Happy Easter from Agadir – Morocco – Instead of Easter bunnies, I have something quite different. The story continues …
On Wednesday, April 2, still in Manaus, we were going on a “Pink Dolphin Encounter”. Unlike pink elephants, which are a figment of your imagination when you have had too much to drink, pink dolphins are real. I spent my time photographing one of my favorite marine photographers, Dee, while she found just the right angles:
The next day, we docked in Parintins, home of the Boi Bumba Festival. These are the people with the blue Coke cans, remember? They have figured out how to turn their town’s obsession into money. It helps pay for the costumes, staging, and all. I signed up for the show but got all screwed up in the time changes and arrived way early, two full hours early.
I spent the first one touring the town in a tuk tuk.
Note the politically correct shirt the Tuk Tuk driver wears. He’ll take a red fare or a blue fare. Makes no difference. Parintins isn’t a city. It’s just a town. It has a church, which my driver assumed I would want to visit:
A waterfront:
Traffic and shops:
But, what’s important here is the Boi Bumba Festival, the costumes, the dancing, the floats. The festival celebrates the Bumba Meu Boi, a legend about a resurrected ox. It is also a competition where two groups that perform this play, the Boi Garantido (red) and Boi Caprichoso (blue), compete in extended retellings of the story, each team attempting to outdo the other with flamboyant dances, singing, and parade floats.
There are installations all over town creating this kind of thing:
This would be the red side garantido.
Here’s some blue side work:
All of which is very cool, but I never did get a blue Coke. When I got made to the Pier, very near the show venue, I was still an hour early. I had made a bigger mistake than I thought I had. Luckily I met up with another passenger, Bev Moon, from Tennessee, who had managed to do the same. With another hour to kill, we went out in search of an ice cream cone, or a beer, whichever we found first. It was the beer. The bar was interesting. At the same counter as the libations, you could also buy snacks, cigarettes, razors, menstrual period supplies,
On the opposite wall, were the groceries, and, if that wasn’t complete enough, that wall was just a divider. There was a bank and a notary on the other side of it. Here we sit, bellied up to the bar:
We thoroughly enjoyed that little interlude and it put us in the right mood for the Boi Bumba show.
It was a hard act to follow, but our comedian, Martin Beaumont, did a creditable job that night. We have had him to dinner a couple of times since and he’s a lot of fun.
On April 4, we were at Alter do Chao and I decided to give it a miss and catch up a little. If that had been more successful, I might not be writing about April 4 on the 18th, but now I really am catching up. Maybe. Alter do Chao looked like another Boca de Valeria only less lively, if that was possible. The ship obviously didn’t think much of it, as we pulled in at 8:0am and out again at 1:30pm. They even scheduled a dressy night, which they pretty much never do on port days. They put the Repertory company on stage too, and that’s always good.
On the 5th we were back at sea, and crossing the equator yet again. We were sailing away from Brazil after a whopping 18 days. I don’t know if I have ever been on a cruise ship that spent that kind of time in one country. Oy! Brazil
At long last on Sunday, March 30, we docked in Santarem, our first Port on the Amazon. The city of Santarem is actually on the Tapajós river. The meeting of the rivers is a big deal. The muddy Amazon meets the clean Tapajós and you can see the demarcation for miles. Here it is:
We were on that small boat, bound for a piranha fishing trip. It was about a 45 minute ride up the Tapajós river and our guide filled it with all sorts of interesting facts. We were well into the rainy season but not yet at high water. So the farmers would still be home here. This is what a farm looks like as we approach it:
As we got closer, we could see the animals. This farmer had water buffalo, pigs, goats, chickens and all. Here are the goats:
Since we are not at high water yet, it seems to be time to be getting worried. The farmer is prepared:
He’ll just load his livestock on to this boat, with his family, and enough food to last and they’ll ride it out. If he is rich enough to pay for grazing on higher ground, that’s good, if not, they’ll float it out, maybe a couple-three months. Methinks I’d rather be on the Volendam, where a nice dinner and violinist Susana awaited.
But we were on a fishing trip, so we had to fish for an hour or so, first. We each had a baited hook and a line, but no pole, nor reel. I was lousy at it. The fish ate my bait five times before I could get it out of the water. There was a prize for the biggest piranha and this one won:
Tanner won the prize for the biggest fish overall, with this impressive catfish:
You get the idea.
The next day’s port, Boca de Valeria, was a sight more primitive, but not so primitive that they hadn’t figured out the value of the tourist dollar. The cruise lines had got together and funded a very basic dock for tenders.
You had to walk through a bit of water to get to shore, even so. But it worked. The village swole to about five times its normal size when there was a ship. The welcoming committee consisted of the children of this and neighboring villages, with their pets, wanting a dollar for a photo op. But we weren’t going there just yet. The local fishermen had their own business taking us out two by two in their motorized longboats. I hooked up with Lisa Moser, who was on my tender and whom I knew a bit from the Queen Mary 2 last year.
We left the village behind and meandered up and down the tributaries to the suburbs:
And among the giant lily pads:
To a bigger village with a church and school:
Back past a country house:
To the dock at Boca de Valeria. You can see the Volendam in the middle of the river as we approach.
It was time to pet the animals, click the shutters and pay the children, and so we did.
There was obviously some rivalry:
And this guy was my favorite:
But you have to give this girl and her turtle their due:
I was surprised there weren’t more people patronizing the bar. It was up on stilts, a little up from the water and with a great view and a breeze. Lisa and I had a thoroughly enjoyable local beer:
And were happy to get back to the Volendam, a good dinner and Luca Lattanzio on the stage again. He was just as good the second time.
On the first of April, we docked in Manaus for an overnight. I got off late morning and walked to the market, which was supposed to be good. On the way, I met one of Robbie’s relatives:
I met a nice lady from Montreal, so we did the Market together. It wasn’t much. She continued on to the Cathedral and I went back to the ship but via the back streets which looked interesting. There were a lot of shops for locals, and tables on the sidewalk, selling anything you might need. I bought three pairs of socks for $5. They are cute, too. Then I has another pastel de carne lunch, in the park, with the locals, at this spot:
Cheap, delicious, plenty of local atmosphere.
Since we were overnighting in Manaus, the Wescotts, David and Wendy Clarke, from Montreal, and yours truly, went out to dinner. We took one taxi and one Uber to Gaucho’s Churrascaria, a Brazilian BBQ place, or what Dee’s grandkids call “steak on a stick”. I found their web site and browsed through their 34 pictures and the one they didn’t have the one that tells it all. So, here’s mine:
That drink you see with all the limes in it is Brazin’s national cocktail, the “caipirinha” and it’s delicious. Quite strong. We only had one each. The Uber had come in about three times the price of the taxi, and the taxi driver had given me his phone no. I WhatsApp’d him and we got two taxis for the way home. You never know what’s going to work best. Every city is different, but this is fact in Manaus in 2025.
Our Cruise and Travel Director’s web site is still not delivering, but I heard that his talk on the Selaron Steps, in Rio, is on YouTube, too, so I googled around and sure enough: The Selaron Steps in Rio de Janeiro is there for your viewing pleasure. There are other videos there, too, but I like the simplicity of the web site – if it ever works again. Meanwhile, enjoy the YouTube.
Daniel posts his talks at www.danieledwarduk.com but at the moment, the web site is broken and not delivering. He promised me he’d look into it but a Cruise and Travel Director doesn’t get a lot of free time, so bear with him.
Back to my own blog. I left you in Brail on March 23, and we had a lot more Brazil to go. We were privileged to have aboard, a group of educators, animators, singers and dancers called OiBrasil. They gave lectures, taught crafts, dancing, musical instruments, cooking, just about everything about a culture you can think of… They even put on a couple of Carnaval type shows. I missed one of those in Rio, but caught a few lectures and the second show. They were great to have around for a couple of weeks. HAL billed them as Cultural Ambassadors, and they sure were. You can get a little taste at: Bing Videos and if you want to hire them, go to www.oibrasilshows.com
On March 23rd, we docked in Maceio, a biggish seaport, where the market had taken over an old stadium. There was a free shuttle to it. I indulged myself with a new hanging purse that won’t work after all, and will likely be abandoned because it won’t fit in my carry on, a new top that might be able to replace a worn one I will abandon, a pair of sandals, which are pretty flat, a pastel de carne and a coke.
This thing is really good. It has both meat and cheese in it and comes to you piping hot from the deep fryer. The coke came with a glass of ice, which I should have thrown away, but didn’t. I survived but it’s a good thing there is no shortage of restroom facilities on a ship. Dee and I could compare footwear at the table and the Repertory company was on stage. It was a good day.
On the 24th we were in Recife, where the Girards and I took a Catamaran cruise called “Venice of Brazil”. We had hoped to be going into the three rivers that meet here but it was a silly big catamaran , a flat tour boat that just poked around in the hot sun and all the pictures were full of tourist debris. So I don’t have much to show for it. See what I mean:
The next day, the 25th, Bosco of OiBrasil filled us in with a little history and explained Brazil’s ties to medieval Europe. He dove deeply into the climate, soils, and early settlers. Now I don’t totally understand this but it seems, the discovery of America coincides with the last years of the Reconquista. That was the 900 years war that drove the Moors and Jews out of Europe. A lot of the Spanish and Portuguese Jews came to Brazil. The Dutch conquered the place and all of that was fine because they didn’t try to convert the Jews but when the Christians won in Europe, they come to the colonies to drive the Dutch and Jews out. So that lot left Brazil, moved north and founded, you guessed it, New York. You can see it in the architecture of Recife, our next stop. But in the countryside, along the Amazon and into the jungle, the culture of the poor doesn’t change much. They don’t travel and they barely have schooling. They dress in leather and ride mules. It’s a thorny place and it’s still medieval and old stories get passed down. Bosco told us of a prize bull, who was killed for his tongue to satisfy a pregnant lady, whose husband was a little over zealous. But not to worry, the bull got resurrected and everyone lived happily ever after, only they react the whole sorry mess every year in Parintins, and we’ll be going there. More to come.
Richard Watson, another OiBrasil speaker, taught us more about the culture along the river, how they farm, catch fish, gather fruit, and move every year when the water gets too high. We learned about the different soils, table mountains, waterfalls and a lot of other geography that amazed, amused and confused us. It left us with a healthy respect for this mighty river and we hadn’t even got there yet. Eli Moore, the Piano Bar entertainer, was on the World Stage.
The 26th, we were in Fortaleza. Another town, another market, another top that I hope I can get home. My carry on will be bursting at the seams.
The entertainment that night was spectacular, and that, I don’t have to pack. OiBrasil were on stage with their Carnaval themed show and it was marvelous. If you didn’t take the link up there in the first paragraph, you might want to now.
The 27th was the first of three more sea days before we would get to the mouth of the Amazon. It’s some mouth, 200 miles wide as it opens to the sea. Daniel had a wonderful talk on the Amazon and our first two ports on it, Santarem and Boca de Valera. Discovering the Amazon River: Orellana and the legend of Naia The stories are good, but I warn you, Danial’s talks take more than a half-hour each to watch. You might just want to remember they are here, to watch when you are about to venture to the Amazon. The stories are good, and little known. In this one, you learn about the first European to venture into the Amazon on a boat and how it got its name.
That night there was a lovely Hungarian violinist on the World stage, name of Susana. She was very easy to listen to.
On the second sea day, Daniel told us all about the rise and fall of Manaus. How the city grew under the Portuguese, built fine palaces and a fabulous Opera house, only to shrink back when the British exported rubber plantations to Asia, particularly Indonesia and Malasia, from whence it was much easier to distribute than from hundreds of miles from the sea. A great disservice done to the Brazilians, a favor to Asia, and pots and pots of money for the British Rubber Barrons. Daniel tells it so much better than I: A Cruise Tourist’s Guide to Manaus, Brazil Oi Brasil had a good talk for us in the afternoon about Brazil’s geography, the river that runs under the Amazon, the reef system in the Atlantic, and the horror that is the trans Amazonian highway, fortunately not completed.
It was Wells Wescott’s birthday at our table. Panjang amurnia.
Our repertory company were on the world stage, and they are always good.
On March 29, we began cruising the Amazon river, itself. You might as well be on the ocean for all the shoreline you see, when it’s 200 miles wide at the mouth. But the color is different. It’s not the clear blue sea, it’s the muddy brown river. We are going to have to do without laundry for 5 days, because it just takes too much water. Better that than not being able to shower, because it’s hot, and we’ll really feel it when we get on shore. The ship, you see, makes fresh water from sea water for all its needs, but it can’t make clean water out of thin mud, so we’ll only have what we go in with. Our tanks are full, but there are more than a thousand of us on board, passengers and crew.
Daniel’s talk, about two of the places we would be visiting, was great, as usual. This one delved into the story of the resurrected bull that OiBrasil had told us about, and how that story spawned a festival that is so big and so divisive, that the Coca Cola company makes Coke in Blue cans, because the blue side won’t drink out of a red can in June. We could hardly wait to get there. A Cruise Tourist’s Guide to Parintins and Alter do Chao, Brazil
Richart Watson, of OiBrasil, enlightened us on how the indigenous people managed the soil for centuries, and what a terrible toll the rubber boom took on their civilization. Whole tribes were wiped out, others lost 90% of their people, many retreated farther from the river, where they remain. In the 1960s, indigenous territories started to have governmental protection, so there is some hope, but the gold rush which was still going on in the 1980s wasn’t helping. It’s a polluting process.
We celebrated Wells’ birthday again, this time in the Pinnacle, with the Captain Rens Van Eerten, who is delightful, at our table for 14. And I don’t have a picture. There’s a professional one but I never did lay my hands on it. An Italian vocalist, Luca Lattanzio, was on the World stage and we just loved him.
St. Patrick’s Day was a Sea Day and Dee insisted we all go to Daniel’s Port talk on Rio. DanielEdward is our Cruise and Travel Director and port talks are his specialty. This was the best port talk I have ever heard. Dee was especially proud of it. She put Daniel on to the material, as it had special significance for Holland America. It was all about the Seleron steps, and how their creator, the artist Jorge Selaron had made them his life’s work, and how a HAL passenger created a memorial to him, after he was murdered and was lying in a pauper’s grave. Dee knew the passenger, you see, and put Daniel in touch with her. He certainly did her proud.
The next thing you know, I was booking us a Black Tie Van to take us to see the steps, the memorial, and, of course have a good Brazilian BBQ lunch. That done, we all had dinner and enjoyed Irish soprano Emer Barry.
That green enough for you? Marilyn always told us Barry was an Irish name. ‘tis.
Next morning at the crack of ten, we met our driver, Arlindo, and were off to the Sao Joao Batista cemetery to see Selaron’s grave.
There are a bunch of Holland America tiles in this version, and in the original, as the idea caught on and a number of passengers, and even HAL itself, donated them. If you are going to Rio, you really need to watch Daniel’s talk, (See below) but here are a few of Selaron’s own words to get you thinking:
Dee bought a couple of red roses and we laid them there and went to lunch. Dee made a stop for some typically Brazilian soft drinks she likes, called Guarana. Guarana is like gingerale with just a bit of fruitiness. Try it if you are ever in Brazil. While she was making the purchase, I started to feel nauseous, which isn’t easy when you haven’t had breakfast or lunch. I sent in word that I needed some fizzy drink and out came a lime tonic. The restaurant was Marius, and it’s quite a fancy one. I didn’t see much of it except the inside of the bathroom and the patio. It was looking like I had met a norovirus or some such. I ended up taking a taxi straight back to the ship, while the others did a drive by of the real Selaron steps. They have become quite the tourist attraction, but the neighborhood is dodgy to say the least. A drive by is enough.
I went into voluntary quarantine for a couple of days, though all the action was done by 5pm. I slept like a log for about 32 hours, and had a nap the afternoon of the 19th.
By the 20th, I was myself again. We were docked in Armaceo dos Buzios and I didn’t even go ashore. We have a lot of ports in Brazil. Michelle Montuori was on stage that night. I swear the woman is everywhere you cruise. She says she’s the best in her price range. Likely true.
Back at Sea on the 21st, I still didn’t do all that much, but I did go to Daniel’s port talk on Fortaleza and Recife, which was excellent, again, as was the Oi!Brasil talk in the afternoon. This cruise is a very good education. It leaves me barely enough time to catch up with work. Emer Barry was back on stage and she was absolutely excellent.
On the 22nd we were in Salvador da Bahia, where I did get off and go to the market. I bought a bit and had a coke with Dee and Wells, watching some Brazilian Martial Arts Dancers. On the way back to the ship, I met Emer Barry, with whom we were having dinner that very night. Small world, or small port. She was a delightful dinner guest and no one was onstage, so dinner went rather long. This is a great cruise.
Daniel posts his talks at www.danieledwarduk.com but at the moment, the web site is broken and not delivering. He promised me he’d look into it, but a Cruise and Travel Director doesn’t get a lot of free time, so bear with him.
Two weeks at home is ridiculous number, I probably should have flown straight from Hong Kong to Buenos Aires. It didn’t help that I chose to fly Air Canada through SFO. I don’t know when, if ever, the last time I flew THROUGH San Francisco. I usually fly TO San Francisco and spend a week or three with my California friends. The poorly shod shoemaker had no idea that a two hour layover was not a viable option, when you factored in fetching luggage, going through customs, checking the luggage back in, and changing terminal. It’s a doable project if you order wheelchairs, because then you jump the customs line and the airline waits for you.
Do I always book wheelchairs for you, gentle clients, whether you really need them or not? Yes, I do. Did I book them for myself? Don’t ask. Close to heart attack territory, I arrived at the gate to watch the Air Canada plane to Montreal taxi away from it. Merde, alors.
AC wanted to put me on a plane, through Toronto, that would get in after midnight, but, since I bought the ticket through United, I thought I would see what they could do. It wasn’t a lot better, but it did get me in around ten, flying through Newark.
By the time I got home, without my luggage, I was sick as a dog, with yet another respiratory infection. I didn’t bomb this one out with antibiotics, because you only get so many tries at that, and I am afraid I have been using mine up. So I suffered through it with cold meds only, and my immune system does work. It just took its time, and I slept a lot.
I never check luggage on the way out, and almost never on the way back, but I had bought a few things in HK, you see. My “carry-on” arrived the next day, with a broken wheel. I didn’t have time for United to replace it, because I was flying out again so soon, so I bought a new one, and, after a good few web site interactions, phone calls, etc. UAL paid me enough to cover the new one and a little more. I’d still like to have the old one fixed but the Cordonnier downstairs, who also sells luggage, wouldn’t touch it, and the company that sold it to me isn’t answering my calls or emails. Sigh, more landfill. And I love that little red bag.
After I recovered, I did manage a couple of dinners with my good Montreal friends, but not nearly enough. On Tuesday, March 11, I was back in the air, on the way to Buenos Aires.
I have had a friend in Buenos Aires, for well over 10 years. I hired her as a tour guide, lo those many years, and, as we are kindred spirits, we have kept in touch ever since. Eilat has moved on from the tour guiding business, and now has a lovely seven-year-old daughter, named Olivia. They were part of my plan for BA, as were my client friends on the Pole-to-Pole.
I boarded the plane in YUL on time, pre-boarded, no less. I had booked wheelchairs. I do learn. After fifteen minutes or so, we all got off again, as there was a software problem being documented. We were assured it was fixed. They were right and we did take off, only a little more than an hour late. This, of course, meant a very tight connection in Sao Paolo, Brazil, where we also had to go through customs, but this time, we made it. Wheelchairs, Helen. I likely would have made this one without them, but they offered comfort and peace of mind.
I had booked myself into a wonderful old Grande Dame of a Hotel, the Palacio Alvear, so I could treat my ship friends and my BA friends, to the super Tea I remembered there, from 2018. It’s the Hyde Park Hotel for a third of the price. The hotel had upgraded me and I had a fabulous suite with a Jacuzzi. Ooooo, yes.
I just had time for a short nap, before dinner with Eilat, our private catch-up time. She picked me up at the hotel, and took me to a pharmacy, where I stocked up on toiletries. That’s a necessity, if you want to get through 42 days aboard, and you fly with carry on. It didn’t take long and soon we were are at La Cabrera.
Eilat had taken my group to La Cabrera, back in about 2012, when it was relatively new. It has since become a popular institution. You pay for your meat and pretty much everything else comes with it. There must have been 15 side dishes. Since Eilat knows what she is doing, we ordered one rib steak to share and had them cut it in half, so I could have blue and she could have well done. All of this was possible. We ate on the terrasse, and we did catch up, until I started to digest, and it was quickly downhill from there. I had likely been up close to 24 hours, with just a one hour nap.
So, I got to bed early, had a wonderful night’s sleep and was ready for my tub in the late morning. The hotel let me check out at one, and I just moved into its bar to catch up on my emails and travel work. I liked my office:
I was in touch with everyone I needed to be, including my Volendam passengers. Lynann had got the bright idea to use the Hop-On-Hop-Off Bus to get her here, after a nice city tour. She arrived around four. Tanner and Suellen Girard, had stayed overnight in the nearby Hyatt and walked over, Eilat and Olivia came in her car, and Dee and Wells came in a taxi, including his very neat, 35-lb, suitcase sized scooter.
Tea did not disappoint. It was great to see everyone, and Olivia had the time of her life. She was very well behaved, and she took in all feasts, visual and culinary. She didn’t like every single thing, but she tried it all. Good on her.
The Girards walked back to the Hyatt, Eilat and Olivia went home for a short night’s sleep before their Chilean adventure, and the hotel found a big taxi for the rest of us back to the Volendam. There was no bother checking in in the evening, and no line either. My key was in my room and I was ready for bed.
We were docked in Buenos Aires until 5pm the next day, but I wasn’t interested in going out again, with Eilat out of town. I was still recovering from the long flights, but not, Hallelujah, from any sort of respiratory thing, yea AvaMys. The highlight of my day was dinner with my old table mates, the Wescotts and Lynann Barnes, and my new ones, Tanner and Suellen Girard. They have our stewards, Dian and Amin, trained to bring crudites, and dips to start, cater to their culinary wants and needs, and make ginger tea at the end. Just like home. I ordered my wine package and enjoyed my first glass with roast prime rib. With the production show team on stage after dinner, life doesn’t get much better.
I fiddled around with trying to upgrade my cabin, but it was almost as much to upgrade it as I had paid or it in the first place, so I let that go. I like the location on the promenade deck, and I can see out just fine.
On the Ides of March, we were in Punta del Este, Uruguay. Wells Wescott, the Girards and I went on an Olive Oil tour and tasting. It was just like a Wine tour and tasting, only the snacks were better. Everybody has something for us to taste nowadays. We came back to lasagna for dinner, at least I did, and Joseph Anthony, an Italian-American comedian, on the world stage. The lasagna was more to my taste.
On March 16, we were at sea and I settled into my routine, which consists mostly of working in my cabin during the day and playing at night. The Internet is good at sea now, and T-Mobile gives me free WiFi calls, so it’s pretty much as good a working environment as home.
At 4 o’clock there was a block party to usher in the segment. These things are fun. You just bring a wine glass out into your hallway and your stewards pour wine into it and pass hors d’oeuvres. It’s a great way to meet the neighbors. Towards the end, I decked back into my cabin and grabbed the stuffed beaver I had bought for the Wescotts in YUL. They, like me, decorate their cabin with stuffed animals, only more of them. I thought they need a typically Canadian one. So I sauntered through the rest of Deck 3, starboard, with the beaver in the bag from the duty free at YUL. It happens that the lanai cabins midships are full of Canadians, even some Montrealers. I couldn’t resist showing them what I had in the bag. Next thing you know, I had an armload of miscellaneous wildlife in my arms and a bout five cameras pointing my way. It dawned on me that they all wanted a picture with my beaver. And so I said so. And then I realized what I had just said. Sometimes life is like that, so here’s the picture, with my beaver:
Dee made him feel very welcome and he is now living in the Pinnacle Suite, among good friends and even has his picture on the door.
The pianist on the world stage after dinner was Pablo Bendersky and he was very good.
This is egregious, I know, but we pick up our story on Saturday, February 8, in Phu My (Saigon),Vietnam. I have been in to Saigon a whole bunch of times, seen the sights, and bought a lot of clothing and other stuff. I am traveling in carry-on this time and don’t need much. All I wanted was a good Vietnamese meal and to see what there was in the Port City of Phu My. So, I took the shuttle to the gate and negotiated for a taxi. I wanted three hours, so he would wait for me while I ate.
The port city has a very nice wide highway running through it, with a lot of commercial establishments along it, including restaurants, massage parlours, bars and karaoke lounges. Lam, my driver, volunteered to take me to the supermarket, since I had managed to make him understand I wanted food, but I didn’t want to cook it myself, so that was a non-starter.
I asked him for the best restaurant he knew and he took me down an alleyway, to what might have been a great place but, the chef wouldn’t be cooking for another hour, and I was having a hell of a time making myself understood. I finally got the server and Lam to start google translating with me, and things improved.
I understood that once we left this town, it was 30 km or 1 hour each way to get to a better one, and Lam would want more money, in that case. We settled on him just finding me another restaurant. He did pretty well the second time. It was Quan An 46, which I decided to keep because it had tanks full of live seafood, and was next door to a massage parlour. I never did have the massage because I was too hungry to have it before dinner and didn’t think it would be a great idea on a full stomach.
The seafood was good. It was a typical Chinese (or Thai, or Cambodian, or Philippine, or Indonesian) fresh seafood place. Only the sauces vary a little. But live seafood shines, and I was happy.
I got back in time for Michelle Montuori’s show, and she was better for sure.
The next day, I had another office hour and a couple came with a good but ambitious plan of what they would see in Hong Kong on their one day. I felt better about it when he said the two of them walk about eight miles a day, every day. They have a chance but not much time. All ships should overnight in Hong Kong. I posted my log and blog, wrote and delivered another newsletter, caught up with my travel work and got myself to my 6:00pm Happy Hour in The Crow’s Nest, before dinner. The Sons of Soulville were on stage. They were worth going to.
Monday, February 10. At Sea.
My apologies if it is sparse from here on in. I had too much fun in Hong Kong, and got too sick after I flew home. Next thing I knew, I was at sea again. It is now actually March 23, and I am on the Volendam Pole-to-Pole for a segment, because I have three cabins booked on it, and because it meets up with the Zuiderdam in Barcelona. There will be a big retirement party for Henk Mensink, Zuiderdam, and formerly Amsterdam Hotel Manager. Henk and his wife, Cristel, former Guest Services Manager on the Amsterdam, have been a big part of my hosting career. I am flattered that they want me.
There was always someone at office hour, wanting to talk about Hong Kong, but no one had any problems for me to help with, which is the way we all like it. I had a little no-host cocktail party before dinner and about six people came. After dinner, StepOne did a thing called Musicology, and, as usual, it was very good.
Here’s where (on Mar 24) I took up this narrative on Tuesday, February 11, in Da Nang (Hue), Vietnam. I stayed on board and worked on the fun I was going to have in Hong Kong, a bit of a shame, but you can’t do it all. I took a night excursion into Hoi An for a delicious meal, as good as it could be, considering they were serving hundreds of us. Hoi An has come a long way since I first visited it. It was more charming and more authentic before, but it sure looks like it is prospering now. I couldn’t resist buying three of these great lanterns.
What I am going to do with them, I have no idea, but something will present itself. I have friends.
Back at Sea on Thursday, February 13, HAL had its Mariners’ parties. They are always interesting. The cruise is winding down. I’ll miss my nice people. There are two brothers and their wives in the group, who have sort of adopted me for dinner. It’s nice. The Sons of Soulville were back, and even better than the first time.
On Friday, February 14, we docked in Halong Bay, Vietnam. I took the shuttle in to the market and had some delicious street food, on the back street behind the market. The Street Food Chef did her cooking in a sort of chimney and didn’t look like she would want her picture taken so:
That’s her, in black. The one in blue is my fellow client. This is what I got to eat for next to nothing:
And it was wonderful. My only regret was that I didn’t have two of them. Should have gone back.
This was the restaurant:
I know it just looks like a street and not a very salubrious one at that, but that’s where some of the best food is. All you have to know about street food is that it must be cooked right in front of you. Follow that rule and you’ll never get sick from it. I sure didn’t. My tummy purred for hours. It only wanted more.
Back on board, Step One did a show called MOVE, and they sure did. I think I am jealous.
Saturday, February 15 was our last day on board. It’s the day everyone packs and says their “goodbye”s. I don’t have much to pack, so it’s quick, but I had a lot of last minute communications with the Hong Kong side. I was pretty excited.
On Sunday, February 16, we finaly docked in Hong Kong. I took a taxi to my usual home there, The Conrad in Pacific Place, HK side. I am going to, give my nine days in HK very short shrift here, because it’s old news now and because my HK friends tend to be very private people and shun the Internet, as best they can. I did have fun, though, I had a ton of fun.
It started with brunch with my HK family family at the Country Club in Deep Water Bay, a couple of hours after I checked in to The Conrad. I decided to just provide a picture of the guest of honor. This is no ordinary brunch.
After an afternoon nap, and a bit of work, I took a tram to WanChai, my old workplace. I met some nice people from Chicago on the tram, and we ended up in a Dai Pai Dong, on Johnston Road. Perfect. Monday, I was invited to the unveiling of a new wing of the Art Museum at Chinese University of HK. While I was out ShaTin way, I met up with a couple of old Mensa buddies at another Dai Pai Dong. It was great, but half way through dinner, my appetite left me and all I wanted was a taxi home and my bed. I didn’t want to waste any of my HK time, so I gave myself an immediate dose of Cipro and stuffed myself with cough meds. I was going to the races on Wednesday night. A kind friend sent me 4 tests, not only for COVID, but 9 other respiratory viruses, too. Luckily, I didn’t have any of them and spent the whole day in bed. I was feeling fine by evening, fine enough to take a young exchange student from McGill, to Ye Shanghai, one of my favorite restaurants in Pacific Place. She has fallen in love with Hong Kong, too, despite having to put in 20,000 steps a day, just to live her life. Wednesday morning I woke up in fine fettle, still testing negative. This is my view from the Conrad. It has been changing over the years, the harbour shrinking:
I got the horse race tips, and managed to make a little money at the races. I place a lot of exotic bets in the hopes of a big haul, and that doesn’t happen that often. But my host, who was more conservative, managed to pay for dinner for four, with two bottles of wine, in the Voting Members’ Box, and have a little left over. That made me very happy. My HK hosts are all so generous.
The next day, I was on the tram to WanChai, again, this time to buy tea and presies for a few people at home. Near Wing Kee Tea shop are some lanes, not as commercial as Li Yuen E and W, in Central, but well suited to my purposes. I got some nice char siu to nibble on for my “breakfast” too.
Of course, by night I was having dinner in The Hong Kong Club, which is still going strong, albeit with a lot more Chinese members. I told my hosts about Wednesday’s races, and next thing I knew, I’d be going to the races on Saturday, too.
Friday, night, a nice Indian meal, and too much beer, at the Foreign Correspondents Club, but not the old silliness, which is how we used to drink ourselves. We had a great time at the races in Shatin on Saturday. The buffet in the Hong Club Box was amazing. We wanted for nothing except for it to have been a better day for the tips. But, that’s the way they work, and I know it. I didn’t mind a bit.
I caught some damn thing on the planes home, which were delayed again, seeing me home over twelve hours later than planned and feeling totally crumby. I spent a few days in bed with Robbie, which would have been nicer if he were a cuddly cat, like Cowper, Henry, Charlie, or even Sylly P. But he’s my guy, and I love him.
The eleven home days flew by and I’m back on board the Volendam, from whence this comes, and the next one will be all about South America.
Singapore, February 1, 2025, the second leg began, and I became the only Distinctive Host for the 28 people who are staying on to, and past, Hong Kong. I had forgotten that we no longer dock at one of my favorite shopping centres in Singapore. It used to be so great. You could buy all sorts of disposable clothing and watches, and cheap, unique souvenirs, an escalator ride down from the ship. It’s now called Marina Bay Cruise Terminal and is a 10 minute walk and 2 MRT rides to the Marina Bay Sands Hotel, with its Casino and mall. That’s it in the distance, taken from the beginning of the mercifully covered walkway.
Once I had invested the walk, I could have gone to Chinatown or little India, the botanical gardens or the Jurong Bird park. Singapore’s MRT is clean and efficient, and goes everywhere, just like Hong Kong’s. But my plan was simpler. I had seen all those places. All I wanted was a pedicure and a Dim Sum lunch. The mall is one of those top-of-the-line ones, with all the famous name brand stores and hardly any clients. It’s a mystery how they survive, but I guess you only have to sell one or two $5000 purses a day. They are lovely, and the “Crazy Rich Asians” can afford them. I wish I could. The pedicure was about the same price I pay at home in Cours Mont-Royal, and it was excellent. Din Tai Fung, which is a chain, provided the Dim Sum
And I met this lion dance coming down the escalator:
I tapped my VISA card to ride the MRT again and soon was back on board, delivering my first newsletter of the second leg. We were at sea the next day. I like my new desk in the Atrium near Guest Services. I had two visits. One couple are spending a long day in Hong Kong, and have hired a car and driver for the whole day. Good plan. I told them how to use it just like we used our driver35 years ago. They could visit HKMOA on the Kowloon side, check out the Avenue of the Stars on the way to the Star Ferry and meet the driver on the HK side. You get the best pictures from the Star Ferry. They could take one or three rides on it and use their cell phone’s text feature to meet their driver. Linda likes gardens and Zoos and, if it’s a nice day, wants to see the view from the Peak. I recommended lunch in the Clipper Lounge, in the Mandarin, and shopping in the Lanes. They will have a wonderful day and sleep well on the plane home. Stuart Gustafson stopped by, to sign up for dinner on the 7th. It turns out he is “America’s International Travel Expert®” and has spoken on the Main Stages of a lot of ships. I’m guessing that means he’s good, and set him up as a Distinctive Speaker. While I was at it, I booked two time slots in the Hudson room and will see who else we have. At 6:00, I went up to the Crow’s Nest, as promised, and ended up in the singles’ gathering with two of my people, Elmina Davis and Lorraine Aitkin. They had had dinner at five, so I went to dinner with a couple of other singles and spent some time in Billboard Onboard with pianists Megan and Gabe. On Monday, February 3, we docked in Koh Samui, Thailand. I have fond memories of a Koh Samui vacation in 1990, with Carolyn Eyster and Theresa Benedek, who visited Hong Kong for a couple of weeks. We rented a hut right on the beach and had a wonderful time. Those were the days. It’s not all that much fun doing beach time when you are alone, and verging on decrepit, so I decided to be a food tourist in town. We had shore tenders that day and they were pretty elegant, with turned wood and open sides. It was a very pleasant ride. Once on shore, I got a map which indicated where there was a concentration of restaurants, facing the ocean, so I headed there. I walked along the restaurant fronts, taking note of what they were serving, getting some exercise and making my choice. I should have left more time for a massage. That wasn’t so clever, but I had got a good bit of work done and that relaxes me as much as a massage. I liked the look of this restaurant, and it’s sole occupant.
You have to wonder why these places aren’t all full. I guess I am not your typical cruiser. I inquired as to the freshness of the offerings, trying to explain I wanted live seafood from their own tanks. I think I got an affirmative but never saw the tanks. What I did see, right next door, was a vacant lot, where a lady was cleaning raw shrimp and across the street, there were fishing boats.
I walked to the end of the road, but nothing held more appeal than Sylly P’s relative’s restaurant. I was hungry, and it was so good, that I ate half of it before I remembered to take a picture for you.
I washed that down with a couple of Singhas and asked for Mango-Sticky Rice for dessert. They didn’t have it, but I had seen a picture of it at another restaurant closer to the pier. Next stop:
And back to the ship for a long bath and a Margarita at sunset. It was a good day.
I met some of my people at Happy Hour, had dinner with them, and we spent an after-hour in the Piano Bar, again.
Tuesday, February 4, we docked in Laem Chabang (Bangkok), Thailand. If it weren’t so polluted, I could spend a couple of weeks in Bangkok, but there’s nothing more for me to see in a day and it’s not worth the two and a half-hour bus ride in and out to see the same temples again. I got more work done and took the free shuttle in to the mall in Laem Chabang. My stewards had told me to eat at the street food stands outside the mall and that was my plan, but there was no seating out there. The mall, itself, was pretty pathetic, but it was clean as a whistle, and that includes the bathrooms. It had a food court, too, so I decided to check that out. A nice little old Thai man, with a bit of English, volunteered to help me. I ended up with:
And it was all delicious. I hit the Swensen’s for a “sticky, chewy chocolate” ice cream cone and was a happy tourist. We had a second day in Laem Chabang. All I did on shore was change money. I had taken out too many Thai Baht. I need Vietnamese Dong. That done, I re-boarded and delivered my newsletters. Then I went to dinner and saw Michelle Montuori on the World stage. I had last seen her on Oceania in ’22 with Pat & Mike and Pat & Toby. She wasn’t as good this time, but it might have been because she flew for about two days right up until boarding time. Like can be grueling for these ship’s headliners. Thursday, February 6, was another port day, this time Sihanoukville, Cambodia. Now this was a day to remember. It started quietly, signing manifest with Janzy, the Group Events Coordinator, and sending it in, clearing email, blogging and like that. I got another Indonesian food recommendation from my stewards. It was at the end of the free shuttle to Independence Square. I, however, had invested $18 in a different shuttle, which I was beginning to have second thoughts about but figured I should check it out. I could always come back and take the free shuttle. Sihanoukville has changed a lot since the last time I was here in 2019. Then the streets were mostly dirt roads, and the buildings just a few stories high. But there were some cranes in the distance, so building was starting. I didn’t know then, but have since heard, is that what were being built were a bunch of Casinos. The Chinese like to gamble and they like to gamble on other than Chinese soil, for obvious reasons. Since Macau reverted to China in 1999, they have been looking elsewhere and Sihanouk was getting casinos. On this visit, the infrastructure was in place. We drove on wide, paved roads, no potholes, no cones. There were a lot of highrises and Casinos. There might have been malls, too, but I didn’t see them. The shuttle bus let us off at a lovely beach, with a Casino at one end, and a lot of seaside restaurants, some serving Cambodian food, some Chinese, but none serving at 2:30 in the afternoon. They would start up no earlier than 5:00, and many more like 7:00. That left me with nothing to do, but Wow had a tuk-tuk and was more than willing to fill my time. The ship had a representative at the shuttle stop, and she was pretty sure it was safe to go off with him, as long as I negotiated the price, first. Wow’s asking price was $US40 and we agreed on $30. I probably gave in too easily, but I am sure he needed the $30 a lot more than I did. He didn’t have much tour guide patter but seemed to understand me and he showed me a wonderful time.
First Wow took me to exactly the kind of market I like, with food and clothing, all jumbled up. I found a couple of outfits I might have bought, if they had had them in a big enough size. This was truly a local, not a tourist, market. I had mentioned I might like some ice cream, so he took me to a 7-Eleven, assuring me that they didn’t have dedicated ice-cream places. I could have sworn we passed two within the next ten minutes, but no matter, my Magnum ice cream bar was delicious and it cost about a third of what it costs at home.
Now that I had a little sustenance, it was time to go exploring. We started by going straight up to the Temple on the Hill. There was hardly anybody there, so I was able to take my time climbing the colorful stairs
To where there was a great view of developing Sihanoukville.
I later found out it was a case of arrested development, though, as many of the developers had failed during COVID and the Chinese gambling tourists weren’t coming in droves, as planned. There are still monkeys in the central mountain park area, and we could visit them, and feed them, from the comfort and safety of the tuk-tuk. Don’t miss the mother and baby in the center of the picture.
When we got back to Otres Beach, it was still too early to eat, but there were foot massages on offer for $5 and that sounded like a good idea to me. While my feet were being massaged, another lady volunteered to do neck and shoulders, so I had that, too. It was all very nice and relaxing, there by the ocean. If I lived here, I could have it every night. The one doing my feet had enough English to tell me that times were tough now that the Chinese tourists weren’t coming any more, and she blamed COVID. By the time the ladies were done with me, there were a few patrons in the nearby restaurant and I was pretty hungry. I walked about ten feet and up one stair, sat down and ordered a beer. Life was starting to look pretty good. It got better. A very nice young man, from the next table, came over and asked me, in English, if I needed help with the menu. Since it was written entirely in Cambodian characters, I certainly did. There were pictures, mind you, but they didn’t tell you anything about the sauces. I allowed as I could take some spice and actually liked Chili. We ended up ordering this gorgeous dish of shrimp and squid
And, just to be sure, I also ordered a plate of deep fried squid, like we used to get on Lamma Island, in my Hong Kong days, and some steamed rice. It all came with a side of typically Cambodian sauce. My new friend Pitt put just a little of it on my steamed rice for me to try, before I got too frisky with it. That convinced me I wouldn’t be pouring it all over everything, or even dipping. The dish itself was spicy enough. Look at it carefully and note the abundance of chilli. It was absolutely delicious, but I was also very glad of the deep fried squid, which came with a sweet Thai chili sauce, like we are used to. I munched my way happily through both plates, while Pitt told me where he had learned his English, about his family business, and that he now worked for the government, having been a politician at one point. He wanted a picture with me and I handed my camera to the friend that took it, too. So here we are:
It was getting on to sunset and this beautiful day was winding to a close. Pitou and I exchanged phone numbers and we are still WhatsApping for a bit. I hope we meet again one day. I have his number. I waited until the next day to tell him what his name meant in Quebec and he didn’t know. Sihanoukville might be a nice place for an extended holiday. Take a look:
Great beach, nice sunset and all these friendly people waiting to provide personal services before dinner. I could easily spend a week here, if I had someone to spend it with. Respectable hotels start around $50/night and there are guest houses from $15/night. There are a couple of $1,000/night resorts, too, but just a couple. It’s a cheap town, and that gorgeous, scrumptious dish at that paradisical restaurant, was $12. Maybe a couple of months.
After four port days, February 7 was a busy sea day. No one came to office hour, so I used it to clear my email. Seven people came to a Distinctive Speakers talk at one o’clock and I called the final count for dinner in to the Maitre d’, releasing 4 seats on a busy night. Since I had eaten early the day before, and am on intermittent fasting, I was pretty hungry and certainly wasn’t going to the Mariners’ Wine Tasting at 2:00pm, tempting as that was. I had a cocktail and dinner to host at six. So I went to the Lido and found myself a brisket slider and a chocolate ice cream cone. That was good. I walked it off with a couple of laps on the Promenade Deck, had a little nap and got into what passes for formal dress on ships these days. Seven people came to the cocktail party in the Crow’s Nest and eleven people came to dinner. The wine-tasting had taken its toll. The ship had given us two adjacent tables for six and I was able to move between them to see everyone. It was a lovely DV evening. The show was called Tandem and it was the very good Step One Dancers.
So, January 19, 21 and 22, we cruised the Great Barrier Reef. That means sea days with commentary. I am sure the commentary is interesting, but, for me, it just means days to work between Bridge lessons and Duplicate Play. I stopped recording my dinner companions, too, which is a bit of a pity because the dinners are getting to be more and more fun, as I repeat with people I like, and some of my group, who have adopted me. The entertainment on the 19th was The Broadway Boys, only they were different Broadway boys from the ones on the Zuiderdam in 2023. HAL just puts these groups together and they are usually fun and entertaining. On the 20th, it was the Orange Party and I looked in but it didn’t really appeal. On the 21st, however, they had an entertainer I don’t want you to miss, if he comes to your ship. His name is Bradley McCaw and he’s an up and coming Aussie. He plays the piano, sings and races around the whole auditorium at top speed. Not only that, he manages to get us old farts up dancing in the aisles. Remember that name and trust me, while he warms up. It’s well worth it. January 22nd was our DV shore excursion in Darwin. We had two buses full, one for each host. I don’t know about the other bus, but Deb, the guide on ours, was just fantastic. It’s the off season there. The locals, who have gone off on Christmas holidays, are not all back yet, and it’s the supposedly rainy season. We were lucky. It didn’t, and Deb had plenty of wonderful things to say about life in Darwin. It almost makes one want to pick up stakes and go live there. That’s until one remembers how very remote it is. Mind you, that might be a good thing. We visited the local gardens, which featured a fascinating tree, complete with fake snake, and some bat watching. Then we went to MAGNT, the Museum and Art Gallery of the Northern Territories, which was very well done and eye-opening. The best part of the tour, by far, was lunch at Wharf One. It started with a delicious appetizer, which I could have sworn was ceviche and turned out to be crocodile. I just googled “Crocodile Ceviche” and there is such a thing, so that’s what it was. Then we learned all about their local fish, Barramundi, otherwise known as Asian Sea Bass, from their local fish farmer, and how to cook it, from the restaurant’s Chef. It was positively delicious. We loved it and the lunch experience, getting to know each other better. I got to know a wonderful Hungarian family with a three year-old. Back on board, Annie Gong was on the World Stage. I had seen her before, on the 2015 and 2016 HAL world cruises. She’s pretty impressive. Her English has improved a lot, as well as her stage presence. You had to see her dancing with Gage, the Cruise Director, still playing the accordion. Thanks to modern technology, her accordion is now a one-(wo)man-band. We had two more days at sea before Komodo Island. I gave my talk on Hong Kong on one of them, for those who would be going on, or who just might be interested. Most of the 28 guests staying on to, and past Hong Kong came, and had lots of questions. You know me. I am passionate about Hong Kong and assured them I would make myself available to help personalize their experience. Bradley McCaw was back on stage and we were back dancing in the aisles. I gave Komodo Island a miss, because I had seen the dragons twice before. It turned out to be one of the best things I ever did. It poured down relentlessly, making the tendering operation and its disembarkation at the stone stepped-pier perfectly nasty. There were a lot of wheelchairs pressed into use that day and hundreds of people soaked to the skin on the muddy paths, and in line waiting to tender back. I wrote the previous installment to this in the comfort of my cabin and saw Annie Gong again on the World Stage. I gave Lembar, Lombok a pass, too, while I worked on my Mumbai tour for November. Cruising for me is sometimes just like home, only it moves around and feeds me effortlessly. I don’t stress when I miss a port. I’d be stressing if my work wasn’t getting done. Now that the Internet aboard is good, I just go along wth business as usual and pick and choose what I do ashore. I had big plans for Bali, where I had hired an old HAL Dining Room Steward, with a tour business, to take a few of us around and out to dinner. We met Made Seneng, and his wife Dewi right where the ship docked in Denpasar, at the very civilized hour of 9:00am. The nine of us had just piled into Made’s van when the skies opened. It came down in buckets, soon turning the highway into a wading pool, with rivers in the monsoon ditches on either side. It was bad enough for us, but you had to pity the motorcyclists, in their poly ponchos, whizzing through six inches of water, beside us. They were getting somewhere faster than we were, but it looked like a pretty unpleasant, high-risk operation to me. The rain slowed down long enough for us to stop at a 1000-year old temple, where we donned our sarongs and explored a bit.
Just before it started to pour again, we got back into the van and finished our trip to Ubud and the Monkey Forest. Sure enough, the rain stopped for us again and we were able to visit my relatives in peace. There were hundreds of monkeys to see up close
and this pair, intent on making more:
We had a quick lunch at a suckling pig restaurant, where they were out of the delicious skin, but managed to serve us something different and fascinating anyway. We were in a hurry because of all the time lost in traffic, and the need to get in another meal before all-aboard at 9:30pm. Some of us were more stressed than others. I trusted Made, but no one else had that experience. Our shopping stop was curtailed, too, resulting in the purchase of a top that could only be described as a minimizer. I’ll be leaving that on board. Surely one of my stewards has a wife who can fit into it, as it does me no favors. I don’t mind. I like to support the local economy, and, traveling in carry-on, I expect to buy and leave along the way, like the threadbare nightshirt, which will stay in HK, and doubtless be cut into rags. We had four wusses, who wanted to be dropped off at the ship for dinner, for the food, the local show onboard, and not to have to worry about the time. The seven of us, including Made and Devi, continued on to one of the times of our lives. Made took us to Jimbaran Beach, where the sun sets, and the beach is lined with restaurants, to take advantage of it. We ate at a place called the Sea Side Café at a table right on the beach, with the setting sun:
The temperature was perfect, the beer was cold, the food was outstanding, the mariachis serenaded. They were off-key and they would not shut up ‘til they were paid, but that just made it more fun. There was a huge Muslim family party at the restaurant beside us and I later heard from my room stewards that they were at one of the restaurants farther down the beach. We were truly having our fun the way the locals do. Huge thanks to Made for sharing and for serving us our food in the manner to which we have become accustomed on the ship.
We were supposed to stop in Tanjung Priok, the port for Jakarta, but relentless 65-mile-an-hour winds made it impossible and not even safe to stay in the area. The thousand Indonesian family members of the crew, waiting on shore, were disappointed, as were the crew waiting to see them. The captain was practically in tears, when he announced it, and the passengers choked up hearing the announcement. You couldn’t help it. We all get very attached to our always cheerful, hard working stewards. One of mine was lucky. His family had elected to come to Bali, but the other missed his wife, baby, parents and all. You can bet they cried, too. The ship had planned to welcome them aboard, with a party in the Lido, and all. So sad. But we sailed on. The crew show happened the very next day, but I missed it, not to disappoint my Bridge partner and buddies. That’s a great group, too. I don’t know how my partner put up with me, but we’re still friends and hoping to cruise together again. Syan, the balloon entertainer, entertained again and I spent three nights in the piano bar with Gabe and Megan, who are terrific.
And this came in from my friend Prat Parekh. I am late in passing it on: We would like to invite various states such as Vermont, Maine, and Massachusetts in the east or Washington, Oregon, and California in the west to join Canada and become our 11th+ province. The benefits of joining Canada include: • Life expectancy will go up from a world ranking of 48th (USA) to 20th (Canada). • Education will get better from 31st (USA) to 19th (Canada). • Math scores will improve from 34th (USA) to 9th (Canada). • Robberies will go down from 98 per 100,000 population to 62. • Traffic accident deaths will drop from 12.7 per 100,000 to 5.3. • You will spend half as much on health care and get better outcomes. • Poverty in Canada is 1/3 the rate in the USA. • Although Canada has fewer millionaires, we more fairly distribute wealth (better income equality). • The minimum wage in Canada is double that in USA. • and most important you will be happier (Canada ranked 15th, USA 23rd in happiness). • (We couldn’t find a politeness index, but thank you for reading this)
2025 – Singapore to HK – Golden Triangle – Part 3 – Papua New Guinea to The Great Barrier Reef We made three stops in Papua New Guinea, Rabaul, the usual one, plus Kiriwana Island and Conflict Islands, which is privately owned. At Rabaul, I took a ship’s tour to see some Mask dances. There was a lot of hot dusty waiting involved and the highlight of the day was the nice bath I took when I got back to my cabin. I fell asleep in it. I did get a couple of decent pictures of the dancing, though. Here’s one:
And the islands really are idyllic. The next day, January 15, I got a late start due to working on arrangements to join my friends and clients aboard the Volendam in March. It’s all set, I leave Montreal on Tuesday, March 11, arrive in Buenos Aires on the 12th, have dinner with my BA friend, Eilat Jelin, and crash. Next day it’s Afternoon tea at the Alvear palace Hotel with my friends from the ship, who have an overnight. I’ll go back to the ship with them and board. Sounds like a very civilized way to start a cruise. By the time I was ready to board a tender, it was 11am and the last tender back was 2PM. I decided to give Kiriwana a miss, and enjoyed it from Aft on Deck 9, sipping a beer. That’s not the worst part of cruising. I had a very fun dinner with four of our DV people, checked out the “Dance on Deck” and repaired to Billboard Onboard, where I was well entertained by Megan and Gabe’s Dueling Pianos.
January 16, I focused on getting ashore because I had booked a reef snorkeling tour and I wasn’t going to miss that. It was a gorgeous island, what you would call a tropical paradise. There was pretty good snorkelling, right from shore, for free, I was told. Next time, maybe I’ll do that but this time, I had my heart set on the reef experience. It was a pig-hot wait and not all that well-organized, but, in the end, it came out as it should have, and it was wonderful. The reef they took us out to was teeming with fish of all colors and sizes, simply beautiful. Some saw baby sharks. I didn’t need that experience. I was content with the pretty fishies and the giant clam, pointed out by the local who attached himself to me as my protector. I was glad to have him, too. I am seriously out of practice and got way too tired doing what used to be almost nothing. I need to take my snorkel up to our pool and practice swimming. My shower was wonderful, dinner delicious and the Modern Dance company, Step One were fabulous in MOVE! It was their third show, should have been their second. That one turned out to be different because they were missing one dancer to illness. He was back and it was just great.
We were back at sea and playing Bridge on January 17 and I was working on my Hong Kong Presentation, which has now been scheduled for January 23rd. I poked my nose into the Masquerade Ball, but was happier with an early night and my towel elephant:
January 18, we docked in Cairns and I had booked myself onto the Kuranda Scenic Railway Shore Excursion. A bus took us up, through the rainforest, to the town of Kuranda, where we had an hour and a half to explore, shop and eat. I did not dare go into the butterfly or koala gardens, for fear I might miss the train, so I shopped and had an ice cream. I didn’t find anything to buy, except some Q-Tips, nail clippers and a package of M & Ms Peanut. Thay ended up being my lunch on the train, the ice-cream having been breakfast. The train certainly was scenic and very old.
I had a planned dinner that night, Canadian connections, and it was all very nice. The Australian comedian, Gavin Baskerville, was pronounced “rubbish” by the Brits I was sitting with. My word only had 4 letters. Today we are cruising the Great Barrier Reef, which means there are nice views out the Bridge Room windows, but you can’t see the reef. It’s beneath us, of course. And this is a week old now. It has been a busy one. Report soon come. Enjoy it while I write more.
This is turning out to be very different for me. I am enjoying in a totally different way. I am playing Bridge, going to shows, and getting a lot of work done, mostly on my Mumbai-Singapore Distinctive Voyage in November. We left off on Tuesday, January 7. The 8th was a Sea Day, so I played Bridge with my great partner, Patricia. The fact that she has been a Bridge Teacher and Director for years, intimidates the hell out of me, but I sure am learning. The instructor, Mike Cochran is very good and a hoot. Much of that which he teaches would only be useful if I had a regular partner, with whom I played at least 4 days week. So, I take my cues from Pat and, ya know, I think I might actually be improving. Our very worst day was a 50% game and we came 2nd N-S once. I’ve been going to dinner and sitting at a sharing table every night. Most of them have been great, especially last night (13th) when I landed Tom Vassos, the Canadian Astronomer, cosmologist, science advocate and author of The Ultimate Guided Tour of the Universe, and, by all reports, a fascinating Guest Speaker. I am torn between attending his lectures and playing Duplicate, and Bridge wins, but I know I am missing a lot. He brought with him Paul Sutter, cosmologist, award-winning science communicator, NASA advisor, U.S. Cultural Ambassador, and a globally recognized leader in the intersection of art and science. Ya think I had fun? Google these guys and you’ll see. But you’re not getting the usual today, because my email brought me a very well thought out comment on the state of the world today, that I have to pass on. Just this once. Joseph Jacques Jean Chrétien is a Canadian politician, statesman, and lawyer who served as the 20th prime minister of Canada from 1993 to 2003. He was so much more. I have always looked up to him as the voice of reason and he just proved it again. Here are his thoughts today, passed on to me by Joan McGuigan. I actually choked up when I read it, the reaction of a proud Canadian.
THIS IS THE ONLY THING YOU SHOULD READ TODAY and PASS ON, by Jean Chretien
Today is my 91st birthday.
It’s an opportunity to celebrate with family and friends. To look back on the life I’ve had the privilege to lead. And to reflect on how much this country we all love so much has grown and changed over the course of the nine decades I’ve been on this Earth.
This year, I’ve also decided to give myself a birthday present. I’m going to do something in this article that I don’t do very often anymore, and sound off on a big issue affecting the state of the nation and profoundly bothering me and so many other Canadians: The totally unacceptable insults and unprecedented threats to our very sovereignty from U.S. president-elect Donald Trump.
I have two very clear and simple messages.
To Donald Trump, from one old guy to another: Give your head a shake! What could make you think that Canadians would ever give up the best country in the world – and make no mistake, that is what we are – to join the United States?
I can tell you Canadians prize our independence. We love our country. We have built something here that is the envy of the world – when it comes to compassion, understanding, tolerance and finding a way for people of different backgrounds and faiths to live together in harmony.
We’ve also built a strong social safety net – especially with public health care – that we are very proud of. It’s not perfect, but it’s based on the principle that the most vulnerable among us should be protected.
This may not be the “American Way” or “the Trump Way.” But it is the reality I have witnessed and lived my whole long life.
If you think that threatening and insulting us is going to win us over, you really don’t know a thing about us. You don’t know that when it came to fighting in two world wars for freedom, we signed up – both times – years before your country did. We fought and we sacrificed well beyond our numbers.
We also had the guts to say no to your country when it tried to drag us into a completely unjustified and destabilizing war in Iraq.
We built a nation across the most rugged, challenging geography imaginable. And we did it against the odds.
We may look easy-going. Mild-mannered. But make no mistake, we have spine and toughness.
And that leads me to my second message, to all our leaders, federal and provincial, as well as those who are aspiring to lead our country: Start showing that spine and toughness. That’s what Canadians want to see – what they need to see. It’s called leadership. You need to lead. Canadians are ready to follow.
I know the spirit is there. Ever since Mr. Trump’s attacks, every political party is speaking out in favour of Canada. In fact, it is to my great satisfaction that even the Bloc Québécois is defending Canada.
But you don’t win a hockey game by only playing defence. We all know that even when we satisfy one demand, Mr. Trump will come back with another, bigger demand. That’s not diplomacy; it’s blackmail.
We need another approach – one that will break this cycle.
Mr. Trump has accomplished one thing: He has unified Canadians more than we have been ever before! All leaders across our country have united in resolve to defend Canadian interests.
When I came into office as prime minister, Canada faced a national unity crisis. The threat of Quebec separation was very real. We took action to deal with this existential threat in a manner that made Canadians, including Quebeckers, stronger, more united and even prouder of Canadian values.
Now there is another existential threat. And we once again need to reduce our vulnerability. That is the challenge for this generation of political leaders.
And you won’t accomplish it by using the same old approaches. Just like we did 30 years ago, we need a Plan B for 2025.
Yes, telling the Americans we are their best friends and closest trading partner is good. So is lobbying hard in Washington and the state capitals, pointing out that tariffs will hurt the American economy too. So are retaliatory tariffs – when you are attacked, you have to defend yourself.
But we also have to play offence. Let’s tell Mr. Trump that we too have border issues with the United States. Canada has tough gun control legislation, but illegal guns are pouring in from the U.S. We need to tell him that we expect the United States to act to reduce the number of guns crossing into Canada.
We also want to protect the Arctic. But the United States refuses to recognize the Northwest Passage, insisting that it is an international waterway, even though it flows through the Canadian Arctic as Canadian waters. We need the United States to recognize the Northwest Passage as being Canadian waters.
We also need to reduce Canada’s vulnerability in the first place. We need to be stronger. There are more trade barriers between provinces than between Canada and the United States. Let’s launch a national project to get rid of those barriers! And let’s strengthen the ties that bind this vast nation together through projects such as real national energy grid.
We also have to understand that Mr. Trump isn’t just threatening us; he’s also targeting a growing list of other countries, as well as the European Union itself, and he is just getting started. Canada should quickly convene a meeting of the leaders of Denmark, Panama, Mexico, as well as with European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen, to formulate a plan for fighting back these threats.
Every time that Mr. Trump opens his mouth, he creates new allies for all of us. So let’s get organized! To fight back against a big, powerful bully, you need strength in numbers.
The whole point is not to wait in dread for Donald Trump’s next blow. It’s to build a country and an international community that can withstand those blows.
Canadians know me. They know I am an optimist. That I am practical. And that I always speak my mind. I made my share of mistakes over a long career, but I never for a moment doubted the decency of my fellow Canadians – or of my political opponents.
The current and future generations of political leaders should remember they are not each other’s enemies – they are opponents. Nobody ever loved the cut-and-thrust of politics more than me, but I always understood that each of us was trying to make a positive contribution to make our community or country a better place.
That spirit is more important now than ever, as we address this new challenge. Our leaders should keep that in mind.
I am 91 today and blessed with good health. I am ready at the ramparts to help defend the independence of our country as I have done all my life.
Helen Megan 