2023 – 2 – Grand World 2.2 of 5 More of Australia

I neglected to mention that we actually docked in Hobart, Tasmania, yesterday evening, February 13, which was why I was in the Crow’s Nest early. It’s interesting to be on the pointy end going in and I had friends in the persons of Cindy and Frank.  I had also been nursing cold symptoms for much of the day and had taken a COVID test to be sure it would be OK for me to come out.  Of course, it was, or I wouldn’t have.

I was glad of the port day, too, as I could use it to rest and recuperate.  I missed a good day, though.  It was a holiday and the tall ships were in town.  The yacht club, which was just beside us, had opened its main committee boat for public viewing.  They use it to open and close the festival.  Nona texted me from shore about it, adding that Princess Diana had been on it.  I would certainly have grooved on that but every once in a while, you have to take care of your bod, so it will take care of you the rest of the time.

I also missed Bonorong Wildife Sanctuary, which I am noting here for the next time.  Dee never misses it.  You can cuddle the animals, all but the Tazmanian devils, who will take your arm off.

Today we were cruising Cape Raoul and it was scenic.  While I was working in my cabin, with the balcony door open, my steward knocked on the door with a delivery.  It was a lovely box of truffles and the box itself was made of chocolate.  It came from Anvers, Tasmania, a gift of one of my couples, in thanks for my efforts to get them into the group.  It was gorgeous and yummy, somewhere between milk and dark chocolate.  The rose came from the Captain and crew.

I was suitably cheered up, tested myself for COVID, again and went to dinner, just with Lynann.  The Wescotts are having two big Pinnacle parties and we are invited to next month’s one.  It was fine with me.  I like Lynann and it gave us the chance to have a nice frank conversation, talk a little business and dish the dirt.  Australian Comedian Jim Short was on the Main Stage and he was pretty funny. 

Tuesday, February 14 was Valentine’s Day and we were still at sea.  Three or four people had business with me and I puttered the afternoon away, took another COVID test and went to dinner.  On formal nights, the ship sends us an officer, as a “table host”.  That means he buys wine for us.  Tonight’s was an Officer Cadet, named Ranier.  He is Dutch and 22 years old, lots of fun for the LOLs.  We gave him an earful of the kind of stuff the ship wants to learn by sending the officers out among us.  He’ll have plenty to report. 

We weren’t going to dock in Adelaide until early afternoon, on Wednesday, February 15 so I did a bit of yacht club research in the morning.  I found out that the Royal South Australian Yacht Squadron was in the Outer Harbour, where we were docking, and that it had Wednesday night races, which I took to mean “Sailors Suppers”.  I took down its address and web site and filed it away for later. 

At three o’clock, I went out with Nona and Beryl. We caught the commuter train into the centre of town and took off for Rundle Mall.  It was a useful sort of shopping trip, got a few essentials, but didn’t see a suitable pub.  So we took a tram back to the train station and got the 5:42 back to Outer Harbour.  Ir was 6:30 by the time we got there and Nona liked the Yacht Club idea.  Tom and Tracy McClintock happened to be in our rail car, so I asked them if they would like to join us, and they did.  We took a short taxi ride to the club and I presented my credentials.  They were accepted and we were invited to choose a table on the patio.

The patio overlooks the harbour and beyond that a breakwater that they must have sold to build their nice modern clubhouse because this is the view:

Most of the tables on the patio were taken.  By all that’s right and holy, these people should have been in their boats, tacking and jibing and coming about, but, there was no wind.  It was a beautiful night but it was dead calm.  So the race had been called.  A couple of officers came over to talk to us and next thing you knew, someone was on a microphone introducing us, with our hometowns, and my credentials from two yacht clubs.  We were being treated like celebrities. 

The food was delicious and people kept stopping by our table to chat.  It was a fabulous experience.  One of the members even drove us back to the ship.  Now THAT is hospitality. 

When I got back to my cabin, the message light was on, on my phone.  I decided to leave it for the morning.  I won’t be doing that again.  It was Linda Starr, telling us they had hired a driver for a wine tour to the Barossa Valley in the morning, and would I like to come.  About that pig’s ass, but I had to ask if Nona could come, too, because I was committed to her.  Yes, she would be welcome, and yes, she wanted to come, so tomorrow is well taken care of.

Still in Adelaide, on Wednesday, February 15, Nine in the morning came quickly and the four of us were out meeting Slade, right near the ship.  It was his first wine tour.  Arthur and Linda had talked him into doing it in a bar the night before.  He had done a little research, and he knew who the top three boutique wineries were, so we were all set. 

Our first winery was Kies, where we were greeted by Megan, who was lovely, of course.  What was more lovely is that they don’t charge for wine tastings in the Barossa Valley, which is the Australian equivalent of Napa, where they charge plenty.  Megan explained basket pressing to us.  It’s not something we had heard of before.  We do it with bladders in California.  I really liked the 2020 Klauber Block Shiraz and the 2020 Cab Sav, The Suit.  It’s a pity I am too cheap to give the ship another $18 for corkage as these were good value at AUD 35 and 55 respectively.  I am regretting this as I write.

Next came a strange interlude where we tried to find Slade’s second winery and ended up on all sorts or roads where there was nothing at all.  In the middle of all this seeking, we came upon his third winery, so we decided to go in there.  It looked good to us:

And we thought we looked good on its steps.  We went inside and found Luke to take care of us.  The winery was Chateau Yaldara and Luke was a big, burly guy, covered in tattoos, and just as nice as could be.  We tasted a 2022 Sauvignon Blanc that wasn’t acidic at all.  I loved it and I should have bought some.  Next we had the 2018 Foundations Shiraz, which was perfectly delicious.  I wasn’t as big on the Petit Verdots, but their Tawny (Port that you cannot call Port) was to die for.  His wife had incorporated it into chocolates that made me break my fast.  Now, if they had been selling those, I would surely have bought some.  It’s probably just as well, though, because the temperature was going up over a hundred and we were a long way from the ship.

We left Chateau Yaldara very happy and got happier still when we happened to spy the big signs for Keller Meister that everyone had been telling us about, everyone but google maps, that is.  We turned in there and it was just stunning, as were the wines, served by the very personable Kerry.  She served us a very nice 2021 Pinot Gris from the Eden Valley, called Rambling Ruins and a 2019 Barossa Grenache Shiraz Mataro called The Funk Wagon.  When we reacted nicely, she got into the Luxury reds, like the 2020 Black Sash Old Vine Barossa Shiraz, which goes for $88.50AUD and the 2018 Roccamora Single Vineyard Ancestor Vine Stonegarden Eden Valley Grenache at $175/bottle, and the 2017 The Meister – Single Vineyard Eden Valley Shiraz at $265/bottle that won Best of the Best Shiraz at the 2021 Halliday Wine Competition.  She never charged us a penny to pour all this beautiful wine.  This Napa girl thought she had died and gone to heaven and this is what heaven looks like to Nona and Helen.

Slade dropped us back at St. Francis Cathedral in Adelaide around two o’clock, as it was on Nona’s bucket list and the Starrs wanted to see it, too.  The more I tour churches in other parts of the world, the more I appreciate Montreal, where we decommission churches that are more beautiful than most new world cities’ cathedrals.  I’ll bone up on ours if anyone who visits me is interested.  St. Francis was in easy walking district of the Central Market, and markets are always on our list.  So is Chinese food and Slade had told us of BBQ City, with the Ducks and Char Siu hanging in the window.  We went in and had a meal that doubled as breakfast and supper.

So, we went to the early show, and it was a good one, a local Australian group, called “The Beggars”.  They were very like The Seekers (Georgy Girl, etc.) and very entertaining. 

Friday, February 17, we were in Penneshaw, on Kangaroo Island.  It was a tender port, there was no rush to get off, and I had work to do.  When I did go out around noon, I met Lynann on the tender and we hooked up.  We took the shuttle up to the top of the mountain and then to the center of the tiny town.  There are only 5,000 people on this little piece of heaven, and they are spread all over the place.  Their lifeline is a very businesslike looking ferry to the mainland.  On days like this, when there’s a ship, there’s a crafts market and artists and other vendors come over from the mainland.  Their wildlife rescue team has a booth, too.  That’s the kind of thing I like to support, so I bought six art carts for $20 AUD, which was actually a bargain, period.  They had brought a rescue joey with them.  This little guy was the size of your fist, all pink and hairless, when his mother got killed.  He’s eight weeks old now and appears to be thriving.  I asked to take his picture and was told I had to buy something, and, since I already had, you get a look at this adorable little guy.  They have a few months to go before he is up and running and ready to re-join a herd, if one will take him.  But he’s awfully cute and I wish him luck.

We went around to the rest of the booths and had some interesting chats with the vendors.  One of the things we learned is that we are one of the friendliest ship populations they have had through.  I get that.  We are together for four months and get to be more like family.  Someone told me the gelato place down the road’s product was special, so I planned to break my fast with a salted caramel honey gelato in a magic cone.  I could just taste it, as we went through the local IGA, which was a good one. I popped another six yoghurts in my bag for breaking other fasts.  I can’t have tea all the time, too many carbs.

Lynann fell in love with the blue-eyed Greek, who was dispensing the gelato.  He had run out of salted caramel but one scoop of honey gelato and one of the darkest chocolate gelato I had ever met satisfied me but good.  Lynann wanted to take the vendor home with her.  He was pretty cute. 

Our table was reunited for dinner and Jim Short was on stage again and even better than the first time. 

Back at sea on Saturday, February 18,  office hour was quiet, so I had a long talk with Manesh, 2IC to the Hotel Manager.  If anyone is going to Singapore anytime soon, eat at Zam Zam.  It’s Malaysian, Indian, Arab fusion.  Have matapa, which is naan with meat curry with everything in it. The fish head curry is fabulous, too.  Are you salivating yet?  We talked about a lot of food and some drink.  I recommended the Atlas Gin Bar for his next trip, and we’ll both end up in the Newton Circus Hawker Center, eating chili crab, because we always do.

We had our 4^th of 6 cocktail parties, with 47 people attending.  The hors d’oeuvres are good and the wine flows.  No one complains.  A couple of people, hearing about the RSAYS wanted to know when the next yacht club would be, so I’ll research Perth.  Thirty of them came to dinner in the dining room afterwards and that was a lot of fun.  There is a core group that likes to come to these things and they are getting along famously. There was a production show on stage to top the night off. 

There was one more sea day, Sunday, February 19. I did a little googling for yacht clubs in Perth and struck gold.  We are going to be there on a Tuesday night, when there isn’t usually all that much doing, but it seemed this Tuesday was the night of the New Members’ Dinner.  We had either lucked out or were going to be summarily turned away.  So I wrote the club: “I am a member of both the Royal Hong Kong (life absent) and the Royal St. Lawrence (active) Yacht clubs. Attached is one of my letters of introduction.  Currently sailing around the world, on the ms Zuiderdam, I will be in Perth on Tuesday, February 21 and staying overnight. I would love to bring a few friends to visit. Would it be appropriate for us to come to your New Members “A Taste of Nepal? It sounds delicious. How many people would you allow me to bring?“

And in a second email, quickly added: “ After I wrote that, I continued browsing your site and it brought back a great memory. I was in Newport in 1983 for the America’s Cup. As a member of the RStLYC, I was on one of the Canadian frigates that was serendipitously used as a buoy by Australia II and the British entry, Victory.83, at the start of their race. I’ll never forget that experience. They went around us three or four times and we couldn’t figure out how Australia II was turning on a dime… It’s history, now.”

As it was Sunday, I didn’t get an immediate reply, but when I did, it was perfect.  Our little group of six was back at the dinner table, after a few days off, and it was fun catching up.  The show was Sand Artist, John Thiering, and it was very clever, but it was hard to stay awake. 

2023 – 2 – Grand World 2.1 of 5 Sydney and Port Arthur

Monday, February, 6, is a national holiday in Australia.  It’s the day the treaty was signed in 1840.  We spent it at sea.  The desk was busy but I won’t bore you with the details.  We had dinner in The Pinnacle for 27 people and it went very well.  Everyone dressed up and behaved themselves and many told me they were pleased with the seating arrangements that had them meeting new people.  I felt like Perle Mesta.

On Tuesday, February 7, still at sea, my email bought a question about the Zuiderdam, from friends who were booking a cruise on her.  I answered: “BB King is Rolling Stone here – more rock, less blues.  How good it is depends on the band.  We have a good one at the moment.  The first one was just too loud.  They have a piano bar with two pianos in it and it’s a nice place to have a drink.  The decor of the ship is pleasant.  It’s a good long walk end to end.  The Crow’s Nest doubles as the Explorations Cafe and has games and such in it.  That doesn’t thrill me.  A lot of the furniture is very uncomfortable, so you can’t light in one place for too long.  She’s a really pretty ship but this crowd, veterans of many world cruises, wishes they had the Amsterdam back.  It was cozier.

The food is good.  The dining room menu sometimes has three things I really want one night, and nothing the next, but we always get well fed.  The Pinnacle is still delicious.  I took 26 people there last night.  They paid for themselves but I poured from my Cellar no 2, and the Merlot was very popular.  Luna Pinot Grigio was on the list but they had run out of it, only a month in.  The substitute was fine, but I am sure Mike Moone would not be pleased to have made the list, only to have had them not buy enough wine. 

The entertainment is pretty good but they have a nasty habit of skipping a night at least once a week.  That never used to happen.”

The next day, Wednesday, February 8, was our last day at sea before Sydney.  I worked the office hour, put together and delivered a four-page newsletter, including two pages of spreadsheets on our activities in Sydney.  I stopped in the middle of my deliveries to eat something at my 3:30 pm breakfast time, and again later when the Canaletto opened to get a couple of dates.  Then I fielded a bunch of phone calls about Sydney, packed my overnight bag, and went to Happy Hour.  There were a lot of people there, with last minute Sydney questions.  Dinner was good and Cantare, too.

Finally, it was Thursday, February 9, and we were docked in Sydney, Australia.  The ride in on the shuttle rom White Bay to Darling Harbour was uneventful.  With my backpack on my back and Roffice doubling as an overnight bag, I was still mobile but not ready to walk a mile.  I pretty much had to, though.  I found the signs confusing, did not fancy escalators up, with no promise of escalators down on the other side of the highway, etc.  I was a pretty unhappy camper, to tell the truth.  My “go-to”, in such situations, is the best hotel I can see from where I am.  Fancy hotels have doormen, concierges and taxi ranks.  The mistake I made was thinking the taxi rank on the side street beside the hotel, was the official one.  I got a map from the Sofitel concierge and just took the first taxi in the rank.  Google had said it should cost $13-$16 to get to the Sydney Boutique Hotel in Darlinghurst.  I didn’t negotiate on the way in and I never asked to see the meter.  I paid the little shit the $47 he asked for just to get it over with.  And Google had been right.  I was robbed.

Putu, the desk clerk, was the first to offer sympathy for that, and he sweetly schlepped my bags upstairs, too.  It was a nice little place, and I had a nice little balcony, but there was no nice little elevator.  I had been so busy organizing opera tickets and dinners before for a lot of people, that I had been glad to just fall in with the hotel already chosen by Dorothy’s daughter.  And, wouldn’t you know it, my gel polish manicure had parted company with one of my nails last night and needed to come off. 

I found a thing called “Nail Lab” just around the corner and Putu showed me the quick way to get there.  They only had an appointment to remove my red claws, with no time to re-apply.  I took it and postponed my meeting with old Hong Kong friends, Helen Pakchung and Nick Hamilton-Kane, a half hour to fit it in.  There was a cute little coffee shop with a terrace behind, next door to the nail place. I texted all this to Helen and they arrived, by train from the suburbs, fifteen minutes early and popped into the nail salon, where I was having my nails stripped, right in the window.  They went next door and I joined them in due course.  It had begun to rain, so we sat inside after all.

Then the skies opened.  Helen and Nick, who live there, had never see anything like it, except in HK, of course, where we called it a typhoon.  There wasn’t as much wind involved as a proper typhoon, but there was thunder and lightning and it was pelting down in buckets.  It never bothered us a bit and was over by the time we were done catching up over pastries and hot chocolate.  I am so lucky to have good friends all over the world.  Next time I come to Sydney, I am invited to stay with them, and I think I will.  Here’s a picture for my HK friends, who will remember Helen and Nick.  It was taken after the rain stopped, by Vicki, whom we just happened to meet. 

Back at the hotel, I made a phone call to the company that was transporting my Opera goers back to White Bay Cruise Terminal after the performance, and got that all squared away.  Then I used the services of the excellent Putu, to help me organize an Uber to take Cindy, Frank and myself to the Opera.  Vicki had done the same.  The Ubers duly arrived and took us to the Opera for about $15AU each.  It was about the same distance I had paid the $47 for, grrrrr.

I was able to pick up all the tickets I had booked at Will Call and those who had booked their own had no trouble either.  They did organize one big table for us for dinner and it did have a lovely view over the harbour as promised.  So far, so very good:

Don Giovanni, from seat F23 in the Sydney Opera House, was nothing short of magnificent.  I had bought that seat back in October, and it was one of the best in the house.  Everyone on our group had pretty decent seats, too, as this crowd was willing to pay for the best.  They weren’t coming by here that often, after all.  The sets, costumes and performers were all exceptional and three and a half hours passed swiftly for most of us.  There was, of course, no photography allowed during the performance, but Dee got this shot of the curtain calls:

The van driver was a good communicator and I was able to send that contingent off in a timely fashion at the end of the show.  I had left my hat at the dinner venue, and Cindy Lai, bless her, retrieved it for me while I was getting the van people off.  Then our little hotel contingent of seven, set off to find an Uber.  It had been easy when we had good WiFi, but, despite having been able to talk on the phone to the van driver, it wouldn’t work well enough on the cell network to find us a ride – or two.  So we walked out, found cabs, negotiated and got back to the hotel for less than $20 per cab.  As we were getting out of our cab, I got a text saying the minibus had just delivered my ten people back to the ship.  We had lost the others, but Frank and Cindy and I had a nightcap at the Kings Cross’ Rooftop bar, down the street.  There we met a delightful young couple and felt young again, ourselves. 

I woke up early in the hotel, on Friday, and realized I hadn’t planned this stayover well at all.  The smartest thing I could do was probably to take an Uber right back to the ship, drop my stuff and come out again, the ship’s shuttle being one of the better ways to get to Darling Harbour.  I managed to shoot myself in the foot again, this time with Uber.  While on hotel WiFi it would only let me book 40 minutes in advance and wanted $37 for that ride.  Once I had it booked, a cheaper, immediate ride presented itself.  I clicked and took it, getting to the ship for $22.  I asked the driver if the first ride would self-cancel as I couldn’t cancel it once I had left the WiFi and he said it would.  It didn’t and Uber charged me a $30 cancellation fee.  I am so careful not to waste a penny of my clients’ money but, when it’s my own, and I am in a hurry, my guard is down.  I have put in a claim with Uber, who seem to be ignoring it, so I’ll be claiming through PayPal.  It’s all a large PIA. 

I had enough time on the ship to clear my email before getting back in the shuttle line, which was unexpectedly long and slow.  But, I made it to Darling Harbour with 5 minutes to spare to meet my people who wanted to be led to DimSum.  Most of them had gone on their own, wanting to do Paddy’s Market before, rather than after.  Some opted to walk and five of us decided on a taxi, so we walked back over to the Sofitel, as I had done yesterday.  The concierge ordered us a big one this time, but, after about 15 minutes, it had failed to appear, so we took two regular cabs, for about $10 each. 

We had the usual trouble finding our way in to Zilver, but it was very rewarding, once found.  It’s one of the best Dim Sum places in the world, outside of Hong Kong. I don’t have pictures, I was too busy eating.  Next we betook ourselves to Paddy’s Markets, which is rather a shadow of its former self.  I won’t be back here again, I am afraid.  I did get a battery into my cheap watch that will give it another couple of years, and I now have a few more pairs of underwear.  Lynann and I had a nice chat with an ABC, but that was all. 

The journey back to Darling Harbour was no fun and it could have been so easy, had the locals we talked to, a parking monitor and a bank security guard, known how simple travel in Sydney had become.  What none of us knew is that you can tap your chipped credit card to take any public transportation.  We couldn’t get a taxi, but there was a tram that would have been a lot of help.  As it was, we ended up walking all the way to Darling Harbour from Haymarket, which wouldn’t have been a big deal, had we not been old and somewhat decrepit.  It was a 13,000 step day and my ankle had a lot to complain about.  Lynann was just so tired that she missed the step getting into the bus and scraped her shin on it.  I am terrified of broken skin in that area, having known of a couple of horror stories personally.  So we got her a wheelchair and whisked her into the medical centre on arrival at the ship.  Her cut was duly dressed and is probably going to be just fine, but you can’t be too careful of such a thing.  We aren’t sure the nurse agreed with us.  She had the personality of a rock through it all and we pretty much missed one of the best sailaways in the world.  This is what it looked like from the medical centre on Deck A:

Lynann’s own balcony was better:

There was a race going on.  Note the black jib.  There were a lot of black sails.  Must be something new, and doubtless fast, but pretty ugly, particularly when both jib and main are black. 

Somehow, we both managed to hobble to dinner, which was good and we were rewarded with some of the best entertainment so far, pianist Hyperion Knight.  He really lifted our spirits.  I love a good pianist. 

Back at sea on Saturday, February 11, it was a fairly easy office hour, with thanks and good reports of Sydney.  Cher came by to tell me to tell all of you about George’s Restaurant in Darling Harbur, where the Internet is blazing fast and it’s not crowded at all. 

Fifty people attended out third cocktail party and 32 of them came to dinner afterward.  These dinners are a lot of fun and there was a production show to follow. 

I took Sunday, February 12 in Port Arthur, Australia pretty much off.  It was a tender port and pretty windy.  I elected to stay on board and try to catch up with my logging and bloging.  I spent the Port Arthur sailaway in the Crow’s Nest with Frank and Cindy, and we had Hyperion Knight at our table for dinner.  He was the most absolutely delightful dinner guest you could imagine. 

2023 – 5 – Grand World 1.5 of 5 Tonga to Sydney

On Monday, January 30, we docked in Nuku Alofa, Tongatapu, Tonga.  That’s a mouthful.  I got some work done, research for upcoming ports and such.  Then I went out for a little walk around town, which isn’t much but the weather was getting interesting.  Here are some clouds gathering at the back of the Zuiderdam:

Those fluffy little marshmallows bulked up until they became a full-fledged squall.  We were having sail-away on Deck 3, being entertained by the police band and dancers on shore, when it hit.  The entertainers bravely waited until the last minute to scatter, as did we.  In fact, we waited a little longer, but when the drops started bouncing 10 inches in the air on the exposed part of the deck, we all ran for cover.  It was over in fifteen minutes and the ship sailed. 

There was a movie on the Main Stage tonight.  It was “Joyride” and the description was most unappetizing.  I decided it was time for more Rolling Stone and Piano Bar.  Those who went confirmed the wisdom of that decision.  Everybody I talked to had walked out in disgust. 

Tuesday, January 31, was a sea day.  We are hearing about the flooding in Auckland and, of course, we are all worried that we may not even land there.  It’s a couple of days out.  When I was done with the office hour, I posted a log to Distinctive Voyages and a blog to WordPress and went out on Deck 3 to a nice lounge chair, with my computer.  Lots of wind made it a bit of a challenge but it was lovely out there and I didn’t blow away.  Stephen Barry was back on the main stage and he was even better than the first time, more relaxed with the audience.

At sea, again on Wednesday, February 1, after office hour, I called the people who had not responded re our upcoming shore excursion, and I called Nyron to get the last few answers to questions like “Is there water on the bus?” Then I wrote and delivered a newsletter.  A bunch of people, including Linda Starr came to Happy Hour.  I had asked her to come to discuss how to handle the slower walkers, to whom I had already delivered tour stickers.  Linda agreed to stand at the end of the gangway from 7:25 with a DV sign.  She had the good idea to make it a large DV logo with “Friends of Helen M.”  on it.  If you know who “Friends of Bill W.” are, that might give you a chuckle.  It did me. 

We had a nice dinner and saw Saxophonist Barry Seacroft again, on stage.

Finally, on Thursday, February 2, we made it to civilization, Auckland, New Zealand.  Fans of green tipped mussels unite.  We did and we didn’t.  The Starrs know a seaside dive a short ferry away that has super ones for half what we paid, but we were happy.  I had introduced Ken and Noreen Stein to The Occidental Bar on Vulcan Lane, about 8 years ago, and it has been that for them, ever since.  I wasn’t going to argue.  It’s a Belgian bar and “moules frites” is a Belgian dish.  Lynann came with us and Dee and Wells found us after their errand in Sydney.  A half kilo of Mussels was $22.95 and a whole kilo was $27.95.  That’s about $3.50 US for the second half kilo.  We probably should have shared but most of us didn’t.  We just stuffed ourselves. 

Then Nona, and I went to Chemist Warehouse for some cheap drugs and I let her talk me into walking further up the very steep hill, which necessitated walking down the next street.  One shouldn’t do that on a full stomach and a bad ankle.  By the time we got back to the ship, I had to lie down and meditate.  I don’t sleep in the afternoon, so I just lay there and moaned. There was no entertainment that night, but I didn’t need any.  I just took my sorry, stuffed ass to bed.

I got up early on Friday, February 3, because it was our Shore Excursion Day, in Tauranga (Rotorua), New Zealand, kind of like the Teddy Bear’s Picnic, after all those sea days.  There had been a bit of a mix-up and at one point the ShorEx department had put a different meeting place in the Navigator App, from the one I had in my newsletter.  So I took one of my “Friends of Helen M.” signs, added the correct location in felt marker, and put it in the wrong place to catch anyone who might have gone there.  My good people all duly showed up, on time, in the right place, and off we went, in two buses, one with me, and one with the Starrs.

The guides were Maori and so very interesting to talk to, especially the one on my bus.  One of the places we passed early on was a surf beach, and it was lined with hundreds of holiday homes.  There were no tents or trailers here.  These were the second homes of the well-to-do.  One of them bore the name of the owner’s race horse.  You get the picture.  Then we passed a golf course, one of six on the island, and more prosperous looking suburbs. Next was a large retirement village of smaller but nice homes.   When they started building them about 30 years ago, you had to be 65 to qualify, but the demand is so high that they have raised the age bar to 75.

Autearoa, where we were, means land of the common people.  We were visiting the Ngāti Mākino, a group of approximately 2,000 members, based in the Bay of Plenty. The Ngāti Mākino Deed of Settlement is the final settlement of all their historical Treaty of Waitangi claims, resulting from acts or omissions by the Crown prior to 21 September 1992, and is made up of a package that includes an agreed historical account and Crown acknowledgements; cultural redress; financial and commercial redress.  The benefits of the settlement will be available to all members of Ngāti Mākino, wherever they live.

It looks like a pretty good deal now, but you have to remember that this an indigenous people whose ancestral lands were confiscated and they got maybe 22% of them back.  These tours are a way to tell their story.

Maori means common or natural people.  The tribe we visited are the Ōtamarākau and the Marae is the village. Only no one lives there.  They all live either on farms or in those nice suburbs we passed.  The Marae is a meeting place and burial ground.  They come to it to honor their ancestors and to teach the likes of us.  We had to go through a little ceremony to acknowledge that we came in peace.  I was the group leader but, not being male, ineligible to speak for us.  That was when I was pleased to have the Rabbi as the second bus monitor.  Arthur Starr did us proud. 

We sat in the meeting house and learned our lessons, surrounded by pictures of dead ancestors, some pretty recent looking.  Then we were taken around the property, on foot and by little van.  We learned how they cooked “hangi” style, burying the meat and veggies covered in leaves and with hot stones, for hours.  Our guide explained how his tattoos honored his ancestors and admitted that he was in his forties before he got them.  Like, when they came into fashion?

He was a lovely man, as were his stories, and his fellow tribesfolk.  One of the things we learned, from the topography and the story that went with it, is that the Maori invented trench warfare.  I’ll spare you the grizzly details here, but catch me over a glass of wine, some time.  The lunch they gave us, which had been cooked in the hangi method, went way beyond our expectations and was even served with very nice New Zealand wine.  We are now considered part of the tribe and will be welcomed back whenever we choose to return.  This is a class act. 

Ours was only the sixth group to visit this particular Marae and had the honor of planting a tree to mark our passing through.  Here is Dee getting the job done.  She’s good at that.

We named ours “The Distinctive Tree” and it’s a Manuka tree, yes, like the honey.  The honey is named after the tree on which the bees feed.  This is the best medicinal honey you can get.  It really will get rid of your cold and a good many other ailments, but you must buy the unpasteurized version.  The pasteurization process eliminates the healing properties.  Of course the unpasteurized stuff is four times the price, and may be hard to get, anywhere else in the world.

The highways are in excellent condition and there are cycle paths within sight of the main highway, but at a safe distance.  You can cycle the whole length of New Zealand, both North and South Islands.  The cycle path even has its own little bridges.  Exports are timber, dairy products, meat and Kiwi fruit.  Tepuke is the world capital of Kiwi Fruit.  They grow on vines, like grapes, and are coddled with fans and such, like Napa grapes. 

We got back in time for a nice sailaway, a good dinner and a good entertainer.  She was Debora Krizak who sang the kind of songs we like to listen to.

I can’t tell you much about Gisborne, New Zealand, because I didn’t even get off on Saturday, February 4.  It was a tender port, which wastes a lot of time, the weather was iffy, to put it nicely, and I had catching up to do.  You would have thought it was this blog, but it was regular client work and more prep for Sydney.  I had two outings planned for 23 people, some of whom were doing both, and the Sydney Opera House buying sites, yes, with an “s”, had proven to be a nightmare.  So I sorted that lot out and got it on to spreadsheets, with everyone’s cellphone, which I was very glad of in Sydney. Then I got out a letter for our dinner in the Pinnacle, which was coming up soon.  The male quartet “Cantare” were easy on the eyes and ears.

On February 5, we docked in Wellington, New Zealand and it was time to go out and play a bit.  Nona and I got off around 10:00 am and took the ship’s shuttle to the middle of town, Lambton Quay.  From there we took the cable car up to the top of the Botanical Gardens.

The path through the Botanical Gardens is supposed to be downhill, but it’s not that clearly marked.  I did know, that when it came out on the street, it would continue downhill.  But, it might not continue to Begonia house, which Nona and Annie wanted to see.  I found out that it would, but Annie was sure the uphill path within the garden was shorter.  It might have been, but it was miserable, for none more than Annie herself, who has vertigo.  But we made it, and the flowers were, indeed, beautiful.

And so were the natives:

Yeah, well.  On down the hill we went, through this cemetery, with its quaint, pathetic inscriptions.

Then we ambled along Lambton Quay, where I bought myself a very soft Merino and Possum sweater, with which I am well pleased.  From there we took the shuttle to its second stop, near the harbour, the Te Papa Museum, and the Royal Port Nicholson Yacht Club.  The goal was a beer at the Yacht Club.  The reality was folkloric dancers, people jumping into the harbour from a commercial platform, never intended for that, some time with a friendly Irish Setter, a look at a closed yacht club, and food trucks.  OMG.  There was Mr. Circle, a Chinese pancake food truck whose product looked like something I had been introduced to in Beijng.  Since the YC was closed, I went straight there while Nona browsed the rest of the offerings.  The weather was getting worse, and they were closing down.  By the time she figured out she wasn’t going to find better, my pork belly pancake was ready.  It was huge, so we just split it and that was perfect.  The next thing Nona did was take a picture of the food truck, in case she should run across one again.  It was truly yummy.  That was an 11,000 step day, a thing I hadn’t been able to do for years, and I rewarded my ankle with a nice hot bath. 

The entertainment was a movie, again, and I skipped it, again, and curled up with my book.

2023 – Grand World – Part 1.4 Polynesia

Monday, January 23 to January 29

On Monday, January 23, we were docked in Uturoa, Raiatea, Society Islands, French Polynesia.  The Internet is good on Port days, so that’s when I make any phone calls I have to make, using WiFi Calling.  I also book things, like the van for the ride back, lunch at the Occidental Bar in Auckland, where they have the best green tipped mussels, and Dim Sum for a lot of people at Zilver, in Sydney.  Then I put the finishing touches on my pre-Cocktail Party Newsletter, which I planned to deliver on the 24^th.

Around mid-day I went out for a walk around the town of Uturoa.  It’s a neat little place.  I walked as far as this pretty little roundabout, which shows off the geography nicely. 

Then I walked back along the main street, browsing shops along the way, finding nothing at all to buy.  But I was never so glad I had gone out as when I came upon this Lion Dance, ushering in the year of the Rabbit and calling down prosperity on, wouldn’t you know it, a bank.  They were suiting up in the street when I came upon them and I followed them right into the bank. 

How good was that?  It was a lot better than the ship’s entertainment that night.  That was the Biddys a good concept but the jokes were old and the rewritten songs, just silly.  The Lame Old Ladies, Lynann, Dee and I, could have done a sight better. 

Tuesday, January 24, 2023

Raiatea, Society Islands, French Polynesia 

I didn’t need to go out again, although Linda Starr later informed me I had missed some good, cheap snorkeling.  A local boat was taking people out for $25 each.  They went to a little atoll, with a reef, and the fishies were very, very pretty.  It only took a couple of hours, total, and is a one-of-a-kind experience.  I felt rather a dunce.  I did get my newsletter out, though, and more nice deck time, both lounging and walking.

There was a lovely sail away.  I introduced two of my Hawaii people, Bob Todd and Beryl Mitton, to each other.  Then I enjoyed a good dinner and a good entertainer.  He was Stephen Barry, and he’s headed for Broadway in March.  He’ll be in “The Bridges of Madison County”, doubtless with a lot less grandstanding. His voice is excellent and he’s easy on the eyes.  Watch for him. 

Wednesday, January 25, 2023

Bobi Salzman’s electric wheelchair is still giving a lot of trouble.  It won’t hold its charge for more than a half hour or so.  She has a new power supply and the whole joy stick apparatus on order, as well as a power supply for her oxygen, to be delivered to the ship in Auckland.  She’s being awfully good about it, but it’s not fun. 

My office hour was pretty busy, with signups and opera traffic, still.  Now they are starting to pay for the ride home that I have arranged.  I wish I had got a picture of Henk striding through the Atrium with a broom in his hand, announcing “new Broom, Sweeps Clean”. 

At five o’clock we had our second Cocktail Party, supposedly to welcome guests who boarded in Papeete.  I didn’t have any but was happy to host another free cocktail party.  Some people are just discovering that the wine is free at these things.  I’ll have to mention that in a newsletter and see if attendance goes up. 

There were about six tables, all on a raised section and poor Bobi couldn’t eat with us after all.  I’ll try to have that fixed for the next time.  On the Amsterdam, there was a ramp up to the raised part, but this is a different ship.  The Chinese people were at my first table, and so were Tracy, with her bit of Mandarin and Mario, who had been communicating with them by translating machine.  It was so good to see them smiling and becoming part of the group.

I figured out a new fun trick. I table hop and let the servers choose which will be my main course and dessert tables, when I order from the first place I sit down.  Then I order a bottle of wine from my package and have it delivered to the table they are planning to serve me dinner at.  It’s half gone by the time I get there and it’s a very happy table. 

Since dinner was earlier than usual for me, because of the cocktail party, I killed some time in the Rolling Stone Lounge, where I was joined by Peggy, Vicki and Doris.  We had a wonderful time.  I was even dancing.  At 9:30 pm, I joined my table mates at the main show and it was excellent, Saxophonist, Barry Seacroft, from New Zealand. 

Back at sea on January 26, I dealt with some business by email and some more at my office hour.  Cher is interested in a DV that goes to Alaska.  I told her there were plenty of them I could help her find and started by referring her to the one I am hosting this summer.  I worked over the pictures I took last night and had tea with Bobi again.  This time I didn’t run off to deliver newsletters, but I did make a couple of laps around the Promenade deck to work off the scones and all.  At 6 o’clock, I went poolside in my fascinator for the Derby Party.  It wasn’t much, and at 6:30, I was due in the Crow’s Nest anyway, for Happy Hour

On Friday, January 27, we were still at sea at Sea.  My nailpolish started to go last night, so I called as soon as the Spa opened at 8:00 am and got an appointment for 9:00 am.  Now my fingernails are as red as my toenails.  I wasn’t happy with the creamy color I had chosen a couple of weeks ago, anyway. 

As usual, I found too many small things to do with my day and didn’t have time to write.  After dinner, I decided to skip the Biddies and had a delightful night in the Piano Bar.  Lots of my people were there.

Saturday, January 28, 2023, was a lost day crossing the dateline. For us, there was no Saturday.  That caused a little problem in the Hudson Room on Friday night when the Rabbi’s Shabbat services, held on Friday night, collided with the Priest’s Saturday evening mass, held the eve of Sunday.  They did manage to sort it out.  They are the friendliest of competitors, probably even friendlier than the hosts on board.  And we are very friendly.

Sunday, January 29, was a sea day, so an office hour.  One of my people got me going when she found something booked in the Explorer’s Lounge at the time of Sandra Hobson’s talk on hearing.  I investigated and all was well. Sandra’s talk went very well.  There were 15 people in attendance and any comments I got later were very positive.  I learned we start developing speech and language in the womb and about the challenges deaf people face growing up, the biggest of which is figuring how not to look stupid when you can’t hear.  I also learned why they now sell you a pair of hearing aids, when it used to be just one.  We hear differently with each ear.  The left ear is dominant for pitch and music, while the right ear performs better with speech and grammar.  We want her back to get into the nitty gritty of what, and what not, to pay for when buying a hearing aid. 

For Happy Hour, I had finally organized for Bob Michie and Dee Wescott to meet face-to-face.  I am sure it was disappointing for him, when she told him she wasn’t organizing any diving this trip and doubted that her friend, who was doing it, would welcome another person.  By coincidence, a couple who had lived 15 years in Waikoloa, HI, where the Wescotts live now. Mario and Becky and Sandra and Dan were there, too.  A good happy hour. 

There was a production show after dinner and it was good, too. 

2023 – Grand World – Part 1.3 Crossing the Pacific and Polynesia

Monday, January 16, was the seventh of eight days at sea and I still wasn’t sick of it.   There’s so much work to be done at the beginning of a world cruise that they are a blessing.  Don Giovanni at the Sydney Opera House is popular and people are coming in with their particulars, credit cards, etc.  A few people came by with credit card information, but I couldn’t buy anything.  The Internet wasn’t cooperating.

I had a massage booked at the spa, with Titaka, but the ship had commandeered her for training.  The Spa manager tried to convince me to take another kind of massage or to reschedule.   I tried to learn more about the different styles of massage and couldn’t wrap my mind around it.  All I knew was that it was stressing me out and that’s not what a massage is supposed to do.  So, I cancelled the whole package of them and felt immediately better.  I worked in my room for a bit and went to Elliot Finkle’s Classical piano recital at two o’clock.  I love a good pianist playing classical music.  It was a small venue and it was packed.  I worked some more, went to Happy hour and dinner.  The entertainment was the movie “The Woman King” with Viola Davis.  She is always good but I wouldn’t have wasted my time on it, if I wasn’t on board ship.

Tuesday, January 17, was day 8 at sea, and business as usual. Kilmainham Jail have replied and I am holding a reservation for a private tour for between 20 and 35 people at 6 euros each.  Brilliant. I’ll ask my Dublin friends Mary and Sean to help me find a pub and invite them along.  My people will love them.

I wrote another newsletter and then I had tea with Bobi Salzman and ran off on her to deliver it.  Then it was time for Happy Hour and dinner.  Chris Pendleton was on the Main Stage again and she was great, again. 

Land Ho, on January 18.  It was Nuku Hiva, French Polynesia.  It’s a tender port and tendering was difficult because of waves and dock conditions ashore.  After all this time at sea, it wasn’t easy or safe to get off.  I’ve been here before and I was still catching up with myself.  I did some of my own client work and was very happy to get email confirming Tracy LI into the group. 

I had an email from the Chinese people’s son in Vancouver.  I send him my newsletter by email and he translates for them, emailing me when he needs clarification.  It’s working.  Tracy Li is from Vancouver, too, and she knows a bit of Mandarin.  Hopefully she will help.  They can always use the Chinese alphabet to communicate. 

I also got email from the Sydney Opera House Box Office to the effect that each customer would have to be beside me to authorize a transaction on his or her credit card.  So, I spent most of the day chasing them all down and meeting them here or there, until we had bought all the tickets and dinners.  It really WAS megaproject.  Three people are staying overnight in Sydney after the Opera.  One of them is flying out the next morning and the other two are joining me for Dim Sum.  I’m thinking I would like to do the same and maybe offer it to the rest of the group.  I decided to mull it over for a day or three.

There’s no Happy Hour on a port day.  I go to sail away instead.  There was an odd event called a “Glamp-Out” on the Lido Deck, that our table decided to skip.  That turned out to be a wise decision.  Lynann and I went up after dinner to see how it went and the crew were mopping up, because it poured, and the band played on.  Too loudly for our tastes.

We were back at sea on January 19.  There is still plenty of office hour traffic, with people coming to sign up for tours and my other offerings.  I decided to stay overnight in Sydney and booked myself into the Sydney Boutique Hotel.  There were seven of us at Happy Hour.  Rebecca Kelly was back on stage doing Carole King songs.  I only stayed for about five minutes.  I left because I hate it when the performer involves the audience in the show.  I was later told she settled in and was very good.  My loss. 

Friday, January 20, was another sea day.  I spent the morning before office, making birthday cards for February.   If I get better pictures, I may re-make but these are nice. 

One of my people is becoming my fitness guru. She came by to show me her Renpho Mini Percussion Massage Tool, which she highly recommends for my arthritis and other structural defects.  I thought about getting one from Amazon and having it delivered to Auckland, when I remembered the voltage differential cum power supply problem.  I will get one, but not until I get back to North America.  I’ll get a little manual Bodo at Chemist Warehouse, instead.  It’s a piece of wood carved just so, to get into knots in muscles and ligaments. 

The Starrs stopped by to chat and I spent a good part of the afternoon figuring out how to book a vehicle to transport my people back to White Bay Cruise Terminal from the Opera.  I did come up with a plan.  In doing so I realized I would have to nail it down and collect up front,  not to get left holding the bag.  I would set it up to make a bit of a profit and then spend it on wine for the group.  I‘ll be buying wine, anyway.  All of this in mind, I wrote and delivered my first “OperaLetter” not to be confused with a “NewsLetter”, and only for those who had Opera tickets. 

Six people at Happy Hour, a fine dinner, and Classique, a very nice production show.

Finally, on Saturday, January 21, we docked in Papeete, Tahiti, French Polynesia.  I went walkabout, looking to buy this and that, and coming up with not much other than some Arnica, by the French company, Boiron, which I swear by.  Yes, I know you can get it in Quebec now, but I am pretty sure the French stuff is stronger.  You can’t really tell, because they don’t have to print the strength on the packaging of homeopathic medicine in Canada. 

I was looking for yoghurt, fruit yoghurt in one serving containers, that I could keep in the fridge in the cabin.  The ship doesn’t stock those anymore, to save packaging waste.  I met Wells Wescott, tooling around on his scooter near the Papeete farmer’s market, which ain’t what it used to be.  I went sailing off a curb in the middle of the sidewalk, where it should never be, and came down hard on my bad ankle.  More Arnica tonight for sure.  But I was lucky I didn’t fall and just kept going.  I did aim back towards the ship after that, though.  Before I got there, I passed a bar, full of temptation, in the persons of Peggy, Vicki and Doris.  They hailed me down and I bought a beer and a snack in the hope of getting WiFi that both my Fitbit watch and cellphone could use to sync.  I was tired of being 5 ½ hours off.  It never happened.  There were just too many people in the bar.  For some reason, the iPhones could connect and the Androids could not.  You can imagine how happy that made me.  I feel I am being pushed towards an iPhone again and I hate the #$%^&*(*&^%$%^& things.    

Back on board I dealt with my messages, wrote a bit, and soon it was time to go out to the food trucks, always an event in Papeete.  There are a lot less of them than there used to be, COVID casualties here, too.  We went out early though and here is our dinner table, transplanted from the Zuiderdam.

And this is the Zuiderdam herself, by night:

We got back on board and I killed a little time in the piano bar before the folkloric show.  Both were very pleasant experiences. 

We sailed from Papeete to Morea at 5:00 am.  Needless to say, I didn’t go to sailaway at that hour.  Ken and Noreen, and who knows how many other young romantics, had taken a ferry over and slept in one of those romantic little huts over the water.  I have always wanted to do that but certainly not alone.  It’s way too romantic

I had a lot of paperwork to do, both for the Distinctive Voyage, and for clients back home.  So I stayed on board, got it done and didn’t feel one bit sorry for myself.

I was done in time for sailaway, but by the time I went to my room, stowed the computer, put on some sunscreen and got up to the Lido, aft, it was starting to sprinkle.  One of my couples had a little table against the wall with a bit of shelter, and I stayed with them, flattened against the wall in what turned out to be a real squall.  When it rains here, it pours.  Then it’s over, but it sure breaks up the party.

It was Chinese New Year’s Eve and Holland America decided to welcome in the year of the rabbit with a whole suckling pig at the Lido Buffet.  He was gorgeous.  I met Doris Reeves and the two of us bonded over suckling pig appetizers with roast duck pancakes. 

Kung Hei Fay Choy.

There were no such things in the dining room, when I went there at 7:30 pm, as usual.  We did manage to persuade our DR supervisor to get us more of the duck pancakes, though.  I wanted my whole table to have them, and they didn’t want to miss out on Chinese New Year, either.  The pancakes were good but better when we had them closer to the source. 

The main stage entertainment was a movie:  “Love Affair” with Warren Beaty and Annette Benning.  I passed in favor of a scotch at the Piano Bar.  It was a good choice. 

Tuesday, January 10 was the start of 8 days at sea.  An amazing thing has happened to my left ankle.  It no longer hurts when I get out of bed and put it on the floor.  All this walking the decks of a moving ship, delivering newsletters, appears to be really good for it. I am delighted. I’ll get a few massages, too, but just a few, as they are about three times the price I pay in Montreal and I don’t even know how good they will be.  It would be hard to beat the people I have looking after me back home. 

Quite a few people want to go to the Opera, and some have very specific requests.  One has to have an aisle seat or she will be very claustrophobic.  I got on the Opera House site and saw that aisle seats were almost gone, and half the price because they don’t have a full view of the stage.  Since she was part of a group of three, I got back to them with this info to see what they wanted to do.   Some people already have Opera tickets but like the idea of the Ouverture Dinner and ride back to the ship

Holland America allowed free phone calls to do some insurance work for a passenger and it turned out well. He is going to be able to have acupuncture treatments and we can start the paperwork much later, when we see how it’s going and have better Internet. 

The Opera thing is fast turning into mega-project.  We are seeking tickets for Don Giovanni, on Thursday, February 9, 7:00 pm show.  It’s a 3 hour and 20 minute show, including one intermission.  It will let out at 10:30 pm or so.  Then we’ll want a ride back to the ship.  This is a pay as you go for my subscribers.  I am just hands on the keyboard.  I have shared with the Shore Excursions Manager, that I am doing this and he is OK with it. Ours will include choosing their own seats, dinner and the ride.  Getting all this is turning out to be tough.  The Internet is not cooperating. 

At 2:00 pm, I had my first real meeting with the Shorex Manager.  The first thing he wants me to do is to have everyone watch his video on their stateroom TV that tells them how to book shore excursions and cautions about not booking that which they cannot handle.  It’s a perennial problem, mine and his.  It breaks our hearts to say no to our handicapped guests but it is getting harder and harder to accommodate them.  I volunteered to pay for easy tours out of my own pocket, when he told me HAL would not be offering alternatives. 

At Happy Hour, we worked n a birthday party for Sandra Hobson.  Sandra is very interesting.  She’s an Audiologist, because she has been deaf herself all her life.  They think it was the measles she contracted at age 2.  She copes amazingly well, lip reads, has super hearing aids, speaks a couple of kinds of sign language, etc.  They are on this cruise for their 50th wedding anniversary, which we’ll celebrate May 10.  Everyone was gone by 7:00 pm and I still had a half hour before dinner, so I went and sat with Elizabeth and Reuben, with whom I had sailed in 2012 and 2014.  He used to be the Dominican Republic’s ambassador to different countries, like the USA. 

Dinner at the table and an Elliot Finkel performance.  He’s a concert pianist whom we all know well.  He’ll be having dinner with us one of these nights. 

Wednesday, January 11, 2023, the second of eight sea days. The office was very busy.  It was sign ups and Opera stuff and a sad case.  One of my people was almost beside herself.  She had been sleeping on Deck 3 for a couple of nights.  Her cabin is under Rolling Stone.  She didn’t mind that the band played until eleven, but when the disco music started up after that and didn’t quit until 2:00 am, she couldn’t take it.  I promised to talk to the powers that be and get her relief. 

She had no sooner left when Shiv Charan, the Housekeeping manager came by.  We are old friends.  I decided to ask him how full the ship was, to get an idea of what my chances of getting a better room for Susan might be.  He reported 1228 passengers of a possible 1960.  That looked like plenty of room to me, so I told him why I wanted to know.  The next thing you know, he was back telling me to tell Susan to pick up the key for 1085 from the front desk and see if that one would suit.  She checked it, she liked it, she moved and she’s delighted.  She sleeps all she likes now.  Thanks, Shiv.

I had an appointment back in my room at 2:00 pm, with my Taiwanese people.  The husband came with his translating machine and after that was taking too long, he called his son in Vancouver.  I spoke to Jason and we exchanged emails and agreed that I would email him a copy of what I was sending to be printed and he would translate for his parents.  Very nice of him. 

I worked on the Hobson’s birthday party with them at Happy Hour and I learned that when you need to clear your ears on an airplane, you shouldn’t hold your nose and blow (the Valsalva method), you should hold your nose and swallow three times (Toynbee Method).  It’s safer.  And Sandra told me that I may refer anyone in the group with a hearing problem to her.  We have some interesting benefits.   She is also willing to give a lecture. Her company was called “Helping you Hear”  HuH?

Dinner at the table was fine as usual, and the entertainment was a special treat.  Chris Pendleton turned out to be a she, funny as hell and a good fiddler to boot.  I took a picture of my wine because I liked it so well.  A French name on a new world region famous for a grape, can yield a marvelous wine.  Old world know how and terroir.  Good formula.

Thursday, January 12, 2023, the third of eight sea days.  Right after my Essentrics workout, I got to work on Sandra Hobson’s birthday party.  Everything onboard is both easy and complicated.  Sandra just has to talk to the Neptune Concierge and glasses and hors d’oeuvres will appear magically on the designated day at the appointed hour.  I had to craft invitations for her to pass out and we would have to keep track of cabin numbers to tell the Dining Room manager, for the after party dinner.  I made up a spreadsheet and started populating it. 

The Sydney Opera House project is not getting any easier.  There is quite a lot of interest and the Internet is starting to fail.  Bob Todd and I spent almost an hour getting him seat G24, only to fail when the site insisted sending him a code by text, which, of course, he wasn’t receiving.  We all have our phones on airplane mode to avoid huge onboard roaming charges.  I’ll have to gather everyone’s particulars, email and snail mail addresses, birthdays, the works and call it all in when we arrive Nuku Hiva.

I got some tipping envelopes and filled them with cocktail party tips, had tea with Bobi  and printed and delivered Newsletter #2.   Then I went to Happy Hour for more party planning, dinner and a pretty terrible show from Rebecca West called “How to be a Headliner”.  It was everything you hate about these shows, the formula of it.  I was bored to tears or maybe sleep.

Friday, January 13, 2023, day 4 of 8.  Another busy office hour, with one lady

patiently waiting, until all my people were seen, to come and inquire as to why not she, and her partner, weren’t in the group.  She had been before and hadn’t changed travel agencies.  I agreed and did something about it.

We all got dressed up for formal night, me in my best formal wear that hasn’t fit for about five years, and ate surf and turf and drank free wine, courtesy of the captain.  Our table host was Maria, the Hotel Manager’s Executive Assistant.  She was lovely.  There was dance music everywhere on Deck 2, but not much dancing as there wasn’t all that much room to dance with all of us milling about. 

Saturday, January 14, 2023, day 5 of 8, I did a bunch more work with the Shore Excursions Manager and saw a bunch more people.  Our litigious society has spread around the world now.  Some drivers and guides are forbidden to lift the devices into their vehicles, so the handicapped people need a caregiver of their own to do it.  All of them are within their rights to refuse.  Even the ADA rules do not require a service or venue to have personnel to provide assistance like lifting wheelchairs and scooters.  Facilities, yes, lifting, no. 

Sandra Hobson’s birthday party in their Neptune Suite was fun.  The Neptune concierge did them proud with the hors d’oeuvres and about half of us repaired to the dining room for a jovial birthday dinner topped off with Panjang Amurnia.  Certa mulia.   Pianist Elliot Finkel was on the main stage and this show was better than his first.  He’s very good.

Sunday, January 15, 2023, was our 6^th day at sea and with execrable Internet, which was the only bad part of it, really.  I did a little research on Dim Sum at Zilver in Sydney and Paddy’s market and that looks very doable.  Same thing on the Occidental Bar in Auckland.  I also talked to Tina in the Pinnacle and we can have 10 to 26 in Section 1.  The date will be Feb 6.

Dan and Sandra were at Happy Hour again, joined by Keith Bean & Cher Arceneaux.  Cher had a tip for me that Titada was a good massage therapist.  So, on my way to dinner, I stopped by the Spa and asked that she do the massage I had planned for tomorrow.  That settled, I toddled off to dinner, where Elliot Finkel was our dinner guest.  He’s a lot of fun as well as a very accomplished pianist.  In his seventies now, he still practices four hours a day.  On the ship, those turn out to be 4 am to 8 am.  At home in New York City, he and his wife have seven cockatiels and four finches.  The cockatiels have bowls set at the dining room table, with whatever Elliot cooks for them that day, quinoa, pasta, whatever.  Each has his own way he (or she) likes it.  This explains why his wife rarely joins him on board.  Who would take care of them?

There was a production show after dinner.  What a great night.

Our first day, Wednesday, January 4, was a sea day, and I had plenty to do.  One of my tasks as a DV Host is to make sure everyone on my manifest got their welcome packet and to see if they have any questions about our offering.  I got most of those calls done between my 4:00 pm breakfast and my 8:00 pm dinner, on embarkation day.  They were routine and pleasant, or I left messages.  Everyone had the packet, which taught me that the sooner you call, after delivering, the less likely they are to have lost it, or maybe World Cruise passengers are just more savvy.

One of my passengers was having a terrible time settling in.  She has both a power chair and a walker and it wasn’t working in her little cabin.  Life was very tough.  She had been DV Host for years and has done 13 cruises with Holland America.  She’s a 5* Mariner and was hoping for better treatment.  I couldn’t do anything for her as she knows the ropes as well as I do and had already contacted the powers that be.

Another passenger told me he couldn’t speak English and hung up on me.  I’ll have to see if I can find an interpreter when I find out what kind of Chinese he speaks.  It’s not Cantonese, for sure. 

A single man  turned out to be my proofreader.  He noticed that the Jan 6 cocktail wasn’t in the Amenities notification.  I was blindsided by the fact that I actually have six(6) cocktail parties to offer my people, and had missed that one on the list.  My first newsletter was destined to come out the very next day.

People told me their nicknames and if they went by their middle names and stuff like that.   All good. I updated the manifest before I went to my 11:00 am Office Hour appointment near the Front Desk. 

There were a couple of people who knew people who should have got a Welcome packet and didn’t.  No surprise.  There usually are. One couple, whom I have had the pleasure of hosting on a world cruise before came to say I was the best DV host they had ever had.  I hope they hold that thought until it’s time for the comment cards. 

Some came to volunteer to do deliveries for me, if I needed help.  Very sweet of them, but so far, so good.  Some came to say they were delighted with the program and wanted to know how to pick a cruise that’s a DV for the future.  I was happy to help.

As soon an I was able to get away, I hastily worked up a newsletter to correct the omission of the January 6 Cocktail party and add whatever else I did know.  I delivered my newsletters during the ship’s Block Parties, which was interesting.  I kept getting offered food and drink but both my hands were occupied holding the newsletters or putting them in the doors.  When they offer a three-handed version of homo sapiens, I’ll be signing up.

Five people came to Happy Hour, and they were all very nice.  Then I had very good lamb chops for dinner at “the table” and we all went to see the Lincoln Center Stage – our classical quintet, playing rock, pop and jazz on the Main Stage.  It was good and I was ready for bed, after that busy day.

I didn’t know it then, but my good friend, Denis Mavrias, (Chef Dr Pizza Guy) died on January 4.  In a strange turn of fate, I was unable to make it to my own family for Christmas, because of terrible weather, and a tree falling on the train tracks, so I spent Christmas Day with Denis’ family.  Most of you will die laughing when I tell you they’re Vegans, but I was glad to have had that time with him.   He was a good, kind man, and we had some great times together over the last couple of years.

We docked in Falmouth, Jamaica, on Thursday, January 5.  I went walkabout with Dee and Lyann, but not before I took care of important business.  I am still sorting out discrepancies between my manifest from Distinctive Voyages and Michelle’s from Holland America. 

Around 11:00 am, Dee, Lynann and I got off to go shopping in Falmouth, Jamaica.  We dubbed ourselves three Lame Old Ladies, and went off to find a taxi.

We rejected the first one that was presented and took the second.  He had a lot better attitude and took very good care of us, his charges.  We were very pleased with Delano Crooks, despite his somewhat suspect name.  He took us to a local shopping center, where we wouldn’t get robbed and that was good for basics.  Soon we were out of time and back in the tourist shopping compound by the ship.  Prices were high there and so was my sales resistance.  I did enjoy my late afternoon breakfast, though.  It was a beef and cheese patty with scotch bonnet sauce, and a beer.  Just right. 

Sail away was delayed and delayed again and I pretty much missed it.  Won’t do that again.  I had dinner at the table and we all went to see the comedian, Steven Scott, who was hilarious.  We met him after, and Dee presented him with an invitation to dine with us.  He had one night free, January 8.  We took it.  His schedule is a lot more crammed than ours. 

Back at sea on  January 6, I printed a birthday card along with my cocktail party speech and two new shore excursion flyers, which I now have. In the Atrium for office hour, I met more nice people.  I had tee’d up a dinner for 16 in the dining room for after tonight’s welcome cocktail, and it’s already booked up.  Nice.  I’ll do it sooner in the future and get more participation.

I took my cocktail party speech to tea around 3:15 and it worked very well as breakfast for me.  The cocktail party came of without a hitch.  63 of 80 people came.   I had recruited Dee Wescott, one of the best photographers I knew to take pictures and she did a great job.  Arthur and Linda Starr came too, so I could introduce them as our bus monitors.  I just can’t be in two buses at once and the Rabbi and his wife are a popular choice. 

The Sydney Opera idea floated well, so I’ll be doing that for sure.  After my speech, I usually invite everyone to say a bit about themselves, but this group was just too big.  We had three tables for dinner in the Dining room and I got to eat a course at each of them.  It’s a great way to get to know the guests and we were done in plenty of time to make the show, which was “Dance Fever”.  It’s nice that we still have singers and dancers on board, albeit a couple less of each. 

I finished the latest Louise Penny novel on my Kindle and, while I was exiting, it presented a critical error and threatened to never work again unless restarted, rebooted, or put in communication with Amazon support. 

On Saturday, January 7, we were docked in Puerto Limon, Costa Rica. The first thing I did was deal with the kindle.  I wanted to be in port if I really did have to access Amazon support.  Like everybody else’s, it isn’t much these days and I dreaded the thought.  Luckily the simple restart fixed the problem, and I will travel the world with all of my Kindle content, which is substantial. 

A good few emails flew around, as the manifests got sorted out, until they now match and in spite of that, I did get a couple of hours in Puerto Limon with Nona Hamilton and Beryl Mitton, my 2012 tablemates.  We just had a walk in the park, a beer, and shopped the dockside market.  I got a white embroidered blouse, a pair of colorful pants, and a sloth.  The sloth is a stuffed toy, so I don’t have to sleep alone.  He’ll go to Ginger’s Toy Tea next December, having been around the world.  I’m not hard on my sloths.

Sail Away was nice.  I spent it with three of my people.  We had one of the lecturers, Mike West, and his wife for dinner at the table.  Then we went to see Steven Scott again, doing old Catskills schtick.  We won’t get him for dinner tomorrow, as the ship has fingered him to do a funny interview in the Ocean Bar, with Cruise Director, Ian at 9 pm, and performers don’t eat before they perform. 

Cruising the Panama Canal on Sunday, January 8, I found Bobi in her power chair in trouble again.  She had just settled into her re-designed room, when she was hit by another plague.  Now her power chair wouldn’t charge and her Oxygen machine went that a notch farther, when its charger actually drained its battery.  While she was telling me all this, Henk, the Hotel Manager, innocently stopped to say “Hi” to both of us.  I’ll bet he was sorry when, like Shiv before him, he ended up spending most of the day in Bobi’s room, calling on assorted experts as needed. 

Through all of this, Bobi has maintained a very decent amount of good humour.  She went from being a DV host to the wheelchair in a surgical accident, meaning back surgery gone south.  I am going to just keep exercising my little heart out and do my damnedest to stay off the operating table.  So far, so good.  And the folks kept coming by for the usual conversations.

We are going through the Panama Canal today and it’s pouring rain for a lot of the time.  It’s still interesting but I don’t have a lot of time to pay attention, yet.  I had a cruise to help book with the Future Cruise Consultant,  and some advice to give on insurance.  One of my people fell in his cabin on day one and it aggravated an old back injury he got in the service.  Dr. Kim’s acupuncture is helping but it’s pretty expensive.  He was wondering if his insurance, Holland America’s platinum, would cover it.  I am pretty good with insurance claims so I told him to go back and get a doctor’s letter to submit with the claim, and that if Holland America wouldn’t help him with the claim, I would. 

We all decided to go for an earlier dinner so as to be able to catch Steven Scott’s interview with Ian, as Steven had agreed to meet us for drinks privately after.  The ship was having a “Burgers and Beer” thing on the Lido, by the pool, that looked like it would work.  I went with Nona and Lynann.  The burgers were sliders, one beef and cheese with bacon, one chicken and avocado and one vegetarian.  Nona and I had them bring us two beef and cheese, no vegetarian.  And we ordered three Laguanitas or whatever the name is, supposed to be good.

Well, when it came, everything was cold, there was no bacon or avocado to be seen anywhere, both burger and bun were dry and they brought the wrong kind of beer.  You had to be there.  The ship sends supervisors around to every table to ask if you are liking the food and service.  When our guy came over and asked “How’s everything here?” all three of us pounced in him at once “Terrible” was our verdict, in one voice.  You shouldn’t ask when you don’t want the answer.

Steven the comedian’s interview with Ian was fun but we never got our private time.  Holland America were picking him up at 5:30 am to catch his plane in Panama and he had to go pack.

On Monday, January 9, we were in Fuerte Amador, Panama, having stayed overnight. If you didn’t take a shore excursion, there was nothing but two shuttles.  You couldn’t walk in the port.  There was a lot of construction going on.  Our first shuttle went to Isla Perico, where everything was closed, but Vicki and Peggy saw a HOHO from there, found a way to take it , and that was good.  Nona and I didn’t see that so we decided not to get off the bus at all.  We rode back to the ship, switched buses and went to the mall. 

I forgot the name of the mall, but it was a plenty glitzy one, with Chanel and Gucci and Louis Vuitton and all, just like home.  I live within five minutes’ walk of all this stuff.  Luckily, it also had ordinary stores, too, like H & M and the shop where I bought a couple of plain dresses for wearing like blouses.  This is how I supplement my wardrobe, without having multiple suitcases.  At the end I’ll just toss whatever I no longer want, whether I brought it with me and it wore out, or I bought it and don’t like it all that much, after all.  I had brought a dying bra with me, and it had had the nerve to get to extremis on day 2 of the cruise.  I repaired it but it will go again, soon.  I replaced it at this very American mall, for the very American price of $52.99.  Some things aren’t optional.

I got back to the ship and spent an hour or so working on pictures.  The weather had worsened considerably and there was heavy rain and thunder.  Some of it loud enough to be scary, but I just worked on.  At one point, we had an announcement that the ship had been struck by lightning but that it was nothing to worry about.  When it was time to go looking for something to eat, I decided on French Fries from Dive-In, poolside.  It turned out that was where the lightning had hit.  Tim told me he was in the hot tub at the time and that was an experience and a half.  He was probably 10 feet away from the point of contact.  The plexiglass roof took the blow.  I got this picture:

I did go to sail-away after that, where the hors d’oeuvres completed my breakfast, and spent some time with Peggy.  We didn’t sail away when we were supposed to.  The Volendam did, though, and it was fun waving at her.  The weather got nasty again, and I headed back to the room to work until dinner time. 

The entertainment was a movie on the big screen of the Main Stage, “Panama”, 1989.  It wasn’t very good.  I kept falling asleep. 

New Year’s Day -Sunday, January 1 2023  on the plane to Fort Lauderdale

The first installment of a ‘round the world diary always seems to begin with a bitch and moan about all the terrible stuff that happened in the last week before I left, and this one is no exception.  It’s also the saddest.

There is always a lot going on with me leaving for over four months, and on the first day of the year.  There’s all the client work that I try to get done before I leave, and I usually get through almost all of it.  Luckily, modern communications are now such that I can finish from the middle of the ocean.   It’s just a bit of a slower slog. 

But I did not need my Royal Bank Credit card, which had been faithful for 25 years, to get compromised on December 26.  The bank caught it on the 28^th and texted me a sample transaction to see if I recognized it.  When I did not, they texted that they would be phoning me.  About twenty minutes later the call came in, and put me on hold for another twenty minutes, which did nothing to improve my good humour. 

Since Quebec passed Bill 96, which goes after English rights here, big time, I have ceased to speak French on every call, and had pressed “1” for English.  Eventually the call was answered by a guy, with a thick accent, who I thought said his name was “Julio”.  He wanted to know how he could help me.  “You called me, I said, how can I help you?, Julio?”  At this point he got upset with me and told me his name was “Leo” and he wasn’t “some immigrant”.  That’s when I switched to French, figuring I had a real “numero” and nothing was going to get done, if I didn’t get really nice.  So I did, and we went through a pile of transactions, a goodly number of which were fraudulent, so I was getting a new credit card.  This was why I had to be so sweet, I needed it in two days, because I was leaving for four-and-a-half months.  God bless Leo, but that, and all the notifications I am having to effect, were about the last thing I needed. 

The absolute last thing I needed was the phone call I got at 9:00 am the next morning, from my cousin in Cornwall, where I hadn’t been able to spend Christmas thanks to a tree falling on a train on the Montreal-Toronto line.  My favorite cousin, Rosemary O’Connor Sidorchuk, was dying, sometime soon, and certainly before I would be back.  I knew what I had to do.  I rearranged my life some more, sent apologies instead of deliverables, and looked for a car to get me there.  Communauto delivered the minute I asked.  Their fleet of “Flex” cars is pretty big now and there was one sitting at the end of my lane.  The slush in it hadn’t even melted when I picked it up.  The universe is taking care of me.  My very nice friend, Gaetan Villlemure, came along to take care of me, as I don’t feature doing 90 miles of highway in the dark.  I did get to say “Goodbye” to Rosemary, so closure.  Not much fun.  I will miss her. It was cancer.  She was 88.

That same day I got a letter from the IRS to say they had received my 2021 tax form 1040, the second time it was sent in.  My accountant swears you have to file by mail when filing from out of country, so that’s what he did. My return got lost with 129,999 other ones and was re-filed in October.  So this letter said that now they have it and just want me to verify my identity, so they can process my 2021 tax return.  I called from the car and they answered in a timely fashion, but their computers were down, so they wanted me to call back on October 3, which would be boarding day.  How convenient.  Together and separately, my accountant and I tried to fix it so he could do it, but I did end up doing it on January 3.  They have now agreed to process my return.  Nice way for them to have kept my $8,500 for a couple of years.

I did manage to go to a little New Year’s Eve party with Rose and Patrick and a few of their friends and, on New Year’s Day, I was off to Fort Lauderdale, arriving at the Renaissance Hotel in time for a late bar dinner and bed.

Monday, January 2, I found my friends, Linda and Bob Eckert, in the condo next door and they brought over all that which Amazon and Distinctive Voyages had been delivering to their place.  Nice to have friends. I worked in the room all day, making up about 50 welcome packets for delivery the next day.  Then I took Bob and Linda out to a Thai restaurant that they like and we had a delightful meal and a lot of laughs.  We have been cruise buddies since 2015 and have seen each other a few times in between.  Great people.

The next day, Tuesday, January 3, Bob and Linda arrived at 11:00 am to drive me to the ship.  It took all of five minutes.  Talk about a great place to live.  Embarkation hasn’t gotten any easier on Holland America at Port Everglades.  I was in line for an hour and three quarters.  I could have got into the five star line but it was also the handicapped line and took just as long. 

Once aboard, things started to go more smoothly.  I met with Michelle, the Group Event Coordinator, as usual.  And, as usual, our manifests didn’t match.  I had 87 pax on mine.  She had 53. She told me to go ahead with mine and made the inevitable room changes

I wanted a desk of my own but they don’t have enough desks, with so many groups on board.  So nobody gets one.  I met Tom Mullen of Cruise Specialists, with whom I have sailed many, many times, and Louisa from Signature.  I don’t know the others.

It was time for my 4:00 pm breakfast.  I have lost 20 pounds on intermittent fasting.  It works for me but am I ever hungry when it gets close to four.  I went up to the Lido which was closed until 5:00 pm and I almost cried.  Intan, one of the more senior restaurant staff, read my distress and said she’d be able to get me something from behind the screens.  I peeked and saw a baked potato that would do.  It turns out it was just the display item, so it was cold, but it was good enough for me at that point.  I am eternally in her debt.  The dessert station was open by the time I ate the potato, so I had a Brazo de Merdedes to top it off.  It was yummy, meringue, custard and raspberry. I met Beryl and Nona up there, too.  They were my tablemates on the 2012 world and I had just sailed with Nona on Montreal-Fort Lauderdale in October. It’s old home week on here. I got my Welcome packets delivered and made it to dinner with Wells and Dee Wescott, Lynann Barnes and Jean and Ross Copas.  This is my regular table but there will be a lot of eating around for all of us.  Then I went back to my cabin and unpacked.  You have to, if you want to sleep on the bed, which I sure did by then. Dee took this nice one at sail-away from Fort Lauderdale.

Christmas Letter – 2022

It’s Christmas Eve.  I meant to be writing this on the train on the way to Cornwall, where my family is.  I had reserved a rental car, as usual, but had second thoughts.  It costs over $700 CAD to rent a car for three days, if those three days include a holiday.  I paid it for Labour Day, but I really do not like supporting highway robbery.  So, three weeks ago, I booked train tickets and one week ago, I cancelled the car.  With the massive, continent wide storm this week, I was feeling pretty smug this morning.

I can, and did, walk to Central Station underground.  It takes longer than I thought so I had to hoof it to get to the station with 10 minutes to spare.  I need not have rushed.  My train, and every other train going west to Toronto, was cancelled.  The line to reschedule or refund snaked halfway around the perimeter of the station.  While I was in line, I put in a call to VIA Rail and, after an hour or so, it answered.  Lo and behold, I am rebooked out of here tomorrow morning at 8:50am and writing to you from my adjustable bed, with my feet up. 

It could have been a lot worse.  A tree had fallen on the track and had actually hit an engine.  The poor people on that train got to freeze for hours until they were rescued.  I would not have liked that.

December in Montreal has been a lot of fun and all the winter I have to bear.  The fun started on December when I finally had my housewarming party, two years late and still under the shadow of COVID.  Two couples cancelled because of it and I lost five more people to fear of COVID.  In the end 30 people came and it wasn’t crowded at all.  My caterers were fabulous, and their delicious Cocktail dinatoire left no one hungry.  My entertainer, Maxence Lapierre, did me proud, too.  He played all the old party songs from the sixties and seventies and even had us old farts up dancing.  Old Napa habits die hard and I had bought six cases of wine, which proved to be excessive, but there is a lot less Mumm Napa left than Bourgogne blanc or pinot noir. 

My friend Ginger’s Toy Tea, started in her home 31 years ago, was able to return in person this year and was held at an armory, since Ginger is in the army now.  There were more children’s choirs than you could shake a wreath at.  Here’s one.  Note the beautiful diversity in our city now. 

And there were meals at Bonaparte and plays at Centaur, Bach’s mass in B minor at Place des Arts and a lovely evening at the Canadian Grenadier Guards party, courtesy of Honorary Lieutenant Colonel Ginger Petty.  I didn’t get a picture of me with Ginger in her splendid uniform but there were two actual guards at the door and I do have this:

It was one of those very special winter nights, too, where our weather is on display.  I took this one walking to Ginger’s house for the pre-party party. 

It could be a Christmas card, that. 

Because I am running for daylight to get out of town on January 1, my Christmas décor isn’t much this year but I did bring out Fran Neilsen’s St Nicholas cat.

I just love him and I love all of you, too.  So a very

To one all with love and purrs, from Helen and Robbie

And I am off on the Zuiderdam for 4 ½ months, leaving January 1 and sailing January 3.  Back May 12.

Email will always work and I can WhatsApp you by appointment.  

In an emergency you can phone the ship directly at 1-800-993-5483 or +1-321-837-6106 from outside the USA.

Doing Alaska right – July 25, 2023 – with me

Life can sure get interesting.  I wasn’t planning on doing another Alaska cruise, until some Montreal friends had it on their bucket list for this coming summer.  They wanted to do it properly.  Princess joined the Distinctive Voyages program last year with their Alaska Cruise Tours.  So, I had a look at those and they looked awfully good.  The clients thought so, too, and they are the kind who do their homework.  So, the three of us booked, with me as the DV Concierge Host.  I am going to get to stay at the great old lodges, ride the railway and visit the sled dogs.  I am also going to get to visit San Francisco, Napa, Sonoma and Vancouver again, where I have a lot of friends and I haven’t been out west since I left in late ’19. 

Then came Fiona, hurricane Fiona, that is.  We were worried that she might mess with our East Coast cruise last October, but she was done before we got started.  She was done with my Alaskan cruise buddies’ cottage on Prince Edward Island, too.  She blew the roof right off of it and that’s not the sort of thing designed to improve the décor of the living space.  It was a write off. 

Time passed and insurance companies adjusted, and, by some miracle, they will be rebuilding, this coming summer, living on site in a trailer.  What an adventure.  But I lost my cruise buddies. 

I am still committed to my DV assignment, and my California and BC friends, and so, I’m still going.  I will be in Napa and Santa Rosa for most of July until the Cruise Tour starts on July 25.  That’s when I’ll want you to join me.  The Cruise Tour is a Travel Leaders/Distinctive Voyages exclusive.  Here’s how it’s going to go:

On July 25, we fly to Anchorage and stay at the Captain Cook Hotel, in the heart of beautiful downtown Anchorage.  Their web site says every single room has a stunning view of either Cook Inlet or Cugach Mountains.  And it looks like about the best hotel there is there on TripAdvisor. 

The next day, July 26, we get a scenic bus ride along the George Parks Highway to The Mt McKinley Princess Wildernes Lodge.  Princess was the first cruise line into Alaska and set up right away.  They are still best in Alaska.  We’ll have time to walk some of the many trails around the Lodge or just relax and take in the views from the Great Room.  After lunch, there are tours to take if you are so inclined.

On the 27^th , we travel by motorcoach to the Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge, where we will stay for two nights, the 27^th and 28^th.  There are places to walk and tours to be booked but there are free tours, too, compliments of Travel Leaders (well, somehow included like the good meals) They include:  The Husky Homestead Tour, to which I am really looking forward:  “Experience the call of the wild and visit Iditarod champion Jeff King . Visit his homestead, dogs and his cuddly puppies . Learn what goes into creating a winning team. 

In the afternoon we have a Tundra Wilderness Tour which will guide us along the spectacular road corridor to mile 43, promising a wonderful experience, as Denali’s wildlife moves at its own pace and according to the seasons.

Travel to the Murie Cabin near the East Fork River to experience where Adolf Murie lived while conducting his famous research inside what was then known as Mount McKinley National Park! This tour is approximately 5 hours in duration and includes a bottled water and snack.  You can tell the parts I didn’t write myself, can’t you?

On the 29^th we go by rail to Whittier approximately 9 1/4 hours (295 miles) with the train scheduled to depart Denali National Park at 8:15 a.m. and arrive in Whittier at 6:00 p.m.

And we board, and the ship sails, and here’s where she goes, while we enjoy her luxurious amenities:

Sat,07/29/23	Anchorage (whittier), Alaska	–8:30pm
Sun,07/30/23	Hubbard Glacier (scenic Cruising), AlaskaScenic Cruising	3:00pm–8:00pm
Mon,07/31/23	Glacier Bay National Park (scenic Cruising), AlaskaScenic Cruising	9:15am–7:30pm
Tue,08/01/23	Icy Strait Point, Alaska	6:00am–7:00pm
Wed,08/02/23	Juneau, Alaska	6:30am–5:00pm
Thu,08/03/23	Ketchikan, Alaska	10:00am–6:00pm
Fri,08/04/23	At Sea
Sat,08/05/23	Vancouver, Canada	6:30am
Sat,08/05/23	Vancouver, British Columbia, Canada

And I get off and re-connect with my Vancouver contingent.  I trust you are ready.

I’ll be happy to get you a quote and happier still if you decide to come with me.  What a hoot we will have.  The freebees that come with the DV package, for which yours truly is the host, include beverages, gratuities, and WiFi.  I’ll be having a cocktail party, too. If Travel Leaders doesn’t pay for it, I will, for my own clients, for sure.

The Black Friday, Cyber Monday stuff continues until November 30.  And then there’ll be another sale.  Happy to get you a quote anytime.

Acknowledgments: Photos courtesy of Dave Lasker, my friend who raises puppies for Canine Companions.  Here he is with one of Jeff King’s.  One of my travelers, Joan Westgate, knows Jeff from before he ever went to Alaska.  Small world.  Wrecked cottage photo is the cottage in question – Thanks to Sheila Mason and Bob Martin for contributing it and getting this snowball rolling.  We will travel together again.