It’s April 4th and Colombo was a turning point.  We were going home now, pretty much the way we came.  It’s disappointing, but everyone understands and we’re all making the most of it.  The Indian-American family did it best, when they went to India. 

I had a cause to work on.  I have a very smart lady in a power chair who wants to come on our excursion in Lisbon and I wanted to help her do it.  She could have come in Singapore and another guest could have brought her power chair.  I was tired of being refused and vowed to write stronger requests.  First thing in the morning I did just that, letting the tour operators know that she was very intelligent, had an able-bodied husband for the heavy lifting, and an all-terrain power chair.  I also noted that we might not make our numbers, so it was important to have these two people.  The local tour operator promised to ask the guide.  My next agenda item was to find out if I would have anyone boarding in Cape Town, after the itinerary had been thrown into a cocked hat.  I had questioned this a month ago and there was no one, but I figured it was worth checking again.  I also needed to have a cocktail party moved to a date that would work with the new agenda.

My caregiver friend, Liz, wrote from New Hampshire that they had arrived safely but she wasn’t coming back.  That bothered me because the trip was all the pay she was getting for a difficult 24/7 job that she had been performing faithfully for three months.

Thanks to my great good friend Danièle Schére, I had another non-practicing cougar date on April 5 in Mauritius.  It’s very convoluted, Andres is a friend through Daniele’s grandchild.  He moved his family to Mauritius about a year ago.  It turned out, they live at the southern end of the island and the ship docked in Port Louis, which is around the middle.

We met at the Caudan Waterfront, found the tea Danièle wanted there, and set off on our adventure.  I was being taken through the neighborhoods of Mauritius to see how the various strata of inhabitants lived.  The climate is close to paradise and seems to have bred a class of people who work when they need money and just don’t show up when they don’t.  Unfinished houses, fences, and roads abound. 

Andres had sold a software company and was working out two years of contract labor for the new owners.  I asked him if he would start another company when that’s over and he most certainly will, but he won’t be able to rely on Mauritian labor.  It will have to be an Internet company. 

We meandered up the coast looking for a likely place to have lunch.  I rejected the first one we found because the menu was too western.  It was part of a resort and the server volunteered to bring the chef out to discuss what local food he might conjure up for us, but we were afraid of commitment, particularly as there was only one table full.  Next time I pass through, I will be happy to eat there, because it was a nice setting and probably would have been fine.

We drove for miles along the coast, and it was interesting, but there were no eateries we could patronize.  Finally we followed a resort sign, down a winding road to the sea with a very upscale resort at the end of it.  It was Le Jadis Balaclava on Turtle Bay, the kind of place you’d go for your honeymoon.  You could bring your whole wedding party.  It had pools, a Spa, and all that stuff.  There were a few local dishes on the menu and we had them.  It wasn’t as great food as the setting might have led you to suspect, but it was decent and the ambiance was sublime:

It was probably the conversation that was the best part.  It was another great port day, thanks to whom I know.  Merci Danièle et Andres.

Back on board I got a refusal on wheelchair from the Lisbon tour operator, but it left the door open when it talked about an adapted bus.  Our tour supplier offered the clarification that out request does not require a lift.  It is a collapsible scooter that ends up the size of a suitcase. The guest can step onto the transportation and we just need to know if it is possible to store it on the bus as well as whether the ground is suitable for such a scooter. 

And I went to sailaway with high hopes that this was going to resolve, now that my supplier was onside.  It was the best sailaway yet, with a good band, a sunset:

A virgin frozen Margarita:

And Sweet Caroline:

After that, I repaired to my room for three hours of reading, the cookies we always have on hand, and the body of the Easter bunny.  I was perfectly happy.

The next morning, April 6, I had another read of the correspondence about the power chair and Lisbon.  I agreed with my tour supplier, and added that the guest was highly intelligent and knows how to manage her limitations.  I added my thanks for their careful consideration of this request.  It is heartwarming that everyone seems to be trying to accommodate my passenger this time.

I went to listen to Jazz in the Chart Room then dinner and the show, which was IDA, four divas, and they were very good.

Still at sea on April 7, I now have company in the car for Cape Town, a gal from NYC, now Philly, named Lorraine.  She wants to come out to the market in Durban, too, as do Guy and Judith, from Montreal.  It will be an hour and a half in the Victoria Market and up the coast to The Oyster Box, which looked like one of those nice hotels with a sweeping verandah, like Galle Face.

I spent an hour in the Chart Room and learned that a cup of tea there is almost $5.  You pay for the atmosphere and the entertainment.  Then I had a nice lamb shank dinner in Britannia and skipped the Production show because I had seen it. 

There was a total eclipse of the sun going on in Montreal on April 8, with a party on the McGill campus, a five minute walk from my apartment.  And here I am in the Southern Hemisphere.  There won’t be another one in my lifetime.  I hope Robbie enjoyed it.

I did, at least, get a happy email from my Lisbon tour operator, confirming that the chair can indeed be loaded on to the bus.  Ecstatic, I called my person, who is ecstatic, too, and I wrote a heartfelt thank you to all concerned.

She needs the chair because of a problem that originated ten years ago, with a nasty infection that got treated in hospital with massive doses of antibiotics, quinolone, metronidazole and ciprofloxin.  Next thing she knew, she had severe arthritis in all her lower joints.  It’s pain she’s fighting and I do understand that.   There sure is nothing wrong with her brain, though  She’s smart as a whip and I am very happy we will finally get her out. 

I met Amanda for drinks in Sir Samuel’s and we ended up having a spaghetti dinner in Chef’s Table and going to the show which was Worbey and Farrell, four hands on one piano and a lot of fun to watch.

April 9 was another morning, where my email brought delight.  Liz, my caregiver, was coming back after all.  She was re-boarding on the first day in Cape Town.  I was just putting the finishing touches on a newsletter and was happy to have this news to add.  I got the newsletter out just before I went out in Durban.  Lorraine had cancelled because she seemed to have a cold and didn’t want to give it to us.  Guy and Judith, from Montreal, and I were grateful for that.  We went out around 10:30am and negotiated with the tax rank.  We ended up with Marcello, who, for $50 would take the three of us to the Victoria Market, wait for us, take us 20 minutes up the coast to The Oyster Box for our lunch at 1:00pm, and back to the ship around 3:00pm.

We split up in the market and I took this picture so I would be able to find my way back to them later.  It’s the only market picture I have:

It’s a very fun place.  I didn’t want any of the wild stuff in this picture, but I do buy a lot of Zulu necklaces.  This time I went in the opposite direction, to see if I could get better prices on the ones I like and buy for self, friends and family.  My ship people had cleaned me out of the first lot, but at least I knew what the price was.  I found a few I wanted on the three sides I hadn’t visited, but surprisingly few.  No one else had the quantity, quality and variety that my January vendor did.  So, I ended up back there, and rather than sell them to me for $US8, like she had in January, they were $10 now.  The price of glass beads had gone up shockingly.  I didn’t even bother with the walk and come back dance with her.  She knew me too well, and I knew that she knew, and all that.  What do I really care for a couple of bucks in the big scheme of things.  I know everyone is going to be happy with them.  I get heaps of compliments on the ones I wear around the ship. 

I had a nice chat with Judith in the back of the car on the way to The Oyster Box.  She’s from Lac St. Jean and started working for Bell Canada there, right out of school.  Eventually they transferred her to Montreal and, by the time she retired, she was in charge of Customer Service.  That led to her forming a company in retirement to teach the subject and she did very well indeed.  All those call center people need to be trained somewhere. 

The Oyster Box was lovely and it did have a nice big verandah we could eat on.  I got 6 oysters for $10 and they were delicious.  They were the best thing on the menu, which was just OK, something for everyone.  Nothing fabulous, except the oysters.  …  and the monkeys!  The waiters were armed with squirt bottles to keep them away but one enterprising one managed to steal a slice of pizza and take it to the second floor balcony where he ate it in peace, in full view of everyone.  I thought they were all adorable.  

The weather had been threatening all day and got worse after we re-boarded.  By the time sailaway came around it was pouring.  I didn’t want supper so I just spent a lot of time with my book.  Works for me.

Back at sea on April 10, I delivered the newsletter, logged and blogged the day away, finalized plans with our Cape Town Driver-Guide, had dinner and went to the early show.  It was Celli, two cellists, who were supposed to have a unique sense of humour.  I didn’t get it and wasn’t crazy about the music, either.  It might have been over my head.