Finally home

 

This is the end. It looks like I didn’t write anything that final full day at sea. Probably because nothing of note happened. By this time one sea day had morphed into a different sea day, with minor changes. Kind of like those stories, where you answer seemingly random questions (Name a color. What is your favorite animal?) and then the words are inserted into a generally funny locations on a story. Each one different, but also the same.

From a clouded memory --

Sleep, coffee, breakfast, cross stitch one final time. Up on 15 the core group was there and one by one we faded away to pack or get the last of our drink package into us. No tearful good byes, but I felt most were genuine. There are three women I’d like to stay in touch with, ‘H’, ‘M’ and ‘T’. I think ‘H’ will be the only one though. ‘M’ lives in Scotland (no not the non-stop yackity one) so it’s unlikely. ‘T’ lives in Granite Falls, an hour away, but we failed to exchange contact information. ‘H’ I do hope we can stay in tough. She is interesting and has a brain, two great qualities.

I went down to the art sales area and presented my gifted $500 off certificate and was informed it was for a Thomas Kinkade painting only, but because I was special, or ??, he’d take $250 off the price. Since it was a ‘Black, black, No takes back’ type of sale, it was better than getting Tasered, but not as good as I had expected. I’m not dissatisfied, it just would have looked better at $250 less.

I looked at my onboard account and found that because of the Onboard credit for missing Costa Rica I had available credit to spend before the end of the cruise when it disappeared into the ether. A friend is a cigar aficionado and said if I found a good cigar to pick him up one. The ship had a cigar smoking humidor room so now would be ideal to use that credit.

Walking it, the first thing that hits is the odor of cigar smoke. Not horrid like stale cigarettes, but still a slap in the face. Plush couches and easy chairs around the room, and glass cases with cigars for sale on one wall. I know less about cigars than I do about whether my president has an innie or an outie belly button. So I shopped by price and if they came in a plastic or glass tube to get them home unbent or crushed. I handed my ship’s card to the sales person and while he was away scanning it, a man on a Rascal scooter almost ran me over. “I want to go there!”. Mind you, I am just standing there with 2 cigars in hand and waiting for my card to come back. Not in a traffic aisle, just off to the side, and this fuck scolds me for being in his fucking way? I mumbled ‘ Sorry, my clairvoyance is broken today.’ and stepped back quickly. Otherwise I’d have had tire tracks on my shoes.

Back at the room, I stuffed 40 pounds of stuff into my 30 pound suitcase, attached the proper stickers and put it outside my door for pick up and disembarkation the next morning.

Morning came and Miami was outside my window. My group was not allowed to leave the ship until 1030, so I was lolling around my capsule of sanity before the crush of people needing to get off, not a second later. A knock at the door, informed me that even though 1030 was my leaving time, it was now get out of the room time.

The center of the ship was crush time with people. Not a single seat available. The bars closed. The restaurant now closed. Just a mass of humans waiting. Then there was the announcement that due to a backlog at the main exit due to government formalities that disembarkation was put on hold. Slowly one by one we were ushered into a different area.

The Rascal scooter guy from yesterday was in a wheelchair, yelling ‘Beep! Beep!’ as a ship’s employee slowly pushed him through the mass of people also exiting the ship. What a cockroach, and like a cockroach in a world wide emergency he’s the one that will survive.

I got to the main hall and saw a wall of people waiting with their passports in hand to see the government officials. I saw a sign “Global Entry”. I have Global Entry, but the online app is only for Miami airports, and I left my card at home. The woman staffing the entrance said ‘Go ahead, the camera knows your face.” I walked up to the camera, the officer said ‘Anything to declare?’ and I was leaving the ship and those passport handed crew mates behind.

Bus to the airport and a 5 hour wait to drop of my overstuffed suitcase with Alaska airlines. A zip through fast Theater or Security since I have Global Entry and now 2 hours before boarding.

The boarding process started and my group to board was early, but not the first. When I got to my seat I realized I made a huge mistake. I was seated in a window seat. I thought on this trip I had reserved an aisle. I climbed over a couple who could remember when Johnson was resident. No, not Lyndon, Andrew !. It’s only 6 hours.

Take off and the flying waitress came by with drinks and crunchy stuff in pouches. The woman of the couple wanted some food and nothing on the plane’s menu suited her highly tuned taste buds. So she reaches into her carry on and pulls out a Garlic Onion Bagel and hands half to her husband. Fuck! This flight is going to be 6 fucking hours !

Not soon enough the Space Needle was out side my window and she squeak of tires on concrete soon followed. I wondered how many wash cycles it too to get the smell of garlic Onion Bagels out of my clothes.

A quick transfer to another plane and home.

It was after midnight so I woke the birds with my noise. The green bird whistled me a welcome home and Dorothy the Wonder bird allowed me to scratch her head, before biting me. Welcome home.

Bed awaits.

Columbia and the Three C's

 

We arrived in Cartagena at the agreed upon time. Nothing out of the ordinary for docking. Tugs a pushing, ship rumbling and shaking and then total calm. We had arrived. I waited a moment before leaving the ship. Four thousand people jammed into a narrow hallway is not exactly for me, but it was a little after 10am and my experience in hot places is that it doesn’t get cooler as the day goes on. I had set aside my Indiana Jones knockoff hat in a special spot in the house and there it still remains. I was sure that today was going to be a day I was going to miss it.

The day started off on a foot, not sure if it was the right or wrong foot. I was halfway down to the junction where I turn to find the stairs. I hear my name called from behind me. It was one of the women from the stitching, knitting group. I had met her numerous times, but always face to face, getting recognized from the rear I found unsettling. I’m being paranoid.

Walking off the ship as soon as I cleared the pier and the wall of tour busses and through some palm trees Nirvana. A canopy of palm fronds opened up and parrots !! Real parrots, not of these little green ones, real Blue and Golds, Scarlets. Yes among them there were Amazons as well. The non parrot tourists all were going crazy for one of them. A damned Cockatoo. The came all this way to Central America to see a flipping Australian bird? Oh, well. At least the Macaw on the perch taught them to offer a forearm, not a hand with tasty fingers on it. Some old people can be pretty quick when it come to a hooked beak aiming for their pointers.

Of course you had to exit through the gift shop, where a very narrow chokepoint (one Rascal scooter wide) and the clueless people stood and negotiated taxi prices and the rest of us piled up like dominos behind them. I touched and ‘pardoned’ my way through the scrum of people into the scrum of taxi touts. “Madame, taxi?”, ‘How much?’, “Twenty dollars!”. ‘No way $10!” (The five year old wiki page said $5, but inflation ya know?) This went back and forth down to 15, I stayed at 10 and we finally agreed on $10. Traffic n Cartagena s like Seattle at rush hour if you erased the lane markings, except no bicycles. The thing that was most surprising was the lack of honking. That is not how things work in foreign countries, Yellow light? Stomp on the gas padal. Red light? Slolom course time! Green light? Honk your horn!, except in Japan.

After twice as long as it should have taken, we arrived at the old walled city. I slipped the driver and extra $2, he made sure to give me his taxi number for the ride back.

Stepping from the taxi I was surrounded by a phalanx of new found friends who would love to sell me cigars at less than wholesale. The friendly guy who just liked my looks and wanted to show me around his town for free. Hats and maps. Purses and bags. This was the way the remainder of the city visit would be, and I am not exaggerating. I thought the Souk in Marikesh (sp?) or Fez was high pressure street sales, this was Instant Pot pressure and unrelenting.

I wandered around and took a couple snapshots, nothing that well make the cut for enlargement and a frame. Good enough for his blog, but nothing I am really proud of. Before leaving home I polled friends if there was anything they wanted from Columbia. ‘M’ asked for a city mug from Starbucks, if they even has Starbucks, in the land known for three things known worldwide that start with the letter ‘C’. I pulled out my phone and opened the Starbucks App and tapped ‘stores’. There was one within 100 feet. If I had looked up I would have seen it. Welcome to civilization.

Inside I found the wall of mugs for sale. Bogota, Columbia, Cartagena!! I snatched it and proudly marched my quarry to the register. Pushed a button on the app and the transaction QR code appeared I turned the phone to the clerk and received a shake of the head. Nope, US Starbucks doesn’t work in Columbia Starbucks. I knew that was going too easy. I unzipped the correct pocket and pulled of some U.S. treasury backed Greenbacks. Same shake of his head and a finger pointed at the ‘No U.S. currency accepted’ sign next to the register. Am I back at the bike rental kiosk in Los Angeles? I am about to leave with my ceramic pelt laying on the counter for the buzzards to pick clean, and the man says ‘Credit card?’ YES !! Not all is lost. A tap and a bag and I am back on the street.

It is hot at high noon in Cartagena, I needed water. I was losing moisture faster than a fish in a sauna. Water for a $1. Knowing there was a large tourist markup, but he was handy. The only problem, the smallest bill I had was a $20. He assured me in sign language that he could get change. He took my $20 and returned in a couple minutes with a Twenty in his hand with a rip in it. I am certain the bill I handed his was perfect. I had watched the cashier on the ship count it out, one by one. The weasel had switched my bill with a torn one, that for some reason is often rejected in foreign countries. And no water.

“M”’s boyfriend ‘M’ wanted some coffee beans. I decided to choose some items also in the ‘C’ list for other friends but realized that I needed local currency to buy that and keep from becoming a prune. I saw a currency exchange sign. The exchange was located at the far back of the store. Not only did you exit through the gift shop, you entered through the gift shop . I handed the man my 2 twenty’s he stopped and flicked the torn one and I waited for him to reject it, but he took it! Probably thought he could foist on the next traveler who was leaving and wanted to get rid of their pesos. I took my wad of various sized and colored bills and turned to leave. What should I see? Coffee and chocolate bars. The coffee was clearly marketed for the tourist trade. Juan Valdez and Pablo Escobar coffee. ‘M’ is getting Juan Valdez.

Water was next. Stepping outside I was accosted (no that is too strong a word, approached? huh.. Not strong enough. You get out the Thesaurus) by two or three street vendors. I was startled and I guess it showed on my face. One of the men took pity on me and asked what I needed. I told him a grocery store (Mercado). He pointed down the street and said the yellow building. I passed it twice it was dark inside and looked like a derelict building. I found the water case and took a huge water bottle to the cashier. I had no idea what the cost would be, so held out maybe $3 to her. She took a bill that was the equivalent of a dollar and handed me change. Take that Mr. $20 reject !

The taxi driver said that Cartagena had a population of a million people, much smaller than the than the capital, Bogata. Which had eight million. I was getting the feeling that everyone from Bogata was in this town today trying to sell me something. It was time to call it a day, after 2 hours. It probably is a very interesting city, when a 4000 person and another 2000 person person cruise ship don’t disgorge their load on the city at once. Today was not that day.

Back out of the walled city onto the mean streets of taxi land I hear “Taxi lady? $10”. He heard ‘Let’s go’. His taxi must have been one of those stealth taxis you have never heard of. It looked like a family car. Good condition, but a family car regardless. Just roll with it, Theresa. What do you have to lose, a 1/2 pound of probably crappy coffee and a couple bars of overpriced chocolate? He might get my iPhone and all I’d ask is to leave it on long enough to get the photos uploaded to the cloud. My worry was totally unnecessary. We swapped pictures of home, and that sort of stuff. In Seattle when I mention I live with a parrot, people act impressed. Here when I show them a picture of Dorothy the Wonder Bird, I get a stifled yawn.

The got me back to the cruise ships in record time and at the agreed price.

Back at the ship it was still a little too early for day drinking. There was a piece I liked the looks of and suddenly at my side was one of the salesmen. What size art would I be interested in. I had no idea. Later in my cabin I started thinking if the price was right, where would I hang a semi xeroxed numbered frame? I mentally inventoried each wall in my house and only found one suitable wall in the house. It was in my bedroom. What surprised me in that wall inventory is how many windows there are in my house! There are more windows than walls. I did buy the piece, but have since then decided on a different, and I think better location. I’ll see when it arrives in 8 to 12 weeks.

After a quick dinner I walked through the atrium and stopped to listen to the Asian quartet but he’d western songs. I listenened until my ears bled listening to the lead try and sing The Bee Gees in falsetto. I think my hearing aids cracked listening to him.

Safely back to room, bed beckoned and the next thing was sun rise beginning at 5:30 today. Since it was so early I made two cups of coffee before the shower, etc routine. Breakfast at the usual place with a different cast of characters around me. The current self important couple next to e ordered the American breakfast, with …. Eggs well done. Potatoes well done. Bagel Well done. He sent the bagel back because it wasn’t well done enough, then required another tub of cream cheese. Never a thank you or a please.

Up to 15 for the ladies who stitch. I made a mistake in my cross stitch and had to rip out an hours worth of work. Having a nice flow of conversation around me. Then came a Scottish woman with her fabric work in hand. She sat down and started talking at ‘S’. Not ‘to S’, but ‘at S’. She talked non stop for 40 minutes and poor ‘S’ was only able to say, Uh huh, and nod the entire time. At long last she left. I looked at ‘S’ and said “Well, it’s been great visiting with you”, she laughed smiled and said “Her accent is so strong I have no idea what she was talking about”. Oh, did I mention that the Scottish woman didn’t do a single stitch the entire time?

I left at a time when my work had a good place to stop and start tomorrow and went down to watch the final auction of the ship. Wow, the big guns were out today. One guy bought an item for $69K and then he also bought the next lot for $149K. I must be missing something big here. I have to admit I did find a piece I liked and made and had my bid accepted, of around $650. It will look nice in my Outhouse.

The auction was packed, not a seat to be had. I was standing at the rear of the room next to a ball cap and blue Jeaned man. He said he had his eye on a piece of of art, but it was too expensive for him to buy. He had won a raffle and had a $500 coupon that he wasn’t going to use and he told me to wait to pay for my purchase until tomorrow when he would give it to me. That is a gift horse who’s mouth I have no interest in looking into. We shall see if it comes through. That would be sweet.

I watched the world float by after that, before dinner. At dinner the couple at the next table wanted to talk. I wanted to write this blog. We talked. Instead of finishing it over the meal, I had to find a quiet corner of the ship to finish this, for the day.

Tomorrow, last full day on the ship. Stitching in the morning and see about the $500 coupon in the afternoon.

One hour time change tonight, so time to close and start to settle in for the night.

 

The Bigger Ditch

 

With the Panama Canal in the rear view mirror. Cartagena is the next stop. I hope tonight’s missive is not full of so much bitching and whining. I hate myself when I get that way. I seem to get that way after the half way through long trips and unfortunately you got the brunt of it. My apologies.

On this cruise I have been sleeping with the curtains on the slider fully open. I really doubt that a passing Seagull or Pelican really would rather look at me naked or sleeping than they would seeing a tasty sardine swim by. As far as either of my neighbors circumventing the balcony partitions, I don’t think they can get their leg high enough to climb the railing. At that point they would be 70 feet above the rushing water, which would definitely discourage me from a quick peek, even if a Only Fans model was Nextdoor.

This was the exception to the open window process. There was a very blindingly bright lamp on the dock and was aimed exactly at my room. To add to that the ballast in it was dying or there was a short in the wiring, but it flickered on and off enough to make sleep for me impossible. With a whoosh the room was enveloped in darkness. I watched 15 minutes of Netflix and that was enough.

Later, I rolled over and a sliver of light was peeking around the curtain. Fucking lamp. Here I am awake at God knows what time all because of the flippin’ light. I rolled over and looked at the iPhone and it read 6am. Maybe it was solar and not electrical light. I pulled back the certain and had a beautiful view across the bay.

Way in the distance nearly obscured by the haze was a huge white tall ship. I could just make out the giant ceremonial flag wafting in the breeze at the stern. It wasn’t the white tall ship I had seen in Buenos Aires, because the flag wasn’t right. It had three vertical stripes a color on each end and white in the middle with a circle centered on the white stripe. Must be Mexican. I wonder if it is the same ship that tried to knock down the Brooklyn bridge earlier this year? I was very surprised they got it fixed so fast.

The closer it came the clearer it became. Those dots on the top of the sails were crew members. Standing proud, arms outstretched to their sides as if they were flying the ship as it came in. They had to climb the rigging to get up there and I hope they were attached in some way, it was an exceptionally long way to the deck or the marginly softer water.

To my right, a brass band that I hadn’t seen was on our dock welcoming the ship. The whole pomp and circumstance. I think the band started a bit early, because their playlist ran out and they had to start again, twice, before the ship was made fast. Ship secured, the crew made their way safely down from the rigging. More brass band stuff and a bunch of welcome words and the pier returned to the normal hum of ship life.

Turns out Peru also has a white tall ship, and this was theirs. I’m starting to think that every nation has a big white tall ship, including landlocked Lichtenstein.

The day had rain on and off most of the day. Seattle rain, not Florida deluge, except unlike Seattle this rain was warm. I’m glad we had good weather yesterday when we were scheduled to be at sea enroute from Costa Rica.

Watching the ship arrive had made the golden hour for photography on land a thing of the past. Based of what the weather app forecast it appeared the golden and the blue hour would not grace us tonight. No picturesque old town photos. Today was going to be a full day of Grey hour.

Except for the old town, the remainder of the city is just high rises and business. I couldn’t see and reason to leave the ship so just settled into a sea day on shore. The shore sea day was much more tolerable than an actual sea day, because it was my choice and not the captain’s.

The day was a routine sea day for me. Shower, breakfast, grab my cross stitch and head up to floor 15. I found ‘H’ sitting alone and she invited me to sit with her instead of your usual window area. Everyone else from the group was off on excursions. We stitched and had an excellent visit. She is quite an interesting woman, Lived and worked and succeeded in a man’s world and didn’t get hardened. Realistic, but not hard.

Three hours of stitching and visiting was plenty for me, and it was time for something light to nosh on. A drink on the deck and several pages reading my current novel. A forgettable Evening meal and back to my balcony.

The ship had a nine-thirty curfew for all ashore to be aboard since we were scheduled to be leaving at ten pm. The Peruvian tall ship Was having a celebration. Tuxed men and high fashion women boarded the ship and joined the festivities. The band was good, and the singer was great, I and half my side of our ship sat on our balconies and enjoyed the festival.

Someone must be ill, but I am not sure if it is our ship or theirs. A black van with the square cross on it, with the medical snake thing (cadeucious?) drove up and just sat on the pier. It must not have been too much of an emergency since it sat there for actual hours.

Boat sport is watching people run to the ship as it starts to leave. Drat, no show tonight. 9:30 comes and goes, the gangway stays stuck to the ship and pier. Ten pm comes and goes, no movement by the dock hand to loose the moorings. 10:45 comes and I give up, pull the curtains shut and call it a night.

Six in the morning came like the day before with sunlight winking around the edges. We were starting our entry up a river to the Panama Canal. Slowly, ever so slowly we made our way north? We were going through the ‘new’ locks, not the original ones from 1908 or at least Teddy Roosevelt times. It was supposed to be disappointed that it wasn’t the old locks, like it’s going to reduce my bragging rights when impressing the people I tell. I can find more impressive things to brag about. The thing that really surprised me about the new locks was that instead of opening like double French doors they slid like sliding glass doors. It takes a lot of time to move enough water to raise a 5500 person ship 15 feet and my attention span is slightly longer than a Hummingbird I grabbed my cross stitch and went up stairs.

The other women were describing their day the day before. I felt bad for ‘M’. She is a sloth girl. She even as an app on her phone that tracks a tagged sloth. I don’t know where the sloth lives, but she had traveled two feet the previous day. Talk about a slow motion train wreck. Well ‘M’ had gone on an outing that included a possible sloth sighting, and failed. I felt bad for her.

‘T’ was wondering why we didn’t leave at the appointed 10pm, or 11pm or ?? Before finally leaving at 3am. Ya, my, though limited, cruising experience is the at 1 minute after the appointed time we were outta there.

Then there was the usual complaining about being forced to go shopping when on an excursion, because the guide was getting a sellers commission from the tourists he brought into the store. One woman related a story of when one man was getting off the bus, collapsing and dying from a heart attack and having to wait for over two hours before being able to continue on their tour. Even I wouldn’t have the lack of heart to complain about some delay because of that.

Hummm ….. maybe last evening’s medical van was not waiting for a live patient to arrive. Hmmm ….. maybe NCL thought it would be best to delay leaving, to disembark or embark a passenger in a long box until after almost the entire ship was asleep. Like say 2am or 230. Maybe to cause less mental to the senior side of the calendar passengers. We must have to have a mean average ago of 65 on this trip.

Then a brief conversation about my blog among the group, were I said something about ‘crazy parrot ladies, and crazy cat ladies’. ‘W’ admitted to being a crazy cat lady and went on to prove it. I love Dorothy the Wonderbird, but one or two pictures is enough to get the idea across. ‘W’ had pictures of the cats laying side by side, on the window ledge, on a lap, in arms, chasing a bug and on and on. Then she plays a video at volume 8 on her phone of the cat walking around the house meowing. You could hear it across the entire deck. You think a baby crying in a quite location is annoying, try a Siamese cat on speaker. And .. she wouldn’t shut the fucking video down. I withdrew soon after.

A drink on the veranda and then inside. I was bored. We were crossing through a lake between locks and one island and one palm tree look identical to any other island or palm tree after 1/2 an hour. I had a VIP invitation to the art lecture, put on by our friendly auctioneer. Why not?

This was really a VIP event. He started out by saying the company had 3 levels of consumer. I forget what each was called. Maybe it was ‘Dirt’, ‘Shiny’ and ‘God, We Love you !’ For spending $25k (my figures may not be exact, but I think you’ll get the idea) you can be invited to a Domestic cruise, like Alaska or the Gulf of America. $50k, gets you international, like Italy or Japan. Now $80k gets to to exclusive like Antarctica.

True the art is cool and pretty, and generally signed by the artist and limit editions, but in the end they are all pretty much Xerox’s of the original art, just is different media than a laser jet printer. Golly a balcony to Alaska can be had for under $1k, the 12 day trip to Japan I took was $2.5k for a solo balcony. I can’t quote an Antarctic cruise cost, but $80k for a ‘free’ cruise to Antarctica and several walls of reproduced art does seem a little excessive.

One of the pieces he was going on about was an etching by Rembrandt. Rembrandt made the etching on metal in olden days and pressed some copies from it. The metal etching still exists. There was a pressing in 1999 from these etchings. I don’t know, maybe that’s worth it. To me, regardless of my bank account size, Not. Then then there were the copies of Picasso’s, That his grand daughter had copied and she signed and sealed it with the Picasso seal. Who knows? Even if I had that type of discretionary income, I wouldn’t be tossing it away on that.

Back up to the lake that looks like a river and another drink on the veranda. I’m not sure if it is a good sign the bartender knows what you are drinking before you open your mouth to order it, or not. Maybe I am a drunk.

The last locks stair stepped up down from the lake and spit us in to tropical waters. Panama Canal transit complete, a little more than 6 hours.

Have a good night. Curtains open,and ready for peeping Seagulls.

 

Panama City, and a warning

 

The following is a warning!!

I will be bitching exclusively this post. Please expect vitriol and anger. There have been too many disappointments and I am at a low. This mood frequently happens to my about this time in a long trip. I know it happens, but am unable to control it.

You have been warned !!

All the days are running into one another. I’m ready to throw in the towel, and the most exciting part is to come. Panama Canal for bragging rights I suppose and Cartegena because I think it it will be cool. That’s it. Two days I want to experience at the cost of an additional 3 days I can give a hoot about.

Before leaving home I joined a Facebook group that was about this particular cruse. I thought it would be a good source of information from more experienced cruisers. I soon found out that it was full of nervous Nellie’s because in 1995 someone had been robbed in Acapulco. They wondered what time the ship was scheduled to leave a particular port, when the information was readily available by going to the web. It had to get better so I hung in with it. Then 2 or 3 days before boarding the ship in Seattle, there was a flood of “I just finished packing”, “My flight leaves in 75 hours” types of posts. I un-joined at that point.

We left our 10 Acres of Guatemala can not remember a lot of what happened for the two days that got us here. There was the daily Needle and stitches group everyday at 10am, that was blocked out in the schedule that ran at least 2 1/2 hours. If it wasn’t for that I would have probably stayed in my room until noon.

If the art auction was happening on that day it happened at 1pm. Again supposed to last 1 hour, and went over two. I don’t know what else there was to do. Play trivia, with no prizes, only the ability to brag to the person st the table across from you. Go up to Melanoma deck and watch the oiled bodies spin on lounge chair rotisserie? Drink? Put the capital D in day drinking. There is always the buffet to get coughed on fried chicken picked up with large metal spoons, handled by how many unwashed hands before you? With options like that the Art Auction seemed thrilling.

One day it was Peter Max day. An artist I knew from the 1960’s, he was BIG on colors and psychedelic. As happens to young hippies, they grow into old bankers. Mr Max wasn’t a lot different. He makes one painting and then Lithographs off a couple thousand of them, grabs a pencil scribbles his name on the edge and “You too can own a genuine Peter Max”. “These are one of a kind, signed by the artist”. “Can only offer you two I have no more. Once these are gone they are gone.” The subtext is that this is going to increase in value, though never stated. The other unstated non-fact is that there is a limited number that are still available. Yes, on this ship there are only 2, but back at the main warehouse there are another 500. “Do I hear $5050? 5100? 5150? Sold! 5100 number 195. Well done! Well played!”. “Congratulations on owning a genuine Peter Max!” Congratulations? Congratulations on buying something? I can just hear the checker at Haggen, “That will be $20, well done, well played, congratulations on buying a steak”

One of the selling points I heard was “If you own three you have a collection”. I think I have three bottles of Tequila in the fridge at home. It seems I have a ‘Tequila collection’, not a drinking problem.

One of the continuing shows in the main theater is a Beatles group. Well they wear wigs and fake mustaches. They play songs the Beatles wrote and recorded. There is just something wrong with their enunciation. Obviously there first language is not English. Asian Beatles sounds like a pest that should not be allowed anywhere. I think they are also the guys who were butchering ‘Mama don’t your boys grow up to be cowboys’ in the sun deck as we left Seattle. I left at the end of their performance instead of blowing my mind out in a car.

Men! If you want a woman cruise ships are the way to go. I’ve seen men who wouldn’t get a single Swipe Right on Tinder out of 100 views, be surrounded by 4 women who would be out of his league on dry land, enraptured by his views on the fine art of brushing the ice in a game of curling. I’m serious, there must be a 4 to 1 ratio of single women to single men on this cruise, and over half of them are not on Social Security.

My room looks out at the ocean side of the southern part of the trip. No land to see, even in the distance. So it was exciting the other day when I saw another ship!! All I had been seeing was sea birds riding the updrafts created by the ship moving through the ocean. These birds are masters of air currents. There are the usual sea gulls and one black and white bird that looks like what a Penguin would look like if it a Penguin fly in the air and not the ocean. I might have caught an image of one on the iPhone. I watched one dive down and catch a morsel from the sea, another was closing from the rear with it’s eye on a free lunch. Closer and closer, and at the last second, bird one just tipped it’s wing leaving #2 with too much momentum to steal the bite. It was a thing of beauty to watch. Way better than Tom Cruise in Top Gun,

Today was no stitching or purling so I had a late breakfast. When I thought the majority of day trippers were off the boat, I disembarked. I was wrong. They may have gotten off before me, but they were still waiting for taxis into town. I joined the madness.

Ocean cruise ships seem to be relegated to as far from town as possible. (Except for Alaska). Panama City is no exception. If you had Jesus shoes and could walk on water you would be in town in 15 minutes. The road takes a huge arc and triples your walking time.

Immediately I was pounced on by two taxi drivers willing to take me to town. One guy soon melted away after I gave my price into town. Another one appeared out of the mist and we settled on the price of a shared taxi to town and then had to wait for every seat to be filled. That too longer than the actual ride.

I am so jaded with travel. I got to the old town and wandered for a couple hours and found caught another shared taxi back to the ship. It was shopping, shopping and shopping. Once in a while an over priced restaurant. One of those ‘if you have been in (choose your country south of Tijuana) you have already seen this old town’. The worst part? Not a single Starbucks! What a backwards old town.

I had to force this, and I’m sure it is obvious. For that I apologize and will close and save you from further suffering. 

 

Do not pass GO, do not collect $200

Flying Penguin ?

 

I am not sure if I am supposed to be at sea or not. I think today was a scheduled a sea day but I’m not certain. There have been so many changes that we are getting daily updates. The passengers are getting restless. The latest is that the entire country of Costa Rica has been canceled. I am not sure if I whined abut it already or not. Rumor has it that the pier NCL uses is having some work done to it - or - that the tides were too low and there were sandbars that the ship could get grounded on. Either way we are not stopping in Costa Rica.

Mutiny is the word of the day. The fine dining restaurants have replaced their silverware with plastic utensils. The smokers have to have their cigarettes lit by a crew member. The knitters are supervised by a ship’s officer at all times they are out of their cabins. The customers are not happy.

Who wanted to stop at places on your cruise? I kinda did.

Missed Cabo, Acapulco, (all of Mexico) and now Costa Rica. Dude! Mr. NCL, like … you didn’t know the pier in Costa Rica was going to be worked on when we left Los Angeles? Them tide tables, I can buy a tide tables chart based on my location from the local fisheries supply for the next year right now. Probably find the tide tables for any location on earth for the foresee able future with a Google search. … and you notify us of the change mid cruise? Oh! And Gee, thanks for the $50 On Board Credit. That’s not costing you a dime, only losing you possible revenue.

One less black spot on the cruise is we are going directly to Panama Ct, instead of doing doughnuts in the ocean, like when we were supposed to be in the assigned port as we did for Cabo and Acapulco. We will have 36 hours’ish like we did in San Francisco. I’m not sure what Panama City holds of interest, maybe I’ll get to hug a sloth, my spirit animal. That’s not cultural misappropriation my woke friends, I have Native American heritage so am allowed to have a spirit animal, I just don’t know if there are many sloths in Oklahoma.

I have been able to cross stitch more these past days, that I did in a full decade home.

I could cry more, but I feel I’m losing my audience with my ‘First World Problems’.

Guatemala. I stepped off the ship into a palm covered gewgaw market. Within the first 15 feet my purse was $40 lighter and my checked luggage just cost me an additional $10 going home because of the increased. A bag for my cross stitch went from $55 to $30. A $20 pound of coffee was $10. Good bye, two Jackson's. The good side of that is the bag has parrots on it, and Andrew Jackson had a parrot. As a historical note: The parrot was removed from Jackson’s funeral, because it was disruptive with it’s swearing. Come on Dorothy, you can do it !! Make me proud !

Sorry that this about shopping and money. That was all I experienced in Guatemala.

I have a friend ‘N’ who loves rum. She even sent me off with picture of Rum bottles I should buy on the trip. I found one at a few places that was marked from $100 to $75 for the same product. Rum aged 2 years. I think she and I might enjoy it. I wonder what it costs in the states. BEVMO, $49 plus tax. even with my states puritanical taxes on sin, I’d still be money ahead, and I wouldn’t have to carry it home in my luggage. — but, I did buy an airplane sized bottle that we can sample.

A bag of chocolate nibs that how to use are a mystery. Maybe I should have paid more attention when in San Francisco at the big brick building.

That was my Guatemala experience. Except for getting shit on by a bird. I’m not certain if that was a good part or a bad part. I do live with two avians after all, but strangers bodily functions are different than family’s.

Back on the ship a crew member I have had no interaction with, said hello, using my name as they walked past. I really have had absolutely no contact with them before. It must be my dazzling Hazel eyes.

I ordered a drink and sat on the deck watching the port go about port business. There are cameras everywhere. If I had a modeling contract, they would be paying me to take this cruise. I counted six cameras in that particular location. Two men in black pants and white shirts, with gold ribbons on their shoulders were trying to replace a camera at the railing. Probably so that you’ll have a selfie of yourself when you leap into the sea. The fat guy was on deck offering advice, the skinny guy on the ladder was doing the installation. His pants were so tight that he couldn’t straddle the top of a 6 foot ladder like riding a horse to get the camera removed. Of course fat guy was offering to help as long as it didn’t involve the ladder. “Maybe if I put my right leg over first and then move my butt to the right …. No .. hmm .. let’s try the left leg. No, that makes me backwards to the camera. Uhh… “ and so it went for about 40 minutes. They did accomplish their chore, but the skinny guy may be singing Soprano for the next week.

I whispered to my server that a ten year old boy with a PlayStation would have had it done in 10 minutes, while playing Mario Kart.

Dinner was white napkin night. The only thing of note is that the waiter that took my order and the couple next to me as if we were a single group, even after I mentioned we were two different entities. The meal is complementary he’s not speed serving, trying to get the next paying customer seated. I don’t think he is getting paid by the head count, I don’t know why he was in such a rush.

After dinner I decided not to get my money’s worth of the drink package and went back to my room and took a shower and sat on my balcony. I watched the ship undock. Alas no drama. No last minute port runners. No one left behind.

A tug escorted us out of the harbor. When we approached the mouth of the harbor the tug started blasting music from their speakers and started spinning on it’s center as the crew waved their lighted cell phones in the air Good Bye. A dancing tug boat. That was frickin’cool !

Enough for now. Wine glass almost empty.

Guatemala - Sorta

 

Actual land! My feet actually touched dirt in all it’s glory. I was beginning to wonder if my shoes were going to be relegated to tightly woven carpet with fishes of the remainder of their lifetime. We actually docked today in Guatemala. The first foreign country of the cruise.

Every day I get a different piece of paper with a different itinerary on it. I loved the one that began …

Dear Valued guests. We hope you are enjoying …….discovering the charm and beauty of Mexico.

… this was at my room after we had blown off Cabo San Lucas and Acapulco and were on our way to Guatemala. The only beauty of Mexico I saw was the high rise hotels of Acapulco in the distance retreating away from the ship. Don’t you have a proof reader Mr. NCL?

When I booked this cruise it was basically one day one the sea, one day at a port, except the last two days from Cartagena to Miami. Today ends five consecutive days at sea. I think I spent fewer consecutive days at sea going from Alaska to Japan. Oh! We got a $10 credit for missing Acapulco. ‘You missed a world destination. Sorry. Here’s a Frappuccino’

What have I missed telling you about?

How about the woman in the Dirndl dress (think Heidi of Switzerland yodeling) at the top of one of the staircases. I wondered if we had a Swiss Family Robinson theme going on since we had been at sea so long. Reflection on it, the is October, and there is a thing called Oktoberfest, that is probably what was going on. If she had had an armful of beer steins I would have understood.

I’m special on the ship. I am a Latitudes Silver member. It is kind of like at Chipotle, if you buy enough burritos for can get free Guacamole. Silver is the lowest rank, I could pull up how many days you need to go up, but after this cruise I’ll be Gold some guy at some desk told me. I get things I’ll probably never use. 10% off photo packages, 15% off spa sessions .. etc. I guess if you get enough nights, you get a free bottle of water and a mint on your pillow.

I got invited to a special meet and greet cocktail thing with the Captain on officers of the ship. Wow! I put on eye shadow and mascara and headed to the main dining room for my special day. I come down the stairs and there are hundreds of people waiting. Sardines packed in oil have more room than these people. I move to step off the last stair and get “The end of the line is over there!!” Spat into my face, by someone’s sweet commando grandmother. I’m sure her retirement is good after all those years as a stevedore.

I make a u-turn and go back up the stairs. Forget it. Being special isn’t worth it to me. A Diet Coke later I slip back down to the main dining room and try to find a seat. Out of this huge arena sized room there are probably less than half a dozen seats available, and all of them are behind pillars. I find the thinnest pillar at and sit down.

The captain is standing on a small stage, going on with the company’s self promotion and how many status people are on this cruise. Over half the ship ! Really !! Maybe I’m not so special after all. Then he goes into “How many of you are (? Status ?) members, raise your hands”. The hands go up, and more as each status is increased. Sliver, Gold, Platinum, Diamond ……. Titanium, Moon Rock…….. Then how many days have you sailed with NCL, 50? .. and that escalated quickly. 705? Anyone higher? 838 ! He played this to the max, finally settling on the final of over 1100 nights. “Blah, blah, so proud. You are the ship’s Ambassadors this sailing.”. They got a birthday cake that had Birthday scraped off of it, and written is different colored icing Ambassador instead.

At last he got to the meet and greet the officers part. “Hello I am ….. I am the first officer or purser of head of housekeeping… when the last officer said his thing, then marched down (an actual march) the main aisle and left. That was the “Meet the officers party”? A glass of cheap free Champagne (we all have a drink package) and a piece of cheese from the free buffet? Glad I didn’t wait in line for that !

The two comedians who signed on in San Francisco are pretty good, but after three additional days that they were not prepared for, they were recycling routines they had done earlier on this cruise. One man came out with a note pad with his notes, he’d look at his notes, say his jokes, and glance at his watch, then back to his notes. ‘Check the watch. I gotta do 40 minutes, only 15 more to go. Now if I do the drunk landlord bit, I’ll stumble around on stage a little longer, that’ll kill two extra minutes, than only 13 more to go. Shit! I read that wrong the contract says 50 minutes ! … Oh! Fuck! I wonder if I can sneak some of my adult material in on this early to bed group?”. At least that is what I assumed his internal monologue was saying.

They did an awesome job, by the way.

I got bored enough that I went to an art auction. They give the impression that their art is all original and worthy of going into your personal ‘Collection’ to be handed down to future generations. Well maybe the original work could be valuable. I started looking closely at the paintings, and down in the corner by the artist’s signature is a notation similar to “257/850”. It is a limited run of that piece of art. The signature is almost always original, but the piece itself is mass produced. There are a few pieces I would like to own, because I like how it look, but I would never think of them as an investment. They do have some originals by artists even the art Neanderthal that I am have heard of. Those pieces go for a year’s salary to most of the people on this cruise. Still it is fun watching the bidders getting FOMO (fear of missing out) and raising their number when it should have stayed in their lap.

Last night was a great nature’s light show. I felt that my room was full of paparazzi and the flash bulbs were going off. Then seconds later the thunder clap. Eventually it became too much and I had to shut my curtains.

This morning my balcony overlooked palm trees and cargo cranes, and stacks of shipping containers. I was too late booking a bus ride up to a nice town and wasn’t too concerned. It’s Guatemala there is going to be a cute town close. Right? Huh? Well there ain’t. It is a working deep water shipping port. With all the charm of 1960’s Tacoma. The closest I came to actually visiting Guatemala was a 10 acre spot of greenery covered in palm trees, grass sod and vendors. Stepping off the ship is followed by running a gauntlet of bags handmade in China, junk jewelry that turns your ears green in a week, t-shirts that lose their logo and 3 sizes the first washing. Everything starts high and only the greenest of tourists pays the first price. Even I succumbed to the sales pitch. I’m happy with my purchases, but nothing that I would have normally purchased.

I wove my way through the throngs of this also not on an excursion for 20 minutes. Stopped at the outdoor restaurant to look over the menu. The prices were only slightly less than a waterfront eatery in the USA. I thought some Ceviche would be good, but at $25 for fish or shrimp and $55 for lobster I was priced out of the market. Besides, it’s not like Peru where Ceviche is not served after noon, because it isn’t fresh enough to merit selling. I am feeling that cruise ship dock Ceviche is akin to Gas Station Sushi.

Earlier in the cruise I asked M.J. the bartender if Guatemala had any good Rum. He pointed to a black and gold, still sealed bottle behind the bar. Rum aged in wood over two years, similar to Rapsado Tequila. I found this same bottle for sale on shore. One hundred US dollars ! Way out of my budget. I found another vendor asking the bargain price of $75. Well not a bargain as far as my wallet went. Since I had cell service, let’s Google the bottle on the internet. BEVMO, Washington state, $49 plus tax. Maybe I’ll wait until I get home. I did buy an airplane sized bottle to find out if my taste buds agree with my wallet.

The best part of today was cell service!

It’s 4:30 pm, I wrung every vowel out of the past few days. Think it’s Miller time. I hear a Mojito calling me.