Sunday, February 26, 2012
Yesterday, the QM2 made her maiden visit to Padang Harbour, Bali. We anchored off-shore and had a short (6 or 7 minute) tender ride. As soon as we left the ship to board the tender, I started sweating and did not stop until long after I was out of the heat. It was hot, hot, hot.
After passing through a passenger terminal, we had to run a gauntlet of taxi drivers, postcard and souvenir sellers, including children selling the oldest post cards I have ever seen. It was difficult and embarrassing just trying to get to the shuttle busses.
And the fun did not stop there - another army of taxi drivers, postcard and souvenir sellers and waiters trying to get us to eat were waiting for us in the small town. My mission from God is always to find a post office. I found 2 and chose the one in the combination grocery-clothing-drug store with a post agent at a small desk. With luck the letters will eventually arrive.
Leaving the shuttle bus, I ran into Anatolie, one of the pianists aboard. We decided to explore the town together. After a couple of minutes I realized that he must have been a Boy Scout (Guide for those of you with a queen). He helped me across the street, helped me climb stairs, checked for holes in the sidewalk/pavement (and there were a lot of those), reminded me to look both ways before crossing the street. It was mostly unnecessary and totally sweet. Later, I went to the pub (there are several aboard) to hear him and he played melodies from CARMEN as well as standards.
Bali is poor and we, the passengers, must seem impossibly rich to them. A dollar is a lot of money. Scenes during the ride from the dock to the town: banana groves, some commercial and others private, with 6 or 7 trees in the garden. Small rice paddies, perhaps 10 x 10 yards, in the garden beside or behind a house. How different from the carrots and radishes the kids and I planted years ago! Women washing clothes, dishes, children and food in the small, shallow river which ran beside the road. The road was a narrow 2-lane affair loaded with what appeared to be 50cc motorcycles. My favorite scene: a small motorcycle with father, mother, child in front of the father, child between the mother and father and child behind the mother, and it passed our bus.
I did not want any souvenirs - no wooden, carved and painted Harley Davidsons, no sarong, no carved plastic replica of a temple. I bought fans - one for me and 3 for the Melbourne triplets.
After about 2 hours, I was hot, tired and very, very sweaty. Anatolie remarked that it seemed to be only the tourists who were sweating, as he wiped sweat out of his eyes. Last night my right shoulder hurt and I saw the reason - a sunburn, not serious, just annoying. But, it's the first one in about 15 years and no Noxema in sight. So, I put some local anesthetic gel (from the dentist in Buxtehude) on it this evening in order to wear a formal gown with straps and be able to dance.
And speaking of dance - I have met three women, Maree, Lilly and Tita, from Melbourne, who are cheerful, charming, lovely characters and excellent and enthusiastic dancers. They do ballroom with husbands and line dancing (perhaps with husbands, too but not in the class).
What I first noticed is that they are such good friends that they finish each others' sentences. Then I watched two of them dance rock and roll and saw that they dance so well together they could probably do it blind-folded. They are wonderfully generous and have taught me, and the rest of the class, fun and fancy dances. My favorite is, of course, the BUMP AND GRIND - just as the name implies. In an earlier post, I mentioned that I had made friends for the day, for the trip and for life. I hope they are in the last category and should I get to Melbourne next year or should we meet on the ship, we will pick up just where we leave off this year. Also, I was instructed to say that Maree is the "cute one" - in truth, they are all cute.
Last night was another highlight of this trip. I was tired from the excursion on Bali but had been told that there was going to be a jazz jam. In Pittsburgh, I used to go to C.J's with Chuck on Thursday nights when some of the best jazz musicians in Pittsburgh, and farther afield, came and jammed.
The musicians who play regularly in the ballroom were transformed last night into some of the finest jazz musicians I have ever heard. And, they seemed to have as much fun playing as I did listening. Among other things, the trumpet solo in SECRET LOVE was brilliant and the complicated drum cadence in a subsequent song accompanied me to bed hours later. TAKE THE A TRAIN was a joy. Thanks, Guys, and please do it again soon.
Saturday, February 25, 2012
Sunday, February 19, 2012
A Tale of Two Places
Yesterday, the QM 2 made her maiden visit to the Whitsunday Islands - a very good choice. We had to anchor quite a ways off shore and ride tenders into the port - about 25 minutes. The tenders are the 137-passenger lifeboats normally blocking the view of most of the passengers on deck 8. The sides are left open, with 2 ropes across them to keep us from falling out but if you sit too close to the openings, you will probably emerge wet.
Volunteers met us and drove up into Airlie Beach, the closest town to the dock. It could be anywhere in Southern California: tanned, healthy-looking people, lots of smiles (genuine), quite good buskers including a girl of about 12 with a voice of someone 4 times her age, belting out Australian country music, a large, open-air market, sponsored by the local Lions Club, selling touristy things but also fresh fruit and vegetables, cooked chickens, bakery goods and something resembling a small child on a spit. I hope it was a pig but did not want to look closely.
Before you ask, no, I did not go to the Great Barrier Reef. I have concerns about even eco-tourism when I know that sun block, body lotion, hair gel, boat vibrations, oil, gasoline can all damage coral. Add global warming and it's a disaster. No need for me to compound it. Thirty years ago I would have.
Then, today, I learned that the trip to the GBR was 5 hours (round trip) over very choppy waters and half of the 130 or so passengers were violently ill. So, all in all, my day at Airlie Beach was the right choice.
A message for Mandy at the Beach Shack: the trousers are perfect, I have no idea what to do with the wrap and I used the purse tonight. Thank you and please consider applying for a job. You would be perfect!
Unfortunately, today, with the temperature about 30 degrees C (very hot on any scale) and humidity about 250%, I chose to take the tender again and go into Cairns. This time the tender going over was a catamaran which hopped waves beautifully.
Cairns is, sorry Tourist Board, absolutely uninteresting. We traveled in on the Captain Cook highway - sorry James, you really deserve better than empty stores and shops and loutish teenagers looking threatening.
And, I saw the Aborigines I had missed elsewhere - in the park, stumbling down the street or sleeping under archways, all drunk at 10 am.
As my cousin Carole undoubtedly remembers, when I was a child, I knew every wino and drunk in southeast Washington, by name. And, without exception, they told me never to drink alcohol. Even in their wildest moments - Gerry and Tall Man fighting over the last swig of muscatel they had stolen from Henry G when he passed out - they told me never to drink. It was the devil and had ruined their lives. And, I listened and have been grateful to them ever since.
So, I would think and actually do think that when you grow up seeing the hurt and harm which alcohol causes, you avoid it, not embrace it. I know the sociological arguments about loss of culture leading to substance abuse but where are self-determination, self-control, personal responsibility and pride in that argument? I do not have the answer so don't ask.
No cane toads in sight - the bus driver said they do not come into town but the way he said it, it sounded like they found the town sinful. In truth, there are not enough hiding places and it's too dry in town. But they are around and spreading at an alarming rate.
All of the above makes we wonder if I really want to go into Darwin but I have to find a post office as the letters I wrote at the beginning of the month have to be weighed.
Oh, at the South Pacific ball 2 nights ago, I wore my ball gown with tiers which overlap and look a bit like scales (fish scales) and had orchids tucked behind both ears. I was the most South Pacific thing there!
Friday, February 17, 2012
Big night, big ship, big city, big dreams and Sarah
On February 14th, I attended a performance of TURANDOT at the Sydney Opera House - what a thrill! I remember the controversy during the planning and building and now it's a modern icon with amazing acoustics. The staging was wonderful and although I am definitely not a Puccini fan, this was a dream come true - another in a long line when you think about it.
This ship is so big that it often has to dock rather far removed from the city in question - in this case, Brisbane. We docked across from the airport, had shuttle busses (as per usual) into town only this time, the ride took about 50 minutes. It gave us a chance to see the outskirts as well as the downtown - strip malls with beautiful flowering trees, lots of traffic but amazingly clean.
Downtown was busy, with the typical pedestrian zone (sound familiar?)and lots of traffic but no one seemed to be upset when the light turned red and no horn-honking. I glanced up one of the sky-scrapers and saw two window washers dangling from ropes about 30 stories up. Yikes!
What I had expected but had not seen except once were Aborigines. There was an adult male in a shop in Fremantle but none anywhere else. As an American, I expect a multi-cultural environment. My neighborhood was a mini-UN, divided only by which way we went to school: Catholic or public. But we were all shades, hues, last names and all played on the street or the school yard together.
So, I was interested to see some teenage Aborigines dancing on the street - any hip-hop group would be proud to have them. During a lull in their performance, I asked one where they had learned to dance - music videos to start but now they do their own routines and hope to take their "act" to the States to dance for JayZ or LL Cool J. I wished them the best of luck.
Then, I went to look for my perfume: "Y" from Yves St Laurent. It's not sold in the US and I had not been able to find it at any of the previous stops. That was before I met Sarah, a sales woman with the patience of a saint.
I knew the 2 products I wanted and she got them for me right away but I decided (no, I don't know why) that I needed a red lipstick. She tried about 10 different shades of red on me, patiently applying them with a brush she had to sterilize each time, then carefully removing them. In the end, I bought none of them but from her good cheer and sunny disposition, you might have thought that I had bought them all. I wish I could bottle her personality and sell it - I would have lots of money. But,I am already rich.
This ship is so big that it often has to dock rather far removed from the city in question - in this case, Brisbane. We docked across from the airport, had shuttle busses (as per usual) into town only this time, the ride took about 50 minutes. It gave us a chance to see the outskirts as well as the downtown - strip malls with beautiful flowering trees, lots of traffic but amazingly clean.
Downtown was busy, with the typical pedestrian zone (sound familiar?)and lots of traffic but no one seemed to be upset when the light turned red and no horn-honking. I glanced up one of the sky-scrapers and saw two window washers dangling from ropes about 30 stories up. Yikes!
What I had expected but had not seen except once were Aborigines. There was an adult male in a shop in Fremantle but none anywhere else. As an American, I expect a multi-cultural environment. My neighborhood was a mini-UN, divided only by which way we went to school: Catholic or public. But we were all shades, hues, last names and all played on the street or the school yard together.
So, I was interested to see some teenage Aborigines dancing on the street - any hip-hop group would be proud to have them. During a lull in their performance, I asked one where they had learned to dance - music videos to start but now they do their own routines and hope to take their "act" to the States to dance for JayZ or LL Cool J. I wished them the best of luck.
Then, I went to look for my perfume: "Y" from Yves St Laurent. It's not sold in the US and I had not been able to find it at any of the previous stops. That was before I met Sarah, a sales woman with the patience of a saint.
I knew the 2 products I wanted and she got them for me right away but I decided (no, I don't know why) that I needed a red lipstick. She tried about 10 different shades of red on me, patiently applying them with a brush she had to sterilize each time, then carefully removing them. In the end, I bought none of them but from her good cheer and sunny disposition, you might have thought that I had bought them all. I wish I could bottle her personality and sell it - I would have lots of money. But,I am already rich.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Adelaide, Life on an Event, Harold, Peter, Whitney
February 13, 2012
I know it's the 13th because we get to Sydney on the 14th and we get to Sydney tomorrow. Such is ocean-voyage logic. The day of the week is only important if I want to send some snail-mail and the PO is closed.
Adelaide's time is 30 minutes out of sync with Fremantle and Sydney?!?!?! It looked like a joke when we were told to forward our watches by 30 minutes. There is a pedestrian mall, just like those of bigger and dirtier cities - same shops, but very friendly shop assistants. I found another QUEENSPARK and the assistant could not have been more attentive.
But, I dislike shopping so much that not even the presence of my "little sister" or friendly shop assistants could ease the pain. So, I got some things on my list and came back to the ship.
Fremantle is much more charming and certainly easier to reach from the dock. The bus trip into Adelaide took 40+ minutes but we had a guided tour on the way back, including a drive-by of the submarine factory. That's a first on any of my trips.
The welcome at the dock included a seranade of Australian songs, ending with WALTZING MATILDA which we all sang.
What still amazes me is that the QM2 is an event - people line up to watch us sail in or out and ring the fences to photograph the vessel. Shops open early or open on Sundays for us - probably we are the envy of much of what we survey. Still strange. It reminds me of when I worked for Senator Ted Kennedy - he was an event, ringed by famous people and after a while, I suppose, we got used to it. "Oh, Paul Neuman called, there is a note from Barbara Streisand, the president of PanAm is waiting, Jackie O wants a call-back, the King of ?? will be here at.......". Somehow, I am sure that I will not get used to the interest in and love for the QM2.
Harold King led his last dance class for this leg of the voyage - we all hope (and pray) that he will be back, and soon. As the first class began, I was suddenly back in NYC auditioning for a prestige dance school, to which I was not admitted, but got a job working in the chorus of a club. Harold is incredibly talented - so talented that he insists that we have fun even when chiding us for not knowing which of our left feet we should use first. What amazes me about his class is that my legs still have the muscle memory of 50 years ago. Well, maybe not quite as much memory as then, but more that I thought. And, it's fun. We sweat, laugh, make mistakes, do it right, forget the mistakes, do it right again, sweat and laugh more. He could go on much longer and so could we.
And Peter, one of the dance hosts, who actually likes to dance. We share a love for the West Coast Swing (his name for it) or the Stomp (my name for it) or Hand Dancing. Whatever you call it, we learn from each other and enjoy practicing and perfecting. I taught him the smooth slide and he taught me the hand-behind-the-back turn. I will miss him very much. Oh, he can do all the standard dances, too. And, the Charleston. In his absence, I will practice both, using a door knob as my partner's hand (shades of Dunbar High School) until we meet again.
And Whitney: whom the gods wish to destroy......... She died a long time ago - yesterday she stopped breathing.
I know it's the 13th because we get to Sydney on the 14th and we get to Sydney tomorrow. Such is ocean-voyage logic. The day of the week is only important if I want to send some snail-mail and the PO is closed.
Adelaide's time is 30 minutes out of sync with Fremantle and Sydney?!?!?! It looked like a joke when we were told to forward our watches by 30 minutes. There is a pedestrian mall, just like those of bigger and dirtier cities - same shops, but very friendly shop assistants. I found another QUEENSPARK and the assistant could not have been more attentive.
But, I dislike shopping so much that not even the presence of my "little sister" or friendly shop assistants could ease the pain. So, I got some things on my list and came back to the ship.
Fremantle is much more charming and certainly easier to reach from the dock. The bus trip into Adelaide took 40+ minutes but we had a guided tour on the way back, including a drive-by of the submarine factory. That's a first on any of my trips.
The welcome at the dock included a seranade of Australian songs, ending with WALTZING MATILDA which we all sang.
What still amazes me is that the QM2 is an event - people line up to watch us sail in or out and ring the fences to photograph the vessel. Shops open early or open on Sundays for us - probably we are the envy of much of what we survey. Still strange. It reminds me of when I worked for Senator Ted Kennedy - he was an event, ringed by famous people and after a while, I suppose, we got used to it. "Oh, Paul Neuman called, there is a note from Barbara Streisand, the president of PanAm is waiting, Jackie O wants a call-back, the King of ?? will be here at.......". Somehow, I am sure that I will not get used to the interest in and love for the QM2.
Harold King led his last dance class for this leg of the voyage - we all hope (and pray) that he will be back, and soon. As the first class began, I was suddenly back in NYC auditioning for a prestige dance school, to which I was not admitted, but got a job working in the chorus of a club. Harold is incredibly talented - so talented that he insists that we have fun even when chiding us for not knowing which of our left feet we should use first. What amazes me about his class is that my legs still have the muscle memory of 50 years ago. Well, maybe not quite as much memory as then, but more that I thought. And, it's fun. We sweat, laugh, make mistakes, do it right, forget the mistakes, do it right again, sweat and laugh more. He could go on much longer and so could we.
And Peter, one of the dance hosts, who actually likes to dance. We share a love for the West Coast Swing (his name for it) or the Stomp (my name for it) or Hand Dancing. Whatever you call it, we learn from each other and enjoy practicing and perfecting. I taught him the smooth slide and he taught me the hand-behind-the-back turn. I will miss him very much. Oh, he can do all the standard dances, too. And, the Charleston. In his absence, I will practice both, using a door knob as my partner's hand (shades of Dunbar High School) until we meet again.
And Whitney: whom the gods wish to destroy......... She died a long time ago - yesterday she stopped breathing.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Fremantle and Ozzie, Ozzie, Ozzie
Fremantle reminds me of small-town, used-to-be frontier America with an amazing combination of styles: neo-Gothic Anglican church (upstate NY), 2-storey building with wrought-iron balconies (New Orleans), pedestrian zone (everywhere) with bad singers and worse musicians. The traffic, of course, follows the English pattern but unlike in much of England, there are no signs painted on the street telling you to "Look right". I wonder how many tourists they lose in a year.
Many of the people I spoke with from Western Australia have a much stronger accent than I had expected but my previous experience was limited to Crocodile Dundee.
We are now in the Australian Bight and the ship is rocking again. The ocean, in this case, the Southern Ocean, crashes against the rocks of the shore and then comes back out with increased force so the ship is buffeted from both sides. When you consider than 90% of the time, you have no idea that you are at sea, a reminder now and again is not such a bad thing.
Cunard advertised a 3-day trip: Fremantle to Adelaide and more than 800, mostly single women, took up the offer. Unfortunately, they did not read the fine print so many showed up this evening at the formal dinner wearing summer clothes and beach shoes. They were politely but firmly turned away and told to change and come back. Some did, many apparently did not.
As my contact with Australians was and is limited, I do not know why they say something which sounds like "ozzie, Ozzie, Ozzie" but it can get annoying especially when someone else is talking. On the other hand, they have the reputation for being lots of fun, fueled of course by lots of alcohol. But then, lots of cultures are the same in that respect. And, if like me, you do not drink alcohol and are as sober at the end of the evening as at the beginning, it can really be annoying.
Many of the people I spoke with from Western Australia have a much stronger accent than I had expected but my previous experience was limited to Crocodile Dundee.
We are now in the Australian Bight and the ship is rocking again. The ocean, in this case, the Southern Ocean, crashes against the rocks of the shore and then comes back out with increased force so the ship is buffeted from both sides. When you consider than 90% of the time, you have no idea that you are at sea, a reminder now and again is not such a bad thing.
Cunard advertised a 3-day trip: Fremantle to Adelaide and more than 800, mostly single women, took up the offer. Unfortunately, they did not read the fine print so many showed up this evening at the formal dinner wearing summer clothes and beach shoes. They were politely but firmly turned away and told to change and come back. Some did, many apparently did not.
As my contact with Australians was and is limited, I do not know why they say something which sounds like "ozzie, Ozzie, Ozzie" but it can get annoying especially when someone else is talking. On the other hand, they have the reputation for being lots of fun, fueled of course by lots of alcohol. But then, lots of cultures are the same in that respect. And, if like me, you do not drink alcohol and are as sober at the end of the evening as at the beginning, it can really be annoying.
Saturday, February 4, 2012
Dancing and Lights Out
February 4, 2012
Harold King is aboard as a guest lecturer and has agreed to give hour-long courses. I am as happy as a pig in mud! He is brilliant, demanding and loads of fun. There are so many people who come to the class that he has to separate us into 3 groups. After that, an hour of line dancing, then 45 minutes of ballroom dancing lessons, all before lunch. What was that about "happy as a .....".
An amazing adventure, also this morning. The ship lost all power - the lights went out, the emergency lights came on, the ship began to slow down and the Commodore, who was in the middle of an interview, came on to explain what had happened and what was being done. It only lasted for about 10 minutes but several people went back to their cabins to secure their valuables (there is a safe in each cabin which can be programmed with a code or the room key card)and one woman got her life jacket.
It was more annoying than anything else as we were practicing with Harold at the time.
Now, it's 9 pm and the dance in the ballroom will begin in about 45 minutes. VIBZ, the group from St. Lucia, will perform so "it's party time". We have had to set the clocks ahead several days in a row and the lack of sleep is beginning to get to me but my motto is, if you get the chance, dance.
Harold King is aboard as a guest lecturer and has agreed to give hour-long courses. I am as happy as a pig in mud! He is brilliant, demanding and loads of fun. There are so many people who come to the class that he has to separate us into 3 groups. After that, an hour of line dancing, then 45 minutes of ballroom dancing lessons, all before lunch. What was that about "happy as a .....".
An amazing adventure, also this morning. The ship lost all power - the lights went out, the emergency lights came on, the ship began to slow down and the Commodore, who was in the middle of an interview, came on to explain what had happened and what was being done. It only lasted for about 10 minutes but several people went back to their cabins to secure their valuables (there is a safe in each cabin which can be programmed with a code or the room key card)and one woman got her life jacket.
It was more annoying than anything else as we were practicing with Harold at the time.
Now, it's 9 pm and the dance in the ballroom will begin in about 45 minutes. VIBZ, the group from St. Lucia, will perform so "it's party time". We have had to set the clocks ahead several days in a row and the lack of sleep is beginning to get to me but my motto is, if you get the chance, dance.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Reunion, Mauritius, Sir David Frost, Country Music and Waters
February 1, 2012
We sailed past Reunion Island today - about 5 or 6 miles offshore but close enough to see houses, streets and large hills/small mountains. Sadly, we had to keep going and arrived at Mauritius about 19:30. The most fascinating part was that the vessels was turned 180 degrees and unless you were on deck or on a balcony, you did not realize it. Yes, it was that smooth.
About 10 people will embark and about the same number will disembark and we will be on our way to Australia in about an hour - actually, I can feel the ship moving now. The computer room is on deck 2, forward, and movement is more noticeable here.
Cunard sponsors lectures on many different subjects and yesterday and today, Sir David Frost - the one you remember - was the guest lecturer. Today, he was interviewed by the entertainment director and then we in the audience got to ask questions. The hour went by much too quickly but for me, the most memorable answer was to the question of how he, Sir David, would like to be remembered. His answer -"as a good parent - a good father". I hope for the same.
Just before the lecture I discovered that I was sitting next to a former BBC disc jockey of country music, voted the best country music dj in the world!!! He takes a group to Nashville each year and they always have breakfast with Charlie Pride.
This trip has been an unending string of "firsts" including, in December, seeing snow falling on the ocean - rather a waste, if you ask me, but then no one did.
Today, there was a thunder storm on the ocean and the lightning seemed to be much closer but the thunder was dulled somewhat by the engines and the rush of water.
And speaking of water: the North Atlantic in December was a dark, almost brooding slate gray, the waters of the Caribbean were aquamarine blue with frothy white waves, now, in the Indian Ocean, the deepest cobalt blue you can imagine, turning to ice blue-green in the waves created by the ship. And whenever the sun shines in the right direction, the waves created by the ship throw up spume (I have been waiting since the 6th grade to use that word!) and for 1 or 2 seconds there is a rainbow, perhaps only 6 or 7 feet across. Amazing!
We sailed past Reunion Island today - about 5 or 6 miles offshore but close enough to see houses, streets and large hills/small mountains. Sadly, we had to keep going and arrived at Mauritius about 19:30. The most fascinating part was that the vessels was turned 180 degrees and unless you were on deck or on a balcony, you did not realize it. Yes, it was that smooth.
About 10 people will embark and about the same number will disembark and we will be on our way to Australia in about an hour - actually, I can feel the ship moving now. The computer room is on deck 2, forward, and movement is more noticeable here.
Cunard sponsors lectures on many different subjects and yesterday and today, Sir David Frost - the one you remember - was the guest lecturer. Today, he was interviewed by the entertainment director and then we in the audience got to ask questions. The hour went by much too quickly but for me, the most memorable answer was to the question of how he, Sir David, would like to be remembered. His answer -"as a good parent - a good father". I hope for the same.
Just before the lecture I discovered that I was sitting next to a former BBC disc jockey of country music, voted the best country music dj in the world!!! He takes a group to Nashville each year and they always have breakfast with Charlie Pride.
This trip has been an unending string of "firsts" including, in December, seeing snow falling on the ocean - rather a waste, if you ask me, but then no one did.
Today, there was a thunder storm on the ocean and the lightning seemed to be much closer but the thunder was dulled somewhat by the engines and the rush of water.
And speaking of water: the North Atlantic in December was a dark, almost brooding slate gray, the waters of the Caribbean were aquamarine blue with frothy white waves, now, in the Indian Ocean, the deepest cobalt blue you can imagine, turning to ice blue-green in the waves created by the ship. And whenever the sun shines in the right direction, the waves created by the ship throw up spume (I have been waiting since the 6th grade to use that word!) and for 1 or 2 seconds there is a rainbow, perhaps only 6 or 7 feet across. Amazing!
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