hail from the Left Coast, somewhere near to Pasadena. Helen is an episcopal priest, and Jim is a clergy spouse. Jane runs a health spa and Tom is a management consultant. For breakfast, I had eggs scrambled with Alaskan salmon. Tom ordered eggs benedict with Hollandaise sauce. And yes! I told them “The Hub Cap Joke.” Their appreciation was on a par with many of the good folks at Macedonia. If we see them again, I will tell them about the little princess potato wanting to marry Tom Brokaw.
I did my “Pirates of the Caribbean” talk this morning. At one point I was listing the places where Pirates had called home – the Dutch, Welsh, Irish, British, etc. I told them one of the most famous Pirates ever hailed from Puerto Rico. Roberto got a well-deserved round of applause. I concluded with the story of an Irish Pirate captain who was aided by a Polish member of his crew in crushing dread invaders from the North. Danny Murtaugh and Bill Mazeroski and the victory of the Pirates of Pittsburgh over the Yankees of New York.
Tonight we will go to our first formal meal function, joining the good folks at Botticelli’s for the second seating. Menu to follow tomorrow.
First of all, let me bring you up to date on the Sisler Luggage. It arrived in our stateroom around 7 p.m, filled with way too many clothes, and clean underwear for the duration. Earlier in the afternoon, our cabin steward, Jismon, asked if there was anything he could do for us, and we said, “Find our luggage.” Off he went, and when we got back from supper, Viola!
Another housekeeping update from yesterday. When we got to our cabin, in officer’s quarters, we discovered that the traditional plastic cards with the magnetic strip would not open our stateroom. This door takes a regular old key. And said key was no where to be found. A search of several decks and interviews with several officers produced a response that caused me to raise eyebrow – logical, flawlessly logical. “Push on the door and see if it opens. Those keys are to be left in the cabin for the next Destination Lecturer.” We went back to our room and pushed on the door – and would you believe it? The door was unlocked and the keys were on the desk.
One of the first purchase we made on the ship (after Bonnie’s Coca Cola card and my coffee card) was the purchase of an Internet account. If you think your dial-up connection or your cable modem are expensive, join us here on the Grand Princess. Random use is 75 cents per minute. I bought a package which lowered it to 30 cents a minute. Divided by our 14 day stay, that gives me about 30 minutes a day online, so no web surfing or online game playing.
We went to one of the dining rooms for breakfast this morning and asked to be seated with other people so we could enjoy the fellowship of other travelers. Tom and Jane are from Chicago, and Helen and Jim (“Your name is Jim”) hail from the Left Coast, somewhere near to Pasadena. Helen is an episcopal priest, and Jim is a clergy spouse. Jane runs a health spa and Tom is a management consultant. For breakfast, I had eggs scrambled with Alaskan salmon. Tom ordered eggs benedict with Hollandaise sauce. And yes! I told them “The Hub Cap Joke.” Their appreciation was on a par with many of the good folks at Macedonia. If we see them again, I will tell them about the little princess potato wanting to marry Tom Brokaw.
I did my “Pirates of the Caribbean” talk this morning. At one point I was listing the places where Pirates had called home – the Dutch, Welsh, Irish, British, etc. I told them one of the most famous Pirates ever hailed from Puerto Rico. Roberto got a well-deserved round of applause. I concluded with the story of an Irish Pirate captain who was aided by a Polish member of his crew in crushing dread invaders from the North. Danny Murtaugh and Bill Mazeroski and the victory of the Pirates of Pittsburgh over the Yankees of New York.
Tonight we will go to our first formal meal function, joining the good folks at Botticelli’s for the second seating. Menu to follow tomorrow.
Monday, October 11, 2010
Monday
After waiting in line for over an hour with the great unwashed, watching the elite and other super passengers pass through into the great beyond, Bonnie and I were finally allowed to enter another waiting area. There a wonderful man named Domino looked at my boarding letter, and said sign here, and go there. In five minutes we were in the ship, looking for our stateroom.
We are once again in officer’s quarters, but this time we are actually above the water line, and we have a port hole – a rather big window to be exact. We do not have our luggage yet, so we may be washing our clothes in the sink each night, but hopefully before too much longer our four suitcases will arrive at stateroom 7125. How in the world can two people take four suitcases for 14 days? How many pair of underwear does one need? Turn them inside out and you only need 7, right? Oh well.
The ship sails in 2 minutes so we are going up on deck. When our luggage arrives, I will take some pictures and attempt to post them.
We are once again in officer’s quarters, but this time we are actually above the water line, and we have a port hole – a rather big window to be exact. We do not have our luggage yet, so we may be washing our clothes in the sink each night, but hopefully before too much longer our four suitcases will arrive at stateroom 7125. How in the world can two people take four suitcases for 14 days? How many pair of underwear does one need? Turn them inside out and you only need 7, right? Oh well.
The ship sails in 2 minutes so we are going up on deck. When our luggage arrives, I will take some pictures and attempt to post them.
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