Heavens to Betsy. We slept until nearly 10 Thursday morning. I woke up to find our room attendant putting a mirror under my nose! This nightly time change is going to kill me.
Having gotten up so late, Bill and I simply bagged breakfast and started our day with lunch. After lunch, we went to a lesson on beginning French. The young woman teaching the class handed us a vocabulary sheet, and we quickly noticed that she was teaching such phrases as “Where are you from?” and “How old are you?” Nowhere on the sheet did I see anything quite as useful as “Could I please have two glasses of red wine?” Now, Bill and I have spent enough time in France to know that there is not a single French man or woman who is going to ask me where I'm from because they couldn't possibly be less interested. And I can't imagine a circumstance under which I would ask anyone in France (or elsewhere, for that matter) how old they are. As for ordering wine, I guess I can hold up two fingers and say vin rouge.
The treadmills in the health club are lined up in front of a huge window in the front of the ship, so as we walk on the treadmill, we see the same thing the captain sees as he commandeers the ship. As I walked this morning, I noticed that the sea appears to be calm. I didn't see a single white cap. And yet, the ship seems to be rocking and rolling a lot more than it has been. I didn't hear the captain's noon report, so it might just be my imagination.
Anyone who has been on a cruise knows that there is no bigger occasion on the ship than LOBSTER NIGHT! And Thursday night was the big night. Clad in our dressy attire (it was the ship's second formal night), we enjoyed the massive lobster tail and shrimp that were laying in a pool of garlicky butter. It was immensely good. Nearly everyone in the dining room ordered it, and you saw plenty of people licking their fingers or dipping their bread in the flavorful butter.
Speaking of dinner, I will tell you a bit about our table mates for this first cruise. We once again lucked out and are dining with interesting and fun travelers.
There are eight of us at our table. Two of the diners are kind of hit and miss. In fact, given that they haven't been at the table for the past couple of nights might mean they have chosen to dine elsewhere. Peter and Tula are originally from Greece, but currently live in Florida. He speaks with a heavy Greek accent, and she rarely speaks at all. I see him daily in the gym, lifting massive weights.
Rich and Ellie are originally from New York City, but currently live in a town near Orlando, Florida. (It is interesting to note that Bill and I are the only ones at our table who don't live in Florida.) Rich and Ellie grew up a few houses from each other in the Italian section of the Bronx, and have known each other their whole lives. They were married right out of high school. He was a New York police detective, and then took a job in security for the Whitney Museum after retiring from the police force. She stayed home until the kids were grown, and then was in administration for IBM. He is a wannabe writer and tells wonderful stories during dinner.
The last couple, Harry and Babe (I think her name is Mary, but she introduced herself to us as Babe) also hails from NYC. Harry grew up in the tenements on the lower east side of Manhattan. He is one of 11 children. He told us last night that his father was a rabbi and his mother cooked. He was in the retail clothing business. He loves the New York Post and the Mets, and adores Babe. He was married once before, but his wife died. He met Babe a few years later. He told me the other night that he has only loved two women in his life -- his wife and Babe. Babe is a tiny woman who, oddly enough, also worked for IBM, and who lives to play tennis.
Following dinner, Bill and I changed into our swim suits and soaked in one of the hot tubs for a bit. We watched the sun set, then went to bed early (though we had to changed the clocks again, so we still lost an hour of sleep).
Friday is supposed to be cooler and rockier.
Friday, April 16, 2010
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Faux Pas
My friends and family know that I always strike up conversations with strangers in lines. I feel awkward at social events, but put me in line next to people I don't know, and before you know it, I know how long they have been married and how many children they have.
So, Wednesday morning I was standing in line at one of the buffet counters and I hear the woman behind me (or at least I think I hear her) say, “I wish I had brought my glasses. I can't see what it is that they're serving.” The woman with her says, “Well, that bowl has fried squid.” “Yuck,” says the woman with no glasses.
Without a second thought, I turned around with a big smile and said, “See, you really should have brought your glasses, huh?” I'm waiting for her to smile back at me, but instead she looks at me with shock and says, “What glasses?” With a feeling of impending doom, I sense the conversation heading south very quickly. “Ah, well, you said you wish you had brought your glasses. You aren't wearing them and so you almost put squid on your plate. You can't read the signs if you don't have your glasses.” Am I talking too loudly, I wonder?
The woman continues to look at me with something close to horror. “I'm legally blind,” she finally says.
Sweet heavenly Jesus. I sputter my sincere apologies and go flying back to our table. Bill asks me what's wrong. I ask him to let me just wallow in my bottomless embarrassment for a bit. But I guess my embarrassment wasn't bottomless, because a few minutes later Bill assured me that I wouldn't see her ever again, and my response was, “Well, I know she won't see me!” Ar ar ar ar.
I told Bill, that was it; I simply was finished striking up conversations with strangers. As I was saying this, we were heading over to the soft serve machine (which, I'm happy to say, serves delicious low-fat yogurt rather than ice cream; I mean, it practically burns calories as you eat it!) and got behind a man making himself a cone. He made the cone flawlessly, and before I could stop myself, I said, “You work at Dairy Queen, don't you?” He turned to me, gave me a funny look, and left. At least he didn't have any disabilities that I could see. I have begun to realize that I am physically incapable of refraining from conversations with strangers.
The hour change got to us again. We slept until past 9 o'clock. In fact, I might still be sleeping if our stateroom attendant hadn't knocked on our door (apparently to see if we were still breathing). Perhaps that's how I can stay out of trouble – just keep sleeping.
We spent most of the day reading and relaxing. I did watch the salsa class for a bit. There's something just wrong about salsa being taught by a young woman with an Australian accent, but she did a fine job anyway.
Dinner was very good. We decided, as a matter of fact, that we think the food on the Navigator is better than what we had on the Voyager two years ago. But, my God! They are killing us with the cookies. What are you supposed to do when you are wandering around the Royal Promenade and the smell of fresh chocolate chip cookies hits your nose and you see a young woman carrying around a tray of cookies? Oh, and you're on a cruise ship where you stop thinking about calories? You eat a fresh cookie three or four times a day. But that's okay. I just go have one of those calorie-burning frozen yogurt cones to offset the caloric intake.
The show last night was ballroom dancing. While the entertainers on the ship are not quite as good as Dancing With the Stars, it was a great show anyway. And we were really grown ups and stayed up for the Adult Comedy Show at 11 p.m. With the time change, that was really midnight. We rolled into bed at 1:30 (taking the time change into consideration). That's later than I've stayed up in years! And, of course we had a fresh chocolate chip cookie on our way up to our stateroom.
So, Wednesday morning I was standing in line at one of the buffet counters and I hear the woman behind me (or at least I think I hear her) say, “I wish I had brought my glasses. I can't see what it is that they're serving.” The woman with her says, “Well, that bowl has fried squid.” “Yuck,” says the woman with no glasses.
Without a second thought, I turned around with a big smile and said, “See, you really should have brought your glasses, huh?” I'm waiting for her to smile back at me, but instead she looks at me with shock and says, “What glasses?” With a feeling of impending doom, I sense the conversation heading south very quickly. “Ah, well, you said you wish you had brought your glasses. You aren't wearing them and so you almost put squid on your plate. You can't read the signs if you don't have your glasses.” Am I talking too loudly, I wonder?
The woman continues to look at me with something close to horror. “I'm legally blind,” she finally says.
Sweet heavenly Jesus. I sputter my sincere apologies and go flying back to our table. Bill asks me what's wrong. I ask him to let me just wallow in my bottomless embarrassment for a bit. But I guess my embarrassment wasn't bottomless, because a few minutes later Bill assured me that I wouldn't see her ever again, and my response was, “Well, I know she won't see me!” Ar ar ar ar.
I told Bill, that was it; I simply was finished striking up conversations with strangers. As I was saying this, we were heading over to the soft serve machine (which, I'm happy to say, serves delicious low-fat yogurt rather than ice cream; I mean, it practically burns calories as you eat it!) and got behind a man making himself a cone. He made the cone flawlessly, and before I could stop myself, I said, “You work at Dairy Queen, don't you?” He turned to me, gave me a funny look, and left. At least he didn't have any disabilities that I could see. I have begun to realize that I am physically incapable of refraining from conversations with strangers.
The hour change got to us again. We slept until past 9 o'clock. In fact, I might still be sleeping if our stateroom attendant hadn't knocked on our door (apparently to see if we were still breathing). Perhaps that's how I can stay out of trouble – just keep sleeping.
We spent most of the day reading and relaxing. I did watch the salsa class for a bit. There's something just wrong about salsa being taught by a young woman with an Australian accent, but she did a fine job anyway.
Dinner was very good. We decided, as a matter of fact, that we think the food on the Navigator is better than what we had on the Voyager two years ago. But, my God! They are killing us with the cookies. What are you supposed to do when you are wandering around the Royal Promenade and the smell of fresh chocolate chip cookies hits your nose and you see a young woman carrying around a tray of cookies? Oh, and you're on a cruise ship where you stop thinking about calories? You eat a fresh cookie three or four times a day. But that's okay. I just go have one of those calorie-burning frozen yogurt cones to offset the caloric intake.
The show last night was ballroom dancing. While the entertainers on the ship are not quite as good as Dancing With the Stars, it was a great show anyway. And we were really grown ups and stayed up for the Adult Comedy Show at 11 p.m. With the time change, that was really midnight. We rolled into bed at 1:30 (taking the time change into consideration). That's later than I've stayed up in years! And, of course we had a fresh chocolate chip cookie on our way up to our stateroom.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
People Watching
One of the realities of having an inside room (alas, our room is an inside room even though we over look the Promenade) is that you don't have any sense of the rising of the morning sun. As a result, Bill and I are sleeping later and later. This morning we were awakened by a telephone call announcing that our breakfast, which we had requested to have delivered to our room the night before, was on its way. We quickly flew out of bed and threw on our robes and tried to make it seem as though we had been up for quite some time. As though our room service attendant cared what time we awoke.
We have discovered that one of the best places to hang out during the day is in any of the bars that overlook the ocean. They are not open until after lunch, and they are quiet places to read and watch the passers-by.
And speaking of our fellow passengers, I have some stories and observations to report.
I have observed an inordinate number of couples holding hands. I think that is just wonderful. I'm sure this cruise is a honeymoon or a second honeymoon for many people. I have also been thinking about the stories behind each of the couples I see holding hands.
For example: Today we ate lunch in the formal dining room as opposed to the buffet. When you eat in the dining room, you are seated at tables of six, and you will be seated wherever they need two more people to fill up a table. As a result, you eat with different people each time, and if you like them or not is the luck of the draw. Today we ate with an elderly couple who, we learned, were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary (and it had not a first marriage for either of them). He was 88, and she was likely somewhere near that age. The other four people were of Asian descent. I saw the waiter ask one of the Asian men a question, and he responded that he didn't speak English. I made the assumption, therefore, that none of the four spoke English.
We commenced to have a fairly lengthy conversation with the older couple who, we learned, was on their 46th cruise. Forty-six. Wow. Anyway, somehow Bill and he got to talking about being in the service, and he mentioned that he was a Marine, and had been stationed in Korea during the Korean conflict. Suddenly the Asian man sitting to my left, who I had presumed didn't speak English, said he and his wife were from Korea, and he asked the older man where he had been stationed. He told him where and what year he had been in Korea. The Korean man then, in the most beautiful voice and with the most beautiful choice of words, told us how, prior to that conflict, the people of Korea had been so poor and the country had been in such financial and political trouble, and that now it was a flourishing country with a strong economy. “We would not be where we were if it weren't for the Americans, and I want to thank you.” The table was speechless for a moment. It was amazing.
In the afternoon, Bill went to the cigar bar and I went first, to a cooking demonstration by the executive sous chef, and then to watch the swing dance lessons. The cooking demonstration was interesting, but it was the dance lesson that I enjoyed the most. It was packed with probably 20 couples of all ages, nationalities, sizes and dancing skills. Well, actually, the dancing skills were somewhat limited. What struck me, however, is how absolutely earnest the couples were as they watched, listened and then tried to carry out what they were being taught. Sappy as it sounds, it literally brought tears to my eyes (and not just because of the lack of skill!). They were so joyful and so eager and so self-confident. There was a woman among the dancers who didn't have a dance partner. She would dance the steps all by herself as others danced around her. In a million years, I wouldn't have the confidence to do that. She seemed so at peace with herself, and she seemed to be having so much fun.
After dinner, there was a comedian/magician who put on a wonderful show. While he does perform some magic, he mostly made us laugh. He really was very funny, and Bill and I enjoyed the show very much.
One final note, apparently each captain decides how he wants to handle the time change. During our last transatlantic cruise, the captain had us change our clocks at noon each day. This captain has us do it at night. I imagine he's trying to not take time away from us during the day. The consequence, however, is shorter nights, which also results in us sleeping later in the morning. But, it is vacation, after all.
We have discovered that one of the best places to hang out during the day is in any of the bars that overlook the ocean. They are not open until after lunch, and they are quiet places to read and watch the passers-by.
And speaking of our fellow passengers, I have some stories and observations to report.
I have observed an inordinate number of couples holding hands. I think that is just wonderful. I'm sure this cruise is a honeymoon or a second honeymoon for many people. I have also been thinking about the stories behind each of the couples I see holding hands.
For example: Today we ate lunch in the formal dining room as opposed to the buffet. When you eat in the dining room, you are seated at tables of six, and you will be seated wherever they need two more people to fill up a table. As a result, you eat with different people each time, and if you like them or not is the luck of the draw. Today we ate with an elderly couple who, we learned, were celebrating their 50th wedding anniversary (and it had not a first marriage for either of them). He was 88, and she was likely somewhere near that age. The other four people were of Asian descent. I saw the waiter ask one of the Asian men a question, and he responded that he didn't speak English. I made the assumption, therefore, that none of the four spoke English.
We commenced to have a fairly lengthy conversation with the older couple who, we learned, was on their 46th cruise. Forty-six. Wow. Anyway, somehow Bill and he got to talking about being in the service, and he mentioned that he was a Marine, and had been stationed in Korea during the Korean conflict. Suddenly the Asian man sitting to my left, who I had presumed didn't speak English, said he and his wife were from Korea, and he asked the older man where he had been stationed. He told him where and what year he had been in Korea. The Korean man then, in the most beautiful voice and with the most beautiful choice of words, told us how, prior to that conflict, the people of Korea had been so poor and the country had been in such financial and political trouble, and that now it was a flourishing country with a strong economy. “We would not be where we were if it weren't for the Americans, and I want to thank you.” The table was speechless for a moment. It was amazing.
In the afternoon, Bill went to the cigar bar and I went first, to a cooking demonstration by the executive sous chef, and then to watch the swing dance lessons. The cooking demonstration was interesting, but it was the dance lesson that I enjoyed the most. It was packed with probably 20 couples of all ages, nationalities, sizes and dancing skills. Well, actually, the dancing skills were somewhat limited. What struck me, however, is how absolutely earnest the couples were as they watched, listened and then tried to carry out what they were being taught. Sappy as it sounds, it literally brought tears to my eyes (and not just because of the lack of skill!). They were so joyful and so eager and so self-confident. There was a woman among the dancers who didn't have a dance partner. She would dance the steps all by herself as others danced around her. In a million years, I wouldn't have the confidence to do that. She seemed so at peace with herself, and she seemed to be having so much fun.
After dinner, there was a comedian/magician who put on a wonderful show. While he does perform some magic, he mostly made us laugh. He really was very funny, and Bill and I enjoyed the show very much.
One final note, apparently each captain decides how he wants to handle the time change. During our last transatlantic cruise, the captain had us change our clocks at noon each day. This captain has us do it at night. I imagine he's trying to not take time away from us during the day. The consequence, however, is shorter nights, which also results in us sleeping later in the morning. But, it is vacation, after all.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Quiet day at sea
Our 3rd day at sea was perhaps the quietest of all thus far. We tried being outside a bit, but it was quite windy and uncomfortable. There were a number of hearty souls sitting out by the pool, and Bill did a couple of laps around the promenade deck.
As he did so, I walked around the ship and browsed in areas I had not yet seen. I stumbled upon a group of square dancers in the most unlikely of locations – a bar called the Dungeon. At night, it apparently is the spot for alternative rock music for hip twenty-somethingers. But amidst the gargoyles and skeletons that made up the décor, the cheerful dancers doe-see-doed. It was fun to watch. I recalled my neighbors when growing up in Columbus, Nebraska, who were square dancers. She had the most beautiful dancing gowns with layers upon layers of petticoat that I'm sure swished when she danced. But I digress....
After lunch, we went to the very top deck and looked down at the ocean and the ne'er say die vacationers sitting by the pool as our ship cruised along. It was quite relaxing. After a three-mile run on the elliptical, Bill and I went down to the tiny theater and watched the daily movie, along with 30 or so others. The little theater was packed to the brim.
For dinner, instead of going to the dining room and eating with our regular table mates, Bill and I elected to go to one of the premium restaurants on board the Navigator, the Portofino. It is a wonderful Italian restaurant, at which you pay a $20 per person fee to eat. We enjoyed a delicious four-course meal, and split a bottle of wonderful red wine.
We ate later than usual, and it was a two-hour meal, and as a result, the dining room was emptying out as we finished the last of our wine. The chef came out and introduced himself to each table. He was from Jamaica, and had quite a few months to go before he could go back home to his family.
I find the individual stories of the service people on board the ship to be very interesting. Our waitress, for example, is from the Philippines, and her husband is also on board the ship. He works on the housekeeping staff. She said Royal Caribbean keeps families together. Our regular nightly waiter is from Romania, and his six months (that's the length of the time they work on the ship) ends when we get to Rome. He is eagerly awaiting connecting again with his fiancée in Romania.
There was a dancing party by the pool that began at 11 p.m., but Bill and I were long since in bed.
As he did so, I walked around the ship and browsed in areas I had not yet seen. I stumbled upon a group of square dancers in the most unlikely of locations – a bar called the Dungeon. At night, it apparently is the spot for alternative rock music for hip twenty-somethingers. But amidst the gargoyles and skeletons that made up the décor, the cheerful dancers doe-see-doed. It was fun to watch. I recalled my neighbors when growing up in Columbus, Nebraska, who were square dancers. She had the most beautiful dancing gowns with layers upon layers of petticoat that I'm sure swished when she danced. But I digress....
After lunch, we went to the very top deck and looked down at the ocean and the ne'er say die vacationers sitting by the pool as our ship cruised along. It was quite relaxing. After a three-mile run on the elliptical, Bill and I went down to the tiny theater and watched the daily movie, along with 30 or so others. The little theater was packed to the brim.
For dinner, instead of going to the dining room and eating with our regular table mates, Bill and I elected to go to one of the premium restaurants on board the Navigator, the Portofino. It is a wonderful Italian restaurant, at which you pay a $20 per person fee to eat. We enjoyed a delicious four-course meal, and split a bottle of wonderful red wine.
We ate later than usual, and it was a two-hour meal, and as a result, the dining room was emptying out as we finished the last of our wine. The chef came out and introduced himself to each table. He was from Jamaica, and had quite a few months to go before he could go back home to his family.
I find the individual stories of the service people on board the ship to be very interesting. Our waitress, for example, is from the Philippines, and her husband is also on board the ship. He works on the housekeeping staff. She said Royal Caribbean keeps families together. Our regular nightly waiter is from Romania, and his six months (that's the length of the time they work on the ship) ends when we get to Rome. He is eagerly awaiting connecting again with his fiancée in Romania.
There was a dancing party by the pool that began at 11 p.m., but Bill and I were long since in bed.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Bubbles at Sea
If days had themes, yesterday's theme would have been champagne. We didn't plan it. It just happened.
It started with our Cruise Critic Meet and Greet at noon, where they offered us champagne to sip while we ate a few munchies and met some of our fellow travelers. Then, Bill was one of the lucky winners of the raffle drawing (I told him he should go put some tokens into the slot machine), and what did he win? You guessed it – a bottle of champagne. Finally, last night was our first formal dinner, and the Captain held his reception in the Royal Promenade. White-coated waiters offered us sparkling glasses of champagne. I felt like a grown-up in my cocktail dress drinking the bubbly wine surrounded by people in suits, tuxes and a beautiful array of cocktail gowns.
The weather was lovely, about 75 and mostly sunny. We attended morning Mass, and then spent much of the day enjoying the sun at the pool or elsewhere on the ship. We watched a father and son compete to climb the highest on the climbing wall. (It was a tie.) We watched some senior citizens play paddle tennis (and they were quite good). We observed the mandatory belly flop contest. (Two Germans against two Americans. Europeans men shouldn't even THINK they can compete against pot-bellied American men. The Americans won, of course.)
We did quite a bit of walking, and I spent 45 minutes in the gym while Bill did the stair-stepper for a bit. We're trying hard to stay ahead of our eating.
As I mentioned before, it was our first formal night. Everyone dresses up the most, I think, for the first formal dinner, and then it eases up. As we wandered around the Promenade sipping our champagne, I really did have a sense of being on a very elegant ship such as the Titanic or the Queen Mary back in the days. They even had a dance band playing hits from the forties. But, alas, pretty soon the disco ball came down and the music became more contemporary. Bill and I went up to bed.
One note: At Mass, during the prayers of the faithful, our priest suggested we pray for those taking a cruise to try and save a relationship, or who were taking what will likely be a final cruise, or for those suffering (or recovering) from a serious illness, etc. It made me think about the fact that everyone I see, standing behind them in the buffet line or watching them play golf or seeing them walk briskly along the track on the 12th deck, has a story. Realizing that makes me look at people a little differently. I hope it also makes me more patient. And it's fun to try to imagine their story.
Today looks to be a sunny and warm day again. Hoorah! We're enjoying them while we have them.
It started with our Cruise Critic Meet and Greet at noon, where they offered us champagne to sip while we ate a few munchies and met some of our fellow travelers. Then, Bill was one of the lucky winners of the raffle drawing (I told him he should go put some tokens into the slot machine), and what did he win? You guessed it – a bottle of champagne. Finally, last night was our first formal dinner, and the Captain held his reception in the Royal Promenade. White-coated waiters offered us sparkling glasses of champagne. I felt like a grown-up in my cocktail dress drinking the bubbly wine surrounded by people in suits, tuxes and a beautiful array of cocktail gowns.
The weather was lovely, about 75 and mostly sunny. We attended morning Mass, and then spent much of the day enjoying the sun at the pool or elsewhere on the ship. We watched a father and son compete to climb the highest on the climbing wall. (It was a tie.) We watched some senior citizens play paddle tennis (and they were quite good). We observed the mandatory belly flop contest. (Two Germans against two Americans. Europeans men shouldn't even THINK they can compete against pot-bellied American men. The Americans won, of course.)
We did quite a bit of walking, and I spent 45 minutes in the gym while Bill did the stair-stepper for a bit. We're trying hard to stay ahead of our eating.
As I mentioned before, it was our first formal night. Everyone dresses up the most, I think, for the first formal dinner, and then it eases up. As we wandered around the Promenade sipping our champagne, I really did have a sense of being on a very elegant ship such as the Titanic or the Queen Mary back in the days. They even had a dance band playing hits from the forties. But, alas, pretty soon the disco ball came down and the music became more contemporary. Bill and I went up to bed.
One note: At Mass, during the prayers of the faithful, our priest suggested we pray for those taking a cruise to try and save a relationship, or who were taking what will likely be a final cruise, or for those suffering (or recovering) from a serious illness, etc. It made me think about the fact that everyone I see, standing behind them in the buffet line or watching them play golf or seeing them walk briskly along the track on the 12th deck, has a story. Realizing that makes me look at people a little differently. I hope it also makes me more patient. And it's fun to try to imagine their story.
Today looks to be a sunny and warm day again. Hoorah! We're enjoying them while we have them.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Setting Sail
It's midafternoon and Bill and I are getting settled into our little (and it is little) room on the 8th deck of the Navigator of the Sea. We got on early, feeling like smug worldly cruisers because we knew we didn't have to wait until the 2 o'clock check-in time. Sure enough, when we checked in at about noon, there was no line and we got onto the ship in short order.
Let's go grab lunch, we decided, since our room wouldn't be ready until 1 o'clock. Ah ha. We weren't the only worldly cruisers. The Windjammer Cafe was PACKED. Not a table to be had. So we did what needed to be done. We found a table by the pool and ordered a beer.
Let me just point out that the minute we got off the plane at the Miami airport, we knew we weren't in Kansas anymore. You could feel the warmth and humidity even as we walked through the tunnel from the plane to the terminal. As we took the long walk down the terminal to baggage claim, we saw a multitude of extremely thin women with enormous breasts carrying unrealistically small dogs. The wonders of liposuction and breast enhancement (the women, not the dogs).
I love Miami. I love the palm trees, the pretty flowers, the diversity of people you see and languages you hear, the pink, yellow, and turquoise buildings, and the unique downtown skyline. The buildings are seriously beautiful, all interesting shapes and sizes.
We went to the Bayside area for a late lunch, and then took the Metro Mover back to our room to relax before we got ready to meet some new friends at Versailles Restaurant in the Little Havana area of the city.
Bill connected with these new friends on Cruise Critic, an Internet site where people who are cruising can “chat.” He signed us up to join eight or 10 people, all who are on this particular cruise, at this famous Cuban Restaurant, which has been in the same location since the sixties. The food was delicious. Bill had roast pork and I had yummy sticky oxtail stew. We got to know some of the people who are on this cruise. Despite the fact that this ship holds 3,000 or so, it's funny how you do run into people over and over. In fact, I've already run into the lovely couple from Hershey, PA, that we sat next to last night.
Once we had lunch, we began exploring the ship. This is my favorite day of the cruise. I love walking around and seeing the different restaurants and lounges, finding the health club, seeing what shops are available on the Royal Promenade, which we see from our stateroom window. We got signed up for the Internet, we checked out the times that the health club is open, we located the restaurant where we will dine each night, and in fact, found the table where we will sit.
At 4:30, we have our mandatory muster drill, at which we will learn what to do in case the ship begins to sink. I will attend, of course, but I already know what I will do if said ship begins to sink – have a heart attack and die. Still, I love to put the life vests on. I look good in orange. Doesn't everyone?
Tonight we will meet our dinner companions, and see our first show. Let the fun begin!
Let's go grab lunch, we decided, since our room wouldn't be ready until 1 o'clock. Ah ha. We weren't the only worldly cruisers. The Windjammer Cafe was PACKED. Not a table to be had. So we did what needed to be done. We found a table by the pool and ordered a beer.
Let me just point out that the minute we got off the plane at the Miami airport, we knew we weren't in Kansas anymore. You could feel the warmth and humidity even as we walked through the tunnel from the plane to the terminal. As we took the long walk down the terminal to baggage claim, we saw a multitude of extremely thin women with enormous breasts carrying unrealistically small dogs. The wonders of liposuction and breast enhancement (the women, not the dogs).
I love Miami. I love the palm trees, the pretty flowers, the diversity of people you see and languages you hear, the pink, yellow, and turquoise buildings, and the unique downtown skyline. The buildings are seriously beautiful, all interesting shapes and sizes.
We went to the Bayside area for a late lunch, and then took the Metro Mover back to our room to relax before we got ready to meet some new friends at Versailles Restaurant in the Little Havana area of the city.
Bill connected with these new friends on Cruise Critic, an Internet site where people who are cruising can “chat.” He signed us up to join eight or 10 people, all who are on this particular cruise, at this famous Cuban Restaurant, which has been in the same location since the sixties. The food was delicious. Bill had roast pork and I had yummy sticky oxtail stew. We got to know some of the people who are on this cruise. Despite the fact that this ship holds 3,000 or so, it's funny how you do run into people over and over. In fact, I've already run into the lovely couple from Hershey, PA, that we sat next to last night.
Once we had lunch, we began exploring the ship. This is my favorite day of the cruise. I love walking around and seeing the different restaurants and lounges, finding the health club, seeing what shops are available on the Royal Promenade, which we see from our stateroom window. We got signed up for the Internet, we checked out the times that the health club is open, we located the restaurant where we will dine each night, and in fact, found the table where we will sit.
At 4:30, we have our mandatory muster drill, at which we will learn what to do in case the ship begins to sink. I will attend, of course, but I already know what I will do if said ship begins to sink – have a heart attack and die. Still, I love to put the life vests on. I look good in orange. Doesn't everyone?
Tonight we will meet our dinner companions, and see our first show. Let the fun begin!
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Our bags are packed and we're ready to go....
Whew. We have worked so hard preparing for this vacation that I need a vacation. Luckily, seven straight days at sea should make me as relaxed as an old perm!
We have managed to fit 30 days worth of living into two checked bags and three carry-on bags. The two checked bags are less than 50 lbs each to avoid having to pay the excess weight charge. To compensate (after all, we had to fit our heavy things such as shoes, electronic equipment and, of course, books somewhere), our carry-on bags will likely result in one or more pulled back muscles. Still, we will have those seven days at sea to recuperate. So what if we are incapacitated and therefore unable to take paso doble lessons?
Packing for a trip such as this is a true test of marital tolerance. Bill managed to refrain from saying one word about the books I am bringing (not even once mentioning that there is a library on board the ship), perhaps merely feeling smug since he purchased an ereader a few months ago. I, for my part, also managed to bite my tongue as he packed more pants and shirts than he will wear the entire rest of the summer. To be fair, it is difficult to know exactly what to bring on a two-pronged trip like we are taking. We will likely experience all sorts of weather, from a chilly transatlantic crossing to the sunny climes of the Mediterranean during the second cruise.
In preparation for the vacation, Bill lost a total of 25 lbs., and I lost a total of 18 lbs. We are still flabby, and our skin color is as white as a clean cotton ball, but at least innocent children will not be diving overboard the second they see us in our swimsuits. We intend to walk plenty and exercise daily, but given the sheer amount of food available to us 24 hours a day, we will see how long we are able to maintain our current weight.
Our daughter picks us up at 5:30 tomorrow morning, and at 7:50, our plane takes off for Miami, where we begin our lovely adventure.
We have managed to fit 30 days worth of living into two checked bags and three carry-on bags. The two checked bags are less than 50 lbs each to avoid having to pay the excess weight charge. To compensate (after all, we had to fit our heavy things such as shoes, electronic equipment and, of course, books somewhere), our carry-on bags will likely result in one or more pulled back muscles. Still, we will have those seven days at sea to recuperate. So what if we are incapacitated and therefore unable to take paso doble lessons?
Packing for a trip such as this is a true test of marital tolerance. Bill managed to refrain from saying one word about the books I am bringing (not even once mentioning that there is a library on board the ship), perhaps merely feeling smug since he purchased an ereader a few months ago. I, for my part, also managed to bite my tongue as he packed more pants and shirts than he will wear the entire rest of the summer. To be fair, it is difficult to know exactly what to bring on a two-pronged trip like we are taking. We will likely experience all sorts of weather, from a chilly transatlantic crossing to the sunny climes of the Mediterranean during the second cruise.
In preparation for the vacation, Bill lost a total of 25 lbs., and I lost a total of 18 lbs. We are still flabby, and our skin color is as white as a clean cotton ball, but at least innocent children will not be diving overboard the second they see us in our swimsuits. We intend to walk plenty and exercise daily, but given the sheer amount of food available to us 24 hours a day, we will see how long we are able to maintain our current weight.
Our daughter picks us up at 5:30 tomorrow morning, and at 7:50, our plane takes off for Miami, where we begin our lovely adventure.
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