After three busy days on land, no one came to the desk on March 28.  I finished off the Sri Lankan paperwork and sent a disembarked passenger the email she had asked for. Then I took care of my own clients, whose flights had not been ticked in time by Flights by Celebrity.  It was now three days into 60 days before departure and Celebrity tried to tell me the flights weren’t paid for, when the client had made final payment on Feb 10.  The number of errors that creep into everything nowadays is shocking.   I worked all day and had drinks and dinner with Amanda, one on one, and it was magic.  It’s nice to have a girlfriend onboard.  We just talked our way past the entertainment, Jeff Stevenson, who, I later heard was good.  So, I’ll catch him next time. 

Still at sea on Friday, March 29, I got a nice text from one of last year’s passengers, wanting me for his travel agent. I had to refuse and refer him to the Travel Leaders web site.  I’m sure he’ll find someone there.  Joining Travel Leaders has certainly been good to me and it lets me be good to my clients, too.  I can almost always match the lowest price out there and add good personal service and perks like Distinctive Voyages. 

I only had one guest at the desk. Then who showed up but Chris, the Aussie guy,  who rents motorcycles in some of the ports.  He was wondering what I was doing in Colombo, Sri Lanka.  Starting in 2012, I have been going to the Galle Face Hotel.  It started because I was always looking for WiFi, in the early days. You could hardly get anything done on the ship’s, no matter what you paid.  While I would be working in their nice posh surroundings, I couldn’t miss the fact that they have a great Indian buffet lunch.  We were going to be docking on Easter Sunday.  So I brought up the web site and ran it by him.  I was going to go there anyway and would be glad of the company.  When I went to book it online, it was twice the price, because it was Easter Sunday, but neither of us cared.  It would be a great experience. 

In the afternoon, I finally got around to working on my expense account, so that’s up-to-date, There was a Captain’s cocktail party and I went, for the champagne and caviar, and shared a word or two with a couple of my people, whom I hardly ever see.  They are in the Princess and Queen’s Grill, respectively.  It’s a class ship.  I finished off my evening eating potato chips in the Gloden Lion, listening to “A Cupla Fir”, one of them on vocals and guitar and the other on the Tin Whistle.  He was very good, but the tin whistle pretty much drowned out the vocals.

On Holy Saturday, I started with a bit of client work and I went to American Greetings and sent out my April birthday cards.  At the desk I recommended The Galle Face Hotel to another group.  There was a little snag with our own reservation as they wanted to be paid about $20 with a bank transfer that would probably cost me $40.  I elected to make a Skype phone call for two cents a minute and give them my credit card over it, which was a bit of a risk.  I got some understanding from their accounting department and my reservation was confirmed without the deposit.  I did some more work on my log and went to share a table in the dining room, a little earlier.  At 8:45pm, A Cupla Fir, were in the Queen’s Room, followed by Jeff Stevenson, whom I had vowed to hear.  A lot of people had the same idea, but I managed to join a nice couple at a good table for three, ordered a double Bailey’s on the rocks and settled in.  A Cupla Fir were still playing the music that I love, but the acoustics weren’t any better in the Queen’s Room, than they were in the Golden Lion.  The tin whistle still drowned out the vocals.  Pity, that.  Jeff Stevenson was excellent, and I was glad of my entertainment choices.

On Easter Sunday, we docked in Colombo Sri Lanka. I had a great day.  Chris and I took the ship’s shuttle out of the port and hired a Tuk Tuk to get us to Galle Face for next to nothing.  He really wanted to tour us around and make more money, so we let him take us to the elephant park, which is right in the middle of the city.

Chris is a nice guy and I was having fun being a “non practicing” cougar:

The Galle Face Hotel’s Easter Buffet Brunch was a knockout and they added all the bubbly you could drink for a pittance.  I took 24 different food pictures before we even started filling a plate. 

And these were my first choice:

And what my second plateful looked like:

And I didn’t take pictures of my third, fourth, etc.  We stuffed ourselves.  There wasn’t anything wrong with the view from our table. Either.  Chris ran out to point it out:

When we could eat and drink no more, we went out looking for another Tuk Tuk and ours was waiting for us at the door.  We let him tour us around a bit and tried to do a bit of shopping in the stores but found nothing.

We got back to the ship around 6PM.  There was a market on the pier and I bought four more white blouses three of which didn’t fit when I tried them on on board.  That’s OK.  I have three young cousins to buy for and why not buy them the things I like?  I was so full, hot, and tired that I took a little lie down, got up, ate the butt out of the Easter Bunny the ship had gifted us and went to bed.   

Back at sea on April Fool’s Day, I learned that my caregiver and her charge were back at home in New Hampshire and not likely coming back.  And Amanda wrote another poem:

Faith and story

When a story is told 
About faith and belief 
It’s made to describe
A Heart feeling 
A beat 
Beyond words, beyond knowing
Beyond calling a name
A secret in silence
Wrapped in a tale 
We frame it, we name it
We give it a sign
Shine a light out of darkness
Call it divine 
We say some are chosen
Some sinners, some thieves
Some superior, Some beginners
In shame and in deeds
We mock and we punish 
Torment and expose
All for an unknowing
None of us know
Our minds cannot make sense of it
So we have to believe
There is meaning and destiny
In the stories we weave
If only we knew
That the Truth doesn’t care
Has no name
Has no place
Is everywhere
It lives inside all of us
Brings Grace out of despair 
Shows us in thought
That no-one is there
It is greater than all of us 
Can ever conceive
Gives birth to a world out of a seed
Brings comfort and joy
Out of terror and grief
All that is needed
Is to believe 
The feeling of Love is the healer
Faith turns the key
Out of unanswered questions
Finds a prayer we can Be
Believing and trusting
In Life all around
In the beauty and wonder
The Great Mystery 
Is found
….…………………….Amanda Blue Leigh

And right behind it came this stunning sunrise picture:

Photo Credit: Amanda Blue Leigh

I got her permission to publish.  Now you know.  It wasn’t mine.  When would I ever be up that early? 

I spent most of the day on my logging and blogging.  Then I went to the Commodore Club, but no one I knew was there so I went to the Chart Room and listened to the string trio for a bit before dinner.  I had the Indonesian Seafood curry and went to bed earlier than usual.

I was violently ill, all night, every hour on the hour and a couple of half-hours, too.  It didn’t feel like a virus, either.  It just felt like something I ate and it was done by morning.

But, I was drained.  I started working on the newsletter that would go out on April 3.  I slept from one to three and went to the WC lounge for a couple of scones.  I ate one of them and decided to take the other back to the room.  I lay down again and slept until 9:40pm.  Then I got up, ate the other scone, had a cup of tea, watched “Top Hat”, with Fred Astaire and Ginger Rogers, and went back to sleep at midnight. 

I woke up on Wednesday, April 3^rd, perfectly fine but hungry.  Intermittent fasting would be a little harder than usual today.  I spent an hour or so booking my McGill Community for Lifelong Learning classes, spring term.  I settled on “Percussion” and “Davos Man – How the Billionaires Devoured the World”.  Should be an interesting semester.

A couple of people stopped by the desk, just social calls, passing through.  I PhotoShopped a bunch of pictures and I got another newsletter out.  Just another day at the office.  I decided to start eating again with spaghetti a la carbonara, at the Chef’s Table, followed by the comedy of Mike Doyle.  All of that sat well. 

After Singapore, there was only one day at sea before three in port.  On the third port day there was another Distinctive Voyage shore excursion, so this was going to be a busy sea day.  First I got a newsletter out because there was a cocktail party later and people forget stuff when there’s been a port day.  I spent most of the day doing the kind of paperwork we never used to have to do.  The passengers, or the ship, would present our passports to Immigration Officers and that was it.  The new, improved, method has us entering our information into the country’s web site, which is often full of bugs.  Sri Lanka’s one drove me nuts.  I was trying to do all for a family of four, but if I dared to go off the straight path to look back or if I made a slight error that needed correcting, I had to go all the way back to the beginning.  Between that and the arrival cards, it pretty much took me the entire day, and I wasn’t entertaining fond thoughts of Sri Lanka by the time I was done.

There was a DV welcome party at 5:30pm in Sir Samuel’s and it was fun.  The four new people came as well as a couple who hadn’t come before, and the usual suspects.  Five of us, continued on to dinner in Britannia and I opened the very special bottle my Melbourne friends had given me.  It was fabulous.  See if you can lay your hands on some of this:

The next day we docked in Penang, Malaysia.  I wanted to go out in Penang, so I got up extra early to clear my emails, etc.  Amanda had missed the party last night.  She’s on a different schedule from the rest of us.  Her muse sat in the wee hours and the morning’s emailbox brought this:

I wrote a poem instead …
hope you enjoy ….

Some people live for sports
They talk endlessly about the game
Their whole lives in action
Chasing the day
From sunrise to sunset
They’re running at dawn
Attending every event
They never get bored
But it doesn’t satisfy
Doesn’t hit the mark
This life in action
Soon grows dark
They ask themselves
Why? what can I do
To be the best
To be renewed
Better than most
How can I find
A game that works
A game that’s bigger
Better than best
On top of my form
Ahead of the rest
My life is slipping away 
Ahead of my age
Losing in time
Stopped in my tracks
There’s no winning game
That satisfies this
How can I create something 
Greater than me
How can I cheat death
Decay and dis-ease
How can a formula make me beat
This chase to slow down
My fate with eternity
Running the rails 
Never get stuck
My inner voice whispers
Good luck …

Amanda is writing a book of poetry.  She has credentials.  She was a singer-songwriter back in the day.  Google “Amanda Blue Leigh”.  I replied: “and that’s one of the ways.  Write one that’s good enough to immortalize you.  We make our own luck.  I like making people happy – have fun – live…  and I have been ageing backwards for the last couple of years.  I have this great exercise program.  It is pretty easy to do and damned if I am not gaining mobility, losing my pot (work in progress) and gaining more and more energy.  It’s http://www.essentrics.com The creator is an old ballerina – older than you.  I think she’s 73.”

The real news of the day was that one of my people broke her leg and was in a Hospital in Singapore.  The ship never told me.  I found out through an email from her caregiver.  I responded with sympathy from afar, an exhortation to get on with the insurance company ASAP, if she, the caregiver wanted the best treatment and the possibility of finishing the trip with us.  I threw in a couple of Singapore restaurant recommendations, which she doubtless ignored, and the cafeteria at SGH was likely pretty good, anyway.  I alerted my contact on the ship, finished off the SriLanka visa project and started on our next shore excursion in Lisbon, because that had just come in.

And, believe it or not I still went out in Penang.  It was three o’clock in the afternoon, but we weren’t sailing until nine, so I was going out for dinner.  My best girlfriend, from my Hong Kong days, is Linda Chew, a Malaysian-born Chinese with a Harvard MBA.  She has been back in Malaysia for years, now, and I have visited her on a number of occasions.  She couldn’t meet me in Penang, but she had some good suggestions.  I had been reading about Somerset Maugham’s time in Penang recently, too, so her ideas fit right in.

There’s a street in the old part of town called “Armenian Street”.  It housed a number of businesses that catered to expats, both day and night, if you know what I mean, nudge, nudge, wink, wink.  At the ocean end of said street is Chew Jetty, and Linda can trace her ancestry back to there, and likely farther. I got into a taxi and had myself taken there.  The taxi driver wanted to tour me around, too, but Linda had recommended a trishaw, so I just asked him where the best Chinese seafood around was and got off at Chew Jetty.

The picture explains it.  When you walk in, all you see are store fronts.  Every family doubtless has one or rents the space to someone with something to sell.  I had been meaning to buy a tiny little lucky cat, since they came out with the solar ones, and I found it here for less than any other place.  I named him “Chew Jetty” and he sits on my desk for office hour. 

The restaurant was closed but would reopen at five for dinner, so I had myself a very delicious hazelnut-chocolate gelato and found myself a trishaw. 

It was a great ride all in and around the old neighborhoods, Indian and Chinese.  I took a lot of silly pictures just to be polite, and because it was so nice to be able to without the structure, and dirty windows, of a tour bus.  I let him give me some more time on Chew Jetty, so he could rest, and got my best picture.  This is Linda’s ancestral temple:

Around 5:30, he dropped me off at the restaurant

And I settled in to have my meal.  There were zero tourists:

I enjoyed my Tiger Beer with Chew Jetty, while I waited to be served:

When a half hour passed without anyone coming to me, I asked a few questions and learned the system.  I needed to go to the fish tanks, choose my food, while it was still alive, order and pay for it, first.  So, I did that.  I ordered Chili Crab, Fried Flat Noodles and Ginger and Spring Onion Squid.   

 All of that came to about $25, a very good bargain, given the quality, and as it came with WiFi, which I used for a WhatsApp call to my caregiving friend in Singapore.

 

Once I was well sated, I wandered back out into the street and there was my trishaw waiting to take me back to the ship.  I gave him a very nice tip, because that was just perfect.

Another day, another port.  This one was Langkawi, Malaysia  on March 26.  I worked a bit on tomorrow’s shore excursion,  finished getting out a newsletter, reminding everyone of the tour in Phuket tomorrow, and of the fact that they could not assume the ship had done their ETAs, unless they has asked it to.  It was after two when I got out in Langkawi.  All I had time for was a shuttle bus ride, to an aquarium that I didn’t want to visit, and a few seedy looking restaurants.  It was a twenty-five minute walk to town and my Singaporean friend said they hadn’t seen any particularly good-looking restaurants. 

There was a seafood restaurant across the street from the aquarium, so I decided to brave it.  It had a good few of our crew members there, which is a decent indicator.  It did have fish tanks, too, just a lot of the seafood didn’t look to healthy.  I made sure my crab was wiggling desperately, before I agreed to him.  I reversed the treatment, having chili squid and ginger and spring onions crab. 

It was all delicious.  They didn’t have much for dessert but there was an ice cream vendor across the street and I got a nice cup of chocolate ice cream and mango sorbet to take to the waiting shuttle bus.

Then I went to sailaway, skipped dinner, and stressed some about Phuket being a tender port. 

I was up at seven, in Phuket, on March 27,  not so worried about how the tour would go, as how it would start.  The tender operation was well underway by the time I got up, so it was looking brighter.  My people were good, on time and ready, and we got an escort to the tender at the designated time. 

Our guide was at the other end, was where he needed to be, waiting.  He had interesting things to say on he bus ride.  The economy of Phuket at this point is almost 100% tourist based.  Patong beach, where we landed, is famous for its night life, mind you it’s a sort of seedy claim to fame.  Bring on the sex tourists.  Did you know “Thai” means “free”, so this really is the land of the free. It was never colonized by Europeans, which is unique. 

Before we got to our first stop, I had presents for everyone, little packets of Watson’s Keenex, suitable for taking into dodgy toilets, in case we met any.

Then he took us to the promised old Phuket Farm, which turned out to be an experience center – purpose built, rather than an old farm.  It served its purpose, though, and we did see how rubber was made.  Did you know it’s a sap, like maple sap?  There were flora, rice paddies, a couple of water buffalo, and a nice replica of a Thai house on stilts, with its upstairs uncommonly well furnished.

Lunch at One Chun was the hit of the day.  It was bountiful and delicious.  We got a fabulous yellow crab curry with glass noodles, pork belly that was as divine as a pig’s stomach can be, two whole fried sea bass with onion and ginger, squid with butter egg sauce, fish balls, six vegetarian dishes, and a lovely frozen desert.  I bought beer and wine for all and we were very happy.  But when we got back into the street for our tour of Phuket town, the heat was overpowering and we could hardly wait to get back on the bus.  Back on the ship, I went to sailaway, had two chocolate desserts and slept for eleven hours. 

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 3 –Sydney to Singapore..3.4 Saigon to Singapore

The latest scoop from the ship in today’s Daily Programme, delivered last night, March 20 as we left Saigon, was that Singapore required an arrival card, which had to be filled in online before arrival.  I called everyone and volunteered to do the online work for them.  Those who had not had me do their Indonesian or Sri Lankan visas would have to bring me their passport info.  I ended up doing about half of my pax.  My recovering wheelchair bound passenger had asked me to get her a quote on next year’s world and I took a minute to write to her travel agent because I knew she’d love it:

I worked on the Singapore arrival cards for everyone and found out from my Indian American family, that I would soon be doing a different set of SriLankan visas for them because they were planning to get off the ship in Colombo and spend some time in India.  What a great idea.  I am jealous.

I made up welcome packets for two cabins who would be boarding in Singapore.  I worked late, had an early dinner and got ready for our tour in Singapore in the morning.  It was masquerade night and I did get one of my people to take this picture of me, in my Saigon market find, with the ship’s flower arrangement, well, because:

On Friday,March 22, I woke up in Singapore.  I had texted our Singapore Tour Guide, around 8am, and she had replied.  My people assembled in the Champagne Lounge at 9:00 am.  We had been warned that it might take a long time to get through the terminal, with the new facial recognition systems in place, but, it was pretty easy and we met Eliza Hoh so early that we all had to wait while she called the bus in, and it came.  Singapore being Singapore, that didn’t take too long and we were soon off.  Eliza had an excellent command of the English language and the facts about her city.  She used COVID for continuing education, first taking courses, then training newer tour guides.  We hit the jackpot this time.  Singapore is a small place, with a large population and a big middle class.  It would be an enormous parking lot if there weren’t very restrictive rules on the acquisition of vehicles.  You have to be rich to own one.  First you need a certificate of entitlement, which are distributed by lottery and cost a bomb.  The smallest cheapest car requires a $20,600 certificate.  That’s $15,000 USD, and you haven’t bought the car yet.  It’s going to cost you double its price, because you pay 100% tax in it.  You can only keep it until your certificate runs out, which is ten years.  Then it gets sold into some poorer country and you begin the process again.  There’s a lot of car-sharing going on, as you can well imagine, and the public transportation system is second to none.

Singapore works.  It has gone from a third world country to first world, and very first world, in 40 years.  I started coming here 30 years ago, and I am not sure I totally believe that, but she’s not far off.  People own their apartments, with a 99 year lease, so it depreciates when the time is running out, before the government takes it back.  The average apartment is worth $2000 USD per square foot. So a 1000 sq.ft apartment sells for $2,000,000, just an average one, mind you.  If my apartment were in Singapore, in an equivalent location, it would be well over ten million, likely more, but I can’t wrap my mind around that. 

The powers that be (Lee Kwan Yew and his well chosen team) did not think the city should break up into neighborhoods along ethnic lines.  The breakdown is 75% Chinese, 15% Malay, 8% Indian (mostly Tamil) and 2% Eurasian, only a few of whom are purely European.  Therefore, apartment buildings are to be occupied in that proportion.  If you are Malay, you cannot sell to a Chinese, because it would upset the balance.  It can get complicated.  But…it works. 

All that interesting stuff brought us to the Orchid Garden.  I have been there a number of times, it’s gorgeous.

The only mistake Eliza made all day, was letting one of my guests do the walk with her walker, when she could have asked the front office for a wheelchair for her husband to push.  By the time it became obvious we were too far away from the entrance to fix it.  The tour operator should have permitted her 50lb collapsible power chair and all would have been well.  We had the same bus all day.  She could have brought both the chair and the walker and at least used the chair in the gardens.  They were fully paved.  I let it go because the garden had not been paved the last time I was here, 2018, but the guide should have known and the tour operator shown more flexibility.  They need to understand these new lightweight power chairs better.  I only leave this story in, because it might help someone else visiting Singapore with a handicap.

Back on the bus, Eliza showed us around the neighborhood where the “Crazy Rich Asians” live.  It’s very near the Orchard Garden.  She also took us through Little India and told us about Moustafa, where you can get anything at any hour of the day or night, and explained the sheltered walkways the neighborhood is famous for. We went through Chinatown, too, and got an education on the best Singaporean dishes, chili crab, laksa and chicken-rice.

Our last treat was a bum boat ride down the river and around the Marina Bay Basin.  That was good for some photo-ops.

My Indian family left the tour to get a good vegetarian lunch in Little India and the rest of us went back to the ship for a nap.  A 6:00pm we went back out in Singapore for dinner.  This was one of my pay-as-you-go add-ons.  We went to Loulou, a French restaurant in Chinatown.  Yes, I know that sounds odd, but when the Schéres recommend restaurants to me, I listen.  It was fabulous.  We have a ton of food pictures.  The best dish was one I had never had before, at least not together – it was tartare on moelle:

Which wouldn’t be everyone’s cuppa, but sure is mine.  There wasn’t anything wrong with the bouillabaise either:

We waddled out of there and called it a night.  I tried for another bum boat ride at night, which would have been a completely different and maybe greater experience, but there were no takers.  And I wasn’t sorry to see my bed, either.

We had another day in Singapore on March 23, 2024.  Amanda and I planned time in the Little India arcade followed by an Indian lunch.  Holland America’s Zuiderdam had docked this morning and I was hoping to link up with Arthur and Linda Starr for a little fun.  It was Purim, so that was always iffy, but, in came the email and it coincided nicely with our plans.  We would just be a little later into the terminal than the Starrs. 

As it turned out, our timing was magic.  The Starrs liked the front end of my day plan and Tom Mullen was coming out at the same time. How cool is this?

Tom had a tour to lead but the Starrs had been able to free themselves up.  Off we went to Little India.  Arthur found a haircut and I found Bobby Pebbles, who sells me nice kurtis, which are about all I wear in warm weather.  Thank you, Ulla Brown, for putting me on to them fifteen years ago.  I have been in them ever since.

Amanda did some damage at Lotus Mantra, too, which is air-conditioned now.  Smart move, Bobby, it was very hot.  Banana Leaf Apolo is much improved, too, although it’s more like a food court with a restaurant in the middle of it.  They now serve Chinese specialties as well as Indian, like all the ones Eliza mentioned yesterday.  We bought what we thought was her “chicken-rice” and it was good, but the butter chicken and onion bhajis were better.  It all washed down nicely with Tiger beer.

We parted company after lunch, Amanda back to the ship, the Starrs off for more touring and me, off to Moustafa.  I needed a drugstore and the one in the Little India Arcade had closed down.  Everyone pointed me to Moustafa.  I walked, using the sheltered promenades, but it was still pig hot.  Moustafa is an enormous building, a whole city block.  There are security guards searching your bags at every entrance.  The one I needed was the second one, so there I went and found everything.  If I had had more energy, I would have explored, but the heat had done me in.  I went looking for a taxi. 

The first one I saw was being loaded up by a whole family with a trunkload of purchases.  You do your week’s grocery shopping at Moustafa, too.  Before the taxi could take off, up came a woman who disputed that family’s right to be in it as she had been first in line, wherever the line was.  The family unloaded and the two of them got in with their bags.  It wasn’t looking good for me getting a cab.  I couldn’t even figure out where the line was and who was waiting and who wasn’t.  It was shady on the side street, but the taxis were few and far between and the shoppers were accumulating.  I decided to go up to the main street and hail my cab in full sunlight.  It would be painful, but it might work.  The first one I hailed cast aspersions on my literary prowess, asking me grumpily if I could read.  His dome light read “change”  How was I supposed to know it meant off duty for shift change?  Creep.   The next one I got was more sympathetic, and I think he was off-duty, too, and just took pity on me.  I was grateful for that.

Back on board, I worked a little more, among other things, asking Bevs for invitations to be sent to remind our people of our cocktail party tomorrow night.  I went to sailaway, which was lovely, and turned in early.  It had been a busy two days.

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 3 –Sydney to Singapore..3.3 Hong Kong to Saigon

Back at sea, on March 15, everyone is raving about the wonderful party the ship put on at the Rosewood for World Cruise passengers.  The praise could not have been higher. I was sorry they didn’t serve a Chinese banquet, but completely understood how hard it would have been, with most of the guests never having had one before. Never mind, what they did serve them blew their socks off, and they do wear pretty expensive socks. They are, after all, cruising the world on the QM2. One guest went so far as to ask me if the Rosewood would share the recipe for the beef. It was that tender and tasty. Was it wagu? They couldn’t believe how good it was.   I wrote, said wonderful things and never got an answer back.  Guess they’re not sharing. 

I had some of my own TA work to do before office hour, went there and heard wonderful things about Hong Kong from a lot of people.  One of them went to Graham Street Market and loved it.  I had never heard of it, but after Internet investigation, I recognized it as the place I went to buy fresh fish to cook, when I lived in the Victoria Apartments.  It was almost directly above me.  I still remember the day I bought my fish live, had it gutted, paid for it and started down the hill.  It scared me half to death when it started flapping around in the bag about five minutes later.  I ran it back up the hill, only to be embarrassed when the fish monger took it out of the bag and showed me it was quite empty.  Their nerves twitch for up to twenty minutes. 

I dealt with a couple of my people.  Then came a very nice man who appeared to be flirting, and he was, but not for himself.  He wanted me to have dinner some night with him, his wife, and his childhood friend, who was travelling alone.  This sounded wonderful, until he told me about his friend’s dementia.  Not going there again, might do the dinner, just to help them out.  It won’t happen for a while as we are going into a very port-intensive period. 

There was a cocktail party for WC passengers in the Queen’s room to say goodbye to Captain Aseem Hashmi, who was leaving us in Singapore.  We all liked him a lot.  I went with one of my people, because her husband wasn’t feeling well, and she introduced me to my new friend, Pina.  A few hors d’oeuvres were enough for supper, after all the eating I had done in Hong Kong.

Tha next day, March 16, we docked in Chan May port for Hue, Vietnam. I woke up around three, and had trouble getting back to sleep.  It was very foggy out and the ship was sounding its fog horns at about two minute intervals.  I was glad I hadn’t booked an excursion because I had already done the ones that interested me.  I just wanted to get some sleep.  A 7:45am, still yet to dock, because of the pea soup fog, the Hotel Manager came on the PA, waking me up again, to tell us about the delay in docking and reminding us that we had to get off to have our passports stamped at the pier, if we wanted to get off at either of the other two ports, where there would be no customs officers to do it.  Duly noted.

We docked about 8:30am and it was still very foggy.  I rolled over and slept some more.  Then I got up and worked on my log and blog.  It was still very foggy at noon.  I went down and found the customs officer on the ship, near the gangway.  I also found out that there was street food on the pier, and planned to be back there at three.  It was foggier at 1:30PM than it had been at noon, when you could see a bit of a mountain in the distance.  I kept working.  At 3:00pm, the sun peeked through and I could see the mountain again.  I went out as far as the pier, bought a couple of scarves, and found the pop-up restaurant.  It was brilliant.  The squid were alive in tanks.  Feast your eyes on this ten-dollar feast:

There was not a single passenger in the place.  They would be afraid of getting sick.  There has been a lot of gastro-intestinal illness going around the ship, but it doesn’t come from squid so fresh that it was alive when you ordered it, and served piping hot, right out of the wok.  The crew have no trouble understanding it.  Best of all for them, this place had Balut.  Now, even I draw the line at Balut.  It’s a Philippine delicacy, though, also eaten in Cambodia and Vietnam.  Wiipedia says: “A balut is a fertilized bird egg (usually a duck) which is incubated for a period of 14 to 21 days, depending on the local culture, and then steamed. The contents are eaten directly from the shell. Balut that is incubated for longer periods have a well-developed embryo and the features of the duckling are recognizable. The partially developed embryo bones are soft enough to chew and swallow as a whole.” You see what I mean?  But check the look on he crew member’s face, while you are checking my fast disappearing plate:

As is my habit, I eat everyone’s meat or seafood, and nobody’s vegetables.  This is my idea of a clean plate:

I missed sailaway in my zeal to get the last Blog out.  I wasn’t hungry for dinner, so I just grabbed a couple of desserts from the trough and called it a night. 

It was a bit of a sad awakening on St Paddy’s Day, when I found out I have a client in the hospital, having just had a serious emergency operation.  They were to fly out on a Club Med Holiday in three days.  Luckily, they have good insurance, but that’s never fun for any of us. 

One of my people came to my desk to tell me how much fun they had had in Hong Kong and how happy he was with Elvon’s tailor.  He has two suits and three shirts coming to him by DHL.  They had gone on a private excursion in Hue and wanted to recommend “Les Jardins de la Carambole” in Hue.  I googled it and found out it was the restaurant we (DV) used in 2018 on Oceania.

His wife had taken her new power chair into Hong Kong and used it in the J.W.Marriott and all over Pacific Place.  She loves it.  They ate in the Marriott’s best Chinese restaurant and got a good local tour guide from the Concierge.  He wanted to thank me very much for my good advice.  I love to hear that.  Most people don’t take my advice and don’t know what they are missing.  These two will be having dinner with me in Singapore.  Good.

I needed a car and driver for Saigon, booked ahead, because one shouldn’t be out there catching a taxi, with a wheelchair bound person.  Four of us were going out for lunch in Saigon at a restaurant Daniele and Jean recommended very highly.  They had also recommended a driver, but he had never answered me, and, when queried, Daniele now couldn’t find him either.  So I googled for a bit and finally punched the country code for Viet Nam into my phone.  Up came Luat, our DV tour guide in VietNam in 2019 on Seabourn.  I sent hm a text.

Another of my people stopped by and we listened to the Captain’s noon shpiel together, as we often do.  He explained why there was no hot water in the showers this morning.  It was ship-wide, and had not been much fun.  She gave me a good trick for the next time that happens  You just crank the heat in the room all the way up and leave the bathroom door open.  Then the cold shower is just another day at the beach. 

I continued on with the car and driver project for Saigon, gathering resources from the Internet, while waiting for Luat to answer.  Presently he did and promised to help me find a car and driver.  No guarantees how much English said person would have, but we would get around. 

I had dinner with my new friend, Pina, who was born in India but has lived in the states most of her life.  We would make good travel buddies.  Since we had an early dinner, we caught the early show of “Strings Alive”, a guitar and a violin, leaping all over the stage, like a couple of kids, and they weren’t.  But that killed time before the Irish Dance performance in the Queen’s Room.  It was SRO when we got there and there were more women standing than men, while seated it was about even.  The age of chivalry is long past, apparently.  The dance performance was worth standing for, although I have no idea why they couldn’t have put it on the main stage, in a theatre that seats more than a thousand.

I was out of there in a hurry when the line dancing started.

On March 18, 2024, we anchord off Na Trang, Vietnam. I had picked a short tour, called “Street Food”. It was basically lunch, strung out over a number of places.  I was happy to see one of my people in the group waiting to be called to board the tender, and we hooked up for the day.  It was her first tender ride, ever, so she was glad of an experienced friend.  She did fine.  On the bus ride into town, our tour guide shared that the country sending them the largest number of tourists now is Korea.  She didn’t say North or South, but number two is Russia and number three, China.  The communists are traveling in droves, apparently.  I suggest you all get out there and help bring our numbers back up.

One of the best reasons to visit Vietnam is the food.  They have done a wonderful job of combining their French, Chinese and indigenous cuisines into gastronomical delights.  The ship’s shore excursion department’s idea of street food isn’t mine, but it’s probably safer and incites less panic.  All of our stops were actual established restaurants, rather than carts or stalls.  The first one taught me to appreciate Thang Nam and I’ll now be finding it on Ste Catherine Street:

This was my sampler:

And I ate every morsel of every one of them.  They were all delicious.  Next, we stopped at an even bigger restaurant and had oysters and beer.

My friend wasn’t into raw oysters, so I had another three.  And we were both happy with the beer.  The next place served us Do-It-Yourself spring rolls, which would probably have been better if they had done them for us, but they were OK.  And the last place was the worst.  All we got was a beer in a very nondescript bar, right next to a gorgeous restaurant on the beach which was mostly empty.  They needed to charge us more and put us in there to end on a high. 

Back on the ship, my Australian friend Chris, whom I had met in Cairns at the boat club, waiting for the tender, had rented a motorcycle for $8 and treated himself to some real street food, for almost no money at all.  Chris is about 65 and has been riding motorcycles for 50 years.  He was also a Navy pilot, so doubtless has nerves of steel. 

Then I had a Pizza at the Chef’s Table, chatting to Aussies, Norma and Mario and went to bed.

Back at sea on March 19, Luat came through with the car and van prices and, since you could only put 3 in the car, and we were 4, I went for the van and hoped to get a couple more to bring the price down.  But, just in case, everyone agreed to $92.50 for the day’s transportation to Saigon.  In the World Cruise lounge at tea, I ran into a couple, who were delighted to join us and so now, it’s $65 each.  Nice.

I google translated the places we wanted to go and printed it.  They were Notre Dame Cathedral, The Old Post Office, Ban Thanh Market, and The Deck.  I ate in the dining room at a share table, which I had not done in a while, and went to “The Vallies”, a Frankie Valli and the Four Seasons tribute group.  They were very good. 

The next day, March 20, we docked in Phu My port for Ho Chi Minh City – Saigon.  We all met up at the gangway and Mr Ha was a hundred feet away with his van.  We had paid an extra $100 for this, in our price, and it was well worth it.  Jeanne had to have it, and the rest of us were grateful when we saw how far it was to the port entrance.  The driver made one pit stop on the way in to Saigon, but it was so early in the game that none of us got out.  He did grab himself some lunch, though, to be sure he ate.  We loved Mr Ha.  He was a good kind man, but he did not understand us at all.  Poor Luat was called again and again to translate, and he did it cheerfully, though I know he was leading a tour of his own.  I’ll be calling him a lot sooner the next time and have him in the car with us.

Notre Dame Cathedral was covered in scaffolding and no one wanted to get off for the Post Office, so we were in the market by noon.  Even so, we only had one hour to shop.  Peggy found what she wanted right away, but the rest of her browsing was cut short by trying to sit down on a piece of luggage, and having it roll away, leaving her to land on her tush.  There are worse ways to land, but she was shaken and grateful when three little shop ladies fanned her while the rest of us went off to shop. 

It was very, very hot in there.  I would make a purchase, check on Peggy, make another purchase, check on her again.  The little fanning ladies stuck with it. Before my last purchase, she got up and moved to our appointed waiting spot.  They offered a little plastic stool.  She accepted and it was no better than the piece of luggage.  She hit the floor again.  This time Mr Ha had arrived and I managed to convey to him that he should put her in the air conditioned van, while the clock ran out and the rest of us assembled.  I made a quick purchase, and waited for the others, who were there quickly.  Our wheechair bound lady had been having the time of her life in that market.  She is one spunky lady.

Off we went to The Deck and it did not disappoint. This was my first order:

The things in the copper tumbler are soft shell crab and it was amazing.  Just about everyone else ordered them once they saw me with it.  Here’s our exceptionally happy group:

That’s Jeanne in the middle.  She weighs about 65 pounds but she’s pretty lively.  She actually came to sailaway, had a cigarillo and a gin and tonic, and asked me to email her travel agent for a quote on next year’s HAL world, on the Zuiderdam. 

I had two beers and a chocolate pear cake for dinner. 

Just before we were to leave the van, Peggy made a little speech. She wanted to tell us how this day had changed her. She had grown up in the ’60-70s in the USA, where the Vietnamese were the hated enemy. After meeting them up close in the market, and seeing how kind they were, she realized how very wrong we can be. That’s what travel will do.

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 3 –Sydney to Singapore..3.2 Bitung to Hong Kong

Well, now all the fabulous, exciting ports coming up, like Hong Kong and Singapore, are going to have to beat Bitung as the passengers’ favorite.  People were talking about it all day, on March 10.  Every one of us felt like a celebrity.  We were bathing in the warmth of Bitung’s welcome.  I spent most of the day working on and delivering Newsletter 12, attached. 

I spent most of the day, working on client issues and plugging away at this blog.  In the evening, I met those of my people who were coming to dinner tonight at Sir Samuel’s.  I was delighted that it included my caregiver and her charge.  It was so rewarding to see her up, out, alert, eating and smiling.  We had a very nice time together.

With only 2 days to go until Hong Kong, March 11 was busy with preparations.  I wanted to be sure everyone had the best time ever.  There was one couple staying in Pacific Place and going to Elvon’s tailor, and a couple of others who were adventurous enough to take my advice.  And I was working on addresses in Chinese for all, just in case.

Liz came along to pay for lunch in Bitung, which I had put on my credit card. Two of the seafood nasi gorengs, most expensive on the menu, and three pints of beer, came to $21.16, total.  Liz was so happy, she decided to treat me, so I got that lovely lunch for the tip I left, which had been the last of my rupiah.

I went to the Commodore Club at 6:30pm, ,had a very nice time in congenial company, and ate alone in the dining room, as I am still coughing and don’t want to scare anyone. 

March 12 was much the same.  David Pong wrote to say he had had a relapse of the bug that’s going around and wouldn’t be showing me around the new HK Palace Museum after all.  I decided that was fine, because I am just recovering, myself and saving the energy was probably a good thing. 

I ate alone one more time and missed the show because I wanted to go to bed early before my two big days in Hong Kong.

On March 13 I woke up in Hong Kong.  I had packed yesterday for my overnight in Wanchai.  My backpack contained my computer, chargers for it, phone and watch, toothbrush, dopp kit and these clothes:

I was wearing boots, my light raincoat, black yoga pants, a long sleeved black leotard top and a diaphanous blouse.  At various times I wore every piece you see except the second pair of disposable underwear. 

Since I wasn’t going to the HK Palace Museum, and was traveling light, I decided to get to the Grand Hyatt the touristy way.  I left my room at 9:40am and went through customs at 10:00am, quickly, by facial recognition.  It was a long walk through the parking garage to the ship’s shuttle.  The new KaiTak Cruise Terminal is a work in progress and it’s pretty basic at the moment.  That explains why I couldn’t find a decent restaurant in it. Soon come, I’m sure.  At 10:45, the bus deposited us on Chatham Rd, with the usual instructions to take pictures of the surroundings so we could get back to the bus and the caution that the last bus was at 10:00pm.  I didn’t care.  I wasn’t coming back.  I just had myself pointed towards the Star Ferry and off I went along Chatham Rd to Salisbury Rd.  I crossed over to the waterfront at the HK Museum of Art and walked along the Avenue of the Stars to the Star Ferry.  I missed the 11:00am ferry by a couple of minutes and sat down to wait.  It never takes very long for another ferry to appear and I was soon on my way to Wanchai.  I took this picture of the ferry to Central and the Chinese Resort Ship that was docked in Ocean Terminal, where I would have wished the QM2 was. 

I was living in the nearer black building with the red bands, when I met Elvon.  Not all of the buildings you see here were there, then, certainly not the enormous IFC tower.  You see it better in this shot:

And if they call the thirty-story building behind the Ferris wheel the “thousand assholes”, you can just imagine what they call that one.  I wouldn’t be surprised if it was shaped that way on purpose.  Just before I got off the ferry in Wanchai, I got this shot in memory of Elvon.  It would have made him so proud:

That’s the new convention centre on the right, and I was staying in the Grand Hyatt, whose upper floors you can just see on the right of it.  I walked there from the Star Ferry, arriving around 11:40am.  My room was ready, so I checked in, left my backpack, used my facility and went downstairs to the taxi I had ordered on the way in. 

The taxi took me to Deep Water Bay and the Hong Kong Country Club, where I was the guest of Elvon’s old 2IC, Alwin Lam and his wife Agnes.  I had asked to bring along a friend, because I wanted Mabel Lam to meet her “relatives.”  Alwin invited the duck:

That was one oinker of a lunch, and an oinker of the very highest quality.  The Hong Country is known for the quality of its food.  Only in Hong Kong do you find a country club chef who can compete with the Michelin starred restaurants.  The members know what they want and they don’t mind paying.  It’s a terrific set-up, too.  Look at the picture again.  We are in our own private little room, where you can have any conversation you want, where the participants hear every word and there are no adjacent tables to eavesdrop.  It just doesn’t get better than that. 

We waddled out to Alwin’s car, and he had his driver drop Mabel and me at Hopewell Centre, where there was a Watson’s, easy walking distance from the Grand Hyatt.  Mabel had kindly agreed to come shopping with me, which, apart from just being fun, provided me with an interpreter and an extra set of arms to carry things.  I just needed mouthwash, elastic bandaging for my ankle and all the disposable underwear I could lay my hands on.  In Hong Kong my arse is an XL.  I bought 14 packets of 5.  They came in around 57 cents a pair.  The ship charges $3.00 to wash a pair of gotchies.  That’ll save me $170.  You can stop laughing now.  I have bought them online but not as cheap, nor as comfortable as Watsons’.  God bless uncle Li Ka-Sing.  He knows me.

Mabel and I hauled it all back to the hotel and she came up to see my view, from the seventeenth floor, which was spectacular:

I would be hosting drinks before dinner to watch the Symphony of Lights, which plays on HK buildings at 8pm every night.  Most of the buildings involved are part of this view.  I downloaded the music to my phone. 

After Mable left, I had a 45 minute bath, ordered an ice bucket for the champagne the Lams had given me at lunch time, and waited for my guests to arrive.  While I was waiting, I cleared my email and, what do you know? There were the horse race tips for the evening from our friend, Bill.  I was having dinner with Simon and Delia Clennell, Don Meyer and Cindy Kwok.  Simon, Don and Bill are all Mensa friends from my days in HK, more than thirty years ago. 

Don and Cindy arrived around 7.  We weren’t expecting Simon and Delia until dinner time.  The three of us drank champagne, ate the snacks Don and Cindy brought, and enjoyed the Symphony of Lights.  Then we went down to the eighth floor to One Harbour Road, the Grand Hyatt’s top class Chinese Restaurant.  Our table had a similar view to my room and the food was wonderful.

The picture would be clearer, if I had set the camera to auto, instead of no flash, but you get te idea and some of you know the people.  Not only is the food delicious, it’s a work of art:

And there’s nothing like being with good, old friends.  We never did bet on the horses, we just didn’t have the means to do it.  Next time, we’ll actually go to the races.

I slept like a log, with the curtains wide open and woke up on the 14^th to that view I can never get enough of.  It took me quite a while, but I managed to pack everything I brought and bought into my backpack and one small Grand Hyatt shopping bag.  Then I checked out and met my McGill friends, Lily and Alex Chu and Elizabeth Law, for Dim Sum.  I had made it easy on myself.  We went to One Harbour Road again.  This, folks is what really good dim sum looks like:

It’s subtle, but it’s in the texture of the noodle, the freshness of the ingredients, and the flavour.  You don’t get that quality just anywhere.  It’s pretty rare outside of the very good restaurants and hotels of Hong Kong.  I made a pig of myself again, aided and abetted by my good friends.  It was so great to catch up.  It is interesting how Hong Kong people now view the world.  They are quite happy under Chinese rule, as many things work very well.  They are not worried about the new security laws.  They feel safe in Hong Kong.  They are particularly disgusted with Western politics, where billions are spent on election campaigns that could be used on infrastructure, housing, health care and other worthy projects.  There’s a good point there.

While I had been savouring One Harbour Road’s food last night, the Queen Mary 2 had its gala for its world cruise passengers at the Rosewood, a brand new hotel, on the Kowloon side.

I wanted to see what the new hotel was all about, so I decided to make it my base for the afternoon.  There couldn’t be an evening meal, because we were sailing, but Mabel said she could meet me for tea or a drink at five, and that sounded good to me.   I took a taxi to the Rosewood, flashed my IATA card and asked for a tour.  It was scheduled for an hour hence and so I went down to the mall below.

It was a very fancy mall, so all I bought was a $50 tube of lipstick from Yves St. Laurent, but it will make a nice souvenir, a memory every time I use it. The tour started on time and it gave me a chance to talk to the Director of Sales about how the Cunard banquet went last night.  He told me they had served Western food because when they try to serve a Chinese banquet to 500 westerners, the questions the servers get about everything break the timing of the service.  Too bad, but it makes a lot of sense. He was happy to tell me that the Rosewood opened in 2019 and is the top hotel in Asia and no 2 in the world.  A very simple room is over $900/night and they have some serious suites.  One of them is a 5-bedroom, 5,000 sq.ft suite.  It was rented to a celebrity for the 3 years of COVID. 

After my tour, and because of everything I had eaten in the past two days, all I wanted was water.  I went to the ground floor restaurant and asked for a glass, explaining my case, a bit.  The servers couldn’t have been nicer.  Over a period of about an hour they served me four glasses of water and I drained them all and used the facilities a couple of times.  No charge.  Dress well and go to the best places.  Always.

Mabel appeared about a quarter to five and I still wasn’t ready to eat anything, so we asked my nice server about our choices of bars.  Their lobby bar, the Darkside, is listed among the 50 best bars in the world so we went there.  The name comes from when Kowloon was referred to as the dark side of HK because all the skyscrapers were on the HK side, so as not to interfere with the airport, which has now moved to Lantau island.

The ceiling treatment was mesmerizing.  Those are hour glasses, containing varying amounts of white sand, flowing at varying speeds.  

There we sat, enjoying our expertly made cocktails, well attended to and happy.  Too soon it was 6:45 and I needed to get back to the ship for 8:00pm all aboard.  Of course, that 8:00 pm was an assumption, based on the fact that we were sailing at nine.  Had I been on board to read last night’s Daily Programme, I would have known that all aboard was actually 7:30 and when I clocked in on board at 7:32, I was the very last passenger to board. 

I went to sailaway and to bed without any supper.  I didn’t know if I would ever want to eat again.

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 3 –Sydney to Singapore..3.1 Cairns to Bitung

It’s March 1 and I am going into high gear in preparation for Hong Kong.  I won’t be going to the ship’s big ToDo in the Rosewood, because I have friends to catch up with.  I still want my people to have the best time each of them can have.  There’s a lot to do and conversations to have.  Hong Kong is the most crowded place in earth.  It’s intimidating and there’s good reason for it.  You can get lost and you don’t speak the language, not anymore.  You’re fine in the hotels and fancy shops but you can’t spend all your time there, and you shouldn’t.  I was having private conversations with just about everyone to try to ensure they had the best time ever, in the city that I love so much.

I also have shore excursions coming up in Singapore and Phuket and it’s time to start communicating with the tour operators.  I acted on Daniele’s always reliable restaurant suggestions and booked “The Deck” in Saigon, which is Asian fusion and bound to be great.  Then I put it, as well as LouLou in Singapore, into Newsletter 11, which I delivered later in the day.

I had dinner with one very nice couple and the singer in the Royal Theatre was the best of those, yet.  She performs in a sequined tux, and no nonsense shoes.  She’s not young but she’s full of energy.  Her name is Lisa Crouch and she has a great voice.  She did Tina Turner, ABBA, etc.  

The next day, March 2, we docked in Yorkey’s Knob, for Cairns Australia.  Before I could go out, I had some work to do.  Then I went walkabout in Cairns or maybe it was just Yorkey’s Knob.  The tender ride put us down at a boat club, not the public pier I was used to.  It wasn’t right downtown, like the old public Pier.  It was out in the burbs.  Like getting dropped off at the Royal St. Lawrence, when you want to visit downtown Montreal.  There was a shuttle, but it only took us to the nearest suburb, which was, at least, a waterfront one.  It’s esplanade was somewhat developed, so after I addressed my pharmaceutical needs, I was able to find a decent bistro.  It was called “Little Sisters” and the kingfisher carpaccio was yummy.  There were slices of jalapeño and roe in the sauce.

Then I walked back to a gelato place I had spotted and got a two scoop sugar cone, one chocolate sorbet and one hazelnut.  That was a tad too distracting, so I took a left where I should have taken a right and walked three long blocks before I found and fixed the error.  My left ankle will not be pleased tomorrow.  I was three minutes past my personal deadline to be on the bus, but 37 minutes before the last bus, so all was well. 

The bus got me to the boat club by 4:24pm, for a 5:00pm last tender.  Only the tender operation was so backed up that we must have waited two hours.  There had to be 300 people there when I got there and there were more buses coming.  I blessed the fact that I needed to use the bathroom, when I found out there was a party of sorts going on at the club.  The poor members were drowning in a sea of well, us.  The smart ones of us.  There were still a few seats at tables on the deck, when I got out of the loo, so I ordered a beer and settled in. 

After about a half-hour the live music started.  It was hotter than hell, but sitting down with a cold beer, on a covered deck, listening to music sure beat standing in line in the sun. 

After a day like that, I enjoy sailaway and a little pizza at the Chef’s table.  I skipped the magic show, as I would have had to wait until 10:15pm for it and book and bed were calling.

Ofice hour was busy at sea on March 3.  The new people came to see me and are coming on the tour in Singapore.  They also want to come to LouLou with Amanda and me.  We’ll be talking more as they also want to go to the Marina Bay Sands at some point to be on top of that big boat in the sky.  The way to do it is KU-DA-TA or one of The Marina Bay Sands’ restaurants and we found an Italian one online that looked great to them.

The husband knows Hong Kong from business trips and was dying to show it to his wife.  So, I suggested they just book a room in Pacific Place on the HK side, which is far more interesting anyway, they can walk to the Peak Tram and my husband’s tailor, best in HK.  They liked the idea of the mall and of using the hotel concierge to find them a car and guide. 

It was another dinner in The Verandah Steakhouse with my new friends.  It was perfectly lovely.

March 4, we were at sea again and there was more work to do.  Some people’s plans for Hong Kong make me very nervous, like the one who plans to go out on his own looking for a department store in Kowloon where he had bought or had shirts made long ago.  I asked him when but he didn’t remember.  Kowloon is not my area of expertise, but I was pretty sure there wasn’t a department store in the area he was describing.  This really made me go to work on Hong Kong Addresses for taxi drivers in Chinese characters.  Anyone who goes out alone, including me, needs to be carrying such a thing.  I started working on it.  As I worked, I noticed that I was feeling worse and worse.  I filled myself up with cold meds and started taking Cipro.  I had been invited to a Captain’s Cocktail but decided I had better not take my germs there.  I took a nap, ordered room service, watched Golda, with Helen Mirren, and the port talks for Darwin and Bitung. 

Still at sea on March 5, 2024, it was a quiet day at the desk, which was good, because I wasn’t feeling all that great.  Cunard gifted us with a World Cruise Diary, two months in.  I had to buy my own in NYC and now have to buy another because I am almost through it. 

I went to the Chef’s Table, where I could eat at a table for one.  I had my bottle of wine brought from the Britannia dining room, because I’ll do this for at least two days.  I went to bed early but had trouble sleeping for the coughing. 

On March 6, 2024, we docked in Darwin, Australia.  I should have turned in my Territory Park Tour in a couple of days ago.  There was no way I was going to make it.  I was too sick to even call the Medical Department to deal with it.  I’m self-medicating with Cipro and it will probably work, but it’s costing me the price of the tour.  I finally got to sleep around one this morning, and the phone rang at three, even though it was in airplane mode.  It was on WiFi, though so maybe that’s why, and maybe I could have picked up, but I was too sick for that.  I texted the caller and went back to sleep.  When I got up I dealt with it. 

I was glad it was a port day and I didn’t need to go to the desk.  I had tea in my stateroom and spaghetti at Chef’s Table and watched a cute movie about a cyclist whose dad was a stonecutter.  I never saw the name of it but AI gave it to me when I asked.  It was “Breaking Away”.  I’m overcoming my fear of AI, which may be more dangerous. 

Back at sea on March 7, my mobile phone has lost its mind.  Sometime in the night, it left Darwin and went back to Sydney time.  That caused it to wake me up at 7:00am ship’s time, which was all I needed when I wasn’t feeling well. I reset it for 9:00am.  I woke up then, feeling much better and took more meds to keep it that way.  No one came to the desk which was perfect for me, and probably them.  I did some personal business and took the Bitung shorex I had booked in for a refund. 

I dined at a table for one in Britannia, finishing off that bottle of wine.  I think it was it’s fifth night.  I am getting four to five nights out of a bottle, nowadays.  Sad, but economical, at least.  

Still at sea on the morning of March 8, it was my turn to get the time wrong and I ended up hustling through my shower and exercises with Miranda Esmonde-White on my computer.  I discovered that I have more mobility when my hair is still wet, meaning my body is still warm from the shower.  Must do it this way more often.  It’s easier and probably more beneficial.

In a strange coincidence, two couples stopped by to talk for a bit, neither of whom were my people, but one couple was from Santa Rosa, the other from Montreal, and the Santa Rosa couple had HK accents.

Liz, my caregiver passenger,  came by to tell me that now her charge has thrush from all the antibiotics.  This care-giving aboard thing is like Whack-a-Mole.  Sad for both of them.  At least they have a nice new ADA room and they are loving it.  I sent in a log and posted its companion blog.  Then I went to the dining room and ate alone again.  I was getting steadily better and full of Cipro, but with all the sickness on the ship, no one wants to be near anybody who is coughing, and I still was. 

On March 9, we docked in Bitung, Indonesia. I got up early, worked on the Chinese addresses some more, called everyone to remind them of dinner tomorrow night in Britannia, and went out to meet Liz in the Terminal at eleven.  The plan was a pharmacy run, a walk and lunch.  The pharmacy run turned out to BE the walkabout, as we got lost.  There hadn’t been a ship to visit this port in more than eight years.  It’s not much of a port and it needs the business.  It felt like the whole town had turned out to meet us.  It probably helped that it was a Saturday.  We were the attraction for the family outing.  At first we were leery of everyone wanting to have their pictures taken with us, but once it became clear that they weren’t asking for money, we relaxed a bit.  When it kept happening, it became less and less annoying, and more and more fun, and our smiles became more and more genuine. 

The first pharmacy we found after much asking, sans language, actually had what I wanted, more guaifenesin, phenylpropanolamine etc. cold stuff.  You know, that which they say doesn’t work, only it seems to for me.  Thrush medication was more elusive and somewhat embarrassing to ask for in sign language.  We ended up retracing our steps to where we thought we might have made a wrong turn and, from the other side of the street, it was obvious that all we had had to do was keep going. 

Through all this, Liz got treated to Helen, in her starring role as the world’s most nervous pedestrian.  You don’t want to be near me when there’s a busy street and no crosswalk.  You can’t try to take my arm because I might bolt in the middle, taking you with me and get us both killed.  I told her this, and she didn’t, and a couple of nice policemen helped us across the street and then wanted pictures with us.  I do like this one.

After Liz had completed her business in the pharmacy, they were still outside, so I asked them where we should go for some good nasi-goreng.  That caused a lot of discussion between them and they finally decided we would be happiest at the restaurant on the way back to the ship, which had put up an entertainment tent extending the restaurant over the sidewalk and into the street. 

Were they ever right.  Not only did we love Bitung, like the sign said, we also loved:

And the nasi goreng was delicious, and the entertainment was fun. Some of the local police gals joined one of our passengers and

We could have stayed all afternoon, but Liz had to get back to Jeanne, so we made our way back to the ship, having our pictures taken and signing autographs, all the way.

Liz got creative when she was presented with a whole blank copybook page and wrote “My name is Elizabeth, like the Queen of England”.  That would be a hard act to follow for most people, but yours truly wrote “My name is Helen, like Helen of Troy, the face that launched 1000 ships.”  I always groan when people say “Helen of Troy” on meeting me, but I was glad of it, just then.  We hope the kid got an “A” on his assignment for that trophy. 

Back on the ship, I had a little nap and took a shower and a phone call from one of my people, to say she would be coming to dinner tomorrow.  Sailaway was fabulous.  It looked like the whole town had turned out at the pier to bid us farewell.  It got dark before we left and the shore was alit with cell phone flashlights. 

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 2 –Cape Town to Sydney  2.4 Melbourne to Sydney

It was February 25 and things were starting to move faster and faster.  Two couples would leave us in Sydney, so I’ll be meeting them for cocktails tonight, with whoever else still remembers the newsletter I got out on the 22^nd, before Melbourne.  Hooray, the games and puzzles came out again, in the corridor I walk to get to my desk.  They had been put away, while we were battling the various infections. 

The invitations for the big World Cruise ToDo onshore came out last night.  Rats, it’s in Hong Kong, the last place in the world that suits me.  If you ask me, it shouldn’t suit anyone.  There’s a lot a person can do with an overnight in Hong Kong and a feeding at the communal trough for 500 will just get in the way.  So, I won’t be going.  I already have $500 sunk into a non-refundable room at the Grand Hyatt.  

I bought the disembarking passengers a last drink.  No one else came, but one of my single ladies stopped by, just as they were leaving.  She introduced me to her friend, Paul Curtis, a writer in residence on the ship.  He wrote “High Tea on the Cunard Queens”.  In its review, Amazon says he has an off-beat sense of humour and I got an example.  Apropos of nothing, I remarked that, when I started working, there were very few women in jobs other than teacher, nurse or secretary.  As a result, my colleagues were almost all male and I worked hard to be “One of the boys”.  So he asked me if I scratched myself inappropriately.  I didn’t and have to wonder if that’s why I hit the glass ceiling?

We docked in Sydney, Australia, on February 26^th.There was just a little work that had to be done early in the morning.  I did it and went out in Sydney.  I only had one taker for visiting the Museum of Contemporary Art, but we had a super good time.  The tour was on Tacida Dean, who does a lot of things, with just about every medium known to art, including film, in this day of everything digital.  I think my favorite was ‘The Story of the Lemon that grew Hair’.  To be honest, our real favorite was lunch.  It was at Graze MCA, outdoors on the patio of the MCA.  What’s not to like about this view?  

Yes, that bottle neck was on our table and yes, that’s the famous Sydney Opera House peeking out from under the bow of the QM 2.  The weather was perfect.  The menu was interesting and well executed.  I especially enjoyed my fresh local oysters and Peggy and I enjoyed getting to know each other better.  I can recommend this little outing wholeheartedly, especially for people who need to conserve energy, because we’re old and all.  This was the view from my stateroom balcony:

I did have local knowledge to rely on for the MCA Graze coup, and it came from Helen Pakchung and Nick Hamilton-Kane, whom I was meeting for supper.  I strolled around the rocks for just a bit after lunch, came back rested, cleared my email and went out ato meet them at another of their brilliant recommendations.

Café Sydney is on the roof of the old customs house and it’s fabulous – all of it, the view, the food, the wine, the service, the lot.  I had more oysters on the half shell, kingfisher carpaccio, and an excellent chocolate dessert.  I want to highlight the wine, because it was interesting.  We decided on a Pinot Grigio and asked the sommelier to recommend.  He came back with two tastes, one a typical run-of-the-mill very good PG, and the other, rich and full bodied, which you don’t expect in a PG, but it was delicious.  I chose it, price unknown, and it was almost twice the price of the first one, but worth every penny.  Gweily Pinot Grigio.  I just googled it and I can’t find it – must be spelling it wrong.  Did I mention the view?  Here are the Helens and the Queen Mary 2:

Helen and Nick walked me home, and you can just imagine how far that was from the pictures.  Nick took them, by the way and this is a really good one:

How good is that?  And I couldn’t resist going out on my balcony when I got to it and this isn’t too shabby, either:

And so to sleep, with one of the best views on this earth.

Still in Sydney on the 27^th, my very shore excursion taking group opted for more of that rather than Dim Sum in Sydney, but you couldn’t keep me away from it.  Before I went out, I was happy to read that we would now be in port in Singapore with the Zuiderdam and there would be a chance of meeting up with the Starrs, and all.  I checked the berthing arrangements on http://www.whatsinport.com and we are both at the Marina Bay Cruise Terminal, which will make it easy.

Around noon, I got off the ship and got the tram, between the dock and the Customs House.  It’s so easy in Sydney now, you just tap your card to a post and board.  Only I didn’t tap hard enough, or at the right angle, because it didn’t take.  Luckily, I made friends on board with a couple of nice Uni students, who pledged to help me find The Eight, Zilver’s new high-end offering in the dim sum market.  Good thing, too, because my card wanted to start a new trip when I tapped to sign off the old one.  With their help we managed to end that new trip, and my credit card hasn’t been charged anything at all.  I did everything right on the return trip and there’s no charge for that either.  How nice of the Sydney Transit Authority.  The kids walked me to The Eight and I invited them to join me, which would have been great fun for me, but they did have class. 

The dim sum place looked perfect:

And the dim sum looked good:

Yes, I ate every bit of that and three daan tarts, too.  It wasn’t a patch on regular Zilver, though.  Never mind, I am going to Hong Kong.  The dim sum cart pushing ladies loved my red and gold Zulu necklace.  No, not THAT one, a much more subdued version, but the Chinese love red and gold, especially near Chinese New Year.  The lady who served me in the pharmacy commented on it, too.  For a five buck necklace, it’s doing very well. 

Paddy’s Market is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays so I got back on the tram to The Rocks.  They have a Gelato place between the tram stop and the dock area, so I got a chocolate sorbet on a sugar cone and sat down and ate it on the dock. 

The sailaway was stunning.  It was sunset so we started out all taking pictures of each other like this:

And finally the farewell shot, from the stern:

Then I went in and has a pizza at The Chef’s table.  My server loved my red and gold Zulu necklace, too.  After dinner, it was still early so I called the Mamos again to welcome them and left a message.

Back at sea on the 28^th.  Every so often, at my desk, I venture to help some random person who has a question.  A nice man, who boarded yesterday, wanted to know how to sign in to the Internet and I was stupid enough to offer to help.  A half hour later, his phone still couldn’t reach the Internet, but his wife was next in line at Cunard’s help desk, and they eventually solved it. 

The ship sent out invitations for tonight’s DV cocktail party.  The WC lounge had scones and tea and all again, which was wonderful.  The new people never showed up for their own cocktail party.  It was pretty intimate.  At one point I mentioned I had a French restaurant in Singapore , highly recommended by certified gourmet French friends.  I got a taker.  Another of my single ladies thought that sounded just right for her.  At the end of the cocktail party, I went to dinner with just one guy and that was good, too.

Still at sea on February’s extra day, I did some work and I booked Loulou. 

I had tea in the WC lounge with some Quebecers, and had dinner in the Verandah with one of my single guys, who had a voucher for two, doubtless from his TA.  I was happy to be the beneficiary. We finished off in the Royal Theatre with Aussie comedian, Darren Sanders, the best comedian we have seen yet.

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 2 –Cape Town to Sydney  2.3 Perth to Melbourne

We were back at sea on February 18.  Orsi and I met with the tech support for the room Cunard is providing for my HK talk.  All free, as it should be.  Listen up, Holland America.  I got an email from the General Manager of RPYC thanking us for our visit and warning us that he had just tested positive for COVID.  I notified the QM2 people by phone and the Volendam passengers by email.  I spent the rest of the day working on my HK presentation and notes, had a nice dinner and skipped the show because I had seen it. 

The next day, the 19^th, I was still working on my Hong Kong talk.  Since I have decided to book in to a Central Hotel to avoid the hassle of having to travel around, I’ll be recommending it in my talk.  I researched a bunch of hotels at varying prices.  While I was at it, I looked at Singapore, just for fun.  The Marina Bay Sands is sold out for the night we are there, and Raffles wants $1566.  The next thing I checked was where the ship would be docked and, luckily, it’s the Marina Bay Cruise Terminal, so we can stay aboard and still be fine.  I remember the days when the Wescotts would go stay in the Marina Bay for the free WiFi.  Glad those are over.

Eleven people came to my talk on Hong Kong, including my very fragile lady, who followed it like everyone else.  I think everyone enjoyed it.  They asked a bunch of pertinent questions, but they are a shore excursion taking group and not many will go off the beaten path, which they can be led down.  That’s OK.  I just wanted them to know what’s out there.

I had a drink at the Commodore Club, dinner at a big table, skipped the sand painter on the main stage and finished “Midnight’s Children” in bed. 

First thing in the morning of February 20, my caregiver passenger was at my desk to crow about her charge’s progress.  She has every reason to.  I saw it yesterday. I rejoiced with her.  Her charge is so much brighter, eating more and managing the step into the bathroom herself.  They will be getting an ADA stateroom after Sydney and I told her not to cancel it.  We sure are enjoying her victory now, though.  We worked on a car and driver for them in Adelaide and I continued my research for a good winery that had chardonnay.  It’s not the prevalent grape in this part of Australia, but it’s our patient’s favorite. 

On February 21, we docked in Adelaide, sadly without an overnight for me to enjoy the Royal South Australian Yacht Squadron’s hospitality.  So I just went in to town.  Adelaide has a nice walkable downtown, with malls built in behind the major stores.  They call the whole thing Rundle mall.  Montreal could take lessons here.  

What a great idea for Ste Catherine street.  I had a pedicure in one of the malls.   The lady in the seat beside me was interesting.  She was born and grew up in London, had lived in Hong Kong, worked as a mid-wife in Australia and was about to go to Costa Rica to teach English as a Second Language.  All I had time for after my pedi was a food court lunch.  I hoped the Dim Sum one would be good.  It wasn’t.

I got back to the ship, took a little time-out and went to sailaway on Deck 8. I had gnocchi carbonara at the Chef’s Table, which works well after a sailaway.  I met Mike and Nancy, Torontonians, and we talked a lot about Canada and Hong Kong.  It was good.  I made it to the show, too, which was a pianist with good patter, Bayne Bacon from Texas, whom I didn’t expect down under.

At 3:18 in the morning of February 22, my TV came on all by itself and I came to, with an avatar donning a life jacket on the screen.  That was a tad disconcerting but I went to the ships navigational channels, and all was normal on both of them.  No alarm was sounding, so I did the usual and went back to sleep.  One of my people stopped by the desk to tell me there’s an informal BYOB in the WC lounge starting up.  Must check it out – or not.  She had the same 3AM rude awakening that I did. The captain explained it in his noon briefing. They had a problem that caused them to re-boot the entire ship’s electrical system at 3AM and, in the process, every TV set on the ship came on, with the safety drill playing. It woke up every single passenger and crew member. The captain apologized nicely. I trust he also put some software people to work so that it doesn’t happen again.

I wrote and delivered a newsletter today because there are two couples getting off in Sydney and there should be at least a cocktail for them.  I’ll be sorry to see them go.  They came to everything.

I had a nice diner with a table of mostly Aussies and decided to take in the movie “Australia”, with Nicole Kidman and Hugh Jackman, which was playing at 9PM.  They had gone to the matinee. They warned me that the sound was ‘off’ such that the music was drowning out the words.  They had reported it, so it might have been fixed.  It had not.  I stuck it out for almost an hour before I gave up.  Maybe we are all going deaf.  The Aussies had seen it five or six times before, so it didn’t bother them as much.

On February 23, we docked in Melbourne, where I have great plans, and all of a sudden my own travel clients need me and my travel insurance company is offering last year’s prices when I renew for $25.  Then there were things to do because there are clients who are joining in Sydney.  I dealt with all of it and took the shuttle into town.  I was most impressed by the number of gyms that we passed.  It matched with my observations of the people you see on the street.  The Aussies, at least the younger ones, are very fit, indeed.  I engaged the local volunteer, where we got off, as to how to get in to central Melbourne and when the last shuttle would be tonight.  I later found out it was ten o’clock, which meant to me that I would be taking an Uber, which would have been fine, anyway.  A busybody of a passenger overheard the question and said they would be closing the dockyard at 10PM and I wouldn’t be allowed back on the ship until morning if I didn’t make it.  That was going to mess with my dinner plans, big time.  Our restaurant reservation was for 8:15. 

I filed that away and walked into town.  Melbourne is laid out even more neatly than Adelaide and they give you a map so you can really see it.  Just across the Tarra river from where we were let off is the Flinders Street Station.  Apart from being the railway line, it’s on a tram line that makes a neat rectangle around the central business district or CBD, as the locals call it.  Better yet, the tram is free and best of all 99 Spring St, where I was meeting my friends, was on that City Circle tram route. 

I didn’t take a tram right away, I just kept walking into the centre and found the Block Arcade, where I had had such a nice tea about ten years ago. 

Inside was my oasis:

I had a plate of triangle sandwiches and this:

The place is steeped in history and the menu features it.  Enlarge and read these little stories:

Since I had my gall bladder out, which was December 8, I have had to stay near a potty for an hour or so after the afternoon tea that is my breakfast.  So I asked my server where the WC was.  She gave me directions and the combination to get in.  On the way there I met Ceri and Andy, friends from the ship.  I pointed them to the Hopetoun Tea Room and went to the WC.  Then I circled the entire block, window shopping all the way, and went to the WC again.  Now I was ready to board the tram.

My plan was to go the long way around from where I was, to arrive at my destination at the appointed hour of 7pm.  So I took the Collins street tram to almost where I was going and got on the City Circle tram, going the opposite way.  That was fine until it dumped all of us at Docklands, because the City Circle was over for the day and he was heading for the barn.  So I took a second tram for two stops , and got on a third going in the direction I needed.  It turned out to be the 30a, rather than the 30 and was going to leave the circle and go north in a couple of stops.  I was being helped by some local students, who were vastly improving my opinion of the younger generation.  I got off at Flagstaff gardens to wait for my fourth tram.  Flagstaff Gardens is a very pretty park, and my number 30 arrived promptly.  Then it got tricky.  I would have to take it out of the free zone and catch my fifth tram out there where you pay and I didn’t have a ticket.  I didn’t know if the ticket obtention process would be as simple as a credit card tap or something impossible from where I was.  So, I got off at Spring Street and walked the rest of the way.  It was a nice walk, past a university and Parliament house, which looks pretty much like every one in the world these days.

I arrived and was met at the curb and escorted to the 25^th floor, where I was presented with this stunning view. 

I was particularly drawn to the middle crane’s bucket, which looks so much like a man hanging there.  There were stunning views on three sides of this apartment.  It sure is nice having friends in high places.  My hosts were Peter Hosking, Jo Mayfield’s son, and his partner Kristine Nelson, to whose brother this fabulous apartment belonged.

We got along like a house on fire, drinking sparkling shiraz, which is a thing in Melbourne, shiraz being the local grape.  I get it and I also got that it was delicious.  There was a book on the coffee table that I now have to buy:

I told them about the curfew, not sure enough of my information to want to disobey it, and they said not to worry.  The apartment has a guest room.  Of course it does.  We called the restaurant and begged them to let us in a bit early, but it didn’t help.  The main course had not come by 9:11, when Peter checked his watch.  I would have had to get up and leave that minute.  Instead, I accepted the guest room with pleasure and started to relax and enjoy my evening even more, if that was possible. 

The restaurant is called Embla, and it is brilliant, especially so for carnivores like the three of us.  Where will I ever again find a chicken skin crisp on a menu? We ordered those, the raw beef, and the vongole and pork sausage for appetizers.  Then we ordered more chicken skin crisps, with our mains.  Those were the milk roast half chicken, the spiced 9+ wagu karubi, and the heirloom tomatoes.  We had desserts, too.  We took pictures but we forgot for the appetizers and started eating the other two courses before we remembered, so there’s nothing pretty to show you.  That’s a testament to how good it all was. 

To top it all off, my new besties are Dim Sum lovers, too, and there was a good dim sum place within easy walking distance of the apartment.  Tomorrow was looking as good as today.  We finished our meal at Embla and waddled back for after dinner drinks and beddy-bye.  I slept like a log, likely because I had had more to drink than any other night in the last 4 years.  It was still moderate compared to my younger days, and I had no ill effects at all.

I did sleep in until after nine, on February 24, and got up to find Peter and Kristine in the living room with the gorgeous view still in place.  We shared a few secrets and I found out how good stem cell injections are from someone who has had more than one joint fixed.  That’s where I’ll be taking my beleaguered ankle when I can’t stand the pain any more. 

Off to dim sum.  The place is politically incorrectly called “Shark Fin Inn”.  Yes, shark fin dumplings are available but no, we did not order them.  There were plenty of other favorite items to pig out on.  You never saw such a trio for liking the same things. 

After dim sum, I had an hour to kill and the Melbourne Convention and Exhibition Centre is right across the street from the Pan Pacific hotel, where I was meeting Linda and Bev – yes, from Montreal.  A few people had suggested BBC Earth to me, and so I went and saw:

I realized that Holland America had shown it on last year’s world cruise and Cunard had probably shown it in the Planetarium on board the Queen Mary 2, but this was better because of the vastness of the space, the creative way it was shown, and the very flexible seating. 

Then I crossed the street to the Pan Pacific to meet Linda and Bev, who are here for one of Linda’s conferences.  

I passed on my two Melbourne restaurants, as they have five days, and because I am so late getting this out, I already have their report.  Embla and Shark Fin Inn provided their two best meals in Melbourne.  Remember that.  This journal is good for something.

When I got back to the ship, I had quite a lot of work to do and another quick dinner in the little Italian restaurant that is fast becoming my go to. 

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 2 –Cape Town to Sydney  2.2 Mauritius to Perth

After my successful shopping expedition in Mauritius, on February 9 I was happy to have new clothes to wear for the seven sea days coming up.  I did some more research on Melbourne and Sydney to see what value added I might bring to the experience.  I found a Peter Hosking in my database, in Melbourne and wrote to see if he might be a tour guide I had used before.  I don’t know where the rest of the day went, but we had a good pianist on stage.  He was Tim Abel and I would go see him again. 

The next day, the 11^th, One couple came to tell me that they had handed their visas in, which reminded me to hand in all the ones that I had done.  That way, the ship won’t charge for doing them.  I since found up their rate was $15 per visa, which we all would have paid gladly not to have had to go through the processes.  Three more people stopped by on various bits of business.  Ten of us had dinner in Britannia and we got the Captain’s Table, which was very nice.  You always see the same people.  On this cruise, I see most of them but dinners don’t work for people who barely eat, or have allergies, or are vegan.  I’ll probably never need more than the Captain’s table.  It was a fun dinner and I made it better by buying three bottles of wine for it. Tonight we had another repeat production show, so I gave it another pass. 

Nobody came to the desk at all,the next day,  so I worked on air for my own clients and on our meeting up with the Volendam in Perth.  It had started out with me meeting my one client on the Grand Australia, and there are now nine people joining us from that ship.  And, yes, I know every one of them.  Three were DV people from last year and the rest just friends of theirs and mine.  The entertainment on the main stage was Susannah Miranda and she was good.

We were still at sea on February 13.  They have stopped serving tea in our lovely World Cruise lounge, so I have been getting it at the buffet, and it’s not nearly as nice.  Same food, but the place has no charm.  I had a nice table for dinner, though and went to the main stage show.  It was 4 male singers from the West End, all of whom were good, but the group had little collective charm and I didn’t even like the music.  It was Rock On but it was 2000s music and it didn’t rock me one bit.

Next morning brought email from Peter Hosking, who turned out to be Jo Mayfield’s son, who had once visited us in Napa, with her, when he was working in New York.  He was no tour guide but happy to have dinner with me on our overnight in Melbourne.  That’s probably all I need.  I can’t drink wine like I used to. 

Valentine’s Day can be sad when you don’t have a partner, but I was lucky enough to get a good dinner table that included the Bridge Instructor and his wife, who are from Victoria, B.C.  The pianist, Tim Abel, was excellent again. 

February 15 was anther day at sea.  I did some personal taxation work, so much fun, and got myself a room to give a talk about Hong Kong.  I’ll be giving it on February 19, so another newsletter is in order.  I started working on it, well, them, the talk and the Newsletter.  It’s getting a tad intense, with the good ports coming up.  The good news of the day is that my caregiver and her charge are finally getting an accessible cabin at the changeover in Sydney.  It’s a nice big one, too, a Queen’s Suite.  I checked it on the deck plan.  Wonder if they get to go to the Queen’s Grill?

On February 16, I delivered Newsletter No 9 to let people know about my Hong Kong talk and as a last call for the RPYC lunch.  I also had my HK handouts printed for review.  I have been working hard updating the talk and handout, since it was last used in 2016.  Working on HK caused me to smarten up and book myself in to the Grand Hyatt in Wanchai.  Why would I stay in Kai Tak?  This will mean I can be in the middle of things and have dinner in Wanchai or Causeway Bay and Dim Sum at One Harbour road the next day.  Oh, yes!

I really enjoyed dinner tonight with three of my favorite people on board.  I wanted them to meet each other because I just thought it would work, and it did – in spades.  Now we’ll be going to The Verandah together sometime soon.  We’re losing yet another hour tonight and it’s beginning to take its toll, so I went to bed early.  Tomorrow is a big day.

Early On February 17, 2024 we docked in Fremantle for Perth, Western Australia  Getting 12 people from two ships together to go on an outing is a lot like herding cats.  The smarter the people are, the harder it is, because they second guess you.  Luckily I had a point person on the Volendam who kept that group together because I was having enough trouble on the QM2, with only 2 people besides myself.  They were afraid to turn on cellular roaming for texting, so when we were all at Stairway B, but on different decks, we couldn’t get together – until we did.  I want you all to know, I have a 3-country, 2-phone plan from T-Mobile and did not even tell them I was traveling.  I only use the phone for texting, never a call, and my February bill was up 51 cents.  When I am home, the bill is $45.37 and it was $45.88.  Get that plan and have no fear.   I text like mad on cellular roaming, whenever I am in port and I use WhatsApp on the ship’s WiFi, just to be sure it’s free.  I had a couple of WhatsApp phone calls last month, too.  No charge.

Once we were off the ships and in the Terminal, we could see each other but couldn’t get to each other until we had actually exited the Terminal into the fresh air.  We divided ourselves into three Uber groups and had enough Uber Apps to cover.  The Ubers were about half the price of taxis.  That’s not true everywhere but we did check in this case, FYI.  It was a pretty ride through the town of Fremantle and along the Swan River to the Royal Perth Yacht Club.  The Club Manager came out to greet us and gave us a little tour. 

That was followed by an excellent pub lunch, the usual stuff but well executed and accompanied by four bottles of good Western Australia Wine: Castle Rock Skywalk Reisling, Howard Park Flint Rock Chardonnay, Mazza Tempranillo, and Howard Park Miamup Cabernet Sauvignon, with tasting notes.  These people were running a regatta, so they did their homework in advance and submitted it for our consideration.  We gave it an A+.  What we were really enjoying was each others’ company and the fact that we could meet like this half way around the world.  There’s something very special there.

We bought some RPCYC logo merchandise for bragging rights, and to remember the day.  Then we got one of the old members to take us to “The Bond Room” and tell us the story of their keeled over America’s Cup (see 2023).  We got into a surprisingly technical discussion on the new America’s Cup boats and “foiling”.  I had to look it up when I got back to WiFi.  It’s worth your time.  Google “America’s Cup foiling” and be amazed.  It was time.  We found three more Ubers to take us back to Fremantle, as ships do sail, even when we’re having fun.  We asked ours to give us the scenic route and we had water to our left, just about all the way. 

There was a half hour to spare before Volendam’s all aboard, so Lynann Barnes and just I spent it in the terminal catching up.  That, too, was fun.  We each boarded our respective ships and I went to sailaway and had pizza or pasta at the Chef’s Table.  I was too tired to record which.

February 2 was a busier than usual day at the desk.  There was business to do.  My care-giver passenger came to settle in cash for the burner phone purchase that had gone on my credit card, along with lunch and a pair of sandals.  She bought a couple of my art cards from me.  So did a couple of other people.  They appreciate my buying extra when I find good stuff that they couldn’t get to.  I had a very pleasant tea in the WC lounge and a fun dinner with a couple who had gone to McGill. They were from Scotland.  We had a British couple and one who had lived in South Africa for 20 years.  They had reservations about the speaker everyone was raving about.  She was a white South African, who had been Nelson Mandela’s closest aid or 19 years.  They found her incredibly naïve, and they should know.  They have kids her age, who, mind you, might have had a more liberal upbringing, as they weren’t Afrikaans.  It was a gala night and a production show, and it was very good. 

That was followed by a very uneventful day.  No one came to the desk, and I got a lot of writing and publishing done and a bit of travel work.  I went up to the Commodore Club at 7:15 for Friends of HelenM and found I didn’t have any, but it was a more interesting venue, at least.  I had a table full of Aussies for dinner and they were a lot of fun.  The main stage entertainer was Berni Flint and he was amusing enough. 

In Durban, South Africa on the 4th, I was up at 5:45am again. This time it was for a monkey tour, which turned out to be disappointing. QM2 was making her maiden call to the new Nelson Mandela Cruise Terminal in Zululand. A lot has changed since his time. The whites have all moved to the suburbs and all the various racial designations go to everything. Durban is the third largest city in South Africa. It has a new stadium which can be seen from afar and looks like a fruit basket. It’s fitting. It’s a lot more fertile here than on the other side of Africa.

It was a little over an hour’s drive to the Monkey park.  We passed a Casino on a hill, built to look like a Zulu homestead.  That means it was pretty much a dome.  In a real Zulu homestead, the animals are sheltered from predators in the middle, while the people sleep around them and protect them.  A Zulu man may marry as many wives as he can afford and each one costs a minimum of eleven cows.  It does not work the other way around.  This would not work for me.  Another interesting factoid is that Durban has the largest Indian population outside of India.  They make up 28% of all Durbanites.

The Monkey Park itself was a disappointment.  I was hoping for the hilarious interactions of monkey families, like we saw on safari in 2001, but these guys weren’t families.  They had been rescued from all over the world and were just individuals.  Except for the ring-tailed lemurs, who are an endangered species, they had been sterilized for the privilege of living here.  They were cute but they weren’t even as interesting as the ones you find in Central Park Zoo. 

We were due back at the terminal by 12:30pm.  I texted my care-giver friend from the bus and she was there using the WiFi, so it was easy to meet up.  We all had to be through customs in the terminal by 4pm and that included her charge, whom she would have to fetch from her stateroom and bring down.  We needed to be back by three, so we had no time to waste.  We got an Uber to Victoria Market and got right to it.  What I wanted was a bunch of Zulu beaded jewelry.  I had lost most of what I purchased in 2014, when I sold it in a silent auction to my people, and gave the proceeds to the ship’s charity.  I did that because the Captain had canceled the rest of our African ports that year due to an ebola outbreak and the people were mad that they didn’t get presents for their friends.  Then we missed Durban last year and found out the rest of the African ports didn’t have nearly as good shopping as Durban.  This year I bargained hard and loaded up. 

I think I could have done a little better, but we really had to get back to the ship and that customs deadline.  It took us longer than we thought, too, because there is no public WiFi in the Victoria Market and I couldn’t get an Uber.  We went back to where we had made most of our purchases to try to get on their WiFi and did better than that.  There was a tour guide there with three ladies, two French, one Italian.  His charges were going to be there for at least a half-hour, maybe more, so he asked them if they would mind if he just ran us quickly back to the ship.  I felt safe because he was wearing the very distinctive badge issued to all accredited South Africa tour guides.  He didn’t ask for money so he ended up doing better.  Between us we kicked in the equivalent of about $10.  It was our most expensive ride in South Africa, but well worth it.  We were back before three and all went very smoothly.  The captain had to call out three names around five o’clock but none of them were ours. 

I donned my biggest Zulu necklace and wore it to sail away.  The culture is different on Cunard.  They neither announce, nor promise a sail away party, but if you know where to go, there is one.  The World Cruise consultant had told me he suspected it was on Deck 8, aft.  You have to go through the lobby of The Verandah, which is the equivalent of the Pinnacle Grill on HAL.   I had an early dinner because I was pretty tired, after having got up at what I consider to be the middle of the night, and went to the early show.  On Holland America, everyone wears their best market find to sail away and we all look for the stuff and make appreciative comments.  This sail away was fun. Laurie and Yoseph were rocking the deck, but I had on the only piece of Zulu jewelry there.  It did get its appreciative comments, though.  You couldn’t miss it. 

Then it was an early dinner and a diva, Lisa-Marie Holmes.  I like divas. 

On Monday, February 5, we were back at sea and it was good thing.  I had plenty to do, organizing things to do on shore in Australian and Hong Kong.  I had bought about twenty Zulu necklaces in Durban, and was going to sell them off at cost to my people who had not been able to get to the market for various reasons, like ships shore excursions or mobility issues.  The first buyer picked the all black one, of all things.  The next picked the all red one.  There’s a pattern here.  I had thought I was going to get to keep those.  The only good thing about going back the way we came is that I’ll get to go back to the market and replace them. 

I found out we would be docked at the Rocks in Sydney, which is great, and at the Kai Tak Cruise Terminal in Hong Kong, which isn’t.  I got Newsletter 7 out to remind everyone we had a dinner tomorrow and about lunch at the Royal Perth Yacht Club.

My dinner partners shared a brilliant Cape Town driver-guide with me.  My wheelchair bound person and her caregiver need a car to go out in.  My dinner partners, a retired teacher and nurse, live in a trailer in Australia.  You meet everyone on a world cruise. 

Still at sea, on February 6, I took a picture of the ship’s floral arrangement which is now a peacock.  I like him.:

I researched what was on at the Sydney Opera House and it’s a bunch of hit arias strung together.  I am not going to a lot of work to do an outing based on that.  We get it a couple of times a week on board.

A little more Sydney research and a tip from Helen Pakchung, led me to choose the Museum of Contemporary Art for an outing in Sydney.  They have a highly rated restaurant and free tours, and, best of all, it’s an easy walk from the ship.  Speaking of Helen, we’ll be having dinner at Café Sydney, also great food and great views.  We overnight in Sydney, docked right downtown. 

I did some homework on passengers who would be embarking in Sydney, or not.  Then I tried to find the Indian stores in Mauritius that I had been told about.  The kind of thing I am looking for is not on the Internet, I am afraid.  A good central market should do me, though.  The population of Mauritius is 60-70% Indian.  What was Durban bragging about?

There were 5 of us for dinner at Coriander.  A lot of people are under the weather.  We have both respiratory and gastro-intestinal stuff going around.  They have put away all the puzzles and board games and are sanitizing like mad. 

February 7, was another sea day.  My contact  called to say there would be no Officer-Hosted dinners for a while.  I booked Dim Sum in Sydney at The Eight, which is a new restaurant, supposed to be a higher end one, by the Zilver Group.  I have loved Zilver in the past.  They had about the best Dim Sum you could get outside of Hong Kong. 

I met some of my people for cocktails and had dinner with some of the same people as before.  Three of us went on to listen to Aileen and Stix in The Golden Lion. 

Finally on Thursday, February 8, 2024, we docked in Le Port, Reunion.  There was a lot of pent-up shopping in me, and the two white kurti tops I brought with me are being held together by my efforts at camouflage embroidery.  I went into every clothing store in St. Gilles les Bains.  Luckily, I am smart enough to buy at the first store, if it has what I want.  Not that I really wanted a white embroidered blouse for 79 euros, but I was desperate.  And everything else I found was either even more expensive or not cotton and cotton is not negotiable with me.  It’s a nice little top and I had a nice little lunch at Quimper, a crèperie, Bretonne.  I pigged both a savory crepe of andouille, potato and caramelized onions AND a sweet crepe, strawberries, ice cream crème Chantilly and caramel.  I washed that lot down with a cold local beer. 

It was very hot.  A lot of the people walking by were wearing the clothes I had just seen in the shops.  I am guessing French tourists.  Most of the shops had closed for the afternoon, so I went back to the ship, after lunch.   I had dinner with a couple who live in Australia now, but had spent 1968-72 in Montreal, living on Nun’s Island.  They had some good times.  I finished off the evening with jazz in the Chart Room.

We had two port days in a row.  Next day we were docked in Port Louis, Mauritius.  By this time, I was really on a mission for white kurtis.  I bound my left ankle so I could walk farther and set off for the local market.  Not very many people from the ship did.  There was a big commercial shopping plaza near the pier, and, if you weren’t on a tour, you weren’t likely to get past that.  To do so required going down some stairs into a tunnel to get under the main highway, you see.  People are not adventurous.  They can miss the best stuff. 

I didn’t.  I found the market and came back with five kurtis of varying quality and price, the cheapest being around $15 and the best being about $40.  One of the cheapest ones wouldn’t make it through its first wash and, at $7.50, it’s not even going to get one.  One does end up with the odd second in a market.  I failed to inspect carefully enough.  I also bought six pairs of colorful cotton pants, to wear with the kurtis, and a couple of presents. 

I came back under the street to the tourist market and walked right into a lion dance:

Which gave me a taste for Chinese food, which I had in a waterfront restaurant overlooking the ship.  That’s what I call a good shore excursion.  It was a nice sail-away, too.  I hung out with one of my people for a bit and decided to try the little pizza and pasta place at the far end of the buffet.  It was a very pleasant surprise.  They serve you and cook your pizza to order.  It was even a reasonable pizza and all I needed, after having had lunch.