2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 1 – Southampton to Tenerife 1.3

Land Ho!  We docked in Southampton, England on January 11.  I met three of my people at my desk, and we disembarked, and took the free shuttle into town.  The one who needed it was able to get his Aussie ETA on the bus.  All it took was for his good self to be on terra firma, where the Australian Government app could locate him. 

The shuttle bus let us off practically at Boots’ door.  In short order, the with canes and miscellaneous toiletries and meds were obtained.  I went off to find the IKEA, where Wanda and Katja were going to pick me up.  And they did, and off we went.  Katja had figured a route that would include the Royal Southampton Yacht Club and a very posh pub and museum that we might find interesting.

The origins of the Royal Southampton Yacht Club go back to the West Quay Amateur Regatta Club in 1858, which was renamed the Southampton Amateur Regatta Club in 1862.  The clubhouse is new and is a ways inland on the Beaulieu river with easy access to the Solent  It’s at a place called “Gins”.  Beaulieu, I have to tell you, is pronounced “Bewley” in the UK.  You have to wonder.

 It’s a beautiful spot and we could have stayed for lunch, but there wasn’t much going on and Katja’s posh pub called, so we just had a little drink and off we went.

Buckler’s Hard is an old shipyard, a very old shipyard.  They built naval galleons and clipper ships, and all kinds of ships, from 1698 to 1814.  A Buckler’s Hard built ship fought at the Boston Tea Party.  It’s part of the Beaulieu Estate in the New Forest, which is Crown Land.  The Montagu family still owns it, well, leases it from the Crown.  It’s complicated in England. 

It’s a lovely little place, with a bunch of shipwrights cottages, built one by one but in a couple of rows, for warmth, I guess, very picturesque:

The one on the end near the water is the Master Builder’s house and houses the Inn and Henry’s Pub, where we ate. 

And I thought I took some pictures inside but they weren’t on my phone when I went looking for them.  It was a lovely lunch. Katja had fish ‘n chips and the piece of fish was enormous and excellent, she said.  Wanda and I had the game pie, which was truly out of this world.  The locals were friendly, too.  We had nice conversations with two couples.  One of them was a Texan who had married a Brit over 20 years ago.  She showed up presently.  They were recently retired to this area and just loved it, as did the other couple.  It sure did look like a good life, as long as one could afford a good lunch, in a posh pub. 

We didn’t have time to do the museum justice, but I bought the book and enjoyed it thoroughly.  I plan to give it to Katja to thank her, too, for taking a day off to drive us two old bats around.  We had a marvelous time.  The terminal was almost empty when I got there.  I was one of the last to board, even though the ship didn’t sail until six!  Obviously, the rest of the passengers didn’t have anything at least as good to do. 

The New Forest is a fascinating place: Brusher Mills was a famous local snake catcher, catching over 30,000 snakes in his career.  The Rufus Stone is where King William II (Rufus) was fatally wounded with an arrow. Ponies roam free.  The little girl, upon whom Alice in Wonderland is based, is buried in Lyndhurst.  The village of Burley has links to dragons and witches. The Beaulieu river, as well other forest waterways, were used by smugglers in days gone by. 

After that fun day, with its massive lunch, I took a nap and found sone sushi in the King’s Court. Then I took in the 10:15 pm show, which was ODY-C, an acapella quartet, with electronic drums.

Back at sea on January 12, we were informed that this is the 20^th anniversary of Queen Mary 2’s maiden voyage.   I expected a bit more fanfare, but we didn’t get it.  It was the Black and White Gala evening but that was about it.   We have a new captain.  He is Aseem Hashmi and so far I am loving his noonday talks. 

We got the news that we would be responsible for our own visas for Indonesia.  That had been suggested before we sailed but you had to be within 90 days of arrival there, which will be the 9^th of March, so I didn’t do it when I did my Aussie ETA.  I figured the ship would take care of it as HAL always had.  Not this year, not this ship.  Like Australia, Indonesia has “simplified the process” to the point where the ship finds it too complicated to be doing it for us.  I got that after I tried to do it for myself and had to apply to Gunay, the WC consultant, for help, when it wanted my address in Indonesia and would not accept the ship, as it doesn’t have an address with a postal code.  He promised to have a step-by-step guide ready by 2:00 pm. 

Gunay delivered and I worked my way through the thing, which I could never have done alone.  From being a nice quiet little lounge, his Atlantic room, has suddenly become quite full, with a long line for his services.  I’ll take some of the pressure off by doing visas for my passengers.  It helps me get to know them, and adds value to the DV.

The gala night was like every other gala night and there’s one every week or so  You get a production show and I like them.  This one was “Be our Guest”.

The next day, January 13, the ship’s newsletter announced that we would be doing our own visas for Sri Lanka, too.  It was clearly time for Newsletter 2, so I got busy on it.  I had to tweak our dinner dates a bit and I wanted to offer my little visa service. 

The Cunard world cruise attracts more Brits and Europeans that HAL’s and I love the British sense of humour.  On the rather crowded elevator to my stateroom on Deck six, I found myself at the back of the car.  When Deck 6 came along, I piped up  “I’m getting off here” and the woman in front of me said “That’s what you think.” 

A Virgin Mary in a ship’s bar is only 70 cents cheaper than a Chivas Regal – doubtless the same price as a bar scotch.  We pay for labour now.  For dinner, I was matched up with Barbara and Chris, from Germany, who were delightful.  Barbara was a nurse, who now makes house calls to seniors who need a fair bit of help.  The German government pays her to.  She gets to spend a couple of hours with each patient, and get to know them, while making sure they eat well, take their meds, etc.  Chris retired in his early forties, because he was a fighter pilot, which has an early retirement age, for obvious reasons.  Now he has a company that installs windmills all over the world. Later in the meal, we were joined by Sylvia, another nurse and Phil, a teacher.  More Brits, but not from London.  I have yet to meet an English person who lives in London.

The entertainment was Jon Courtenay, who plays the piano and does comedy, like my hero Tom Lehrer.  He wasn’t that good, but he was very good, indeed. 

The next morning’s email brought more news from our tour supplier, and a link to our tour on their web site.  You can buy it for $195US, so it’s a good one.  I also got all the  information I needed to sell it.

The rumors have started that we won’t be doing the Red Sea, nor the Suez canal, but the rumors with the alternatives haven’t started yet. 

I took an hour off for Jon Courtenay’s talk.  It was great.  He had all sorts of film clips from Victor Borge, Groucho Marx, British pianists I didn’t know, Elton John, Liberace and, of course, Tom Lehrer.  Our Harvard Math Professor, by the way, never studied under, nor taught with Tom Lehrer at Harvard, but, like me, he knows the words to all the songs, except maybe “The Elements”.  Well, we know the words to that, too.  It’s just a matter of getting them into the right order so they rhyme.

My dinner table had Helen, and Vera, and Mike, and Carol, all of whom were British and none of them Londoners.  It’s a definite pattern. The entertainment was Duo Essencias, an award-winning classical violinist from Hungary, who fell in love with a Flamenco dancer from Spain.  They created their show to work together.  It was fun.  Tomorrow we will be in Tenerife.

Monday, January 8, was the Queen’s birthday – Queen Mary 2, that is.  She’s 20:

I had had the bright idea to call the people who needed the canes to come to my desk where we could look at them at Boot’s the Chemist’s web site.  There would be one in Southampton.  I had to find some way to drive a bit of traffic to the desk.  It worked too, as there are different lengths, handles, tips and even features.  One sees all that when one goes to a web site.   

My handicapped passenger’s problem is sorting out, too.  The World Cruise (WC – tee hee) Concierge did get Spa appointments for showers, for her, and I assume the commode, too because I heard no more about it.  It’s not ideal but it will work. 

I discovered the “World Cruise Lounge” for breakfast in the afternoon.  It’s brilliant, a nice selection of tea food, and a bunch of little tables looking out the bow of the ship, on Deck 11.  There’s a concierge, Gunay, and a steward, whose name I must get.  He’s awfully nice.  It’s quiet and very pleasant.  People talk to each other. 

The ship matched me up with a very lively bunch at dinner.  Joe and Kathy are Brits, who worked in healthcare in the US, and Sally is a psychologist.  She and her friend Carmella were fun, as was Mark, who was also brilliant.  At least he was reading a very esoteric book.  The entertainment was Chanteuse, a couple of Broadway singers doing Diva music but not really divas.

The next day, January 9, I found out I had another disabled guest.  Her power chair is the all-terrain vehicle of power chairs.  It is called a Ranger Discovery.  It will go over gravel and moguls, hill and dale.  It packs up to the size of a suitcase and weighs fifty pounds, battery included.  She was very proud of it and not fazed when I told her I had seen a power chair keel over near the Deck 11 elevators yesterday.  I guess hers won’t and I sure don’t want to be there if it ever does.  She’s an interesting, strong person and knows what she wants and needs.  Unfortunately, it isn’t dinner.  She’s so allergic to onions that she can’t even sit at a table where people are eating anything with an onion in it, which is just about everything in most restaurants.  With all of that, she’s really positive.  She and her husband live in a 564 sq.ft. Manhattan apartment.  She doesn’t know what to do with all the space in their stateroom.  Gotta love her.

In the end there were just three of us for dinner, but it was super.  I’m loving Cunard.  The lecture program is very rich and, while I don’t have much time to appreciate it, I do like the people it attracts – a ton of academics.  They’re quick and witty and sort of leave me in the dust, but I can hold my own in the wine department and that’s  a big topic.  This one is a retiring Math professor at Harvard.  I did some math myself and woke up realizing that he was likely studying math at Harvard when Tom Lehrer was teaching it.  We had a very lively discussion about wine.   We are going to work together to have some wine events, maybe even a progressive wine tour.  Have to find out if we have enough winos. I skipped the show, as I had seen both performers before, and it was a good wait until 10:15PM.

Another sea day on January 10.  I love them because I can get work done. I am now meeting three people at 9:30 am tomorrow in Southampton, one to get his Aussie ETA, and two for canes.  The ETA app should be able to find him, when we find WiFi, so all will be well, but we’ll be together, just in case. 

I landed an interesting table at dinner.  Heather and Richard were a British couple, Bruce an American professional musician and choir director, and a young couple, who were the seriously interesting part.  I had sat behind him in the show on formal night.  He’s young, between 25 and 40, I’d say.  His hair has dyed sections up the middle, blue on the right, magenta on the left.  They met nicely in a Mohawk a good 5 inches high.  The lower half of his head was almost shaved, but in swirls.  That was on formal night.  Tonight, the Mohawk was just combed over, leaving only the color expressing his individuality.  For all of that, he’s an entrepreneur, has multiple companies, sources his labor in India, sell his services in the US and Europe.  He maintains he just started getting good job offers, when he adopted the piercings and flamboyant hair-do.  His wife(?) has no tattoos or piercings, has long hair, worn simply and looks like the paleontologist that she is.  One of them, or both if they’re brother and sister, has a grandmother in England, who is 98, still going strong, and has two PhDs.  She might still be consulting part-time.  On top of all the accomplishments, that kept coming out in the conversation, that was the icing on the cake.  Too bad they were getting off in Southampton, I would have liked to have pursued.

There was a production show that night – Broadway Rocks, so I stayed up for it.

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 1 – The Atlantic 1.1

Thursday, January 4, 2024 was our first day at sea.  I got busy and called everyone, reaching most of them.  One of them, who is travelling with a caregiver, fell, a week or two before they boarded and she’s in a wheelchair now.  She cannot navigate the lip on the bathroom door without help and the shower is impossible.  She might have to go home if the ship cannot find her an ADA room.  I’ll ask but this doesn’t look good.  Their travel agent had been on that one for over a week before sailing.  We are hoping for maybe a commode and access to the Spa for showers.

I got to my office hour at eleven.  It’s tucked away in an odd part of the ship, between the games tables and the meeting rooms.  There’s not a lot of foot traffic.  Three people found me, though.  My group co-ordinator came by and cleared up a few things, but sadly, there wasn’t an ADA room available on the ship at any price. They are looking at ways to accommodate my passenger.  I went back to my cabin, worked on my cocktail party speech and had it printed along with a new manifest. 

Around 3:30pm, I went to tea in the Royal Court.  It was very nice, with white tablecloths, lots of elegant servers, a pianist and all.  I ate two finger sandwiches, two pastries, and three scones with cream and strawberry jam.  I started off at a table to myself but, when asked, took on another person.  He turned out to be a very nice Italian but not my cup of tea.  He was single and lonesome, but all he was looking for was a dance partner and they gave me the speaking parts in the ballet recitals, in high school. 

A half-hour before Cocktail Party time, I betook myself to Sir Samuel’s, its designated bar.  It was decently attended, considering it conflicted with early dinner. Two couples came to dinner with me after and they were delightful.   The entertainment was the all dancing, some singing production show “Apassionata” and it was super.  There were five couples swirling around in hot pink and black, two of them better singers and three of them better dancers.  It was all wonderful.

The late shows on board don’t let out until eleven, so I slept in until nine the next day, cleared my email and did some client work. 

They changed the main floral arrangement.  This one is not too shabby either.

One of my people came to the Desk.  She said they had come to the cocktail party a little late but no one was there.  Luckily another one was there, to vouch for me, and suggest she might have come an hour late because of the ship having put the clocks forward an hour at noon.  It’s a funny way to do it, taking the hour out of the day rather than the night.  I guess the old farts had been complaining or the ship finds it easier to entertain us for an hour less.  But it IS confusing.

I am going to move the Happy Hours forward a half hour to 5:30PM, as many have early dinner.  The other passenger was there to get his Australian ETA done.  How he managed to board without it is beyond me.  The Holland America World Cruise department told me they would be denying boarding to anyone who didn’t have one.  I had pointed out that was silly because it was turned around in a day after application.  All it took was the applicant’s good self, his phone, passport and credit card.  He had all that. He just didn’t have a WiFi package, so I let him use mine.  We had the usual fun finding the appropriate background and the chip in the passport, but we got through all that.  Then it stopped us when it couldn’t verify our coordinates because we were on a ship in the middle of the Atlantic in gale force winds.  He was able to save his work and, hopefully, can finish in a Café in Southampton.  If not, I’ll go out with him at the next port.

Then I went sussing out dining venues for the group.  I found The Verandah Steakhouse for $50 per person, and one that alternates between Asian (Bamboo) and Indian (Coriander) for $25.  Now for dates.  Cunard does not supply a day-by-day list, with port arrival and departure times, like the other cruise lines.  I use it to record my DV events and add my own dinner dates, etc.  I was lost without it, so I requested one from the ship and started making one, using an Excel spreadsheet. 

I went to tea in the King’s Court, which is a royal name for the buffet.  I figured I would eat less if the pastries and scones weren’t being continually offered.  I had a piece of salami, a piece of cheese and two scones, better.  I met a Brit who explained that Devonshire folk load the cream on first and then the jam, while people from Cornwall put the jam on first and top it with the cream.  Wasn’t that enlightening?  I’m learning a lot.  On the way out I met my family of four, who have become buffet addicts because they are vegetarian and the buffet does that best.  I worked until happy hour, went to my designated bar, and no one came.  I bought a teddy bear, with a QM2 lifejacket on, to keep me company.  It will end up in Ginger’s Toy Tea, like the rest of them. 

Then I presented myself at the Britannia Dining room, willing to share.  They didn’t have a share table with open space but could put me at a table for two, between two other tables for two.  It turned up we were all girls and we had a marvelous time.  Janelle was retiring to England, and traveling with her retired service dog, a 14-year-old Black Lab/Border Collie mix.  Marilee was along for the ride.  Julie and Lucie were a British mother/daughter team.  We had lots of fun girl talk, until Janell, had to leave as it was time to walk Loki. There are quite a few dogs on board.  It’s a Cunard tradition.  Julie and Lucie and I went for a drink in the Chart Room, which was featuring Jazz, and met Stephanie, a French professor who had married a Brit.  All of these people are just using the ship as a very nice way to get across the pond.  The entertainment in the Royal Court (read: main theatre)  was William Caulfield, a pretty good Irish comedian.  The late show is at 10:15pm and lets out at eleven.  So good night.

January 6, no one came to office hour again.  I don’t hang around there too long past my time, because it’s freezing and the chair is so low I can barely reach my computer, so back to my room I went.  I found out later why it was so cold.  It was bloody snowing outside to the amazement of those who had never seen any.  Somebody even made a snowman:

I took that picture after tea, which I had in King’s Court again and managed to cut back to two pieces of cheese, a mango parfait and only one scone.  It held me until dinner.  I had more delightful female dinner partners, Fritz, who’s moving to the Cotswolds, where her family comes from, and her friend Holland, an interior designer.  We talked so long I missed half the show on the main stage.  She was a pianist, Katie Clarke.

It was still snowing the next day, out here in the middle of the North Atlantic, passing Newfoundland.  We went by the place where the Titanic sank.  Not sure how comforting it is that they still take the same route.  We are having quite stormy weather, with 40 foot swells, but the Queen Mary 2, ocean liner that she is, is handling it beautifully.  No one came to the desk but I was busy with client work, finishing the calendar to use for organizing purposes and creating the first newsletter. 

For dinner, I was matched up with Gladys and Elizabeth, her younger friend, a nurse by profession, who had come along as companion, and Pauline and Graham, a British couple, both electrical engineers.  Not quite sure how we got here but, amidst the talk of stabilizers and azipods,  Graham was able to enlighten me on how they got rid of the pigeons in Trafalgar Square.  They fed them contraceptives until the population just, well, died off.  They were doing Big Band music in the Queen’s Court, so Liz and Gladys and I went there in the pause before the show.  Ballroom is very big on Cunard and some of the dancers are really good.  One oriental lady, in particular, was very serious.  When first seen she was dancing with the Italian I had met at tea, and a little later, just twirling herself around the floor, very energetic, very correct – a little different, mind you. Fun to watch.

The Royal Court entertainment was interesting, too, Ukebox, another four guys from Liverpool and you can guess what instruments they were playing.  They aren’t the next Beatles, but they played a lot of good songs and it was a fun time.  I met one of my couples after the show and they wanted help buying canes.  The pitching and rolling ship had pointed out their limitations to them.  I volunteered to be their personal shopper in Southampton.

2024 – Queen Mary 2 Grand World– Part 1 – New York to Cape Town 1.0

New Year’s Day -Monday, January 1 2024, New York City

If anyone is wondering why I do this every year, I took this picture from a taxi in Westmount in December.

Dena took Robbie away yesterday on the second try.  I made the mistake of collaring him about an hour before and we never saw him again, except from our bellies on opposite sides of the bed.  No amount of coaxing, cooing, offering treats would move him.  The LBB is tough, I was poking him with a cane and Dena with a broom and we still couldn’t budge him.  She gave up and left.  About 20 minutes later he came out, slinking into the office.  I got up from my desk and moved very slowly towards him.  He didn’t move.  When I was directly above him, I pounced.  I haven’t had cats most of my life not to have learned how to hunt.  Into the bag he went, face first and I had it zipped up before he could turn around.  A quick phone call found Dena and John almost home.  They came back and got him.  I missed him all the rest of the day, but Dena reports Mickey, her Bichon Frisée, gave him a warm welcome. They chased each other around the house for a bit and flopped down on the bed together.  I’m sure Robbie wants a dog of his own, but that’s not happening.  I like this arrangement too much. 

Candy will notice her cup is being put to good use.  Robbie likes my smoothie breakfasts.  Check the picture on the cup.

Patrick and Rose and I had a nice celebratory dinner at Vago in lieu of a New Year’s Eve party because I was flying out very early on New Year’s Day.  I spent the 31^st packing my office and setting up my mail merges to communicate with my passengers.  By bedtime, I was as ready as I could be.  I turned the light off at eleven and on again when the alarm went off at 3:00 am.  At 3:45 am, I was in a taxi bound for the airport.  Then I got to go to my level and meditate for an hour and a half, with a lady coughing up a storm across the aisle.  Having been that person myself back in August, I felt for her.  I shut up and masked up.  So did the person sitting beside her.

The flight went well.  I priced an UBER and a yellow cab to Bryant Park and they were just about the same, so I took the cab, as there were plenty of them, right there.

I can’t remember who recommended The Bryant Park Hotel to me, but thank you.  It’s great.  It has some of the friendliest front desk staff I have ever met and that’s gold.  Over the years, I have learned to tip lavishly going in and everybody loves me.  Or maybe I am getting more lovable, as I mellow, or becoming more of a curiosity.  I have the supplies for my job shipped to the hotel and talk about what I do when I pick them up.  I think I recruited a new DV Host and Nexion Travel Advisor.  Josephine will be perfect.

I was exhausted but I cleared my email, collated my four shore excursions and loaded them into their folders.  Around two o’clock, I went out to get something to eat.  I don’t usually eat at all until four, but I don’t usually get up at three am, either.  There’s a Winter Village in Bryant Park.  I could see it from my hotel window.

It looks like it should be called a “Christmas Village” but everybody’s woke now.  There’s an ice skating rink and a big Christmas tree, and a zillion shops selling treats and chotzkis.  The first thing I came across was “Home Frite” which had all kinds of French fried creations, except poutine.  It had a long line up which was a good sign.  I continued on down to the corner, where I found apple cider doughnuts that smelled amazing.  So I had a five dollar doughnut because life is short, eat dessert first.  I moseyed on to the next corner and had the worst char siu bao I had ever had in my life, also for $5.  Then I circled back and had truffle fries with chipotle ranch dressing.  They really should have poutine. 

By this time, I was a total zombie, but I didn’t want to actually nap, so I had a long, hot bath and meditated for another hour, flat on the bed.  I might have slept part of the time, but not so’s I noticed.  I went out to eat at five, to a place called “Chili” that Scott, the Assistant Front Desk Manager, recommended.  It was good and would have been great with a few other people. Even shrimp get boring, when they are all you have.

I walked the four blocks back to the hotel, fell into bed and slept for twelve hours. 

I woke up feeling great and went straight to work.  By noon I had done everything I could do before boarding and meeting my Group Coordinator.  It looked like the cables I had brought were charging cables not sync or data cables because I couldn’t get my phone to transfer its pictures to my computer.  So, I went to Staples and bought a new one.  Then I hit CVS for some toiletries and went back to the hotel to save my walking ability for getting to the show and back.  I ate at Calle Dao on 39^th street, a Chinese Cuban restaurant, recommended by the Internet.  You’d think I wouldn’t make the same mistake twice, and I didn’t.  This place had a nice confit duck leg, served with bao and hoisin sauce that filled me nicely. 

I walked to the theatre, right through Times Square, and never felt remotely threatened.  It was bright and it was fun.  I wasn’t 100% happy with my choice of show, “SIX” about the wives of Henry VIII.  It was all-singing, all dancing, fabulous costumes, great lighting effects… but   If I want to see the same six women, singing and dancing, all I have to do is board a cruise ship, which I was just about to do.

I woke up feeling great and went straight to work, again.  Cunard had delivered some of what I needed for my welcome letters and the time on my meeting onboard, where I would get the rest.  Everything went smoothly, right through that meeting and I was ready to print and deliver by 6:45pm, probably a new record for me.  That was when the rudder came off.  Our classy letterhead was so thick it jammed the printer, and the label stock did even worse things.  At 9:15PM when I was late for my 8:30 pm dinner booking, I let the front desk know that I’d go eat and come back for the printing.  I did that and it seemed to go well, until I got it upstairs and realized that the poor desk clerk must have got flustered by all the trouble and had printed the letters double sided – which won’t work because each side had to be put into a folder.  The document which was supposed to be 2-sided never got printed at all.  The night duty manager finally got the job done properly and I made my deliveries around 11:00pm.  That was a record, too, and I hope I never break it.  I did have a stunning floral arrangement to look at during all the waiting, though. 

With the shape our poor beloved world is in, I can only be glad I am no longer in a position to do a blessed thing about it.  So I do what little I can, enriching cruises for fortunate people.  Wellll, they DO appreciate what I do and I have fun doing it.

Too many people are dying on me, good friends like Pat Finot, Joan Westgate, Ellen Morneau. Denis Mavrias, Chris Wendlandt and my most dear cousin Rosemary, who was like a sister, as we are/were both only children.  I shall miss you all.

I rejoice in the fact that I have ties to the new generation and it’s delightful.  It visits me and enjoys my super downtown apartment.  This year I welcomed Rosemary’s granddaughters, Sarah and Lily Sidorchuk, both studying at Queen’s, who were a lot of fun.  I especially enjoyed taking Sarah, as my date, to a Danse, Danse performance.  Live entertainment is my passion and, thanks to Pat Finot, I have a great fondness for modern dance. Then I have Jacqui Wong, Pam Ip’s daughter, who is at McGill and a more regular dinner date.  Our last one was the best, St. Hubert BBQ and “Pub Royale” in Theatre Maisonneuve, Place des Arts.  Pub Royal is a musical, homage to Les Cowboys Fringants, Quebec’s favorite local rock group.  Jacquie got a good dose of Quebec culture from the singers, dancers and circus acrobats.  Montreal, home to Cirque du Soleil, has theatre schools, and employs their graduates.  I am sharing my expensive habits with these kids and they are taking to them like ducks to water.  But they are all good students and I have no fear that they won’t be able to pay for live entertainment, once they graduate.  Rosemary has one more granddaughter, Jenny Sidorchuk, who will be in University too, soon.  I hope this is making her envious enough to come next year.  I am pretty sure it will. 

I saw most of my friends this year, as travel got back to normal.  I had more than four months of my very favorite cruise buddies on Holland America’s ms Zuiderdam, from January to mid-May.  I was only home long enough to do my taxes and pay my fines and balances.  In mid-July, I was off to California for a month of visiting friends before flying to Anchorage to join my next assignment.  If you missed my blogs, you can read all the back issues on www.helenmegan.com I am not going to repeat myself.

I came back from Vancouver in mid-August, with COVID, of course.  I coughed all the way home on the plane but didn’t bother testing, as it was over as fast as it came.  I would never have known I had it, if it weren’t for the pre-op routine for gallbladder surgery.  So much for that and back on the list with the gallbladder thing hanging over me like the sword of Damocles.  After seven hours, with my butt hanging out, in a waiting room, at the Montreal General Hospital on November 17, the thing finally came out on December 8.  Yes, I’m fine, thank you.  I was fine the day after.

Fall was busy.  I did get US visitors and the theatres delivered all kinds of great entertainment, while the restaurants served yummy meals.  I took a McGill Lifelong Learning course called “Inside The New Yorker” which was a lot of fun and challenged me to present an article and a story.  These McGill classes are full of retired professors, so that was intimidating, but I found a way out of it.  I picked Salman Rushdie, for the subject of the article, and the author of the story.  And, I took up Bridge again.  There’s a nice group that meets every second Tuesday afternoon at the McGill Faculty Club, which I get to frequent because I am leaving money to McGill when I die and happened to tell the right person.  Now I enjoy happy hours, elegant dinners and this very nice Bridge group.

I just upped my legacy gift to McGill as the little thing I could do to try to balance an extreme injustice that is currently going on in the province of Quebec.  In it’s zeal to protect the French language, it is now attacking our institutions of higher learning, including my Alma Mater.  I won’t bore you with the details.  I am sure you can find them on the Internet.  There are teachers and nurses’ strikes going on almost every day here, and I sure hope the situations get resolved.  It could be worse.  It could be Gaza or the Ukraine.  God bless all who suffer and I pray for a better world.

Montreal being Montreal, there is still a lot of fun to be had and I have promised myself to stay home from May to mid-August to enjoy our festivals, laughs, jazz, country music, folk music, rock, pop, franco-folies, Formula 1 races, circuses and all kinds of silliness.  I highly recommend that you come and play with me. 

With best wishes for a Merry Christmas and  Happy, Healthy New Year

Love and Purrs,

Helen and Robbie

2023 -1- Go West Old Gal 6.0 Vancouver

It’s about time I finished logging the last trip. I am about to leave again, but just for a week.  It’s a business meeting at sea and I won’t be reporting it, well, maybe the before and after.  We’ll see. 

On Saturday, August 5, we disembarked in Vancouver and Pat Harrold picked me up right in the Cruise Terminal’s parking lot.  Pat and Paul have made the downtown condo move, too, like me, the Laskers, et al.  Last stop before the Home, or, if you’re me, between Homes.  Vancouver has an up-and-coming new area called Yaletown.  It’s , downtown, right by the water.  That is to say, very near the cruise port.  They are on the 12th floor, just like me, only their view is a lot better, and mine isn’t shabby.  Check this sunset from my Vancouver bedroom at their place:

Pat and I took a walk around the neighborhood and we all caught up.  Pat and Paul live in an owner-occupied building, which is certainly the way to go, if you can find one.  Things get fixed there before they even notice them.  This is not true of all their neighboring buildings, some of which are the famous Vancouver leaky buildings.  They went up too fast, had problems and now the occupants have to live with the likes of this, while the problems are fixed, also taken from my bedroom.  It wouldn’t look so nice from behind that blue curtain.

In the evening Vicki Hansford met us for dinner at a local Thai Restaurant.  We ate outside and the food was delicious.  The company was even better.  Pat and Paul and Vicki and Helen found ever so much to talk about, and the subjects ranged all over the world. 

The next day, August 7, was Sunday and Vancouver was hosting its Pride parade.  It’s a big one.  Everybody, but everybody wants to get into the act now, the banks, insurance companies, Air Canada, Durex (!), charities, everybody.  Pat and I walked about two minutes to our vantage point and spent about two hours enjoying the parade.  We finally left because my ankle was killing me and there’s only so much you can see before it gets repetitious. 

Interesting and colorful, though.  It was a lot of fun and good to see. 

That night we had dinner at Shanghai Lu.  Vancouver has a great Chinatown and a lot of wonderful Chinese restaurants.  This is one of Sam Wong’s favorites, so he set it up.  I love mixing up my friends from all over the world, whom I meet all over the world.  Some of you might recognize some of these people:

Jan Magnolo, Gerard Darnel, Glen Reid, moi, Pat Harrold, Sam Wong, Pam Ip, Vicki Hansford.  We had the Beijing duck and all and we left stuffed and happy.  Pat is the oldest friend there, from IBM days in Montreal, Pam was my first employee in Hong Kong, Sam is her husband, and the rest are cruise buddies, from as far back as 2012. It’s so worth keeping in touch.  You get to have wonderful times, like this.

Monday was a holiday, so Sam was free to drive Pam and I out to Squamish, to see what’s happening there.  Well, it’s turning into a tourist town in the mountains.  The scenery going and coming was magnificent and the ice cream treats divine.  The vegan chocolate milk shake was something else.

We went back to Pam and Sam’s house, for a glass of wine on the back balcony, and out for dinner with her whole family at Shaughnessy Golf Club.  It’s a gorgeous place, a waterfront golf club.  Unfortunately for its members, it’s sitting on indigenous land that was only leased and has to be given back in ten years or so.  It will likely be turned into an estate of high rise condominiums.  It’s monumentally sad, but the indigenous people are entitled to the profits from their land.  I hope the money gets spread around fairly.  Check this out for a fabulous place to enjoy dinner on a summer’s evening.

That’s Pam, moi, Leith, Kingston (Pam’s brother) Jacqui (my McGill student friend), Maggie and Kelly Ip (Pam’s parents).  What a wonderful way to end a great stay in Vancouver. 

I’ll be back there the day after tomorrow and again in September 2024, when I am hosting a SilverSea cruise from Vancouver to Tokyo.  I would love for more of you to come along with me.  Find it at Cruise from Vancouver to Tokyo – SN240912018 | Silversea.  I’d be happy to tee up an extension in Tokyo, if anyone signs up and wants it. 

And let’s not forget Cunard’s 2024 World Cruise on the Queen Mary II, with me.  If the whole world is a bit much, there are some very interesting segments.  Talk to me!   NYC to NYC 123 nights – Full World Voyage – January 2024 – Cunard 

My plane from SFO to Anchorage touched down late at night on Sunday, July 23.  I checked into the Hotel Captain Cook.  It was after 11 and all the food outlets in the hotel were closed.  Bummer.  I was famished.  I had eaten everything they had given me on the plane, but it wasn’t much.  The desk clerk told me there was a Russian dumpling shop across the street that was open until midnight, so I dropped my bags in my room and out I went, as fast as I could.

Like everything Russian, it wasn’t very well lit. So, while I was walking along, where I thought might be across the street from it, and squinting at a sign, I tripped and went down – splat.  I landed on my left teat, knee, and pinky finger.  I knew enough to throw myself left after last year’s fall had me on crutches for a day.  I must not fall on my much reconstructed right knee.  I digress, but you should know this.  The Mohs surgery I had on my nose last year left a scar because, instead of taking proper care of it post-op, I was waiting in emerg to have my knee X-Rayed, since I couldn’t walk.  The doc on duty at 10:00 pm, gave up on trying to read it.  There were so many lines going every which way on it, thanks to the comminuted supracondylar and intercondylar fracture of the right distal femur that I suffered at age 23, and had repaired, twice.  The knee wasn’t broken.  I figured that out for myself when it started getting better in the evening.

Anyway, this was a good fall.  The person manning the dumpling shop helped pick me up, fed me and all was well.  I had a fabulous night’s sleep. 

On Monday, July 24, I was glad I had come in early, it gave me time to work in peace.  My supplies had arrived, and the hotel had a business center, where printing was even free.  I had no trouble making up my Welcome Packets and, because this was a cruise tour, I included an invitation to join me for a drink on the night before it started, July 25.

I broke my fast at 4:00 pm in Fletcher’s, the Hotel Bar, with a very good clam chowder.  Then I went for a long walk and back there later for a pizza and a piece of mud pie. 

Once I had cleared my email on Tuesday, July 25,  and delivered my welcome packets safely into the hands of the Princess representatives in the hotel, I was free to tour Anchorage.  The Princess people were happy to have more goodies to deliver to their guests.  I chose the trolley ride for my orientation.  It featured a live guide, who was delightful.  She told us Alaska is actually one-fifth the size of the whole continental USA and has more coastline.  But it only has 300,000 inhabitants.  It was discovered in 1776 by Captain James Cook and changed hands a number of times before the Russians sold it to the United States in 1867.  They figured they had taken everything of value that it had – mostly furs.  It would have made more sense if Canada had bought it, but we were a tad late there, probably busy becoming a country. 

Our guide’s patter was fascinating and I learned a lot, which you’ll need to visit yourselves to find out, or read a book, because that’s not what this blog does.  It does get personal, though, and I am pleased to report that our female guide caught a 123-lb halibut last year.  It took three people to bring it aboard.  The reason she was so proud of that is because it was a major factor in how well she and her boyfriend ate last winter. 

Alaska has its share of wildfires, over a million acres burned last year, and earthquakes, too, lots of them.  A big one hit a suburb of Anchorage, where they made a human chain and saved all but three people. It had happened at 5:30PM on Good Friday, when everybody was at home. They don’t have a lot of roads, so pretty much every family has at least one plane.  The average age of a private plane is 51.  They build them from kits and just keep fixing them.  Most people have pilot’s licenses.  Some just fly without them.  The stories about all the alcohol available during prohibition, and the working girls, are mostly true. There’s only a 90-day growing season, but it’s light for almost 24 hours.  They grow some huge veggies under those conditions and moose love pumpkins. 

I puttered around the shops for an hour or so.  Andrea Fairchild, my roommate from Magog, in the Eastern Townships southeast of Montreal, arrived late afternoon and mustered for our happy hour in the Crow’s Nest of the Captain Cook at five pm.  We were joined by one of our family groups, six people, three generations. They were delightful.  Then Andrea and I had dinner in the adjacent restaurant and it was lovely, fresh and fishy.

The real adventure began on Wednesday, July 26Anchorage to McKinley.  We boarded one coach and Owen Johnson, patriarch for a group of eleven, was sitting in the front seat with his wife, Joyce.  Our bus driver was a real wag and brought “Mr. Johnson” into his commentary on a very regular basis.  If I had not had his name on my manifest, I might have thought the bus driver had invented him.  Besides the eleven people in the Johnson family, and the other family of six, there are just three independent couples.  We got to meet most of them but we weren’t really doing anything together except riding a bus, with a very good driver guide.  We checked into the Mt. McKinley Princess Wilderness Lodge around lunchtime and had the afternoon to enjoy the place.  I didn’t see how to plan anything, when everyone had different tours, or not, and most of the tours went right through cocktail hour.  It was awkward.  So we went out drinking and eating and chatted with whomever we met.  No one needed us. 

Thursday, July 27 was another day like the last one, only McKinley to Denali.  More scenery from a bus.  Pleasant enough.  We are getting to know our people as we ride along with them.  It’s clear that there are family dynamics at play and they are fun ones.  The lodges at both ends were very nice. We have two nights at Denali.  I had thought we would be able to make a group dinner out of the voucher for Fannie Q’s Saloon but that didn’t happen either as people had different tours booked and different diner times.  We did circulate through the Saloon and had nice little chats with a number of people, and all was going well. 

Friday, July 28, was our big day in Denali.  We all had our separate breakfasts at King Salmon Restaurant and they were outstanding.  The Lodges really do breakfast well, so well I break my fast to have them.  These were blueberry pancakes – yum.  Well stuffed, we piled onto our bus for Jeff King’s Husky Homestead and our Distinctive Voyages Tour.  It was probably the best DV tour I have ever had to offer in a dozen years of hosting. 

Jeff King himself, the four time Ititarod champion, was there to talk to us along with Amanda Otto who’s still young and looking for her first win.  They explained and demonstrated how they train the dogs and talked about the hardships they endure in this grueling 1100-mile race across the frozen tundra.

The big hits, of course, were the puppies, which we were all encouraged to pick up and cuddle, as part of their socialization training.  We didn’t need to be coaxed.  They were adorable:

I have a lot of puppy pictures.  I also bought Jeff King’s book about his experiences.  It’s a very good read.

Husky Homestead is very close to the Denali Princess Wilderness Lodge, so it was back there for a quick lunch and back on the road for our Tundra Wilderness Tour.  This was another one with an engaging tour guide who had a lot of stories about how they live in Alaska among the moose, ptarmigan, dall sheep, ground squirrels, spruce grouse and golden eagles, all of which we saw.  We didn’t see a bear, but we were sure there were some out there.  It was a very good day.

On Saturday, July 29 it was time for our all-day train ride through the wilderness to Denali to Whittier, where we would board our ship, the Majestic Princess.  We had to have our bags out by 6:00 am and breakfast over by 7:30 am, so I skipped it.  The train departs Denali National Park at 8:15 am and arrives in Whittier at 6:00 pm for an 8:30 pm sailaway.  Of course, it’s still light out in Alaska at that time in July. 

Our train car steward and barman were a lot of fun and had a lot of interesting information to impart, along with the delicious libations, which you had to pay for.  I bought everyone a drink on the train, to make up for the lack of a DV cocktail party.  We only had 23 pax in the group (plus 2 kids) and Princess would have wanted 32 to give us that.  Never mind, the train was as close to a party as we were going to get.  We did have a lot of fun chatting with the group, though.  The scenery was stunning, and the time passed easily. 

When we got to Whittier, it was a short walk to the ship for the easiest embark, ever.  Princess had checked us in on the train and given us our medallions, which opened our doors and bought us anything our little hearts could desire. 

Everyone was just exhausted after a whole day on the train, so we had ourselves a nice dinner in Allegro, one of the three main dining rooms, and turned in.

We slept in until nine or so on Sunday, July 30 and got up slowly.  We were cruising Hubbard Glacier with Ranger commentary.  The ship is enormous, she takes about 3,500 passengers and has three dining rooms, as well as eight other places to eat and ten bars. We had ourselves a little look around and I emailed the group, so we would all be able to communicate.

Andrea and I went to the singles party, which is every night on this sailing but either all the great guys got snapped up last night or there was only one.  He was nice enough but he was an Australian farmer.  None of us saw any future in that.  We had dinner in Concerto and liked it a little better than Allegro, but not much is different, except the color scheme.  Andrea and I are eating alone and are beginning to wonder if that’s such a great idea.  Luckily we get along well.

Only two ships a day are allowed to enter Glacier Bay, administered by the National Park Service and Monday, July 31 was our day.  It was a nice clear day so there was plenty to see.  As usual, I had a lot to do, so I didn’t give it my full attention, but we did leave the commentary playing in the room and I went out when it got most interesting.  Andrea saw a good bit more. 

I managed to write and deliver a letter to my people and at 5:30 pm, we were in the Crown Grill Bar, as advertised, and we were there alone.  We had dinner in Symphony, the third dining room and now know we like Concerto best.  The comedian, after dinner was Steve Moris and he was good.

Finally, on Tuesday, August 1, we docked in Icy Strait Point.  The Princess nightly missive warned us that we would be sharing a berth with another ship, which meant that we would be docked until noon, stranded ashore from noon to 1:00 pm, while the ship relocated to a mooring, and tendering in the afternoon.  Andrea and I figured we could see the place in an hour and be back on board by noon, and we were.  Methinks Alaska is getting a tad crowded, though, given what it is. 

We ate at Concerto again and took in the production show, Sweet Soul Music, which was better than the first.

On Wednesday, August 2, Andrea and I went out and enjoyed Juneau.  We shopped a little and walked up and down the streets, poking our noses into a museum at one point.  It’s not a big town.  Here it is from our own verandah. 

I started sending out the puppy pictures, from Husky Homestead in the afternoon.  When 5:30 rolled around, we went to the Crown Grill Bar, but nobody came.  We had dinner in Concerto again and the comedian was Michael Joiner, whom I also liked.

On Thursday, August 3, in Ketchikan, Alaska, we were sharing a berth again, so I worked in the morning when we were tendering and went out in the afternoon, once we were docked.  Early in the day I finished sending out the puppy pictures. 

Then we went out in Ketchican where I can highly recommend a little museum up a hill, The Tongass Historical Museum, where I took this interesting picture:

The featured artist, Ray Troll, and an archaeologist, Kirk Johnson, took a multi year trip in a van, discovering all kinds of fossils and depicting them with his whimsical art.  It’s fabulous.  I bought his book and gave it away, so I had to go looking for his name.  You’ll find more of this fun art at Ray Troll Art Home | Art, Science, Music, News, T-shirts, Books, and more  

Especially 2010-Recent – Troll Art

Then Andrea and I went to Harmony for the Chinese dinner I was kind of glad no one joined us for.  It wasn’t all that authentic.  The next day, Friday, August 4, was a sea day and I did have an office hour.  I has offered boarding passes from my computer and that got a couple of takers, one of which would have to be postponed to Happy Hour because the flight was at 4pm tomorrow. 

In the afternoon, I got a very cool email from one of the passengers with this sweet picture:  

Later in Crown Grill Bar, there were three couples at happy hour, and I was busy making boarding passes for one of them, so I was happy to have a co-host.   We learned why I hadn’t seen hardly anyone after we boarded.  A lot of my big family group had been sick with various illnesses.  So sad.  Knowing them, they still managed to have some fun, though.  Andrea and I ate alone again and took in the last production show, which was very good. 

On Saturday, August 5, we docked in Vancouver, B.C., bade our fond farewells and disembarked.  Pat Harrold picked me up in the terminal parking lot and I was off on the last phase of this adventure.   

2023 – Go West Old Gal – 4.1 Sonoma

On Wednesday morning, July 19, I bade the Mendelsons a fond farewell and pointed the Beemer towards Sonoma, with some other cruise line’s on-hold music in my ear.  My last California residence had been Fountaingrove Lodge in Santa Rosa.  There I had made a wonderful new friend, who had become my date for all the live entertainment we both liked and supported.  Pat Finot was a choreographer with a PhD in Dance, who taught it at the University level.  She had great insights as well as being a seriously amusing companion.  When she left us, last year, she willed me her pearls, for something to treasure.  In the package, her brother, Bill Remick, enclosed an invitation to come occupy their guest house, when next I came to visit Fountaingrove Lodge.  Bill is an architect, who has built a large number of high-end homes in his time, including his own, in Glen Ellen.  The first one went up in smoke in 2017, along with a fabulous art collection, I’m told by my FGL friends, who were lucky enough to be there when Pat took a group on tour. 

It has risen from the ashes and my little housie for four days was wonderful, as was its view. 

I would be very happy there, but I could not tarry, as I was expected at Fountaingrove Lodge by 4:00pm.  I just had time for a tour of the main house, which is fab, before I had to go.  I spent some time at Wine Wednesday, with a bunch of my old Lodge friends.  It was always our favorite day of the week there.  Around 5:00pm I drove Pat and Mike and Pat and Toby to Paradise Ridge Winery, which had also risen from its ashes and now hosted Wednesday sunsets, with live bands and a Mexican food truck.  We joined their new friends, Richard, Daniel, Rob and Nancy at a choice table between the band and the spectacular view.  It was yet another birthday celebration for Mike:

I begged off of everything the next day to catch up on my work and blog, now that I had a little house all to myself.  I’m very social, but even I need a bit of quiet time to recharge and get stuff done.  Like this blog.  I had made a couple of small orders on Prime Day, like the Samsung Galaxy Buds2 Pro for $100 less, training wheels for hearing aids.  I didn’t have time to try them, and I found out why they were so cheap.  The manual was in Polish and a couple of other Cyrillic languages, all of which defeated me.  I went online, of course, which told me how to get the app, and I did that, too, but I didn’t take the time to do much with it.  I’ll get there.

It was another gastronomically delightful dinner.  I walked over to the main house to have a glass of wine with Bill and Sue and, because there’s road work on highway 12, Bill drove us over the backroads to Healdsburg.  It was a beautiful drive, but I was just as glad Bill was doing it rather than moi.  Local knowledge is a great thing on windy canyon roads.  Canyon may be an exaggeration, but it was abundantly hilly, for sure.  Our chosen restaurant was Barndiva, not quite Single Thread, which wanted me to pay three times as much, and up front, with no refunds within 48 hours.  Barndiva was more reasonable and pay as you eat, which is as it should be.  We ate in the garden, which has lights and heaters and is decked out like a leprechaun’s home, as I would imagine it.  Here are the appies:

The mains:

 And the amazing Paris Brest, with its gold-covered hazelnuts:

And, no, I didn’t do anything intelligent like get a picture of the people.  Five years from now, they’ll be a lot more important to me than the food, but not that night, while I was eating it.  I just spent twenty minutes trying to find a great picture of Bill’s sister, Pat Finot, with John Kennedy, Bill Baird and me, at Miner Winery, on one of our jazz excursions to Napa.  I thought I had a great picture filing system.  Well, I don’t.  Sorry, Bill.  If I ever come across it…..

The next day was Friday, July 21, and I went to Fountaingrove Lodge for a birthday lunch which was all very nice and reminded me what good friends I had made there.  I followed that with a nice massage from Jeff Rooney, who used to get to beat me up at least once a month.  He’s good.  The Lodge is lucky.  Early evening found me with Pat and Mike at Salt & Stone in Kenwood, having dinner with Mike Nash and Cliff Wildeman, more Lodge alumni and special friends of ours.  We ate outside on a perfect night and I don’t have any bloody pictures of them, either.  I truly do need to smarten up, but we were having such a good time…

It got even better the next day, and earlier.  Pat, Mike and I went on Safari, ten minutes from the Lodge.  The place is called Safari West and it’s a wonderful outing.  It can even be an overnight, they have Safari tents and all that stuff.   There are 1100 animals, over a hundred species and God knows how many birds.  Most of them are rescues from zoos, illegal keepers of exotic pets, you-name-it.  The owners are very devoted.  The guy sent his wife home the night of our fires, with the office computers and records, while he single-handedly fought the fire, dousing every burning bush that landed on any of the buildings.  It was written up in the Santa Rosa Press Democrat. I remember reading it.  You’d never know it now.  The place looks better than ever and I guess the animals are as happy as can be, given that they are not home in Africa.  At least they’re safe, well fed and have a lot of space to relax in.  I like the ostrich:

He’s so impossible looking.  And the zebras are beautiful:

We also saw oryx, gemsboks, wildebeest, impalas, cape buffalo, waterbucks, giraffes and a bunch I didn’t write down.  But this is the little guy we came to see, Otto, the baby Rhino, born here a little over a month ago, with his mother Eusha.  Yes, he’s a 200 lb. baby.:

They keep his dad in a separate enclosure for fear of domestic violence, I guess.

It was a very nice day.  Pat took Mike back for a nap and I went to Glen Ellen to pack up, because I would be leaving straight from brunch the next day.  Dinner was at the Lodge with Pat & Mike, Leona & Norm, and John Mullen, still too dumb to take pictures. 

Sunday at FGL means Brunch and on the Lanai at FGL if possible.  Look at this setting:

Tricia Harrold came up from Silicon Valley Tom Slade was in from Canada, Mike Donigan and Kit Kurtz  came back, too, and I brought Bill and Sue from Glen Ellen.  There were a bunch more friends inside, too.  I miss that place, and its good people.  Too soon, I had to leave – North to Alaska.

How fitting that my last post featured Joan Westgate.  I was dying to get to Alaska to meet an old acquaintance of hers.  You’ll read about that when I get to July 28.  I am way behind.  The sad news is that Joanie died on July 24.  She suffered a massive stroke the day before and left elegantly, with dispatch, with her loving family around, like the class act she has always been.  She will be sorely missed and always loved.  She would have celebrated her 90^th birthday on August 27.  Elise Currey sent me this photo to treasure.  It  was taken on July 11.

On Saturday, July 15, I got into the car and drove to San Francisco.  It’s a beautiful drive through Carneros and over the Golden Gate bridge.  I spent the entire time on the phone working with Flights by Celebrity, only to hang up with the job unfinished for reasons with which I won’t bore you. I just want you to know, I do earn my money.  But, I have to admit, the working conditions ain’t bad. 

Google maps delivered me to a lane beside the Laskers’ building called “Fern”.  I called in and Dave waved to me from the balcony and came down with Caroline to take my bags up to my next billet.  On to The Towers, San Francisco’s ritziest assisted living.  It took me three tries to park the car in the guest space, so I wouldn’t have to look for another skinny friend to back it out.  That accomplished, I made my way up the elevator to a washroom and the front desk, where I had to create a nametag for myself at a little workstation.  Small price to pay for good, safe parking in San Francisco.  Chris had arranged it, because there was none available in Laskers’ building, and The Towers was only a block away.  I couldn’t leave the car on the street or even in a public garage, because it is a new BMW with Florida plates.  That screams “rich tourist” and makes it a target for break-in, you see.  I don’t know about the “rich tourist” part, but it would have been mightily inconvenient to lose my computer at this point. 

Chris Silver came down to meet me and take me up to their apartment, where Larry and her friend, Karin Irvin, were waiting.  We had a nice little chat, called a taxi and went down to meet it.  It was taking us to the Orpheum to see Les Misérables.  Karen and I had both seen it soon after it came out in 1985.  It’s now the longest running musical in London’s West End, which is where I saw it around 1990, with my mother, on one of her “last trips”.  There were quite a few of them, and I paid for all of them but, as Karen pointed out, I did inherit the money she saved.  As for this iteration, I liked it just fine but Chris found there was just too much of it.  When you think about it, she has a point, but I was happy. 

We took an UBER back to The Towers, where we had wine and cheese appetizers and dinner in the dining room.  Like everybody else, they are short-staffed after COVID, but have found a very modern solution.  Our meals were carried out to the dining room by robots, so the servers could just stay there and, well, serve.  Yes, I was too dumb to take a picture, again. 

It was still light after dinner, so Karen and Chris walked me the block over to Laskers’ condo apartment.  Val and Dave were just finishing dinner, so I had a glass of wine with them and turned in to my luxurious digs.  I love staying with good friends and am very grateful that they are willing to have me.  I was sorry this was my last night with them.  Check out the view, subtract the fog with your minds and think about these lucky dogs.

The day after was Sunday, the 16^th and my next hosts, Melinda and Ralph Mendelson, were picking me up at noon to go see “Dear San Francisco” a circus show playing at Club Fugazi.  It’s a show born in Montreal, from Les 7 Doigts de la Main, using mostly performers with Bay Area connections.  It was obvious they loved their jobs.

After the show, we walked around North Beach for a bit, stopping into Lawrence Ferlingetti’s bookstore “City Lights”, killing time before our dinner reservation. 

I have gone and forgotten the name of the restaurant, but it’s an old local favorite from back when Melinda and Ralph lived in the City and it’s always packed.  It’s high quality local seafood, Italian cuisine, complete with attitude and no nonsense.  It was delicious.  Ralph had seafood pasta and Melinda and I had sole, nicely washed down with a crisp white wine.  Then they took me back to my car in The Towers, and I picked up my luggage at Laskers and kept Melinda with me, as a guide to their Point Richmond place, which I had not been to before. 

I have seen quite a few nice Mendelson houses, starting with Pedregal in St. Helena.  They have all been lovely and all have been home to outstanding glass art as evidenced by this photo:

Yes, that’s a real Chihuly in the foreground.  It spread out over an area twice this size in St. Helena, as there are many smaller pieces inside the three big ones.  They bought it in the 1980’s, and it just may be their very best performing investment.  At one point, their St. Helena cleaning lady broke a piece, and you can imagine how she felt.  She need not have worried.  Ralph called up Dale Chihuly himself and asked what the one piece was worth.  Chihuly said $25,000.  Ralph reported this to their insurance company, and they cut him a check.  Then Ralph and Melinda took that check shopping for more glass art from up-and-coming artists.  They have never missed the missing piece that was worth more than they paid for the whole thing in the first place.  I just love this story.

They have a pretty spectacular view, too, if it weren’t for the fog.  On a good day, you can see the San Francisco skyline and the Golden Gate bridge.  I could have had a whole apartment on the lower floor, but my ankle was acting up and I didn’t feature the stairs, so I took the ground floor guest room, which was very comfortable.  One morning I got up, took the door from my room to the courtyard, and out the front gate for a picture of this spectacular bougainvillea:

I worked the first morning, until I heard chopping noises coming from the kitchen.  I knew that was my cue to go up there and help as we were having the Women’s Technical Wine Group the next day.  This particular tasting had been postponed from the winter and its menu included a hearty soup, made from scratch.  I went up to the kitchen to fulfill my promise to be Melinda’s sous-chef.  So I chopped or diced two onions, three zucchinis, one kohlrabi bulb, a big yellow pepper, three big potatoes, and a pile of green beans on the diagonal.  Melinda had sliced the carrots before I got there.

We went out to dinner that night, right in Point Richmond, at the Hotel MAC, just reopened four days ago.  There were still balloons all over the place.  The ambience was old country hotel lovely and the food was good.  The wait staff lacked training, though, so we did our best to supply it.  We made it an early night because we had big doings in the morning, hosting the Women’s Technical Wine Group. 

This was a very unique tasting and a full departure from six bottles same varietal, same year general rule.  We have often broken it before but never like this.  We were trying the wines of Georgia, the country, not the state.  Here’s Melinda trying to explain:

Take a look at the wines, for starters, two whites, one of them sparkling and cloudy, two reds, and two oranges.  The Georgians have been making wine for 8,000 years and they are very happy with what they produce.  We didn’t find any keepers, but to each his own.  They ferment, age and store the wine in huge earthenware vessels called “kvevris”.  They use particular clay and coat the insides of the kvevris with wax.  We found a lot of off flavors, that might just be attributable to the wax.  Georgia won’t be replacing Napa wines any time soon, but, to each his own and we learned a lot.  So, thanks, Melinda.

And more thanks for dinner at the very famous Chez Panisse Café, in Berkeley, where the wait staff are trained to perfection and they turn the tables smartly, without making you feel rushed.  Alice waters wouldn’t have it any other way.  It’s tough to succeed in the restaurant business but this 50 year old restaurant makes it look easy.  I wish I could remember what I ate.  It was wonderful as was the apricot galette it finished with, and my hosts Ralph and Melinda. 

2023 – Go West Old Gal – 2.3 – Napa

On Wednesday, July 12^th, I finally found time to do some errands that had been hanging on to my “To Do” list for too long.  I now have an address at Chase Bank that should work for my US online shopping.  That has been hit and miss for a long time and when it hit Open Table I had to act.  I also wanted to get Chase to stop presenting me with phone numbers to text security codes to – numbers that I had not been near in dog’s years.  The friendly banker, who saw me immediately, wasn’t very technical, nor much help.  I just have to pray I never lose the one and only phone number that works. 

I didn’t get the best service at T-Mobile, either, or maybe I did.  The guy didn’t want to sell me a new phone.  Huh?  Mine is four years old, but nope.  “If it’s running well, why change it?”  He didn’t have the Samsung Pro2 Earbuds I wanted either, in any color other than black and agreed that white would be much better with my hair.  OK I bought them from Amazon for $100 less.  So far so good. 

Chico’s didn’t have navy blue leggings, but Target did and YoBelle made a good breakfast for me around 3:30 pm.  Then I called Elise Currey and had her meet me at Joan Westgate’s retirement home, Watermark.  Joan has a lovely apartment overlooking her garden plot full of roses, and Justin Sienna High School’s football field.  That all works.  She also has Cyrus, a big old white cat with the longest, softest, fluffiest fur you can imagine and a personality to match.  Check them out.

A little after five her phone rang, she was being picked up to go to what sounded like a very interesting lecture.  So our little confab broke up and I was on to my next adventure. 

Gail Silvestri had invited me for dinner at the Silverado Grill.  Merci, Gail.  We, too had much to talk about over a fried chicken sandwich, decadent desserts and my third bottle of Stephen Goldberg’s Harvey & Harriett.  I had given the second to the Laskers to enjoy, while I was having dinner with Terry and France.  Good stuff doesn’t last long.  Gail was pleased to discover it, too.  Back “home” at Laskers’, Dave and Caroline posed for what Val calls “puppy porn”.  She has a point.

Looks like I dodged another round of bad weather in Montreal on Thursday, July 13.  A tornado touched down near Mirabel about thirty miles north, and caused flooding, power outages, and the like all the way into the city.  I was working away in my office at Laskers’ and we had an amazing dinner outing planned. 

We were going to Michael Warring at Hiddenbrook in Vallejo and we used UBER, as it included a wine pairing (the restaurant, not UBER).  We drove to Kathy Fitzgerald’s house, just outside of Silverado and got the ride from there.  Michael is a young chef, trained at the C.I.A., and an alum of Auberge du Soleil and Bouchon.  It’s a tiny little restaurant, serves 20 max, if the participants arrive in the correct configuration.  It’s Michelin rated and is always sold out.  There were only 18 our night, though, just the way it happened.  Believe it or not, we knew two of them.  Stacey and Bob Bressler were holding down the 6-top with their two guests.  Stacey was our boss, when we worked the Wine Auction, back in the day, and Val had worked with Bob Bressler at Cisco.  It was fun to see them.

What a night it was.  We had seven beautiful, very soignée courses.  Food like The French Laundry, without the white tablecloths, and extra waitstaff.  There were exactly one chef and one server and she helped with the plating, too. 

I took these pictures from my seat at the counter.  We were the last group to arrive and landed the best seats in the house.  I had to request a box, because bar stools do me in, but she found me the one the sous-vide came in, and it fit perfectly.  Val and I shared it and were just fine. 

Yes, that’s Michael working away.  He did that all night.  The two of them were incredible.  Our table mates graciously allowed me to share this picture of the presentation act, which duties were shared by Michael and his server.

The whole thing was incredible and so was the price.  It was $124 for the 7 course menu, plus $72 for the pairing. Some of the courses were really 3 in 1.  Valerie counted eleven total.  Here’s some of the pretty food:

Yes, those are shaved truffles.

More theatre.

And it was all delicious.  He even had me eating my veggies. 

The Laskers left for the city early on July 14, but I had just a little more to do in Napa.  Marlene and Stan Rosenberg had a little party for me in Silverado Oaks, where we used to live.  Many thanks to them.  Our old place didn’t burn down, but it has a fresh coat of paint and is missing a couple of trees, including the one we used to tie Henry and Sylly P to.

Some of our old Redwoods did survive, and, though not too beautiful, are a testament to the resilience of nature, and no one will part with them. 

Carole Kelly took me to dinner at Celadon and had ordered the calamari before I even got there.  I had missed it badly.  Thank you Carole, for taking me to what is probably still my Napa favorite, but there are a ton of them.  I missed La Toque, Carpe Diem, and everybody up valley.  I might just have to move back to Napa, again, when I retire, again.