We are back in the states, and there is an interesting little bit of karma to relate. Beause I had reported my passport stolen, Princess received an immigration alert on me, and we had to be escorted off the boat by a Princess rep and be personally handed over to an immigration officer. This was no big deal, as they just wanted to verify what had happened and be sure that it was me bearing the replacement passport, but it meant we got to go to the head of an hour long customs line. The old folks were foaming at the mouth as we sailed past them. Jene heard several cries of "Why are they special?" and "They aren't using a wheelchair!" Don't mess with retirees in a line. There was a near riot getting back on the tenders in Cannes when a port officer tried to speed things up by creating a second line. Anyway, we had armed escort at this point, and were able to sail through without the character building benefits of the line. C'est la Vie!
It was a wonderful trip, we had a great time, and while we won't do it again soon, we will do it again.
Thursday, October 25, 2007
Catchup post: The Bermuda Triangle
As we sail through the Bermuda Triangle, I can take the opportunity to reflect on some of the stranger things we have seen on board, in addition to the stripper cowboys. Plastic surgery is rather common among the women on board, and some of them have had one or two too many. I am sure we have all seen chocolate fountains, and probably even a champagne fountain. Princess has perfected the ham fountain. This alone is reason to mourn the loss of the camera in Lisbon, as a picture is worth a thousand words, but I can try. Imagine a silver tea service tray of the type you use to serve cakes. These typically have several tiers to them, in order to serve multiple types of cakes. In this case however, glistening slices of prociutto line the trays, and quite deliberately hang over the sides. Ham fountain. Indeed.
Not all that is strange need be avoided however. Every night there were movies under the stars, some good, some not so good, but all were attended by the cooking guy. His job was to pass a basket of chocoloate chip cookies around, and then offer you milk to accompany them from a presurized backpack like some sort of dairy Gunga Din. The backpack even had a cup dispenser.
We also took the time to get up on the bow of the ship (we did not do the king of the world thing) and stare ahead into the thunder storms that we would be sailing into. It was quite a view, quite a light show, and a nice way to cap off the experience, with the wind in our hair, the sea in our nostrils and the flash of lighting fading from our eyes.
Not all that is strange need be avoided however. Every night there were movies under the stars, some good, some not so good, but all were attended by the cooking guy. His job was to pass a basket of chocoloate chip cookies around, and then offer you milk to accompany them from a presurized backpack like some sort of dairy Gunga Din. The backpack even had a cup dispenser.
We also took the time to get up on the bow of the ship (we did not do the king of the world thing) and stare ahead into the thunder storms that we would be sailing into. It was quite a view, quite a light show, and a nice way to cap off the experience, with the wind in our hair, the sea in our nostrils and the flash of lighting fading from our eyes.
Catchup post: 5 Days at Sea
The days are running together a bit. I really have no idea what day it is, only that our trip is drawing to a close as we make our way across the Atlantic. The air is getting warmer and the seas are getting calmer, thus the sleeping is better. The side to side roll is more lulling us to sleep now than keeping me up. It was also great during a hot stone massage, where I am quite sure I fell asleep at least once, until the masseuse got to my lower back and the pain brought me out of it. That was short lived, as she worked out the kinks and I once again relaxed. Rough life, huh?
We have availed ourselves of the time to utterly relax, read, play scrabble, and try not to eat too many cookies (Vitamin C- its good for you) or any other of the vast amounts of truly awful for you food on this ship. We are having varying degrees of success. The fries we have mostly resisted, but the deserts are just too good. Whoever is baking on this ship knows their stuff. Rough life, huh?
We have also availed ourselves of the Casino, actually recovered the cash that was stolen in Lisbon at the Three Card Poker table, lost it the next day at the Let It Ride table and are looking to bring it back up again tonight. The Casino is pretty relaxed, and we have managed to learn a few new games. I did play Craps the first few nights (up, down, up, half down) but for the most part the craps table has seemed to be very low energy, and we have been having more fun with cards. Rough life, huh?
Word that we were pick pocketed has gotten around the ship. We did tell the story that first night at dinner, but apparently some of those folks met up with some other folks who has met us, and they were talking about those honeymooners from Denver, and did you hear they were robbed in Lisbon? People we have barely met have asked if we are those honeymooners from Denver who were robbed, and isn’t it awful and they are so sorry that we had that happen. It is kind of funny and really rather sweet that we are being gossiped about, in addition to being sympathized with. It is like having a ship full of grandmothers clucking their tongues in sympathy, and grandfathers telling us next time to leave the passports on the ship, and to be careful in the metro. Yes Pop…
The scenery has been fairly repetitive, but the sea has offered some things worth seeing. The first full day, when the wind was high and seas was rough, you could see at least four distinct textures or scales of waves, from tiny ripples across the surface which made the whole thing seem pixilated, to large wave forms that were 100 feet across. In effect you had a dimple 100 feet across and 5 feet deep, with 2 foot high waves running through it, that were in turn dimpled with 6 inch deep pockets and tiny ripples running over that. I suppose that makes me a geek, but it was pretty cool. Also, I woke up early this morning, and saw that the sun was just starting to think about lighting up the sky to the east. I went outside on the deck (with robe, you never know who will be up) and found that I could still see a whole bunch of stars, Jupiter brighter than I have ever seen, as well as two meteors and a satellite, in polar orbit no less. Needless to say it was quite clear and very spectacular. There were clouds on the horizon, and they looked great as the sky continued to light up. At this point, I really wish that I had a camera.
About the only thing that hasn’t been particularly stellar has been the entertainment. Yesterday we tried going to the matinee of the previous night’s production show “Boogie Shoes,” a “contemporary” rock show about shoes. OK…but we will give it a shot. It was horrible, and this was the show they were touting as the big one. We left after the 5th number, because I didn’t think that they could possibly do any better than the gay cowboys on stripper poles. I think they were trying to be provocative, but it was really just silly. So we will stick to the movies under the stars, the casino, and the various comic acts that make their way in an out. Rough life, huh.
We have availed ourselves of the time to utterly relax, read, play scrabble, and try not to eat too many cookies (Vitamin C- its good for you) or any other of the vast amounts of truly awful for you food on this ship. We are having varying degrees of success. The fries we have mostly resisted, but the deserts are just too good. Whoever is baking on this ship knows their stuff. Rough life, huh?
We have also availed ourselves of the Casino, actually recovered the cash that was stolen in Lisbon at the Three Card Poker table, lost it the next day at the Let It Ride table and are looking to bring it back up again tonight. The Casino is pretty relaxed, and we have managed to learn a few new games. I did play Craps the first few nights (up, down, up, half down) but for the most part the craps table has seemed to be very low energy, and we have been having more fun with cards. Rough life, huh?
Word that we were pick pocketed has gotten around the ship. We did tell the story that first night at dinner, but apparently some of those folks met up with some other folks who has met us, and they were talking about those honeymooners from Denver, and did you hear they were robbed in Lisbon? People we have barely met have asked if we are those honeymooners from Denver who were robbed, and isn’t it awful and they are so sorry that we had that happen. It is kind of funny and really rather sweet that we are being gossiped about, in addition to being sympathized with. It is like having a ship full of grandmothers clucking their tongues in sympathy, and grandfathers telling us next time to leave the passports on the ship, and to be careful in the metro. Yes Pop…
The scenery has been fairly repetitive, but the sea has offered some things worth seeing. The first full day, when the wind was high and seas was rough, you could see at least four distinct textures or scales of waves, from tiny ripples across the surface which made the whole thing seem pixilated, to large wave forms that were 100 feet across. In effect you had a dimple 100 feet across and 5 feet deep, with 2 foot high waves running through it, that were in turn dimpled with 6 inch deep pockets and tiny ripples running over that. I suppose that makes me a geek, but it was pretty cool. Also, I woke up early this morning, and saw that the sun was just starting to think about lighting up the sky to the east. I went outside on the deck (with robe, you never know who will be up) and found that I could still see a whole bunch of stars, Jupiter brighter than I have ever seen, as well as two meteors and a satellite, in polar orbit no less. Needless to say it was quite clear and very spectacular. There were clouds on the horizon, and they looked great as the sky continued to light up. At this point, I really wish that I had a camera.
About the only thing that hasn’t been particularly stellar has been the entertainment. Yesterday we tried going to the matinee of the previous night’s production show “Boogie Shoes,” a “contemporary” rock show about shoes. OK…but we will give it a shot. It was horrible, and this was the show they were touting as the big one. We left after the 5th number, because I didn’t think that they could possibly do any better than the gay cowboys on stripper poles. I think they were trying to be provocative, but it was really just silly. So we will stick to the movies under the stars, the casino, and the various comic acts that make their way in an out. Rough life, huh.
Catchup post: The Azores
You will notice that we are not posting any additional photos. Keep in mind the camera is now the property of some thief in Portugal. No doubt he has already fenced it, and some other thief is using it to fleece tourists in some way.
We arrived at the island of Sao Miguel, at the city of Ponta Delgada. Had a nice bus tour of the extinct volcano, got served some wine and cheese and hung out with one of the people we met at the beginning of the cruise, along with her parents. The wine and cheese were so good that we bought some, with every intention of eating and drinking both before returning to the states. Then we realized that we didn’t have a corkscrew, and the ship charges some ridiculous amount in order to cork the bottle. We will be on the lookout to beg, borrow or steal one. The city itself is really a small town with a Mediterranean flavor even though it is fairly far out into the Atlantic, about 700 miles from Lisbon. They are building a new cruise dock so that passengers can disembark without shuttle busses. This is a good idea. Of course, the new terminal is bound to attract pick pockets, but something tells me they deal with criminals swiftly and harshly on this island. It was idyllic however, and we had fun driving around, looking at the sights, and drinking coffee at the local café, which was made by our bus driver. Apparently he had barista privileges at this particular café. We also saw a church dedicated to St. Nicholas, one of the many that claim to have originated the concept of Santa Claus I am sure, which was unique, as the inside was covered in blue tiles like many of the Portuguese walls we have seen. We left fairly early and set out across the ocean. The night was relatively rough, as we experienced moderate seas (4-7 feet) and gale force winds. This resulted in a lot of up and down and side to side. Particularly the side to side as the ship is about 100 feet out of the water and 900 feet long. That is quite a sail for the wind to hit. This did not make us sick at all, but I find it rough sleeping with so much movement going on. Jene however, slept like a log, lucky her.
We arrived at the island of Sao Miguel, at the city of Ponta Delgada. Had a nice bus tour of the extinct volcano, got served some wine and cheese and hung out with one of the people we met at the beginning of the cruise, along with her parents. The wine and cheese were so good that we bought some, with every intention of eating and drinking both before returning to the states. Then we realized that we didn’t have a corkscrew, and the ship charges some ridiculous amount in order to cork the bottle. We will be on the lookout to beg, borrow or steal one. The city itself is really a small town with a Mediterranean flavor even though it is fairly far out into the Atlantic, about 700 miles from Lisbon. They are building a new cruise dock so that passengers can disembark without shuttle busses. This is a good idea. Of course, the new terminal is bound to attract pick pockets, but something tells me they deal with criminals swiftly and harshly on this island. It was idyllic however, and we had fun driving around, looking at the sights, and drinking coffee at the local café, which was made by our bus driver. Apparently he had barista privileges at this particular café. We also saw a church dedicated to St. Nicholas, one of the many that claim to have originated the concept of Santa Claus I am sure, which was unique, as the inside was covered in blue tiles like many of the Portuguese walls we have seen. We left fairly early and set out across the ocean. The night was relatively rough, as we experienced moderate seas (4-7 feet) and gale force winds. This resulted in a lot of up and down and side to side. Particularly the side to side as the ship is about 100 feet out of the water and 900 feet long. That is quite a sail for the wind to hit. This did not make us sick at all, but I find it rough sleeping with so much movement going on. Jene however, slept like a log, lucky her.
Catchup post: Having our brains examined at sea
The next day was at sea, as we made our way to the Azores. The highlight was without doubt the penulitimate in grouchy old folks that we encountered on the ship. We had elected to forego the 2nd formal night, and just eat at the buffet. We perhaps needed some comfort food after our experience in Lisbon. Regardless, after we had sat down and been there for several minutes, a couple in thier late 70s or early 80s sat down next to us, bickering the entire time about her pills. Apparently she had forgotten to take them, and he was berating her for not writing herself a note. Please keep in mind that, although he didn't actually say it, the phrase "You Old Hag!" could have been added to the end of every phrase he uttered and no one would have been surprised. He then tucked into his soup, only to drop his spoon and loudly proclaim "This soup is cold!" His wife informed him that of course it was cold, gespacho is always served cold. His response:
"Cold Soup! Whoever invented cold soup oughtta have his brain examined (you old hag!)!?!
"Then don't eat it!(old coot!)"
"I'm not eatin' it (harridan!)!!"
"Then get some more soup (codger!)!!
"I'm gettin' it (battleaxe!) !!
...and more of this sort of exchange. Nothing like seeing 50 years of joyful marriage to inspire newlyweds. Anyway, we actually found this quite comic, and had to work hard to keep from laughing, which I know is rude, but there you go (wrinkly old...). Jene and I became determined right then and there never to be these people.
"Cold Soup! Whoever invented cold soup oughtta have his brain examined (you old hag!)!?!
"Then don't eat it!(old coot!)"
"I'm not eatin' it (harridan!)!!"
"Then get some more soup (codger!)!!
"I'm gettin' it (battleaxe!) !!
...and more of this sort of exchange. Nothing like seeing 50 years of joyful marriage to inspire newlyweds. Anyway, we actually found this quite comic, and had to work hard to keep from laughing, which I know is rude, but there you go (wrinkly old...). Jene and I became determined right then and there never to be these people.
Catchup post: "Go Ahead Be Gone With It..."
I would like to say that Lisbon, Portugal was a great time where we saw all sorts of cool architecture, wandered quaint streets and heard Fado sung by street performers in the Alfama. Instead we had a tour of not one, but two police stations and then the US consulate as a result of me being pick pocketed on the Metro. We had gone to a place that was outside the city center called Nations Park, as there is a ton of really fantastic modern architecture there. On the way back, as we were transferring trains, we got caught in what turned out to be a very deliberate crush of people onto the train and the thieves managed to strip me of my camera, my wallet, my passport and license and some cash. They of course simply did not get on the train, thus my stuff was gone before I even realized it. I did an automatic check very shortly thereafter and nearly pummeled the guy behind me before he explained that the guy who robbed me had run. Most likely he was working with the thief, but he clearly did not have my stuff.
So there we were, me without any ID at all, poorer by our camera and way too much cash, and we don’t speak a word of Portuguese. Several folks on the train were quite helpful however, calling the metro cops (useless of course), and taking us to the right place to complain and get someone who spoke English. We were directed to the nearest police station, and after a bit they got someone who spoke a little bit of English, who made it clear that we had to go someplace where they spoke very good English, and (amazingly) that he was going to take us there. We then had a pretty surreal experience as we rode in the back of a Lisboa Police cruiser (Geo metro like and probably a hybrid), listening to Justin Timberlake (Bringing Sexy Back) on the radio while the cop tried to point out the sights. Too bad I no longer had my camera.
So we had our private, escorted and armed tour of Lisbon, all the way to the tourism police station, where they did in fact speak very good English. We were not the only ones however. It was a testament to the skill of the thieves that they had got my stuff out of my front pockets. One tourist at the station had lost his goods out of a zipped fanny pack that the thieves had bothered to re-zip. The criminal element in Portugal doesn’t mess around.
We filled out reports, and then were directed to the US consulate so that I could get a replacement passport. I confess I had absolutely no confidence that this would go smoothly, and I was not given any reason to change this attitude as we showed up only to be informed that the consulate was closed for lunch for another half hour. As we cooled our heels on the steps of the security shed, I had the chance to reflect and get really angry about what had happened, and then just be frustrated that there was not a thing I could have done about it, or could do about it now. Wrong place, wrong time, not paying enough attention and I got hit. It could have been worse, at least they didn’t get near Jene.
When the consulate finally opened, they subjected us to security that was tighter than many military bases I have been on, and brought us to the place where folks could help us. That is exactly what they did, as within an hour, I had filled out the correct forms, they had pulled my original passport ID pages off the computer, and we were being interviewed by the assistant consul as to what had happened. It took another half hour to print me a new passport (which is temporary. I have to apply for a new permanent one within 3 months of getting home) and call us a cab to take us back to the ship. During this time, being hungry, we availed ourselves of the candy machine. Most of the time when I am out of the county, I like to try the local cuisine, but I confess I was feeling a bit patriot at this point and went for the Kit Kat bars. Americans may be loud, generally rude, etc, but we do take care of our own when it counts. We hopped the taxi back to the ship, got me a new cruise ID as the thieves had nabbed that as well, cancelled my credit card (they had already tried to use it only 4 hours after it had been stolen) and then retired to the buffet for some much needed nutrition and a drink. So, I would like to tell you Lisbon was wonderful, but it was actually rather annoying. From now on I am only drinking Australian port. Screw Portugal.
So there we were, me without any ID at all, poorer by our camera and way too much cash, and we don’t speak a word of Portuguese. Several folks on the train were quite helpful however, calling the metro cops (useless of course), and taking us to the right place to complain and get someone who spoke English. We were directed to the nearest police station, and after a bit they got someone who spoke a little bit of English, who made it clear that we had to go someplace where they spoke very good English, and (amazingly) that he was going to take us there. We then had a pretty surreal experience as we rode in the back of a Lisboa Police cruiser (Geo metro like and probably a hybrid), listening to Justin Timberlake (Bringing Sexy Back) on the radio while the cop tried to point out the sights. Too bad I no longer had my camera.
So we had our private, escorted and armed tour of Lisbon, all the way to the tourism police station, where they did in fact speak very good English. We were not the only ones however. It was a testament to the skill of the thieves that they had got my stuff out of my front pockets. One tourist at the station had lost his goods out of a zipped fanny pack that the thieves had bothered to re-zip. The criminal element in Portugal doesn’t mess around.
We filled out reports, and then were directed to the US consulate so that I could get a replacement passport. I confess I had absolutely no confidence that this would go smoothly, and I was not given any reason to change this attitude as we showed up only to be informed that the consulate was closed for lunch for another half hour. As we cooled our heels on the steps of the security shed, I had the chance to reflect and get really angry about what had happened, and then just be frustrated that there was not a thing I could have done about it, or could do about it now. Wrong place, wrong time, not paying enough attention and I got hit. It could have been worse, at least they didn’t get near Jene.
When the consulate finally opened, they subjected us to security that was tighter than many military bases I have been on, and brought us to the place where folks could help us. That is exactly what they did, as within an hour, I had filled out the correct forms, they had pulled my original passport ID pages off the computer, and we were being interviewed by the assistant consul as to what had happened. It took another half hour to print me a new passport (which is temporary. I have to apply for a new permanent one within 3 months of getting home) and call us a cab to take us back to the ship. During this time, being hungry, we availed ourselves of the candy machine. Most of the time when I am out of the county, I like to try the local cuisine, but I confess I was feeling a bit patriot at this point and went for the Kit Kat bars. Americans may be loud, generally rude, etc, but we do take care of our own when it counts. We hopped the taxi back to the ship, got me a new cruise ID as the thieves had nabbed that as well, cancelled my credit card (they had already tried to use it only 4 hours after it had been stolen) and then retired to the buffet for some much needed nutrition and a drink. So, I would like to tell you Lisbon was wonderful, but it was actually rather annoying. From now on I am only drinking Australian port. Screw Portugal.
Catchup post: Toro!
We went to Seville today, and were quite impressed with the public spaces and gardens. We took an unguided tour, “Seville on your own” that brought us from Cadiz to Seville, past the world’s largest bull shaped bill board (they take their cow flesh seriously here in southern Spain) and into the heart of the city.
It then reminded me of elementary school, when half the class isn’t listening as the teacher gives instructions and then everyone shouts out. “What page is this?” We were to meet at three pm at map location 19, which the bus monitor quite diligently told us, only to be greeted by a chorus of “What time do we meet?” “What number on the map” or even more annoyingly” “Hey, What NUMBA!?” We beat a hasty retreat and then went to the Alcazar, the Alhambra of Seville. While waiting in line, one of the other folks on our bus came up to ask us how much the tickets were. We weren’t sure, but the guidebook said 7 Euros, and we were reasonably certain that was close. She thanked us, and then returned 2 minutes later, asking how long we had been waiting, and then proceeded to regale us with how long the line was, how far back they were in it, and we did have to meet at 3 after all.
It then reminded me of elementary school, when half the class isn’t listening as the teacher gives instructions and then everyone shouts out. “What page is this?” We were to meet at three pm at map location 19, which the bus monitor quite diligently told us, only to be greeted by a chorus of “What time do we meet?” “What number on the map” or even more annoyingly” “Hey, What NUMBA!?” We beat a hasty retreat and then went to the Alcazar, the Alhambra of Seville. While waiting in line, one of the other folks on our bus came up to ask us how much the tickets were. We weren’t sure, but the guidebook said 7 Euros, and we were reasonably certain that was close. She thanked us, and then returned 2 minutes later, asking how long we had been waiting, and then proceeded to regale us with how long the line was, how far back they were in it, and we did have to meet at 3 after all.
She was obviously angling to cut the line with us, but a) we had never met, b) I was pretty sure she was the “What NUMBA!?” lady, and c) she probably would have been the first to have an unholy flame spouting conniption if a bunch of Spaniards had cut her in the line at the White House (The fortress is still an official Royal Palace). We smiled and sympathized but did not offer to help her out as I am not about to start a riot in Spain. She got mad and then she stormed off, but we got nods from the folks behind us. Frankly we spent more time with them then we ever will with her. Shortly afterward, another person from our cruise came up and asked, with no preamble, “How do you know what this is? Is it the Fortress? There’s no sign!” I would have thought the 40 foot high stone walls in the middle of the city would have been a hint and half. We reassured her that she was indeed at the right place (numba 12) and then gratefully proceeded through the gate.
The Alcazar was just stunning, all knotwork, calligraphy, tiles and Islamic gardens. I had written about them in my Master’s thesis, and so I geeked out a bit. Afterward, we sat in a café in the medieval quarter of town, had paella with squid bits and then wandered for a while. We went past the bull fighting ring, but alas there was no cry of Toro!Toro! as the fights are on the weekends. We did see some Flamenco street dancers, and got constantly tripped up as we spoke to all the people who waited on us. Apparently we have been to Italy often enough that our instinct is to start with Italian, before realizing that we are in Spain. Stupid Americans.
The Alcazar was just stunning, all knotwork, calligraphy, tiles and Islamic gardens. I had written about them in my Master’s thesis, and so I geeked out a bit. Afterward, we sat in a café in the medieval quarter of town, had paella with squid bits and then wandered for a while. We went past the bull fighting ring, but alas there was no cry of Toro!Toro! as the fights are on the weekends. We did see some Flamenco street dancers, and got constantly tripped up as we spoke to all the people who waited on us. Apparently we have been to Italy often enough that our instinct is to start with Italian, before realizing that we are in Spain. Stupid Americans.
Catchup post: A Day at Sea
This post is brought to you after the fact, as we didn't have net access. We did still write however...
This day was at sea, thus we spent a great deal of time lounging around, eating, playing scrabble, eating, lounging some more, etc. We also hit the art auction, and except for one or two pieces that are way out of our budget, we mostly are not interested in what they are offering. There is a pretty good variety, but not a whole lot of modern abstract which probably most closely describes what we like. The prices, while high, are all below the supposed retail, so I suppose that is a bonus. Plus no tax- woohoo! It was fun to watch however, and a good excuse to sit and have a drink or two.
The day drew to a close, and we started to get ready for dinner, and we nearly committed a cruise faux pas. We lost track of the days and almost dressed formally as opposed to the smart casual that is the order of the day. We almost showed up for our dinner reservations at the steakhouse as well, even though it turns out that this was two days away. Fortunately, Jene happened upon the cruise calendar, and our reputation was saved, for another day at least. We can still screw up however, and speak too loudly on our balcony, wear sandals to the dining room, or order a decent scotch instead of the close to water variety all the bars seem to carry. We decided to go the steakhouse anyway (What? No reservation?! Madre de Dios!)
The highlight of the day however was passing through the Straits of Gibraltar. It was nine at night, thus the Rock was not visible enough for pictures, however we could see it and it was occasionally lit up with lightning flashes. It was very cool to look one way and see Europe, and the other and see Africa. Tangiers seems like quite the cargo port, and we were a bit surprised at how lit up it was. I suppose that is a bit of prejudice, but it is the third world. It took an hour or so to completely clear the straight, and we were in the Atlantic.
This day was at sea, thus we spent a great deal of time lounging around, eating, playing scrabble, eating, lounging some more, etc. We also hit the art auction, and except for one or two pieces that are way out of our budget, we mostly are not interested in what they are offering. There is a pretty good variety, but not a whole lot of modern abstract which probably most closely describes what we like. The prices, while high, are all below the supposed retail, so I suppose that is a bonus. Plus no tax- woohoo! It was fun to watch however, and a good excuse to sit and have a drink or two.
The day drew to a close, and we started to get ready for dinner, and we nearly committed a cruise faux pas. We lost track of the days and almost dressed formally as opposed to the smart casual that is the order of the day. We almost showed up for our dinner reservations at the steakhouse as well, even though it turns out that this was two days away. Fortunately, Jene happened upon the cruise calendar, and our reputation was saved, for another day at least. We can still screw up however, and speak too loudly on our balcony, wear sandals to the dining room, or order a decent scotch instead of the close to water variety all the bars seem to carry. We decided to go the steakhouse anyway (What? No reservation?! Madre de Dios!)
The highlight of the day however was passing through the Straits of Gibraltar. It was nine at night, thus the Rock was not visible enough for pictures, however we could see it and it was occasionally lit up with lightning flashes. It was very cool to look one way and see Europe, and the other and see Africa. Tangiers seems like quite the cargo port, and we were a bit surprised at how lit up it was. I suppose that is a bit of prejudice, but it is the third world. It took an hour or so to completely clear the straight, and we were in the Atlantic.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Honeymoon: Wireless is Down
Well, the wireless access on this ship is down (you thought you saw complaining before...). Since we are charged by the minute on the internet cafe computers and it seems like it is a bit of a hassle for us to transfer our photos from our laptop, I will wait to post the full entries until we have full access, which may in fact be when we get home. Fear not, we will keep writing as we go.
The highlights:
Seville- worlds biggest bull billboard! Toro!
Lisbon- Great modern architecture, and a private tour.
The Azores- quite nice, great cheese.
5 days across the ocean starts tonight. We can still get email, so feel free to write.
Scott and Jene
The highlights:
Seville- worlds biggest bull billboard! Toro!
Lisbon- Great modern architecture, and a private tour.
The Azores- quite nice, great cheese.
5 days across the ocean starts tonight. We can still get email, so feel free to write.
Scott and Jene
Sunday, October 14, 2007
Honeymoon: Barcelona
A great city with way too little time to see it. We shall be returning for a longer stay. We took a self guided audio tour, complete with I-pods, wandered away from the tour area, got on a city tour bus and were not asked for payment (lucked out), and saw some of the most famous architecture in the world. We also saw the cathedral cloiseters, complete with the traditional 13 guard geese. These birds have the life. We also walked through the art market, the antique market, the bird market (they also sold hampsters), the coin and stamp market, and past (but not in) the Museum of Erotica. Again, we will return, it simply was not enough time.
After we got back to the ship, we decided to cancel our guided tour of Lisbon, and spent some time at the ship's tour desk listening to our fellow passengers complain bitterly about every little thing that was wrong with thier tour. I wrote a note of complaint about the Capri tour, but even I wasn't this picky. Perhaps it is just the haze of nuptual bliss, but it continues to amaze us how many people on this amazing ship are just really grumpy.
Honeymoon: Monte Carlo
Monaco, where even the tourist traps are elegant. We docked this morning at Cannes, of film festival fame, and took the tender in to the buses. This gave us a great view of the waterfront as well as the ship, and was kind of fun as we rode up top. Our ship is HUGE! We met our guide, Angelique, who was quite the change from Ornella, bhh. As we rode to Monaco, we saw the glitzy parts of Cannes, but no Brangelina. Angelique told us all about Cannes, the festival, quite a bit about the principality and the advantages of Monagasque citizenship (…no taxes. Ever.) When she finally took a breath, and asked for questions, a woman who sounded just like George Costanza’s mom shouted from the back “Angie! How do you work the footrest?!” Sigh.
We rode through Nice and the countryside as we approached Monaco, and then crested the hills at the beginning of the Alps, and the French Riviera opened before us. Quite spectacular. The weather was fine, and the views superb. Our first stop was the palace (Albert was home apparently, but no sightings, much to Angelique’s chagrin). Then the Cathedral where Princess Grace was married, and eventually entombed. We saw the tombs, and it was really quite sweet, as there were fresh flowers obviously put there every day by the various residents of Monaco, in addition to the official memorials.
At lunch, where 400 plus Americans violated every local noise ordinance, led by George Costanza’s mom, who managed to outshout everyone. She was of course sitting right behind Jene. I was seated across from Mikey from Phili, a guy about my age who had mugged George Michael and stolen his glasses, sweater, and hair highlights. We decided to skip desert and admire the architecture instead. Not to wallow in self loathing, as every culture has its faults, but to be honest, as a group, we were appalling loud, rude, and demanding. It is no wonder most of the world doesn’t like Americans.
Then the real trouble started, as Angelique could get us into the Casino in Monte Carlo. We took a short hop by bus, passing the Grand Prix route, and getting to see the not so Grand Prix (go carts- where Danica Patrick (?) got her start). Arriving at the casino, we had the pleasure of using the public lifts, as Monaco and Monte Carlo are basically clinging to the cliffs for dear life. Any thoughts we had of placing a few bets and pretending to be James Bond for a minute (ok, any thoughts I had) were quickly dashed, as they were only running roulette and black jack with 25 Euro minimums (about $35) or slots. Somehow playing the slots at the Casino in Monaco just doesn’t have the same cache.
So we went to a café, got mostly ignored by the waiter, practice what little French we knew (le sange es en su branche?!), watched the fancy cars and the beautiful people, and generally marveled that we were in Monte Carlo.
On the way back, as we joined our group at the public lifts, we were told that we were bringing down the average age curve, quizzed on whether we were on our honeymoon, and generally teased because we seemed to like each other. In fact, several couples have commented on obvious recent nuptials, and shared that they have been married for 38, 44, and even 50 years. It is kind of nice.
We ended the evening by coming in second at the travel trivia (no prizes), and watching the comedian. To be honest, we were a little younger than his target audience, and thus we mostly groaned rather than laughed. He was a good entertainer however, and seemed to do pretty well. As we were sitting down, we heard from behind us, “Aww, it’s the honeymoon couple. Look, they’re cuddling again.”
We rode through Nice and the countryside as we approached Monaco, and then crested the hills at the beginning of the Alps, and the French Riviera opened before us. Quite spectacular. The weather was fine, and the views superb. Our first stop was the palace (Albert was home apparently, but no sightings, much to Angelique’s chagrin). Then the Cathedral where Princess Grace was married, and eventually entombed. We saw the tombs, and it was really quite sweet, as there were fresh flowers obviously put there every day by the various residents of Monaco, in addition to the official memorials.
At lunch, where 400 plus Americans violated every local noise ordinance, led by George Costanza’s mom, who managed to outshout everyone. She was of course sitting right behind Jene. I was seated across from Mikey from Phili, a guy about my age who had mugged George Michael and stolen his glasses, sweater, and hair highlights. We decided to skip desert and admire the architecture instead. Not to wallow in self loathing, as every culture has its faults, but to be honest, as a group, we were appalling loud, rude, and demanding. It is no wonder most of the world doesn’t like Americans.
Then the real trouble started, as Angelique could get us into the Casino in Monte Carlo. We took a short hop by bus, passing the Grand Prix route, and getting to see the not so Grand Prix (go carts- where Danica Patrick (?) got her start). Arriving at the casino, we had the pleasure of using the public lifts, as Monaco and Monte Carlo are basically clinging to the cliffs for dear life. Any thoughts we had of placing a few bets and pretending to be James Bond for a minute (ok, any thoughts I had) were quickly dashed, as they were only running roulette and black jack with 25 Euro minimums (about $35) or slots. Somehow playing the slots at the Casino in Monaco just doesn’t have the same cache.
So we went to a café, got mostly ignored by the waiter, practice what little French we knew (le sange es en su branche?!), watched the fancy cars and the beautiful people, and generally marveled that we were in Monte Carlo.
On the way back, as we joined our group at the public lifts, we were told that we were bringing down the average age curve, quizzed on whether we were on our honeymoon, and generally teased because we seemed to like each other. In fact, several couples have commented on obvious recent nuptials, and shared that they have been married for 38, 44, and even 50 years. It is kind of nice.
We ended the evening by coming in second at the travel trivia (no prizes), and watching the comedian. To be honest, we were a little younger than his target audience, and thus we mostly groaned rather than laughed. He was a good entertainer however, and seemed to do pretty well. As we were sitting down, we heard from behind us, “Aww, it’s the honeymoon couple. Look, they’re cuddling again.”
Honeymoon: What Day is this again? Toscania
We took the countryside tour, rather than go into Rome, as we were there last year and wanted to see something a little different. It was also quite relaxing, which is the buzzword for this trip. We docked at Civitavecchia, or the old fortress which as it happens was designed by my buddy Michelangelo. That dude is everywhere…
A short bus ride brought us to a working farm that plied us with wine and olive oil, after the briefest and most perfunctory educational presentations. No one really minded this, as there was wine and olive oil, and bread, tomatoes, etc. We got the web site, so there can be importing of the family’s wine, which we enjoyed. A further short bus ride got us to Tosacania, a medieval village with absolutely fabulous vistas. It was just what we were looking for.
Back on the ship, in the dining room, we were treated to desert and a photocopied card of congratulations from the Captain on our honeymoon. They sang, everyone cooed and it was generally a fine time for all. We did sort of upset one woman at the table, as I think she may have been recently widowed. We both felt a little bad, but what could we do? We were then going to wait for the late comic show, but the band on prior, Odyssea, was so bad that we had to bolt. The band that played at our wedding could do quite well on a gig like this if they ever wanted a vacation.
A short bus ride brought us to a working farm that plied us with wine and olive oil, after the briefest and most perfunctory educational presentations. No one really minded this, as there was wine and olive oil, and bread, tomatoes, etc. We got the web site, so there can be importing of the family’s wine, which we enjoyed. A further short bus ride got us to Tosacania, a medieval village with absolutely fabulous vistas. It was just what we were looking for.
Back on the ship, in the dining room, we were treated to desert and a photocopied card of congratulations from the Captain on our honeymoon. They sang, everyone cooed and it was generally a fine time for all. We did sort of upset one woman at the table, as I think she may have been recently widowed. We both felt a little bad, but what could we do? We were then going to wait for the late comic show, but the band on prior, Odyssea, was so bad that we had to bolt. The band that played at our wedding could do quite well on a gig like this if they ever wanted a vacation.
Friday, October 12, 2007
Honeymoon: Claudia Schiffer!
Our first shore excursion to the fabulous and touristy Isle of Capri. I don’t mind the touristyness at all, as the island is very quaint and looks exactly like we all imagine a Mediterranean island with hill towns would look like. We docked at Naples, close enough to hometown for Dad's ancestors, and we acquired our tour guide, Ornella bless her heart, as we left the ship. She exhibited the trait that most European women who make announcements exhibit, she speaks so softly you can’t understand a word she is saying. We speculated that it must do with the different inflections between Italian and English, but this trait is particularly dreadful in a tour guide. We could barely understand her even after they handed out the little “Whisper” ear pieces that allow her to speak directly to us via radio. We made the jet boat, and had a nice trip to the island. Then we discovered there was a poor woman who couldn’t walk that had signed up for our tour, and that we were one bus short for the 5 tour groups. We spent so much time accommodating this woman, who should have been re-advised at the assembly point on the ship that she had made a very poor choice of tours, that we were the group that was short a bus. At this point Ornella, bless her heart, disappeared without telling us what she was doing and we were left to try to figure it out for about a ½ hour until she showed up again with tickets to the Funiculare, or the incline train, that would take us to Capri, not Anicapri as we had been promised. This took another ½ hour of organization (we could have walked up the hill faster) and by the time we reached the top, Jene and I had decided we could do this better on our own. We handed in our radios, and bolted to the left. Ornella, bless her heart, was stunned that we would do this, as we had already paid for lunch and would be missing this sumptuous meal. We found out later that it was too much food that was ill prepared, (which we predicted) and so we were just as glad to have missed it. We took a bus up the bigger hill to Anicapri, along a road that is narrow with no guard rail to impede your view, so it was somewhat like a roller coaster ride, particularly when the scooters shot past you through spaces too small for them to exist in. We got there, walked around, had lunch at a little café with begging cats (which was more fun than it sounded) and a fantastic view of the Mediterranean. Then we made our way back to the larger town of Capri. We found our tour group walking behind the poor woman who couldn’t walk who was now being hauled back to the ship on a luggage truck. We managed to pass by without being noticed by Ornella, bless her heart, who was busy with something that looked very non tour related. I felt bad for the woman who couldn’t walk, as she really should have been advised that she made a very poor tour choice. On the other hand, they had made the level of walking pretty clear in the brochure. As we continued down the road, we saw supermodel Claudia Schiffer, bless here heart, with very bad hair in the middle of a photo shoot. She was accompanied by a good looking Italian model who no one was paying attention to and frankly he was looking a little put our by it. At some point there may be some picture in a magazine tha thas Jene and I walking past CS and her Ciao boy, but I doubt it. Some woman from our cruise (you could tell by the stickers they plaster you with) exclaimed loudly as CS walked by that she thought that was a very bad hair color for her skin and that she should change it, bless her heart. We enjoyed Capri, sat in the piazza and had gelato and generally had a grand ole time without our tour. We managed to finegale a ticket back on the jet boat without Ornella, bhh, and ended a fine day by listening to the adventures and complaints of the folks around us. One gentlemen from Kentucky, not on our cruise, was conversing with the folks from our crusie and marveling at the size of the boat and length of the itinerary. He opined that that 5 days at sea with his wife would be fantastic as that was 5 days less shopping she could accomplish. His wife then kindly reminded him that you can shop on the boat. The evening ended with dinner and some music, and watching the drag race between our boat and the Royal Carribean boat along the same course, which we won. All those folks on the other ship had boat envy, as we could see them snapping pictures of us as we pulled ahead. We put in a comment card about Ornella, bhh, and we will try to get some money back, although I doubt we will succeed.
Honeymoon: At sea...
The Lotus Spa. Massages are great, particularly after being folded into a plane for ten plus hours, but the hard sell on the skin brushes (now I know how a horse feels after being curry combed- “It increases circulation!”) and lack of working lockers were not so good. Nor was the fact that I had to ask for a larger robe, was handed the same sized robe, and then had to ask again for a larger robe. This puzzles me, as I am obviously a big person, and I am by no means the biggest person on the ship, nor was I the biggest person in the spa waiting room. They ask you to rate your stress level on the questionnaire going in. The whole robe thing had raised mine to a 6. The massage was excellent however, and both Jene and I were very relaxed coming out of it, and ready to spend an even more relaxing day at sea. Which is pretty much what we did. We hung out in the café, drank wine and coffee, saw the break dancers that pass for “street entertainment,” played some scrabble (Jene won, as usual) and pretty much relaxed until it was time to dress up and go to a fabulous dinner at the Italian style restaurant over the stern. We had made reservations, but these were not needed as the place was almost empty. Apparently they have been slow, as this particular cruise crowd does not like to pay the extra $20 per person for the premium restaurant. That is a shame, as it is well worth it. It was a tasting menu, so we tried just about everything, with the highlight being the ravioli, which was sort of rosemary and sage tasting with potatoes and cheese in the filling. Just fantastic. We hit the casino afterwards did not find our new best friend, bless her heart, and lost some more money before retiring to the most fantastic lighting show I have ever seen out our balcony window. The storm was a few miles off, but caused a little bit of chop even for a boat this huge. The lightning went every few seconds, with the occasional thunder to accompany it on the close ones. Very cool.
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Honeymoon: The First Day
Venice, of the afore mentioned canals, beauty etc. There were several shore excursions that went to St Marks and other places, and we were so wiped out that we both slept through them all. And yes, we did really sleep. Our wake up went off at 7:30, but I answered it and went right back to bed. We woke around 11 am local time, having missed all of the shuttles to the city. Que cera, as Venice is one of those places we will definitely come back to. Had lunch, explored the ship some more, and then did the safety drill. If there is a problem, we have to assemble at the theater, which fortunately has life boats just a few steps away. Practiced with the life jackets, and then, having been reassured that the crew has things in hand, we went topside for the departure from Venice. We had a fantastic view of the city as we sailed out (accompanied by the stylings of Andrea Boccelli and Celine Dion- personally I think Celine Dion is singularly inappropriate for a cruise. Actually I think Celine is just inappropriate). We eventually moved to our balcony which was an ever better view for being somewhat private, and saw the entire city scape of Venice go past. I got video of the whole thing, as it is a pretty unique sight.
Then we went for Tea, followed by shopping for the items we forgot, got a great deal on a new Swiss Army watch for me and a styling Fossil watch for Jene, and then had some wine while the “street” performers entertained. They were cheesy and they knew it, but such is life.
Then Dinner, which was shared with two very nice couples who also can't stand the current Republican Adminstration, thus we had lots to talk about. We then went to the casino and had a lovely time playing cards with Barbara, who wanted to be our new best friend, bought us a bottle of champagne to celebrate our nuptuals, as well as her divorce (she was gambling her ex-husbands money) and proceeded to be the loudest and most fun person in the room. We broke even after several hours of play, and generally had a great time.
Then we went for Tea, followed by shopping for the items we forgot, got a great deal on a new Swiss Army watch for me and a styling Fossil watch for Jene, and then had some wine while the “street” performers entertained. They were cheesy and they knew it, but such is life.
Then Dinner, which was shared with two very nice couples who also can't stand the current Republican Adminstration, thus we had lots to talk about. We then went to the casino and had a lovely time playing cards with Barbara, who wanted to be our new best friend, bought us a bottle of champagne to celebrate our nuptuals, as well as her divorce (she was gambling her ex-husbands money) and proceeded to be the loudest and most fun person in the room. We broke even after several hours of play, and generally had a great time.
Honeymoon: The trip over
Lufthansa. German efficiency, good design on the cup holders, free wine, good food, but very tight seats on this flight. Not only that, but the dear old lady in the seat in front of me, mind you all of 4 feet tall, felt it her god given, inalienable right to put her seat all the way back the minute we reached cruising altitude. I swear the top of her seat was 6” inches in front of my face. I had to lift my magazine up in order to get the light to shine on it. Not comfortable. Jene caught the women in the seat next to the dear old lady by crossing her legs before the seat came back, and verbal sparring ensued. Jene won, the dear old lady got the picture and they were a bit more considerate with their reclining angle from dinner on. The flight went fine, we actually got some sleep, and arrived in Frankfurt without incident. Made our connection after a 6 mile hike, and encountered a lot of folks heading for our same cruise. We made like the newly weds we are and only had eyes for each other, but it was fun to eavesdrop on everyone else chatting about their cabins, the cruise review web sites they had visited and their opinions of the ship (ranging from I can’t wait to I am not so sure about this…). We had to wait on the tarmac for a bit while they found the luggage of the folks who didn’t get through passport control, but finally arrived in Venice.
Venice, canals, romantic street, beautiful vistas and a luggage scrum that rivals any New York Airport when both the Yankees and Mets are playing in the world series. For that matter, quite a few of the folks proclaiming “Oh my God, will you look at this zoo...Larry, do you see our bags!?” sounded as if they walked off the A train. Dropping my usually polite exterior, I got my New York on and waded in, got our bags and we made a hasty retreat. As we walked away, some poor lady from Topeka asked “How on earth did you get your bags?” “I’m a New Yorker,” I replied. You can take the boy out of the state…
From there we were the property of Princess Cruises. Helped some folks onto the bus, made it through check in very quickly, saw our first casualty as some poor lady tripped over the velvet rope stanchion, and then had to listen to some more people complain that we had to walk back down the stairs before we could get on second bus to get to the ship (there was an elevator in plain site). The ship is great, brand spanking new, very elegant, and basically a floating bar. What could be better? Our room is just fine, a little small, but that is to be expected. We have a balcony which is great, except when our next door neighbor lights up the nastiest stogie I have ever had the pleasure to whiff. They are very nice however, and cooed over the fact that we are newly weds.
Hit the buffet (mediocre) and then explored the ship. We got our luggage after a few hours and then hit the showers. Then we met our steward, Petsa (pronounced Pizza) from Thailand, who got us the robes and towels we needed, although we punted on the bed turn down. Dinner was the grill- very mediocre, followed by a trip to the hot tub while they showed Pavoratti on the giant screen at the top of the ship. We met some guy from Colorado and made the mistake of announcing that we had managed to wrangle a direct flight to Frankfurt. Apparently he had arrived in Italy by way of Christ Church New Zealand or some such place and was quite put out that we had gotten the deal. We will keep that to ourselves for the rest of the trip. He went off to look for his Mom, and we decided to call it a night.
Now, in case you are wondering, we are not the youngest guests on the cruise. We saw three children, and one teenager. Then comes us. We are constantly being smiled at and cooed over as the obvious newly weds. As we walked by one couple, she proclaimed that she hoped she could sit with us and hear all about our wedding. I don’t think she realized we could hear her, as she was leaning into her husband, but whatever. This is truly not a problem, as like any newlyweds, we only have eyes for each other.
Venice, canals, romantic street, beautiful vistas and a luggage scrum that rivals any New York Airport when both the Yankees and Mets are playing in the world series. For that matter, quite a few of the folks proclaiming “Oh my God, will you look at this zoo...Larry, do you see our bags!?” sounded as if they walked off the A train. Dropping my usually polite exterior, I got my New York on and waded in, got our bags and we made a hasty retreat. As we walked away, some poor lady from Topeka asked “How on earth did you get your bags?” “I’m a New Yorker,” I replied. You can take the boy out of the state…
From there we were the property of Princess Cruises. Helped some folks onto the bus, made it through check in very quickly, saw our first casualty as some poor lady tripped over the velvet rope stanchion, and then had to listen to some more people complain that we had to walk back down the stairs before we could get on second bus to get to the ship (there was an elevator in plain site). The ship is great, brand spanking new, very elegant, and basically a floating bar. What could be better? Our room is just fine, a little small, but that is to be expected. We have a balcony which is great, except when our next door neighbor lights up the nastiest stogie I have ever had the pleasure to whiff. They are very nice however, and cooed over the fact that we are newly weds.
Hit the buffet (mediocre) and then explored the ship. We got our luggage after a few hours and then hit the showers. Then we met our steward, Petsa (pronounced Pizza) from Thailand, who got us the robes and towels we needed, although we punted on the bed turn down. Dinner was the grill- very mediocre, followed by a trip to the hot tub while they showed Pavoratti on the giant screen at the top of the ship. We met some guy from Colorado and made the mistake of announcing that we had managed to wrangle a direct flight to Frankfurt. Apparently he had arrived in Italy by way of Christ Church New Zealand or some such place and was quite put out that we had gotten the deal. We will keep that to ourselves for the rest of the trip. He went off to look for his Mom, and we decided to call it a night.
Now, in case you are wondering, we are not the youngest guests on the cruise. We saw three children, and one teenager. Then comes us. We are constantly being smiled at and cooed over as the obvious newly weds. As we walked by one couple, she proclaimed that she hoped she could sit with us and hear all about our wedding. I don’t think she realized we could hear her, as she was leaning into her husband, but whatever. This is truly not a problem, as like any newlyweds, we only have eyes for each other.
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