On Monday, April 10, 2023, we docked in Lisbon, Portugal
Nona suggested an excursion out of Lisbon, where I had just been last year, to Sintra, Queluz and Cascais and it was a good one. Queluz is a palace from the same era as Versailles and with the same kind of rich decoration. I took a good few little pages of notes, but since it is now over a month later, I really have to wrap up this project, so here are just a few pictures, no great detail, except in the decorative arts, which speak for themselves, anyway.
There was a lot of that and there’s a good story, but you can google it. Our guide had terrific commentary. It was a good day. Cascais used to be a pirate village and here it is now next door to Estoril, where the rich people hang out.
Tuesday, April 11, was a sea day. I had a cold but it wasn’t COVID, I tested. Then I went, masked, to my office hour. One of my people doesn’t think she’ll be doing a world cruise again. Cell phones have ruined it for her. Where you used to make friends waiting for a shore excursion, or a show, now everyone has their nose pointed at their device. It’s just not the same. I have to admit. She does have a point.
Another one loves the list of past cruises taken on Navigator but wonders where some of them even went. When they show a date and “Grand Voyage” for 67 days, she has to wonder “Where to?” Some she can recall, some not. I told her I would find out. That ended up taking me a couple of weeks and a lot of correspondence with the Mariner’s Society. When the answer came it was so complete that it detailed the itinerary of each cruise. Yes, I know I am ahead of myself. You get some perks for doing your homework a month late.
The Distinctive Speakers series continued at 4:00 pm, with Dee Wescott’s gorgeous underwater slides. Dee is an engaging speaker, too. She told us how she got into the sport, and talked about every gorgeous fishie, turtle and piece of coral she showed us. The audience was most appreciative. Thank you, Dee.
After dinner, there was a production show on called Rock Legends. I loved it.
Wednesday, April 12, we were in A Coruna, Spain. I had sold my shore excursion, half price, so I could fully recover from my cold. I worked on some of my own TA stuff and a question for Gus Antorcha, President of Holland America Line, who will be on board in Amsterdam,. The entertainment was a film “The Duke of Wellington” no less – pass
Still at sea on Thursday, April 13, I was feeling better so I got a bunch of client work done and worked on tomorrow’s outing with an old tablemate from Azamara, Wanda Arti, who lives in Bournemouth. We are having a bit of weather today. You should see the waves in the pool. The I called Gil Mercier in Paris and now I have a nice plan to meet Gil and Sandy when the ship docks in Le Havre.
We had the Ship’s Doctor for dinner and she was delightful. The entertainment was Anil Desai, billed as a man of a thousand voices. Few of them came close to the originals.
On Friday, April 14, we were sort of at sea. We were at anchor outside Portland, UK, when we should have been in Brest, France. The Captain’s noon announcement included the worse news that the port of Le Havre has been canceled due to a labour strike in France. We’re going to Dover. I WhatsApp’d Gil. He had some very choice (unprintable) words for the French dockworkers, including the gem that they made the NY Teamsters’ Union look like choirboys. It did look like we were making our Portland stop, though, so those plans hold. The weather is still terrible, mind you.
There were just four of us at the table for dinner and we then saw the Lyodji Duo, on the World Stage. They are an acrobatic show with light effects. It started slow but it was very good.
On Saturday, April 15, we were finally in Portland, UK. The weather was a lot better today. Nona and I went out around 10:30am and took the ship’s shuttle into Weymouth. While we were waiting for Wanda and her daughter, Katja, we walked around Weymouth and got some pounds out of an ATM. It’s a cute, touristy little town. We loved these quirky, knitted sweatered, posts.
We watched the drawbridge go up, too, and saw other tourists doing what tourists in English seaside towns do. They were having fish ‘n chips from the local Chippie, and did they ever look good:
Wanda and Katja arrived at the appointed hour at the appointed spot and off we went on our adventure as “local tourists”. Wanda used to bring the kids over here from Bournemouth for an “outing” when they were young and Katja figured we would like it, too. We did. We went past Chesil Beach, which was very near the ship, and along the rugged coast to Portland Bill lighthouse. There we ate at The Lobster Pot, a local institution. We had crab sandwiches, just like Wanda and the kids used to do, and got ourselves caught up on each others’ lives.
Then we brought Wanda and Katja back to the Zuiderdam and gave them a tour of the ship and a cocktail by the pool. Too soon, we had to hurry them off, because the ship was going to sail. It was a very fun day.
The entertainment that night was an EXC talk about bicycles. EXC is the new name for Shore Excursions. It was not my idea of entertainment.
Sunday, April 16, 2023
Dover, UK, should have been Le Havre (Paris), France
I hadn’t got over my disappointment at not being in Paris and London was too far to go. I stayed on board and cleared another pile of work. You’d think I would have had time to get more of this blog out but I didn’t. I don’t now, either. I am making it.
The entertainment was at least a live professional singer, more to my liking. I have seen her before. She’s Michelle Montouri, popular on the cruise ship circuit.
Monday, April 17, 2023
Zeebruge, Belgium
I went into Zeebruge with Nona, to walk around, see the tulips
and eat the local food.
We picked different local foods and drinks, but that’s just fine:
The evening’s entertainment was another EXC talk about HAL’s 150 years. Not memorable.
Well, the Canary Islands are part of Spain, and Morocco is almost Europe, isn’t it? On Monday, April 3, 2023, we docked in Arrecife, Lanzarote, Canary Islands
After the lesson on how much I could walk in Tenerife, I decided it was time to stay in and have rest and elevation. I also went to the spa to cancel the rest of the acupuncture. On my way there I had a bit of business with Shore Excursions and one of their people told me she had had the same experience, had stopped the acupuncture for a bit, resumed and it helped. So when Renée, the spa manager, suggested that I let her just cancel the April 5 appointment, and see where I was on April 10, the day before my next appointment, I agreed. Fair enough.
My aches and pains mostly subsided over the day, but a couple of new ones surfaced. Since I am writing this three weeks later, I can say that they didn’t persist, which is good, but do I ever hate ageing.
I got a lot of work done with my feet up and went to dinner. There was nothing in the way of live entertainment, unless you wanted a dance band or the piano bar and I wasn’t into any of that, so I read my book, which is always OK with me.
On Tuesday, April 4, we were in Agadir, Morocco. I got some work done in the morning and Nona and I went out around noon. We had heard the ship’s shuttle wasn’t going into the city, just to a sandy beach where you could eat all the sand you wanted, standing up, before you took some other form of transportation. There were a few taxis at the ship, so we started negotiating. For $15 each Hassan would take us to the souk and wait for us. Deal. Only the souk he had in mind wasn’t the souk we had in mind. We wanted the old local market.
Agadir has been largely rebuilt since 1960, when they had an earthquake that leveled 60% of the city and killed 17,000 people. Everything looks pretty new and the roads are in excellent condition. While they were rebuilding, they built a couple of fake souks, which doubtless pay a commission to the likes of Hassan, which was why he was so accommodating. He took us to two of them and they were largely a waste of time. Ya think?
We really didn’t mind too much. I bought a $20 blouse that lasted two wearings. The first wash ripped it apart. I didn’t blame Holland America.
My right knee buckled in the last souk and gave trouble all the way back to the ship, which wasn’t far, thanks to Hassan. I crawled into bed with my computer and ordered room service for my 4PM breakfast. That’s when I found that we were going to remain in Agadir over night to avoid some bad weather and set off for Casablanca at 7:00 am. All aboard was at 10:00PM for the safety of those who went out. I made it to dinner and our singers and dancers took to the stage again. They are getting better and better.
The first thing I did the next day was to cancel my tour for Casablanca, which was marked strenuous. The ship had an ice cream social in the middle of the afternoon and I met a lot of my DV people there. I had dinner with Beryl, Nona and Lenora for a change but went back to my usual seat for the show with my tablemates. It was Michelle Montouri who has been on the cruise ship entertainment circuit for donkey’s years. She’s good.
On Thursday, April 6, we docked in Casablanca, Morocco. I delivered my newsletters first thing in the morning and went out with Beryl and Lenora around noon. It took us to the middle of town and Beryl decided to just go back to the ship. Lenora and I were bent on going to the real souk but we couldn’t find it, until one guy told us it was just across the street. That was easier said than done with all the traffic, but there was an underground passage, if you could find it. We asked around and the light rail station attendant finally told us where the rabbit hole was. We took it and popped up in a real souk. Here it is, complete with pussycat.
And with Lenora, who was delighted with the leather jacket she bought, a little after this picture was taken.
Unfortunately, it was Ramadan, so there were no food or drink outlets open or we would have had a snack, rested a bit and poked around some more.
We got back in plenty of time for me to do a little more work . I had dinner at the table as usual and were entertained by comedian, Paul Adams, who was pretty good.
For a change, I had a ship’s tour out of Tangier, Morocco, the next day. We went to Asilah, an old fortified town dating back to the Phoenicians, now a lovely seaside resort. It looks like they overbuilt before COVID and a lot of new condo projects seem to have run out of money. We pit stopped at a restaurant before the walking tour and I happened to spot three of four calèches waiting for fares. I was still in a mood to baby my right knee and left ankle and found a willing partner named Nancy. It was only going to be $10 each for a 35 minute horse and buggy ride around the city. Of course, we saw the modern city, rather than the refurbished old one, which was closed to all but foot traffic. No matter. It was easy on our legs and a lot of fun. There was no live entertainment again, so I got to bed early.
Malaga, Spain, where we were next, on Saturday, April 8, is the antipode of Auckland, New Zealand. That means you can draw a line from one to the other straight through the center of the earth. A lot of us had been here before, but a few of us decided to see the Picasso museum and I was one of them. Beryl, Nona, Lenora and I got on the Hop On Hop Off bus and rode it the full way around once. Back at the ship, Beryl got off and Nona, Lenora and I stayed on for the Picasso Museum. The nice thing about going around twice is that you then have the seats right up front on top, where you can get some good pictures. A nice gal named Jeri, joined us, as there are four such seats. Jeri has been cruising ‘round the world since I started with Elvon. She has MS, and had the first very light packable scooter I had ever seen. She still has it, or a newer version.
When it came time to get out for Picasso, her scooter was boxed in behind someone else’s power chair. Neither she nor I could move it. It was like I rubbed the lamp. I looked up and there was Pat Sanders, all big and strong like he had been on the catamaran, when I needed him. He solved the problem in a New York minute and we four were on our way to the museum. Jeri and her “caregivers” got special treatment, of course, jumped the line, went around to the elevator, used the handicapped bathrooms and all. Jeri has a brother, who, on hearing of her diagnosis, many years ago, crowed that now she could take him to Disneyland and they would get in to everything fast.
It was a brilliant museum and they didn’t care how many pictures you took. Here are a couple I particularly like. Still Life with Skull and Three Sea Urchins, Paris 1947
and Musketeer with Sword, Mougins1972
Picasso grows on you over time, a lot of time. The more you look his work, the more you see that more than meets the eye. I still see a dog on the forbidden sofa, looking guilty, in the first one, but I can also make the title fit. The Musketeer has a good few add ins, more hands, more swords, more faces. It’s very cool.
As was what we did next. We had beer and tapas on the square before we rejoined our HOHO We were glad we did, because we waited almost an hour for the thing. Luckily, we had the time.
We had dinner guests, lecturer, Dr. Shreeyash Palshikar and his wife, Peeta. They are both 2nd generation Americans with Indian fathers and American mothers. He lectures on Indian Magic and performs some. He has taught at Yale, Oxford, University of Pittsburgh and Albright. They were a lot of fun. It was a movie on the world stage and I had never heard of it, so to bed with my book again.
Finally it was Easter Sunday in Cadiz, Spain. I never did run out in the morning to experience the Easter festivities in Cadiz, but I was told they were very interesting. Those who saw the statues being carried in the streets were glad they did. A couple even found the churros con chocolate and pronounced it wonderful. I have learned not to try to do too much. Just do the task at hand well. So I worked over my bus lists to be sure they were in order and found my way to the appointed lounge at Noon.
Everything went smoothly. It was a good hour’s drive to Jerez. The commentary was informative and the people at the Real Tesoro winery knew what they were doing and how to handle large groups. The place was beautiful, and we had a good winery tour. The reception rooms were gorgeously decorated and the picture I have chosen to share resonates with me. You probably won’t wonder why.
Once we had received our education on the making of fortified wines, we gathered in a very large room for wine, tapas, and flamenco. What was not to like? The dancers were great, the wine flowed freely, and we missed seeing the horses on the way out because so many people were buying wine. They gave me a free bottle and I added two to it. I’ll be serving them at our farewell dinner.
We got back in plenty of time for dinner and a show. It was Rodrigo, a local Portuguese Instrumentalist, and he was excellent. The instrument was the Chapman Stick. You can google it. It was interesting.
To be clear: When I posted my first apology to Denise Davenport, I used the words “unfounded suspicion” which I meant to mean that the statement was false. She was not guilty.
This blog is a diary and a log, before it ever becomes a blog. I record a lot of things that cross my mind that have no business in the public domain. I have just removed a part of a paragraph from 3.3, that should never have seen the Internet and I owe Denise Davenport an apology. It was an unfounded suspicion that I meant to keep to myself. I am deeply sorry.
You may have noticed, we are in the boring bit of the cruise. I do my best to make things a bit interesting but this is relax and catch up time. It’s Monday, March 27, 2023, we’re at sea and we have dinner in the Canaletto tonight, which is part of making things interesting. I touched bases with its manager in the morning and promised her a final list, with seating chart, in the afternoon. Lots of people are still in quarantine, including two that I talked to before office hour. It’s bacterial, all right. The ship is now giving out azithromycin and Imodium to all that complain.
One passenger came by office hour to find out where the National Museum of African American Culture was, Gambia or Senegal. That got me into a lot of googling as it wasn’t that obvious. I eventually pieced together that it was the Museum of Black Civilization in Dakar and it was city center, right across from the large theatre and Renaissance Square. This lot has 38 million dollars of Chinese money in it and the museum was opened in 2018. It looked good on Google, but it didn’t answer my queries. We would need secure transportation as Senegal is notorious for robberies, muggings, etc. I canceled my expensive tour to the pink lake, in favor of this new museum. Rome2Rio wasn’t helpful. I gathered they didn’t recommend traveling around in Dakar. The ship’s $699 private tour for 9 people might be the best way, not cheap for a short ride, but the safest bet.
Twenty-four very merry people dined in the Canaletto and drank eight bottles of my wine. It would have been better if I weren’t always seeing the same faces, but still very good. It was a dressy night and Dee and Tracy looked fabulous in their African dresses. There was an excellent production show after dinner.
It was a very quiet day at sea on Tuesday, March 28. A nice, concerned passenger came to my office hour, very happy to be out of quarantine. He also wanted to know how my acupuncture is going. The jury is still out on that one. I am feeling some better, some worse. I have to start taking notes as Dr. Kim seems to be consulting me on what to fix. It’s slim pickings in the dining room, as a lot of produce had to be thrown out because of the gastro-intestinal problems and the entertainment is getting sparser. There was a game show at 7:00 pm tonight, while we are eating, and nothing at 9:30 pm, when we are done and ready to be entertained.
On Wednesday, March 29, we docked in Banjul, Gambia. I had been hearing how lucky I was to be a Canadian for a week or so now, as Gambia was taking some sort of revenge on the USA by pricing its VISA for US citizens at $155. Most people just decided not to get off, taking their own revenge. Well, Gambia figured that out from the paltry number of VISA applications they got and just decided to charge the ship the $155 per American on board, whether they got off or not.
Then they set up a very nice market on the pier, where I found out I had paid at least $20 too much for the wooden mask I had got in Abidjan and bought Robbie a life-sized pal.
Judging from some of the vehicles that dropped the vendors off, they do pretty well with these pier markets and probably have to be related to a customs official, to secure a piece of dock. The women were dressed beautifully in their own wares, like this one who made a client out of Dee. That, by the way, is not difficult.
Damage done, in the hot African sun, we got back on board and I found us a bus for our Kilmainham Jail add-on in Dublin, now just a month away. I had dinner in the Pinnacle Grill with Pat and Shari Sanders and it was just lovely. I like them a lot. I like all my people a lot. It’s a great group. The show was magician-mentalist Brendan Peel, from Port Elizabeth, South Africa. He’s very good, not more than 30 and very easy on the eyes.
If you thought the last port wasn’t much, the next one, Dakar, Senegal, was actually negative. At 8:00 am, with the World stage full of people waiting to go on tour, came the announcement that no one was going ashore at all, at all. There had been violent demonstrations in the city the night before and Holland America wasn’t putting any of its precious passengers nor crew ashore. We would remain in port for the day, as we were expecting a 40 foot container of food stores, and truckloads of fresh produce, to replace that which had been tossed, along with its bacteria. We also had a few people to board, and a few passengers who needed medical assistance ashore. So, we waited in the hot African sun, snug in our air-conditioned vessel, and made like it was a sea day. There are worse places to be. One of them was doubtless the meeting, also on board, mind you, of our Captain, Hotel Manager, Security and Food and Beverage Managers, with the Senegalese top level Customs officials, attempting to have our stores cleared to board. Exercises in futility have little pleasure component. The next day, we learned of the crew of an oil tanker being held for ransom by Senegalese pirates, off shore, another worse place to be. The Captain’s sad announcement at sail-away, begged our patience as we wouldn’t be eating as well for a few more days, but at least we wouldn’t run out of wine or toilet paper.
I had a newsletter planned for March 30 but moved it up to today, since I had the time. I had thought I was seeing some results from the acupuncture, but, by what happened as I was delivering my newsletters, it seems to be that my knee’s and my ankle’s defenses had been broken down and I was exposed to a lot of pain. I barely crawled back to my room by the end. But rest and elevation works every time, and I made it to sailaway, dinner and the movie – Top Gun Maverick – another kids’ movie, this one American-style.
Friday, March 31, 2023 was another sea/work day and a busy one. Dinner was fine and Spencer Robson was on stage. He’s billed as a vocalist and impersonator of famous singers. In fact, he’s an excellent singer with a massive range and not much good at impersonation at all. He needs to just go it as himself.
On Saturday, April Fool’s Day, at sea, the clocks went forward. There’s still no Internet to speak of, so I log and prepare blogs, and go see people face-to-face at office hour. I tried to walk the deck but it was blowing a gale out there, so I walked the corridors. There was a vomity smell on the other side of our corridor, near the midship elevators. They had the shampoo machines and vacuums out in force, because the block party is at four. I went to Ben Sack’s drawing class at one, not because I wanted to learn how to draw, but because I wanted to show my face to Ben Sack. He and Elvon and I had spent many the happy sailaway on the Amsterdam, usually followed by nice dinners on the back deck. I like him a lot, as a friend, and his class was a lot of fun, too. I may even go again. I tried to put in Lynann’s Allianz claim for the second time, but the Internet failed in the middle of it. I was smarter this time, though, and saved the paragraphs I write in a Word file.
The block party was fun, as usual. What wasn’t so much fun was the acupuncture that followed it. I had been keeping notes for Doctor Kim and my notes said that I had woken up with my ankle, knee and hip pain better, but still there. I had put my sketchers on, which are softer than my Mephisto sandals, and done a couple of laps around the corridors, which had elevated the pain level in the left foot and right knee. After I sat for an hour, both of those still hurt and so did my right lower back. He went to work and by the time he was done, I could barely walk to the elevator. I limped up to Happy Hour and farther to dinner, where we had a super guest, the magician-mentalist, Brendan Peel. I don’t think he’s even thirty. It changes the conversation when you have someone at the table with his whole life ahead of him.
There was a costume party that night and Nona was trying to win best home-made costume as Miss Holland America 150. That’s Holland America Line’s age this year, not Nona’s. I had promised to go up and cheer loudly for her. To my great delight, Brendan joined me. Nona didn’t win, but I might have if I had had the presence of mind to wear a “COUGAR” sign and parade down the runway with him. Next time, I’ll be prepared.
The next day was Palm Sunday in Santa Cruz, Tenerife, Canary Islands. Nona and I got off around eleven to walk into town. It was farther than we had hoped but a doable project. The approach was pretty, and even interesting, with lots to read about the famous travelers who had visited before us, like Charles Darwin, et al. Nona wanted to peek into the church. She found out mass was starting in 15 minutes and I was happy to join her in attending. I don’t usually go to church, except for weddings and funerals, but 11 years of the Sisters of the Holy Names of Jesus and Mary had taught me all I need to know to behave myself appropriately.
There had been a float parading around the neighborhood after the 11 o’clock mass and it appeared at the back of the church just before noon. It was a pretty float . I liked the expression on the donkey’s face. He’s wondering what to do about all these people. He got to keep wondering through the whole mass, because the float didn’t fit the width of the aisle, so the men carrying it just came out from under it and left it there.
After mass, we waited around a little to see if the float would get paraded around the streets any more, but that was over. We picked up our palm fronds and went off in search of tapas, since we were technically in Spain.
We found the tapas and some of my people, too. They let us join their table, as there wasn’t a vacant one. So, Nona had a Sangria, I had a beer, and we shared, croquetas, and iberica y queso. The walk back to the ship just about did me in. I was limping badly by the time I got there, every step agony in knee or ankle. Time for rest and elevation and maybe the end of acupuncture. It was obvious that it had broken down the defenses my body had erected to help me cope with my old injury and worsening arthritis. Only it hadn’t given me anything to replace them. After a couple of hours with my feet up, I was enough better to get to dinner and the comedian, Paul Adams, whom I had seen before and like.
I woke up an hour late, at sea on Monday, March 20, thanks to the way technology and I have been handling time changes. I sometimes wear two watches, one for my steps and one for the time. My phone doesn’t always know what time it is either. The result was that I had to scramble to be in the right place at the right time to turn my passport back in. There are worse problems, but I don’t seem to have them.
There’s a bug going around the ship. A lot of people have the runs. The ship is treating it like Norovirus and testing like mad. Five people I know have it already. People are passing around Imodium. It’s a treat. I’m trucking along, with nothing but my usual structural complaints. I have heard a ton of good things about the acupuncturist on board and have decided now is the time to give that a try, so I had a consultation and my first appointment. We’ll see how that goes. We had a very nice entertainer on stage, Naomi Tagg, a South African violinist. We liked her a lot.
The next day, I got off the ship in Luanda, Angola, with Wells, Dee and Nona and we took the shuttle to the market. I still haven’t found pants, I like. It wasn’t much of a market and not much of a day. Had a sailaway/happy hour with the Starrs and Mario Kalman and there were only 3 of us at dinner, thanks to the crud. The entertainment was an old movie “Death on the Nile” and it was a lot better that the new Academy award nominees they have been feeding us.
Back at sea on Wednesday, March 22, it was an ordinary work day, with a couple of people at office hour. There were only three of us at the table, though. I didn’t want to sit through the comedian again, so Wells suggested “Everything, Everywhere, All at Once”, which had won best picture and was on our stateroom TVs. So I watched it and it was your typical Kung Fu Movie, a genre whose time must have come. It was in Hong Kong when I was there in the 90s. We considered them kids’ movies, because they are.
On Thursday, March 23, at sea, we all had a body temperature check. There are plenty of people sick but the Norovirus tests are coming up clean. Now the suspect is food brought on at Cape Town, likely fruits and veggies. That explains why yours truly stays healthy when all around her are succumbing. Beryl came by to thank me for her birthday cards and give me a candy lei to celebrate her birthday. Vicki is back, having taken Azithromycin. See? Bacterial. I parsed my shipboard bill, so far, and sorted out my expenses. Christof Van Der Berg, was on stage. He is the singer, pianist from Shades of Africa. Alone, he didn’t seem quite as slimy, but he emotes too much for my taste. The kind of guy you have to shut your eyes to appreciate, even though he is pretty good looking.
Still at sea on Friday, March 24, I worked on my expense account, our Farewell Dinner and table seating for our Canaletto dinner. I am still learning of people in quarantine. Nona spent an hour in my cabin, going over the shore excursions she and Beryl have picked for Africa and Europe. I signed up for most of them. She also taught me a new web site www.whatsinport.com, which is pretty helpful. I started working on transportation for my Kilmainham Jail add-on to our shore excursion in Dublin. Then I got the Newsletter that I had been working on printed and delivered. Naomi Tagg was back on stage, just as good as the first time.
On Saturday, March 25, we were in Takoradi, Ghana. It was hot, there was a pretty good market on the pier and Nona said it wasn’t worth going into town, so we just contributed a bit to the local economy there. I finally found some pants. I was getting pretty sick of the few I had. I did some work, enjoyed sailaway, had dinner and went to bed early, because the movie didn’t interest me.
On Sunday, March 26, we docked in Abidjian, Ivory Coast. There was a shuttle to a market in town and Nona and I took it. The big circular market has been torn down and is being totally rebuilt, but there was a smaller one we could access. Ivory Coast is not a very safe place for tourists, so there was a 10-foot-high iron fence around the market. Nona had bought something there in November and the vendor had given her a gift, so she had a gift for the vendor, a little fabric bowl she had made in Arts and Crafts class, filled with Holland America pillow chocolates. Nona had a picture of the vendor to show around and we soon found her. She was delighted with the chocolates and ate all but one of them on the spot. That one she gave to her assistant. They needed to be eaten fast because it was hotter than the melting point of chocolate. There were many hugs and many pictures, but none of them were in my camera.
Then we went to the bead seller that Nona had found to have the best prices last time. I am not sure we got the best prices this time, but I went away with four necklaces and Nona with three. The power was out in the market and the vendors were showing such wares as were inside the huts, by the light of their cell phone flashlights. Yes, everyone has one of those. In one dark hut, I finally bought a mask for $60, not knowing whether I was getting had, or not. Back at sailaway, where I got this nice picture, there were a few people in sports jerseys, which were the dress of the day. It wasn’t working very well. I didn’t go to the Sports Trivia Game, which replaced real entertainment. Tell you the truth, it wasn’t much of a day. But, it was a slice of life, and I do love life.
We were at sea in Africa on Monday, March 13, 2023. We’ll be in Cape Town tomorrow and I have two excursions plus dinner at GOLD for 23 people, so I paid attention to all that stuff.
Then I reserved the big table in the Pinnacle for May 7 and found out the ship expects me to pay full freight for the dinner, even of the guests are 5*. That sticks in my craw and I’ll be planning a work around. I had 16 copies of the GOLD restaurant list printed to go in with the newsletters and delivered same. The entertainment was “Shades of Africa” a white male pianist with two African ladies with fabulous voices. The guy gave me the creeps, but the women were wonderful.
On Tuesday, March 14,we docked in the much anticipated Cape Town, South Africa. We had a private tour out of Cape Town today, with Tsiba-Tsiba. It means “Hop Hop”. Colleen Mes was our guide. She was dressed in soft rainbow colours, all the way to her shoes. Addy loved it and we were sure not to lose her on Table Mountain. We had paid extra for FastTrack tickets up the Cable car and we went straight there. It was brilliant sunshine and no tablecloth at all. We really got the view.
You could see that the fog was moving in, though in this picture of the cute little animal that lives up there. She’s called a dassie, and she had two little ones, but this is my best picture.
The ship’s tour buses had started arriving, so we didn’t stay too long. As it was, the line up for the cable car back down was getting long.
Our next adventure was Chapman’s Drive, one of the most beautiful drives in the world. It reminded me of the west coast of California, that was in our back yard for so many years. We were tourists enough to go drive it every so often, especially when we had guests, but often just because it was a beautiful day. This was a beautiful day, for sure, and this drive took us from one coast to the other, Atlantic Seaboard to Indian Seaboard. We went through a Scottish named village called “Glencairn” and a navel base at Simon’s Town. Colleen had lived here, having been an officer in the South African navy. It had boom town fronts, like Calistoga and was near Boulder Beach, aptly named, and home to a large colony of penguins.
We walked down to visit the penguins. It was exceptionally windy and we collected rather a lot of salt and sand on our walk to the beach, but it was well worth it. It’s interesting how close to town this penguin colony is. Look at the houses just above it.
I got a close up of one, too. I thought he was looking very dapper in his tuxedo.
And I love this one of a class of schoolchildren:
Luckily there was a little market there, or I might have no souvenirs at all. As it is, I now have a goodly number of them, so I won’t be coming home empty handed. The patchwork pants I bought ripped the very next day, but the beadwork should stand up nicely. We had lunch at Harbour House on Kalk Bay. It was delicious and the view was breathtaking, but the service was slow, and we were an hour late getting back. That only gave me a half hour to shower and get ready to meet everyone for dinner out. Almost everyone was on time, except for Cindy and Frank, who had taken the HO-HO bus and only got to table mountain later in the day, when the wind had picked up so badly that the cable cars were being filled with ballast and could only take half the number of passengers. They ended up with a nice dinner on the waterfront, though.
The rest of us ate at GOLD, the African experience, complete with a drumming show and Mali puppets. Contrary to the warning I got from the Scipios, the food was excellent. It was not a buffet. It was served family style at the tables, piping hot, by attentive, colorfully dressed wait staff, who couldn’t do enough for us. There were fourteen different dishes and we could have ordered seconds of any that struck our fancy. We didn’t need them. We were pretty full with what we got. The whole thing was ridiculously inexpensive, including the beer and wine and the shuttle bill for the ride there and back, came to $2 each.
On Wednesday, March 15, we were still in Cape Town, and Cape Town is close to Stellenbosch. When I visit a famous wine growing region, I go wine tasting. Dee had gone on safari to Etosha, so Wells was happy to join me. We booked with Tsiba-Tsiba, and got Eileen, who had been recommended by Linda and Bob Eckert. Doris, Frank and Cindy decided to join us, as the ships tours were all sold out by that time. Eileen was great. She said she knew so much about wine because she had been drinking so much of it for so many years, kind of like yours truly. She wasn’t drinking today, though. She had a lot of driving to do. The first thing she pointed out was how lucky we had been, having been to Table Mountain the day before, because today it had a full tablecloth. It’s pretty, but not from up there.
We were going to Stellenbosch, about 35 minutes away, where they have been growing wine since 1685. You have to wonder why they are considered a “new world” wine growing region. I guess because Europe has been making wine since Roman times. The Dutch colonists tried their hand at it first, but it was the French Huguenots, who had to come and teach them how to do it. Still, that was in about 1688 to our 1970.
You say “geezers” I say “guysers”. These things are geysers and, with a lot of sunshine, they deliver nice, free, hot water. They are mounted on the roofs of all the newer public housing.
And on every kind of housing, to the very poorest, you’ll find satellite dishes. I took a picture, but you know what they look like. There’s not the reverence for Nelson Mandela here that we saw in the Eastern part of the country. His promises haven’t been fulfilled rapidly enough and the natives are restless again. We passed the township of Khayelysha, and it went as far as the eye could see in all directions, second only to Soweto, which is outside Johannesburg. It’s no fun living in corrugated tin shacks where the summers are hot and dry, the winters cold and wet, and the roofs leak.
In contrast, the town of Stellenbosh is very pretty, all white and grey Cape Dutch architecture. There are no high-rise hotels. They are mostly old mansions with tasteful additions. The people walking the streets are almost all white. So are the students in the university, which we passed through. The industry was and still is, farming, cattle and viticulture, mostly. Eileen tells us it can be a wonderful place to shop and she is happy to lead a shopping tour, but that will be for another visit.
95% of the grapes in Stellenbosch are hand picked, due to the ready availability of cheap labour. Our first stop was Rustenberg, which stands on 800 hectares and has been in the Barlow family for four generations. It was the kind of tasting I love, where you sit in the old family garden, cooled by a gentle breeze. Just look at us. We each bought one bottle, which is all the ship will allow, without charging us $18 to drink it. I got a good Peter Barlow C.S. for $33, where the very nice S.B. was going for $6. It is very good.
We moved on from there to L’Avenir, where Ryan greeted us with a lovely 5-pair cheese and wine pairing, including a 50-year old vine Chenin Blanc. That was served outside, too, and was lovely.
We had a delicious lunch at another winery and I am sorry, but I forgot to write down the name. I did take a picture of the whimsical sign in the loo, though.
Our last stop was Meerlust, which has been in the same family for eight generations. They are important in South Africa for having been the first producers of a Bordeaux blend. We tasted inside, surrounded by history, and the wine was good, but it wasn’t nearly as lovely an experience as Rustenberg and L’Avenir. We were somewhat delayed getting back, by a herd of cows crossing the road. Nice.
For some reason, a day of wine tasting always takes the stuffing out of me. I try to drink a lot of water, but I think it’s the dehydration. I was the only one of the six of us who made it to the table and that was fine with me. I was too tired to be good company. I had an onion soup and a “Brazo de Mercedes”, which is custard and meringue and I went to bed, missing the South African Youth Choir, who were doubtless great.
We were back at sea on Thursday, March 16. They upgraded the Navigator App last night and today there’s no Internet at all. It goes through the Navigator App, you see, and that’s not right yet. It wasted hours of everyone’s time. The ship ran a Silent Auction to benefit the Bernhard Nordkamp Centre in Namibia. My Maori blanket wasn’t auctioned after all, it was on sale for $25, but the nice lady who bought it said she planned to pay $50 for the charity and because she liked it so much. There are a good few of us on board, who know how to run a silent auction, who were pretty disappointed for the children. Shades of Africa were on stage again after dinner.
On St. Patrick’s Day we were in Luderitz, Namibia. It is a tender port, so I just delivered a newsletter and stayed on board to work some more. The sailaway was a mess, with a St. Patrick’s Day party Lido Poolside and sailaway on the aft deck. One didn’t know which to go to. I circled and gave up and went to the Crow’s nest. At dinner, I ended up selling Lynann one of my necklaces because she hadn’t hardly got to shop. She was out with one of her former students and his family. He’s twenty-nine, now. Having been a first grade teacher has its rewards. The comedian on stage, Martin Beaumont, was not very funny at all.
The next day, Saturday, March 18, 2023 wasWalvis Bay, Namibia.
Walvis bay is a good port and has a number of good tour operators. Nancy Martyn and Jim Place had booked one, expecting Nona to join them but she was on safari and had replaced herself with me. It was the Dune Ride, which I had always meant to take some time. Nancy and Jim live in the other Pinnacle suite, so now I have seen both of them. Lucky me. It was a half day tour that started at noon, which suited me fine. Our driver/guide, Leo, first took us to Sandwich Harbour to see the flamingoes and pelicans and the salt pans. Our tour company was mctoursnam@gmail.com, if you want to do this after you read the whole thing. Namibia has only been independent for 33 years. It was first colonized by the English, then the Dutch and latterly, the Germans. There’s pink algae in the water, along with the salt and you see it best in the salt ponds. The company exports almost a million tons of salt a year and seawater in the only raw material.
Leo is the tour company’s best guide, so we went first into the dunes, blazing the trail for the others and finding things like this little gecko that Leo spotted by the seven holes he digs to stay covered by sands. I’ll bet his translucent little body burns in the sun.
Leo spotted a seal on the beach, too, and took us in for a closer look. The next time I come here, I am taking the catamaran tour out into the water, where seals and pelicans come aboard and play with the tourists. Out in the dunes, there are also oryx, springbok, ostrich and jackals. Apparently, there is a lot for them to eat but it didn’t look too appetizing to us. It just looked like a lot of sand with a bit of scrub here and there.
And then we started driving through the dunes. OMG. It was like a natural roller coaster. I whimpered softly for Mama, a few times, and at one point let out a blood-curdling shriek, embarrassing myself thoroughly. Here’s our guide, with some very close dunes to give you a sense of the size of them.
We stopped at a valley in the dunes, and they fed us a delicious lunch, put us back in the jeeps and shook us up again. It was fun, and I am glad I did it, but you won’t catch me coming back for more. That’s ticked off the bucket list.
Back on the ship, there was a Biergarten Festival in the Lido, poolside, for a sailaway with a wonderful sunset. Dee was back on board after a fabulous safari at Etosha. Her pictures are incredible. We had Maja, the Guest Services Manager, for dinner at the table. We all like her a lot.
Sunday, March 19, 2023 At Sea
I was planning on making this the day I broke my fast early and went to Sunday Brunch on the ship, which, I am told, is wonderful. But I had a major tightness in my mid section, which a whole can of gingerale had not managed to dissolve, so I decided to skip that. Al and Sobie Toledo were down in the atrium, using the phone provided for emergency calls. Al’s niece had died, and they had to go home for the funeral. They will get off in Luanda, tomorrow, and back on in Dakar, Senegal, ten days later.
Addy came back. She still hasn’t got her photos backed up. Vicki is helping her with it but Vicki couldn’t get off the ship yesterday because of a stomach bug. It’s going around the ship. We’ll all be spending a lot of time washing our hands. I had a few cocktail party and dinner cancellations because of it.
In the end, only 40 people came to our 5th cocktail party and 24 to dinner. In a time of norovirus, that’s a good, brave turnout. As usual, we had a lot of fun at dinner. The singers and dancers were back on stage again and we like them a lot, too.
We weren’t in Africa yet on Monday, March 6. It was another sea day. I dealt with that which needed dealing with and got a log, a blog and a newsletter out. Happy hour was positively riotous, with the two couples and my 2012 table-mate, Beryl Mitton. Beryl is a stitch. She was bitching about all the youngsters holding up the line of boats at the waterfall. She said she gave them the finger, but old ladies are invisible, so it didn’t change anything. It made us laugh, though. We know.
We had Wilco, the Chief Engineer, for dinner at the table and he was very entertaining, too. We closed the dining room. Then we went up to the “Crew Party” with passengers included. I had a gingerale and hob-nobbed with Henk, the Hotel Manager, Christal, his wife, Manesh his 2IC, Shiv the Chief Housekeeper, Maja, the Front Desk Manager, Michelle the Groups Coordinator, Elijah Rock, the Singer, and Mark Palmer, the Comedian. I also greeted about thirty passengers that I knew, fifteen of whom were DV. Are you still wondering why I like this so much?
Tuesday, March 7, was another sea day. I spoke to one of my passengers, who had just got back on board, having been prevented from visiting Oz, on a whim of Australian customs. So they had spent a couple of weeks on Mauritius. There are worse places, especially in March. I live in one of them. Dee Wescott came by to chat and t tell me how right I was about a world cruise making caregiving easy. She is delighted with the progress Wells is making, just by being around a lot of people that he can have fun with.
Elijah Rock had some time on his hands so he spent 15 minutes worth of it with me. I liked that. We had the lecturer, Daniel Silke for dinner and he was delightful. We also liked the guitarist duo CH2.
On Wednesday, March 8, we were happy to be in Maputo, Mozambique. I went on a ship’s tour. I met up with a few of my people, which was an unexpected pleasure. Our guide, Bartolomeo, was very good. He first took us to the Central market, which had a lot of food, wigs, and the usual crappy souvenirs. I did, however, manage to lay my hands on a great present for Robbie. It was one of a kind, and I am pretty sure it was used, as it is quite misshapen and seems to be missing a bar. It was probably a lunch box but my plan is to fill it with Robbie’s balls, as I give him about a dozen a day from my desk, He takes them into the living room to play, and comes back when he has lost the current one under the sofa. I’ll keep them in this now and expect to be entertained by him trying to get them out.
After the market, we went to Independence Square, getting our history lesson on the way. Maputo was German at first, then a Portuguese colony. Samora Machel, whose statue dominates the square, declared independence in 1984 and later signed a major agreement with Ronald Reagan, whereby English became the language of trade. Now it’s taught in all the schools and basically taking over. His second wife, second wife, Graça Simbine, married Nelson Mandela after Machel was killed. She must have been something. But, I digress. Mozambique has been a democracy only since 1994 and is still struggling to get its infrastructure up to speed.
We were there on International Women’s Day and saw a lot of women demonstrating in the square. They still have a ways to go to be equal to the men here, but they have come a long way in a short time. We visited the Iron House – yes, a house made entirely of iron in a very hot country. It was built to house the Portuguese Governor, but he quickly realized it was more like an oven and moved out. Then we visited their museum of natural history, full of stuffed animals, many in rather gruesome poses. Then there was the collection of elephant fetuses. They haven’t got over the recent civil war, which lasted 15 years and wiped out most of the schools. They still have 65 students per class, while they try to catch up. Many people still don’t have fresh water either. Things could definitely be better. They are getting help, but that is worrisome, too. For instance, there is now a brand new bridge connecting Maputo to South Africa, which saves a lot of time. It was paid for by the Chinese Government, who have been investing like mad in infrastructure, all over the world. When they want to rule the world, it won’t take a war.
It was a good sailaway and I just had dinner right there on Deck 9, Aft, with the Starrs, Park and Annie. The movie was Nelson Mandela – Long Walk to Freedom, and, for once, the movie was good.
Back at Sea on Thursday, March 9, and it was business as usual, Happy Hour and dinner in the Pinnacle as a group again. We were missing a few people, three of them from my dinner table. They had the hysterical comedian for dinner and I was missing it. It happens when you are booking entertainers who only have a couple of possible nights, in this case, only one and it conflicted. No biggie. We still had a very good time. Elijah Rock was on stage again, in his final appearance. We’ll miss him.
We docked in Durban, South Africa on Friday, March 10 and I took another ship’s tour. This time I hooked up with Beryl Mitton, which is always a pleasure. Durban is the biggest port in South Africa and the port for Johannesburg. We were on our way to visit the Zulu nation in the Valley of 1000 Hills. The diverse clans became the Zulu nation in 1816 and they have had nine kings since then. They are not crowned, they are coronated, just so’s you know. It’s a beautiful drive to get there and is very picturesque country with picturesque natives.
They had a dance to show us. It was the wedding dance, depicting the contract (11 cows for a wife), the engagement, and the wedding itself. Sailaway was fun. The Rolling Stones Lounge band is leaving us and so, after dinner, they gave a concert on the main stage. They are excellent but when they said it was music from the 60s-70s-80s, they were smoking something. It was heavy metal from the 90s and 2000s. We should know. We were there. They weren’t.
Saturday, March 11, we should have been East London, South Africa. We missed another port because of weather and likely poor planning, on Holland America’s part. These big ships can’t really do the little harbours. I spent some of the time working on my July in Napa. I finished and sent a log and a blog and started a newsletter for March 13. Had dinner at the table and enjoyed another hysterical round of Mark Palmer.
On Sunday, March 12, we were in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. Today’s tour has been much modified from the tour description. It was a “townships” tour and if you have read Trevor Noah’s book, which I highly recommend, you’ll have an idea of what we were supposed to be in for. We had already had a letter from the shore excursions department that we were NOT going to walk around the townships speaking to the residents as advertised. That came as no surprise. I imagine we would be either resented or targeted, or both. But it was good for us to see. Port Elizabeth is on Nelson Mandela Bay and is home to Nelson Mandela University and the Nelson Mandela stadium. It has a new name “Gqeberha“ but no one but the Xhosa (Zulus) can pronounce it, so it still goes by Port Elizabeth. It wasn’t named after the Queen, either, but rather one Elizabeth Duncan, who was honored as a “perfect person”. The fact that it was Sunday, didn’t improve the tour. Most things were closed, like the school we were to visit and the Post Office, which is closed permanently, thanks to the Internet, as if there wasn’t enough unemployment in these parts.
Mandela and his Nelson Mandela Foundation, built houses and schools, both of which vastly improved the lot of the common people, at least at first. But without employment, youth turns to crime. The prosperous looking houses have ADT signs in their front yards that say “ARMED RESPONSE”. Rubbish is picked up once a week, but it has to be gathered into bags or containers and Port Elizabeth isn’t known as the “windy city” for nothing, so it is all over the place. Our guide, Mongo, thinks the younger generation is more environmentally conscious and it’s the old folks who are used to just tossing trash. He was born is a shack and now lives in a Mandela house. Here are a few pics:
Mixed neighborhood, shacks with outhouses and some Mandela houses.
Typical Mandela houses
Better Houses
With front yards that discourage loitering.
And litter everywhere.
We stopped once. It was some sort of public building with good rest rooms. We were met by the police who opened the gate for our bus to pass and closed it after us. There were free soft drinks and a couple of artisans selling their wares. I was first to buy a beautiful beaded collar and, when she was down to only one and it was red and black, I bought that, too. A good few of us were wearing them around the ship for a couple of days. They are surprisingly warm.
We stopped at Nelson Mandela Stadium, where there should have been a larger craft fair, but no one showed up to let us in. Maybe because it was a Sunday, maybe they just didn’t want to sell to us. You have to wonder why not. We were open to buy. Back on the ship, there was a production show, and it was very, very good.
On Monday, February 27, we were at sea. There was plenty of work of all sorts and I did it until four o’clock. Then I took a wine glass out of my bar cupboard and stepped out to our block party. That was a lot of fun. It got too crowded in our hall, so we took it to our elevator lobby and ended up with a bunch of port side people, too. Henk and Christel came by and it was great to see her. Old friends, Ginny and Dean are on our block and I think I have made some more friends, Rolande from Quebec and Leigh and Ken Parrot.
I had planned to hold a lottery at Happy Hour, to see who got to go to GOLD in Cape Town, but there was now no need, as they had given me 24 seats, so we will all go, except for the three people who wanted the fancy French meals. I would have been with them, but my job is to go with the majority, and so I will.
Elijah Rock, a classic crooner, with a bit of tap dance, was on stage and he was excellent, not to mention easy on the eyes.
Still at sea on Tuesday, February 28, same drill, checked my email, did the client work it brought and the shipboard admin. I don’t go to lectures or concerts, nor do I participate in arts and crafts, Bridge, or Trivia. I pretty much just do my jobs, log and blog, and have my fun in the evening. If I tried to fit the other stuff in, I would just be stressed all the time, and not do as good a job. It helps that I really enjoy what I do. From the time I was in kindergarten, I was the kid that organized the playground games at recess. It’s in my DNA.
Beryl came to office hour to tell me that she and Nona had booked a tulip tour in Amsterdam and I should, too. I duly went up to the shore excursions desk and did that.
My cabin is next door to one of two Pinnacle Suites and I was going to dinner with the occupants this night. Kelly, from Arizona, and Polly, from Georgia, had invited me over for a glass of wine before and I was dying to see the suite. I have a client in Montreal, who thinks this just might be the ticket for two women traveling together who can’t see sharing 250 sq. ft. and one sink. Kelly and Polly are very happy in the Pinnacle Suite. It’s 1290 sq.ft. including verandah, almost as big as my apartment in Montreal, which is 1350 sq.ft. It has a separate master bedroom and the living room converts into a king bed at night. They both have wide screen TVs, there’s a dining room, an enormous deck, with a hot tub, a walk-in closet and two bathrooms. The master bath has a tub and a shower. Kelly has all that and Polly uses the shower whenever she wants it, because the powder room, which is her bathroom, is, well, a powder room. They each have a desk. Polly has the better one of these. It’s in the dining room. There’s a huge armoire of dishes and glassware for entertaining and a butler’s pantry with a full-sized fridge, sink, counter, etc. Singles pay double for regular cabins, so this really does start to make sense, especially if you can pick it up as a last-minute upgrade to a Neptune suite.
I missed Trevor Knight at the dinner table, but you can’t have it all. Kelly and Polly and I ate in the dining room and got along like a house on fire. We’ll do it again. We split up after dinner, as I wanted to see the movie, Tar, with Cate Blanchett. What a mistake that was. None of the movies has been good. They are picked because they are award winners and/or Oscar nominees, and I don’t know who thinks they deserve it. This one was bloody awful. It was dark and slow moving and it never pulled itself to a conclusion. After 2 hours and 38 minutes of freezing my butt in our meat locker of a theatre, they just rolled the credits, with no warning.
Yes, we were still at sea on Wednesday, March 1. I had a newsletter to deliver and elected to do that early in the morning, as it would serve as a reminder for Ken Stein’s talk in the afternoon.
I did a final check with Nyron that we did, indeed, have ONE catamaran and TWO buses. Then I went to the Hudson Room, where Ken Stein was scheduled in our Distinctive Speakers Series, at 4:00pm. Being after Bridge, allowed us to attract a bunch of Bridge players and I charged them, too, because Holland America was making us pay for the audio-visual support.
Next I was off to a cocktail party in Dan’s room on Deck 5. Dan is a single guy, who was once one of my Distinctive Voyagers. He likes to have little parties to get people he thinks should meet, together. He has reconfigured his cabin for more space by having one of the beds collapsed and stored behind the couch. It works well. I think there were nine of us in there and we could all sit down in an oval configuration and share one conversation. Brilliant, Dan. Good choice of people, too.
We had Elijah Rock for dinner and I was delighted to be seated beside him. He is an exceptionally nice man. Trevor Knight was on stage again, with an all John Denver program – very easy listening.
Finally, on Thursday, March 2, we docked in Port Louis, Mauritius and it was time for our shore excursion. Everyone was on time so off we went. There was a surprise waiting in the parking lot. We didn’t have two big buses, we had four little buses. The one I had only had a driver on it, so I assumed that was the case for all four buses, and adjusted the tips accordingly. At the end of the bus ride, ride, there was a bigger surprise. It wasn’t a big dock and a 120-passenger catamaran but a very small dock and three much smaller catamarans. That’s challenging for the structurally impaired, or just old and rickety.
The Catamaran experience itself was wonderful, especially wonderful for those who were able enough to get onto the bows of the cats. It required a lot of sunscreen in the morning, but none later in the day when it had clouded over to an absolutely perfect temperature. Weather wise, it was a glorious day. It would have been too hot for most other activities, but this one, full of wind and water, was perfect. The experience differed markedly from the tour description, mind you, which promised, coastal scenery and deep-water snorkeling.
The coastal scenery was only briefly visible in the river on the way to the waterfall. The rest of the time, it was just water, water all around, punctuated by parasailing activity, which was beautiful to watch. The waterfall itself was lovely. While we took small boats to get our photo opportunities, the crew cooked the BBQ lunch in the protected water of the river, and served it to us, just as we came out of there. It was positively delicious.
I understand there was a good snorkeling spot near a reef, but that recent weather activity had so churned up the water that there was nothing to see. So, they took us to a beach to swim and snorkel, and, again, the time passed the fastest for those able to get into the water and enjoy it. The swim cooled us off. There was enough wind to hoist the sails on the way back, but they kept the motor on to meet the schedule. I spent sailaway with Becky and Mario and a very nice Canadian Couple, who now live in Malta. Dinner at the table was fun but the movie was worse than Tar, if that’s possible. It was the critically acclaimed “The Banshees of Inisherin”. It has all Tar’s faults and was gratuitously gruesome to boot. Now I know I have to see the rest of the movies, just to see if it can possibly get any worse.
On Friday, March 3, we were in La Possession, Reunion. I worked in my room all morning, mostly writing up yesterday’s shore excursion. Then I went out in La Possession. I took the shuttle into town accompanied by a lot of crew. Once there I found the old market, now ye olde souvenir mart. There was nothing there I wanted to buy, so I went clothes shopping. I found the shops, a pair of white tights, and some wonderful gelato, which I shared with a nice gal from the ship, named Julia. I somehow had managed to walk even further from the shuttle pickup. Good thing I speak French. It made it easier to get turned around and pointed in the right direction. Next I found a bus, boarded it and asked the driver if he went down where I wanted to go. He did. Bon. He did not take cards, nor US$. Not so bon. I told him how old I was, and how tired I was, and asked him what I should do. “Faites ce que vous voulez” he said. So I sat down on the bus. When it was time to get off, I gave him a couple of bucks, thanked him and told him to “Faites ce que vous voulez avec ça”. “Oo la la, merci” said he. That will get paid forward.
I went to sailaway where we learned we would be bypassing Madagascar. It was being hammered by cyclone Freddie and it was going to get worse before it got better. We were going to give it a very wide berth. I hung around enjoying sailaway in the dark, until it was time to go to the table for dinner and our terrific entertainer, Elijah Rock.
Back at sea on Saturday, March 4, I took some calls and did some work. Office Hour was busy and I got the bill for the AV for Ken’s March 1 talk. It was less than half of what I expected. I signed that chit and set to thinking what I was going to so with the extra money I now had. I figured out a good solution. The next three talks are going for a bargain rate. I can’t make them free because too many people had already paid, but those that did, get the rest for free.
Happy Hour was good, with the Hobsons, Peggy and Vicki and Doris. I had dinner with Shari and Pat and the three of us enjoyed the wine Cher recommended, Andrew Peace’s Langhorn Creek, Cab Sav 2021, Western Australia. We also enjoyed the production show, Avalon Ballroom.
Sunday, March 5, we should have been in Tolanero, Madagasgar, but were were at sea, again. I spent a good part of the day creating another newsletter, for delivery on March 6. Now that I had a plan about what to do with my fee-based speaker series, I spent some time creating a spread sheet to deal with it. I solve most of my problems with spreadsheets. I don’t like to brag, but I just might be the queen of paperwork. Computer-based paperwork, that is. The comedian on stage, Mark Palmer, was hysterical. He got right to the bone with the COVID jokes, like you couldn’t even cough to hide a fart, the fat passenger ship jokes, the obnoxious airplane passengers. Really edgy stuff. I loved it.
2023 – 2 – Grand World 2.3 of 5 Farewell to Australia
On Monday, February 20, we were still at sea, going around the land down under. I produced a talk in my Distinctive Speakers Series, and it went well and I got a Newsletter out quickly about the RPYC Nepalese Dinner available, tomorrow. The talk, on being a Navy Diver, went very well. The man is a very entertaining speaker.
The next day we docked in Freemantle, port for Perth. With just a day’s notice, I only had two couples take me up on the New Members’ Dinner at the Royal Perth Yacht Club, and both would be making it there on their own. I decided to conserve energy (mine) by going out after noon, shopping a bit in Perth and taking a taxi from downtown Perth, which would be closer. It was a long walk to the train Station from the ship, but the train was clean and pleasant to ride. It dropped us off in the center of town, where there was a post office and an information Kiosk. I got a map and found out where David Jones was. I also got directions as to where to find “tea” after I had shopped. The shopping was disappointing, as it is most places in the world, now. I find nice outfits but they are usually made of heavy synthetics. I sweat in synthetics, and I like to travel light. I’ll be wearing my old silk clothes until I die in them, at this rate. Even when am ready to spend money, I don’t seem to be able to. The downtown core has been turned into a bunch of walking streets so it is like a big outdoor mall. I found the recommended place for tea (the experience) and it wasn’t really, but they did have tea (the beverage) and a millefeuille, so I made do with that. Then I walked around some more, had a gelato, and decided to go to the yacht club early.
When I got there, the new members ceremony was about to start. I spent some time chatting with Kelley, the Club’s Marketing Manager and Janet, the vice Commodore. Gillian, the membership person promised to look out for my people as they came in. Then I noticed Becky and Mario, and excused myself to join them. At that point the speeches began. We got a short history of the club, the flag officers and the new members. We also learned about a few of their traditions. For example, they race dressed all in white. In 2023. Just imagine. They also have a nice tradition of ringing the bell to buy a round for the house. You have to do it when you have done something wrong, like show up for a race in red, or something good, like winning an important one. The vice-commodore rang it to welcome the new members, so we all got a free drink. All but Tracy and Tom, who were still downstairs, too shy to come up while all this was going on. We met up just after and in time for Kelley to give us a special tour of the Alan Bond America’s Cup room. You can guess what’s in there and you’d be right: a board room table and chairs, and a lot of photos and memorabilia af the 1983 America’s Cup that this club won from the USA after 132 years. In a glass case, facing you as you enter the door, is the replica cup that the NYC gave to RPYC, when they won. The real thing moves around every time it is won by a different club, of course. They keep the room locked at all times, unless there’s a meeting going on. They found it like this, when they came back from Alan Bond’s funeral. Kelley was the one who opened the door.…..
We broke the contemplative mood by going downstairs to dinner, which was scrumptious. The Nepalese food was a nice change for us. They sat us at a table for 10 with a flag officer and four members. We made a couple of new friends and I will certainly be getting the RStLYC to be writing RPYC for reciprocity. None of our members should ever have to miss this place if they are in the vicinity. OK, so it’s half way around the world, but…we travel.
Still in Freemantle, the next day, I went ashore in Freemantle. First I had some DV business to attend to and I had a thank you note to write to the Royal Perth Yacht Club. It included this:
I went out well after noon. It was a long walk to anywhere from the ship here. I took the free shuttle bus into Freemantle. From the drop off point, I walked around, browsing the stores and sizing up where I would break my fast, come 4:00 pm. I found a semi-upscale noodle shop, two doors down from a gelato place. Those would do nicely. Then I got on the free bus that circles the town, dropping locals off at the beach or the train station, and providing a scenic ride for the tourists, with a couple of good museum stops. Things that are free have their own cost, mind you. I noticed that the driver was in a secure looking cage, and that should have bothered me, but it didn’t, until a very dicey looking character got on at the beach. We had had one of these guys on the train in Adelaide, too. Substances obviously played a part in his behavior, and my fellow passengers and I gave him a wide berth. He got off at the next stop, giving the bus a good hard bang with his bag, as he did so. The bus driver went a half a mile down the road, stopped the bus, came out of her cage and checked us all. We were fine.
At the stop for the train station, she told us that was the end for this bus and we should get out and take the next one. I met up with Tracy Li, who had been to Perth and was now having a look at Freemanle. As we rode into town, I told her about the noodle shop and asked her if she fancied joining me for yum cha. She did, but wanted to take the bus around its route first. That was only twenty minutes so I agreed. I had already forgotten about the local color. Of course he re-boarded, where the last bus had let him off and made us all nervous again, this time for a lot more stops. Really ruins the sightseeing, that. He got off before we did, but this time, we did get off at the yum cha stop and went in and had it. It was mediocre dim sum, but the décor was nice and it was still satisfying. The ice cream cone at the gelato place was even more so.
Sailaway was nice and I gave the entertainment a by. It was the movie Armageddon Time, which I figured would be way too dark.
Back at sea on Thursday, February 23, It was about time I got serious about what I was going to do in Africa, so I got hold of Nona, who had just taken the Grand Africa in October and I picked her brain for the second time, parsed it as best I could and booked some ship’s tours. I went walkabout looking for a room for the next Distinctive Speaker and came up with the Hudson Room, after Bridge. There’s another room, The Stuyvesant Rom, which would have been perfect and even has a permanent screen, but the Friends of Bill W. have it every day at four o’clock, leaving no room for the Friends of Helen M. We’ll go with the Hudson.
Then I did some research on restaurants in Cape Town to make use of the overnight there. I found a good few and decided to narrow them down to ones with an African Experience or great food in a beautiful old building. Speaking of dinner, we had a wonderful young guest, Leah Dann. She’s the current lecturer on bard and, by all reports, she’s excellent. She’s a PhD Candidate studying marsupials, so it’s no wonder we found her in Australia. She has put the more mature lecturers to shame. The show was interesting. Our dance band took to the World Stage, with Jazzed-Up Beatles music. Who doesn’t like that?
At sea again on Friday, I was still researching restaurants, when Barbara, the Virtuoso host, stopped by. She and her husband had lived in Cairo for a good few years and they would take short vacations in Cape Town the way Elvon and I used to go to Bangkok or Singapore. She knew the territory and helped me narrow our choices down. She really vouched for GOLD, the African Experience, with the drumming and dancing and native African foods. It was sold out on the Internet, so I crafted this sad little email:
I am traveling around the world on the ms Zuiderdam, which will overnight in Cape Town on March 14. It would bea particular delight to be able to dine, with a few of my ship mates, at your Restaurant. We would be ordering the full Monte, with the drumming to start. I see you are sold out to Internet orders, but my experience at home (Montreal,now, and Napa for 25 years) is that you have a little wiggle room for particularly worthy guests. I can definitely get mine to dress up and behave. They are world cruisers, after all.
Please let me know how many of us you could possibly accommodate. I would need a minimum of four and could probably fill 8 seats easily. I will be meeting the group for dinner tomorrow night and would like to present then.
Thank you for your help.
Purrs, Helen
I also wrote to The Mount Nelson, Azure in The 12 Apostles Hotel and Ellerton House. Our overnight, March 14, is a Tuesday, which a bad night to be dining out, but I had to try. That’s the night we have.
I ate at the table and went to the show. It was Trevor Knight, an Aussie, who had spent time in the USA in the 60s and performed with the Kingston Trio, John Denver, etc. He was born in 1948, so one of us. I thoroughly enjoyed him, right down to Puff, the Magic Dragon. I can’t remember now if it was in this show or the next that he actually recited “The Cremation of Sam McGee” and all us Canadians recited along with him, as much as we remembered. Quirky, and fun. He’s a Horse Whisperer, too, and gave a few lectures on horses.
Saturday, February 25, was another day at sea, with a lot to do and a fun answer from GOLD, the African experience:
Dear Helen,
We would hate for you to feel lost at sea and a little hope goes a long way.
Please see what we can offer :
18h30 OPTIONAL interactive djembe drumming experience followed by a soothing hand washing ceremony R120pp
19h00 our Set African Feast (set menu attached) served at your table in sharing and individual portions, together with live entertainment R455pp + 10% service charge
We have made a provisional booking for you at 18:30 on the 14th of March 2023 for 8 of you, dressed and ready to behave as we do in Africa – with some rhythm and laughs.
Please let us know if there are any dietaries we need to be aware off. We look forward to welcome you and the crew soon –bring your land legs.
Kind regards
Lita Brits
PA to the Managing Director
So I started working on a newsletter, as this was very good value to us.
Dinner in the Canaletto was a lot of fun. Twenty-one people came, including the Sanders. Instead of sitting at one of the tables for 8, I sat with them and Addy Adler, who had wanted a picture with me badly at the last party. She got it this time:
And we made out in time for the Production Show: Classique, which was a repeat but better than the first one. The cast is coming together nicely and we are getting to know them. They are great kids.
Sunday, February 26 was another busy sea day. Dinner was fine and the comedian, Martin Ralph, was pretty good.
Helen Megan 