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TGT and Lunch

TGT:

Your card arrived yesterday at Dubai.  Thanks for the news and for thinking of me.  And, yes, I was having too much fun to write but will do better!!!!

 Lunch

I do not generally eat lunch but was in front of the dining room just as it opened for lunch so I went in.  Being a social creature, I opted for sharing a table at the window. 

There were 2 places left at a table for 8 and my heart sank as I saw the behemoth following me, slowly, heading for the same table.  This idiot is the reason I do not generally go to the dining room for breakfast or lunch.

This man is well over 6 feet tall (180 cm?) but stooped due to the 350 lbs he weighs.  Massive begins to describe him; also, snobbish, ill-tempered, self-absorbed and smelly.  Since he is travelling alone, he probably does not have anyone to help him wash nor to tell him that he smells. 

His rants against __________________ (fill in the blank on almost any subject) precluded conversation to my left and the very senile but very gentle man (really gentle) apologized for repeating himself just after he had told me the same story – a loop of a story about Germany followed by an apology.  His story-telling was animated and his apology soft and sincere.  Therefore, it was not difficult to listen to him.

Dinner was a joy with lovely people who all got off on 10 January at Southampton.  Then, I was put at a table for 9, all solo travellers including 2 women who were “away from home for the first time”, one Neanderthal who told dirty jokes, a football hooligan and one man who obviously thought he was the Duke of Whatever – dinner begins at 6 pm.  He announced that he never came down before 6:30.  We could order on time but were not served until his food was ready.  So, we never finished before 8 or after, which meant that I was late for the trivia quiz and other were late for the theater.

So, I moved to a table for 4, sitting alone, and invited “guests” most nights.   I had the great pleasure of dining with Tom (the visiting astronomer) and Rita Boles, as well as crew members.

Since yesterday, (Dubai) I am at a table for 6 – let’s see how it goes.

 

 

 

 

 

Horror of Horrors!

Thanks Jan, for the nudge.  I have lots of notes and just have not taken the time to post them.

Wednesday, date ??

Horror of horrors – the Commodore announced that (1) we might not be able to enter the harbor at Pireaus because of the gales we are currently sailing through, and, (2) because we normally load fresh water there, we should be extra careful with the use of water.

Did I ever mention the launderettes aboard?  On several floors, there are washers and dryers, usually 4 of each as well as 2 irons and ironing boards.  I think that would be cause for rejoicing, unless you have a stateroom near said launderette.  They will be closed during the passage of the Suez Canal – let the bitching begin!!!

 

 

 

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Stonehenge

It was a terrible day for a trip – I had to change cabins so had to be out of the deck 11 stateroom by 08:30 but the new room card was not ready.  No, I don’t know why.  One of the 3 intelligent and caring pursers told me to ask for her when I got back.  Thank God, another of the 3 was at the terminal so I was able to get back aboard after a wonderful trip.

 

We drove directly to Stonehenge, from Hampshire to Wiltshire, past seemingly thousands of pigs.  The live outside all year but have metal, Quonset-hut-like structures which are appropriately called, “pigloos”.

 

Stonehenge is located on Salisbury plain, surrounded by nothing except the guide stones and burial mounds of important prehistoric people.  The road rises just enough to make the first sight of Stonehenge especially dramatic.  The car park and visitors’ center are across the highway, and there is a tunnel under the highway so that Stonehenge is not interrupted.

 It’s both larger and smaller than I remembered from a visit about 20 years ago.  The circles seem smaller but the stones larger.  The tour guide – an excellent one – Thanks, Gloria – explained the ages and origins of the stones, how and when they were erected.  She gave us just enough information so that we could enjoy Stonehenge on our own.  As I was leaving, a Druid was entering and stopped me.

 

The wooden staff he was carrying was topped with a ram’s head, complete with horns.  Before I knew it, I was asked to close my eyes and grasp the staff.  Imagination or not, the staff, when pointing north, began to warm as did my hands, and cool when pointing south.  The Druid solemnly announced that I was “enchanted” (“ed” not “ing”) and in harmony with nature; always pleasant to hear from an expert!

One curious note:  it was foggy as we arrived but the fog cleared while we were there and re-formed as the bus climbed the hill when we left.  My enchanted powers?  Probably not. 

 

Salisbury, pronounced “sahlz – bry” by the natives¸is a charming market town with the river Avon running through it.  Actually due to very heavy rains, the river had overflowed its banks onto the already flooded fields.

 

The cathedral, famous for (1) its crooked tower and spire and (2)  an original of the Magna Carta, is well worth a visit.  There is also a working medieval clock full of gears and weights and some elaborate tombs.

 

Salisbury Cathedral:

As many windows in this church we see,

As days within one year there be.

As many marble pillars here appear,

As hours through the fleeting year

As many gates as moons, one year doth view

Strange to tell yet not more strange than true.

The West Indies - 2012

Sometimes I reflect on the events of the world as well as in my life which have transpired since the 1990's, or in the case of the Y2K scare, have not transpired.

One thing which has not changed is how many of the West Indians have sold their souls and their fate to foreigners, or perhaps have been sold out, indentured by their politicians. Every shop and most stands seem to be owned or controlled by Indians - yes, I asked.

Basseterre, St Kitts
Actually named St. Christopher's. We arrived on 26 December, Boxing Day and a legal holiday there, celebrated with carnival-type parades. There were 3 competing bands, each with its own blaring sound truck - reggae meets techno - and followers splashed with the color of their favorite station. Almost everyone, especially the men, was very, very drunk. It was the closest thing to a public orgy I am likely to witness, scenes which ranged from mildly irritating to deeply repulsive, and on 2 occasions, frightening. I was very happy to get back to the ship.

Roseau, DominicaThe largest of the Windward Islands, about 30 miles long and 15+ wide. There are groups of Carib Indians struggling to retain their identity. They called the island Waitikubuli and according to a tour guide I overheard, many Carib villages retain their original names.

Castres, St Lucia

Named for St Lucy by Christopher Columbus who spotted it on December 13th, 1502, feast day of Santa Lucia, but did not go ashore. Good thing for him as the Carib Indians had a fearsome reputation. After many yars of disputes and at least 14 battles between the English and French, the island became English and in 1979, fully independent.

Curious at first: the postage stamps have no adhesive; there were bottlers of Elmer's glue on the counters. Reason: the intense humidity would cause the stamps to adhere to each other and anything else long before a letter or postcard was in sight.

Philipsburg, St Maarten

Two-thirds French, one third Dutch. There was a water taxi from the new pier into across to the town, fast and inexpensive. The town was bustling, with tourists and locals. Of course, the same luxury jewelry shops but also lots of small shops, a large salt water lake in the middle of town, a very Christian bookshop and really friendly people. But, it was Saturday so no post office.

Charlotte Amalie, USVI

The last stop, on a Sunday, and the only cruise ship in the harbour. Only the luxury shops were open with the Indian owners hovering in the background. The stalls were empty and rows of taxis stood unused, empty buildings and trash blowing in the street - a sad end to the old year.

Wednesday, 19 December 2012

 STORM!!!!! The ship rocked and rolled all through the night and things crashed all around me.  A cup flew across the room, the box of tissues followed and then there was a tremendous crash in the stateroom above me sometime in the middle of the night.  It sounded like a tray of dishes.  A few minutes ago, the partition separating my balcony from the stateroom next door broke open – clang, bang.  According to the Captain, we had a force 11 storm with winds of 65 knots!

Right now, the wind is blowing at 51 knots, we are still rocking and rolling – 5 bars on the scale and heavy, heavy rain.  The decks and balconies are closed and locked.  The wind is force 10!!

I have had hay fever for the past 2 days.  My nose is raw and my throat scratchy.  My nose runs fairly constantly and it’s uncomfortable and embarrassing but not much more than that.  Years ago when I was in France in late April, the usual time for hay fever, I got some medicine at a pharmacy, without a prescription – Phenergan.  When I got back to Germany, my pharmacist said that it was prescribed for psychosis.  Perhaps if hay fever attacks last too long, you automatically become psychotic.  Anyway, I am desperate enough to take a pill and perhaps fall asleep in the Queen’s Room.

This evening marks the beginning of the Captain’s Cocktail Parties time – it’s really a “Sauffest” – German for all you can drink, in this case, for free.  I order a rum-less, mint-less mojito (read: lime soda), which I hold in a jaunty, I’m-really-grown-up manner and blend right in.   Fortunately, I have already seen and spoken to several passengers I met during this part of the trip last year, and, am looking forward to two more, people from my table last Christmas.

OK, time for the pill and as much Spanish homework as I can get done before the morning trivia quiz.

Morning trivia quiz is over – he asked questions which I knew so I got 18 out of 20.  It’s called “Team Trivia” and you can have teams of up to 6.  I played on a team once and it was so unpleasant that I now play on the Team of Me.  It works very well – I am never disappointed when I do not know the answer.

 

 

Canoeing - me?

A short, very amazing adventure:

I have a friend, Bernard, who is the closest to a Renaissance man I have ever met:  a university trained engineer, fluent in (at least) 3 languages, an almost if not professional photographer, plumber, electrician, mason, carpenter, a quick wit in German and English with a devilish sense of humor and intellectual interests ranging from business administration to finance, politics (American, German, European), travel, cars, sailing and on and on.  He is also tall and extremely good-looking.

We try to meet for lunch 2 or 3 times a year and generally have a long lunch before I get on the train for the 2 hour ride home.

Last month, we met on a Friday, after my futile trip to a consulate and the unsuccessful attempt to get a visa, unsuccessful because there was a form necessary which was not listed in the internet.  In the middle of our usual Italian lunch, B said, " What about canoeing?"  At that moment, he might as well have suggested vandalizing a cemetery or eating a plastic bag for dessert.  However, not being one to reject a non-lethal adventure immediately, I temporized, all the while thinking, "Me, canoe?? Does not compute!"

But, the weather was lovely and the other suggestion would have been something inside, so I agreed.  Have you ever noticed that the anticipation of something scary is much worse than the actual fact?

It seemed like a giant leap (and not for mankind) from the pier into the canoe but I made it with only one splinter in my hand, quickly removed.  And we were off, at a leisurely float with the occasional paddle (he did the paddling).  Within about 20 seconds I forgot that I was in a canoe, that I could not swim well and would probably die of fright from the proximity of seaweed and fish and that I would have to come back twice for the visa.  It was wonderful, floating along tributaries of the Alster, with a view of the backs and gardens of magnificent houses, and (my favorite) weeping willows hanging over the water. 

Although we were in the middle of Germany's 2nd largest city, there were times when the only sounds were from the birds with the occasional splash of the paddle, a sure-cure for whatever ails you.

Thanks, Bernard.

PS:  those houses I mentioned?  The average price is about €19,000  per square meter.   That's about $24,600 for about 11 square feet so if you have an extra €2m, there is at least one house for sale - we saw the sign.