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!
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