Reunion, Mauritius, Fremantle, Adelaide, Melbourne, Sydney and Newcastle - I was sick and, independently, the Lenovo computer was sicker,

Monday, February 22, 2016

Yesterday, in desperation, I bought a new computer - an Apple MacBook Air.  Yes, I know, I always said that I would never, ever get an Apple, especially after the trouble with my iPod but, hey because it’s an evil empire, it’s everywhere.  

It has an English keyboard which is a bit difficult after all those years in German and Swedish.  But, it works, I almost understand it and thanks to Jack (from Germany) and Pranav (who likes Germany) I am off to a good start.  

“Jack and Pranav, it was a pleasure to meet you.  I could not have asked for more patient, intelligent and knowledgable people to introduce me to Apple.  Thanks to you both.”

Now, back to my “adventures”:

Reunion (there is an accent mark in French but I have not found it on this keyboard) is a department of France and the citizens are full citizens of France, as much so as someone from Paris or Marseilles.

We docked near the aptly named town of Le Port with the capital city some distance away (45 minutes away we were told).   About 300 of us stood outside, in blazing sunshine, for more than an hour waiting for the shuttle which had been arranged by the ship’s hotel department.  Repeatedly we were told the first shuttle busses would be back in 25 minutes.   This was the first really hot weather we had experienced.  Namibia and Cape Town were warm and/or cool on the same day but Reunion was hot - almost 100 degrees F.

After an hour and sunburned feet, we took the crew bus to the cruise terminal, about 5 minutes away and then a taxi (in Euros, just as in mainland France).  Naturally our sole purpose was to find a post office.  The taxi driver took us directly there and I thought we arranged for him to pick us up about 3 hours later.  

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The post office, for reasons which were never clear, did not have any postcards, and no envelopes except for France or French overseas territories.  So, by this time, it was nearing noon and we set off, walking down the main street.   Most of the shops were closed - siesta, which is not limited to Spain.  

We walked until the bottoms of my feet were burning (the tops having been sufficiently roasted) through the sandals but found no postcards nor anyone interested in selling us much more than food.  There were several “junk” stores, all plastic all the time, with bored Chinese owners sitting outside, doors open but “shop close” was the answer even before we asked.  Aside from stray dogs, some in very bad shape, with mange, sores from fights and very malnourished, there was no one walking.  No wonder!  Quelle surprise!

So after 2 hours of walking and a lot of muttering on my part, we got back to the post office.  We had seen almost all of the town, had lost the way and found a postman who showed us that we were on a parallel street.  

Back at the post office, we explained to one of the most wonderful postal agents in the world (and I have met many) that all the shops were closed.  Our bedraggled appearance probably influenced her - neither of us could stop sweating, our clothes and hair were wet; sweat was actually dripping from the back of my hair.  She “arranged” some envelopes, gave us sheets of paper and stamps so that we could send missives to Germany and Sweden.  I do not know her name

mais Madame, vous etes très belle.  Mille merci !!

We waited an extra 15 minutes for the taxi driver who never returned and then walked across the street to the local bus terminal.  For about $2, we got a bus which took us through some residential sections of Le Port directly back to the ship!  There was a noticeable juxtaposition of slums with trash in front not far from villas behind high walls but with beautiful trees and flowers and shiny cars (mostly French).

A women and a girl about 10 years old got off the bus when we did and asked me if they could visit the ship.  I said that it was not possible because of safety concerns and although they could take photos, there was no way they could get closer.  I wished I had something which I could have given them.  From that day, I have carried post cards from the ship so that if I see bright eyes like that little girl had, I can give them a souvenir of the visit of “le grand bateau”.