WHERE IN THE WORLD ARE BOB AND REUEL? ... AND WHO ARE THIS BOB AND REUEL ANYWAY

2014. FOUR TRAVELERS FULL OF EXPECTATIONS.

COPENHAGEN TO NEW YORK. ROYAL PRINCESS TRANS-ATLANTIC CRUISE. SEPT. 7-27, 2014.

TO COPENHAGEN. SUNDAY SEPT 7

PACK-MAN

Easy-peasy, cab is early, and boy are we Ready. Driver says plenty of time and I say why don't you drive us around the park first. We realize that, as happens so often, my joking misfires and he's taking me seriously. "Joking" Bob and I shout in unison. Easy peasy, the curbside check in, and since we are both TSA pre-checked (a perk of being really old is our surmise about that) no fuss through security (no shoes flung on conveyer belts, no being felt up [flipside--curse of being old?]).

As we sit and wait, an hour early, we decide the travel checklist has been checked off though I've forgotten to weigh myself this AM. Yesterday 151 which is a bearable enough lightness of being. Permission to gorge oneself into obesity this trip, Captain? Granted.

We wait for Beth. Bob says that it’s strange waiting for someone, we who always travel only with one another. A new adventure this that we've cooked up with our nieces.

And there's Beth, all in black, black bags. "I'm shell shocked" she declares. Understood. This has been an unholy early rising for all.

Boarding. We paid a few bucks extra to be Group 1. Easier dealing with our carry-ons. This turns out to be a dandy idea since there is much contortionism on this "completely full flight". (They lie--Bob and I, aisles across, have no middle seat companions. Was the airline warned about us?) Inches achieve importance. The attendants become expert ergonometric geometricians. Anyway, the non-stop to NYC must be popular.

  

The carefully arranged fruit and cheese plate seems measured by an eyedropper, 5 nuts, 2 raisins 13 small grapes, one of which Bob takes to accompany his spare hummus in a squeegee snack (but he likes it just fine.)

 People who sleep on airplanes when others struggle to do so are inconsiderate wretches. (From this characterization, for reasons of the sanctity of my marriage, I will need to exempt my happily and lengthily somnolent husband).

Landed and luggaged, the trio boards the air train--cool--except my bags slide along the floor like some outer space prank--from Terminal 7 to the other end of JFK, Terminal 1. Beth hears from Nancy that she's already on the shuttle from Newark Airport. Guess she wants to spend the endless hours with us floating like Tom Hanks in that Airport movie in-terminally (hee hee) waiting for our plane 6 hours hence.

I manage to leave behind not once but twice my shoulder bag, first on the plane, rescued by a nice young man, "your bag sir" (ahem), then on the air train rescued by Beth. Whew. First signs of dementia? No. Wouldn't be first.

Then we wait for the Norwegian air counter to open in 45 minutes or so.

Meanwhile entertained by a young guy doing a hip hop pretzel whether for his own or his compadres’ delectation is not clear. The counter clerks are having a pre-work meeting, not one looking Norwegian. Sub-Saharan more likely.

HIP-HOP-FLY

  

Beth is pleased that actual human beings process us and do it quickly at the check in. "Fairly painless" is her verdict. Bob and I free ourselves of all four of our bags (much over-packing having occurred--Beth wins with comparatively light paraphernalia.  Nancy arrives, great timing, has packed like a true cruise passenger and is looking great.

SUNDAY SEPT 7. TO COPENHAGEN

[Let's see if I can recollect the day's events which I thought I’d lost with one errant click of a button. Although it’s a not unknown mishap for me at least, I find the “lost” notes, but here’s the recollection anyway and the continuing first hand notations. 

Also not unknown is the sleepless night before an early departure. So many checks to place in front of the long to do list. What have we forgotten? Swim Goggles? Check. Sign for the cabin door: "turn on plane mode". Check. (Consequence of not doing so is dire = dollar.)

Before the appointed 6:15 our cab arrives in the semi-light and we have long been ready for it. When the driver says we've plenty of time, I say well why not drive us through the park first. Not for the first time a Reuel joke misfires and we simultaneously shout "Joke" before he can follow that bizarre instruction.

We'll be an hour early at the gate because everything flows with scary ease. Easy peasy the street baggage, the check in and especially easy peasy the security check. We are TSA special access (TPN, Terrorists Probably Not or some such). We opine that this courtesy is because we are old and therefore we are in a dedicated short fast line and not required to take off our shoes or get felt up (disadvantage of being old?).

And then Beth arrives at the gate where we've been sitting having been chauffeured to the airport by son Jordy. She's all in black including smart new black bag which seems appropriate because like Nina in the Seagull who's in mourning for her life she announces mournfully that she's Shell Shocked or some such. The transport part of traveling is a trial for our dear niece. I overcompensate and say fun fun fun ahead. Gamely she assents there will be but clearly it will occur later, later later.

What's with me, early onset dementia? I forget my shoulder bag on the airplane, rescued by the nice window seat young man. "You left this sir." Sir? Really? Then on the Air train after we'd travelled from terminal 7 to 1. This time rescued by the niece.

Of JFK's Air Train, it's cool, a modern thing taking us on a journey from one end of the futuristic airport to the other. Only problem our luggage rolls around on the slick floors and nimble limbs are required to contain this phenom. Aboard, a constantly texting Beth discovers that Nancy is at this moment on the shuttle from Newark Airport to JFK.]

SISTERS

And there she is not far behind us as we check in at the Norwegian counter-- where the wait for a phalanx of uniformed attendants to open it is not long. Good to see her and she's looking well.

Security I've decided is a humiliating and distressing ritual but here not too painful and our hungry group is soon gathered to find food.

BAR FOOD FOR STARTERS

Consistent with the classiness of the bar food bar that we find ourselves in by default (the Todd English-style restaurants are of course in the other terminals) the lady with the New Yorrrk  accent shouts to her husband and all gathered in the terminal: "It's late--we'd better get the fuck outta here."

Well we're all hungry. A Stella Artois for B and R. The girls are sharing a salad. When the tiny thing arrives Nancy says "We're going to starve".

We are not starved for conversation however--lots of questions, fewer answers--they will come; that's the idea--and the time passes quickly until we go off to the KAL "prestige" Lounge operated by Japan Air Lines and the girls go off to shop--pleasant atmosphere and plentiful pour-thine-own booze for us to spend the final 2 1/2 hours of waiting time.

I get to write a business email to our loan broker with suggestions on how to handle the appraiser scheduled in our absence which Bob declares contains "too much information" but I don't want to leave stones unturned. Time passes quickly, and we both agree we really like airport lounges.

LOUNGE? WHY NOT.

Maybe it’s because we bought their happy meals they figured us for big spenders, Norwegian Air, because we're seated right behind biz class or maybe I bought premium seats--don't remember. Anyway where are Beth & Nancy? It's boarding time. Ah there they are -- waiting.

Lo and behold we have bulkhead seats. Wow. Beautiful modern comfortable plane. We had been making lame jokes about cardboard seats and rubber bands for propellers in this budget airline but this is a Boeing 787 Dreamliner for god’s sake.

    

They've got this super-duper seat tv touch screen but I can't find my earbuds. Did I leave them on the last plane?  What the hell. Traveling is an exercise in frustration.

Interesting. I watch my neighbor's screen and can tell what's going on without the sound. Must mean what I see is worthy stuff cinematically.

We're served a hot mean, a stew, gratis plus gratis wine. What's with the prepay nonsense for their Tasty Meal?

ROOM TO WIGGLE YOUR TOES.

MONDAY SEPT 8. ALOFT.

"USE YOUR INSIDE VOICE."

Hours and hours later I've not slept yet all around me are (except my neighbor watching what are for me "silents") snuggled in the arms of Morpheus. I can't find it in my heart to feel fondness toward them--Bob, out cold in his sleep mask, exempted of course. I will be a mess. Copenhagen will be a blur. But I've got to remember to look up the last movie my neighbor and I by default was watching, a Clint Eastwood, to find out what the hell really was going on. I've lost my shirt button somewhere, the one I sewed on, I’ve spilled cream on my new chinos. I'm a thousand and one calamities (and had better get used to it, it would seem).

Breakfast is juice, a pretzel bread (which I eschew) and provolone cheese (which I chew) sandwich and an oat and honey grain thing which is quite good and crunchy, must be healthy because in my romantic memory the Danes (ah but these might be Norwegians-same type for all I know and for our purposes) were tall and lovely; that was 50 years ago when I last visited Copenhagen. Have they changed? And how have I? I shall make that my theme song and bore the hell out of my companions. Already have with my tale of seeing Marlene Dietrich, a hero to the Danes for her anti-Nazi stance, singing in sultry form-fitting spangled gown "Falling in Luf Again" (ah Luf) at Tivoli Gardens.

Written on the little gifty boxy envelope containing the breakfast there's a quote from Sonja Henie (was she Norwegian?). "Is there an adventure more exciting than meeting new people and finding out what lives within them?" I liked ice skating movie star Sonja Henie (but her philosophy is superior to what her chances would be in the Olympics today.)

HAPPY TO BE IN THE HAPPIEST NATION

We get through our landing in Copenhagen in fine fettle. With the exception of Bob we are terribly sleep deprived. Beth and Nancy barely slept and we know my story. Nevertheless we collect our bags without incident,  pass through passport check tout suite, find a van taxi to support us and our not inconsiderable luggage, and 1/2 hour and $63 later we are at our fairly modest boutique hotel, apparently housed in a building built in the 1600's but you wouldn't know it from the modern interior.

Our 4th floor double bed room at the Best Western City is larger than our nieces but their two-twin room has a better view of buildings. It's a surprisingly warm day so with no air conditioning we open the windows to capture a breeze.

BEST WESTERNS ARE NICE  IN EUROPE

Beth's idea that we shower and relax for an hour is a splendid one. Trying to gerry rig the charger to charge my iPhone is a challenge. We provide piles of cups and shampoos to support the contraption that’s now plugged into the wall socket.

ON THE CANAL

Here we are on the canal boat tour after having consulted with the very pleasant desk lady.

We start at Nyhavn--gorgeous waterway, boats, lined with cafes

Our guide is trilingual:

WILCOMMEN, BIENVENUE, WELCOME

ROYAL THEATRE

ROYAL OPERA HOUSE.

Very low bridge

New Royal Playhouse 2008. Royal Theatre there.

A famous architect (who?) designed the royal opera.

Then naval shipyard.

Royal ship.

Fortress 1746.

White sculptures.

ROYAL YACHT

A MERMAID WHO'S . . . LITTLE

WANNA LIVE IN A BIOSPHERE?

It's getting windy glad we have our leather jackets on.

The little mermaid is, um, little. She lost various body parts.

The royal pavilions. Where the royal family docks.

Bldg with blue eyes.

STOCK EXCHANGE

WATCH YOUR HEAD!

The David in front of the Royaliseum.

Royal residences queen on left. Royal Prince on right.

King gave this boggy area away for free to anyone in 17thc.

ARCHITECTURAL MUSEUM

Copenhagen's canals are narrower than Amsterdam’s

.

It's really pretty says Beth. Love the mix of the old and the modern.

The black diamond--library.

The biosphere

Stock exchange with dragon spire.

Danish national bank. Arne Jacobson architect and furniture designer. Many copper roofs in Denmark. We pass Noma best in world Michelin-starred restaurant

We walk along the street beyond the dock and once leaving find our own lovely courtyards beyond archways.  We wander into the Hotel Angle Terre which is posh, too posh for some in our party to have drinks there, so we march on, the rain subsiding. Beth loves the apple slices we get, a gift from a vendor, as we try to select a place to drink.

Finally settling into a canal side bar outdoors, with blankets, heaters and gorgeous view we have a roaring good time. “I'm so glad I’m off that fucking plane,” says Beth.

Nancy asks what if I had an iphonectomy. I said I'd bare it all. We're now in Café Holberg, just down the block from the Best Western. It was this or going to a grocery store that also sells wine. The café is an excellent quirky choice as we order from the one pretty employee who prepares our sandwiches, my tapas, and presents our bottle of wine. 

SUBTLETY ABOUNDS

A QUIET PLACE

CONSTRUCTION IN CITY SQUARE

AT CAFE HOLBERG

We agree to meet at 10 after breakfasting separately, a sop to Beth and Nancy who are at some odds as to sleep patterns.

TUES SEPT 9 COPENHAGEN, DENMARK.

Our hotel lobby. Very Danish modern.

 After a luxe buffet breakfast--we're surprised by the breadth of offerings--I have fruit and cold cuts, dark bread, cheese, everything I think is Northern Europe, Bob insisting it's all over Europe. Very nice in pleasant Danish modern (surprise) setting.

After checking the oh so slow charging of the iPhone, we set out for a walk along the nearby dock in the cool, leather jacket-worthy temperature. Turn into the insanely picturesque Nyhavn of yesterday's canal boat tour alongside the bicyclists everywhere apparent.

Meet the girls at 10. Not well charged drat but off we go. Thinking of taking a walk.

At the former royal palace Nancy and I enter the royal stables-you can just walk in and see the horses and carriages. Tow-headed teens in groups pass by, a pretty, healthy tall people these. Pop into the national museum, delighted that it's free.

Doll houses of Danish life. I join a docent tour. About Christiana, founded by hippies in the 60's.  Flouted bourgeois society, the nuclear family.  Created a self-governing society. Continues today as an experiment.

BABY NEEDS NEW SHOES.

HOTTIE AT COPENHAGEN'S FREE MUSEUM

WE'LL SEE ALL THIS.

FAMOUS DEPT. STORE

Arne Jacobson (great Danish architect) with Nancy.

Gladly posed with this costume he was carrying (for what? Ballet? Opera?)

CRYPT

A DANISH HIPPIE?

We go off on our own, Bob, Nancy and Beth. I continue back in time thru Danish history (I just caught the docent finishing the 60's).

We wait downstairs for Beth and Nancy to shop. Then just Nancy but it is good to rest. We talk of my fatness, Nancy says I'm her "chunkle". We chuckle. And head for Tivoli gardens as my battery, drat, expires.

AT THE ROYAL STABLES

On the way we see a Danish furniture museum on the ground floor of an office building, sit in some of the lovely famous design chairs, Beth and I (at least my excuse is my incipient, just diagnosed arthritis --more no doubt on that later) have rather a lot of difficulty rising out of the hanging basket chair, and we take some proffered apples--nice moment and we've paid homage to renowned Danish modern design (noting that brother Arthur and first sister-in-law Toby bought Danish modern furniture when they were in Copenhagen. Beth, who was five then when they were abroad for Arthur's six month assignment in Basil Switzerland doesn't remember any details of Copenhagen, just that she was there, pretty much similar to my recollections also from that era).

OUR HORSEY

AND OUR CARRIAGE AWAITS

(Recollected) Tivoli Gardens. There it is. As I remember it from almost exactly 50 years ago. Actually I lie. All I remember are fairy lights and seeing begowned, impossibly sophisticated Marlene Dietrich perform and hearing and sensing the waves of adulation from the Danes at her appearance.  I'd forgotten the larger light bulb fixtures, the other performance venues, none of the above in operation as it's the afternoon. But it is lunch time so we head for the very posh Nimb Hotel, beefeater doorman standing sentinel, fancy shmancy interiors.  We pass through the well-appointed lounge. Our own concierge had recommended it when I enquired about a fine hotel bar yesterday.

PARLIAMENT/ROYAL PALACE

It turns out to be just the ticket as we settle into its brasserie restaurant, an enclosed outdoor logia, at the behest of our charming young waiter who gets points for laughing at my jokes. Beth: “Are there bones in the herring?” He. "No." Me. “Then we won't have it. We like bones in our fish." We order a tangy Syrah and a sandwich each. Beth and I order the fried herring with elder flower (Beth. What's that? Nancy. You, my elder sister, are my elder flower.) mainly because we want to go authentic "when in Copenhagen". Quite nice pickled taste. Magnificent crunchy dark bread--open faced as is the local custom. Same for Nancy and her lovely salmon sandwich (very good) and Bob's chicken salad. About $35 each--not bad considering.

Then a little tour around the park, to watch in fascination the gaggles of teens being flung around on gyrating machines or dropped from great heights from towers; a little shopping for us to buy the inevitable snow globe of the inevitable little boring mermaid (actually makes one of our campier globes) and Beth and Nancy less selfishly to buy gifts for others.

Then to wend our way Home with much consulting with our street map. Do we turn right from Hans Christian Anderson Blvd. along the greensward? Should there be a canal there? Yikes there are a hundred bicyclists ready to mow us down. Get out of the bicycle lane (in Copenhagen it seems it's safer to stand in vehicular traffic).

INCOGNITO

OUR NEXT PURCHASE

COURTYARD BETWIXT THE TWO ROYAL RESIDENCES

LET'S HAVE A PICNIC

We stop at Copenhagen’s equivalent of Whole Foods, picking up our ship boarding requisite allowable bottle of wine per person as well as provisions for an in-room picnic. Which, a few hours later we have. The girls join us--we've got the sofa and what will pass as a dining table--accompanying the ham sandwiches and chips is the red wine which flows as does the laughter and some tear laden conversation. No topic untouched. Relationships with difficult parents, difficult spouses. Expectations too high. Demons too assertive. Reuel dissertating that life always holds some hope, joy even, if momentary, that death then is to be despised.  Sounds devastating? We're having a great time, as only people who understand one another can, especially when the wine is liberally poured.

Walking along the harbor after exiting the Admiral Hotel, once a granary, now an expensive hotel, I point to our ship in the distance. We could almost walk there with our luggage clackity on the cobblestones. Like dray horses says Bob.

NOIR

JAZZ IN THE BEDROOM

We pass a magnificent dwelling. Bob says we could be happy there. I say I can be happy anywhere after yesterday, when I saw a cell of poor people with a cot and small window in the museum. He says he saw renaissance dwellings of burghers. They lived very well. We had different experiences and emerged with different philosophies.

Cleaning lady (a Caucasian Dane, not an ethnic--very few of those around) knocks. "We'll be out in 5 minutes." Bags packed and ready.

WED SEPT 10. ALL ABOARD.

This morning waking refreshed more or less considering help from daddy's little helper (aka Ambien).

BIKES EVERYWHERE

ROYAL PRECINCT--MOM'S AND SON'S HOUSES

ROYAL GUARD'S AT WORK

Bob regards this hotel as serving one of the best breakfasts we've had. And we have had breakfasts. I remind him of some of the Asian breakfast spreads with their mysterious, delicious noodley things. Suddenly reminded that the theme of this hotel is jazz and jazz musicians playing jazz as there is one in black and white playing balefully on the cafeteria's, I mean breakfast room's, wall TV. Neat, jazz musicians blowing Saxes and staring out everywhere, in the lobbies, the elevator, behind the bed, some iconic architects too depicted large and mutually, smoking pipes benignly content with their erections, um with their edifices.

In lobby by 11:15. Van taxi picks us up at 11:30. At ship by 11:45. Priority has entrance at 12 and in our cabin by 12:10. Voila. Loved being called Sir Reuel by the ship card photographer. Foretelling of things to come.

OUR DECK PORT SIDE

HOME FOR 17 DAYS

Lovely mini-suite of course but I note that our balcony is indeed smaller than the older versions of Princess ships and no plugs by our bed for night iPhone reading and writing.

"LEGAL" HOOCH

Being preferred types, we'll take lunch now in the sparsely-filled Concerto dining room. R. bay shrimp and avocado appetizer (lovely) and salmon, really good as are the al dente vegetables. B. Chickpea soup. Lovely. Ravioli main: "Not a lot of flavor".

We bump into Beth and Nancy on line at the tour desk and we determine that our preferred tour of Kristiansand, Norway has been canceled; so we choose another one together in the afternoon, something about a little fishing village. Whatever.

COMPLIMENTARY CHAMPS IS MORE ENJOYABLE THAN UNCOMPLIMENTARY

Then it’s time to get our internet up and running in the internet room with a very gay Jason (a rare American crew member) instructing. The internet center is much smaller on this ship. I suppose that's because more people are using devices other than PC's to get online these days and besides Princess wants to preserve space, evident as well in the balconies, 1/2 the length of those of yore. Oh well, no biggee. An Asian woman did turn to me and complain about the "waste of space", that there is no outlet in the bathroom. Really? Before sailing I read in Trip Adviser that the Royal got a score in the 60's compared to other older ships in the fleet. Wonder if it's justified. Bob later notes that the Princess theatre is smaller than the others and I note that there are 3 repeat performances on sea days resultingly. Yes "cram them in" is not a luxe concept.

Back in our frankly comfortable cabin, our steward Gau says his piece and then brings us our glasses of champs which we toast and slurp on our balcony, big enough at least to accommodate that essential ritual.

Bob is finished packing--bravo--at 3:15 and Reuel has um bypassed his stomach issues so happiness reigns and relaxation can descend.

Muster drill finds us in the art gallery where we have to endure the sight of all that crap during the drill. Reuel has trouble with his flotation device and Bob never gets to put his on, unnoticed in this his lamentable state by the monitors when the drill is mercifully over. Nasty lemming crawl and then we are freed to flout the rules for the remainder of the cruise.

The girls knock at our door at 6 pm. We negotiate a schedule for the evening and decide on early dinner and show, but first to the bar. Crooners piano bar (sans piano this time) is overwhelmed by country sounds from the plaza below so we move on to the wheelhouse bar adjacent to the Crown Grill. 3 007's (that's vodka martinis to the uninitiated--turns out the girls blanked at the James Bond reference--shaken and not stirred).

WHEELHOUSE BAR

Beth and Nancy salmon, Bob ratatouille, Reuel a prime rib which breaks the spell of bad prime rib the first day and great later. Pretty good now. The food however comes out slowly and we barely make it to the theatre where we need to stand at the rear of the balcony. One musical number and female cruise director talking about activities, introducing her staff and then a terrible comedian, Sam Katz, who has no class or wit. Jokes about placing firecrackers on his wife's toilet seat--ha ha--and feeble joking about golfing and hunting--and a lot of dandy games. What do we get?  Nada.

Outta there. Dance band combo with singer good as are the cruise staff guys trying to entice people to dance on the dance floor area of the Piazza, one who is especially funny and limber limbed. Beth and I are enticed and give dancing a good show only to see Bob and Nancy gone (she goes shopping without notifying Bob who goes to the cabin without telling me. Oh well).

Unbearable. On bed and Anxious to see a response to my emails concerning a business transaction and the damned satellite internet is unresponsive. Waiting. Waiting.

Doesn't help that both Bob and I are testy and on edge. Mutual recrimination.  Bob says I'm hyper--in recollection I think he's right. Was it the Ambien I've been taking? Better to be sleepless.

Good night.

THURS SEPT 11. KRISTIANSAND, NORWAY.

Do you believe sitting on our balcony  5:15 at this idyllic moment a martini in hand classical music flowing from the tv, that I've erased the day with one inadvertent stroke. Oy.

The ship is leaving Kristiansand, Norway with its Love Boat theme horn salute I take my first sip (scout’s honor) and then erase the day.

But is it erased? What of real memory??? Better try to recollect here as much as I remember--there will not be the detailed notes of the guides' narratives. But maybe some sort of impressionistic recall without the purportedly clever snippets from the principals' conversations.

This is lovely, sailing past the rocky cliffs. Can't fault Norway's vaunted scenery though we didn't get to see the fjords that I promised everyone (ourselves) would be a highlight of this spectacular cruise.

Morning. It's 9/11 and thirteen years after the attack on our shores the current president is announcing that we have to fear a new brand of terrorists and we'd better act.

MUSHROOM HEAD

MUSHROOM OMELET

First thing when Bob gets up I apologize for my bizarre behavior the previous evening resulting from my palpable angst. (I became frustrated and anxious when things were not going according to plan and we couldn't find our destinations on the ship. It took everyone to assure me that I'm not responsible for their having a good time, especially Beth and Nancy's good time, to calm me down.) I explain that the cause was in large part the culmination of two days of Ambien and that in future no matter how sleepless I am, that will no longer be the remedy.

All is forgiven and as Bob drinks his coffee I run up to the fitness center for stretch class. Pert blonde Uli does a great job with the 25 or so of us limb stretching participants (all over 60).

Then it's breakfasting in the dining room like civilized folk (the idea is to fool them that we are.) Frittata con fungi is dry, bland, not hot enough but I enjoy mine more than Bob who thinks the bread pieces offer too much starch with the polenta. (We may also have had a piece of delicious pastry.)

Internet. It's a struggle. We happen upon Beth also in that crowded space, she also having problems with the damned satellite system and passwords to get in (in her case something to do with her former married name intruding on the pure and true patronymic Olin--a not uncommon but troublesome complication for many women). We agree to meet to walk into the town.

FARMERS MARKET

Walking tour. We're in Norway! Not everyone can say that. And today we are blessed with gorgeous weather. Apparently Kristiansand (the tour lady in her tv presentation kept pronouncing it "stand" much to not only my but Nancy's annoyance--apparently many places are named after that early Norse King Christian--so get it right) is the sunniest "city" (5th largest at only 85,000) in Norway. That's not saying much.

The Norwegians get only 1 to 5 hours of sunlight in the winter which probably explains a lot about them. Anyway, the town is charming, big town square, pretty flowers. Contrast between the post 1892 (year of the great fire here I think) concrete construction and the pre-fire white wooden houses--we peer into some windows because that's our right as nosy tourists.

THERE ARE HOMOSEXUALS IN NORWAY! WHO KNEW?

Today the Norwegians pay top dollar to live in these city center dwellings (we'll learn all this later on the "real" tour). They (all 5 million of them) are a prosperous people (oil rich in recent years) soaked by the capitalist state which charges a 35% tax in addition to monopolistic levies on alcohol and cigarettes providing in turn welfare state health care, and aid to the poor and refugees. I love it that Norwegian men, shut in by the cold and light (stay-at-homes) are fixated with the internet ( theirs works apparently), marry foreigners, such as Thai and Philippine women they've found online. I never do discover what happens to the beautiful blonde Norwegian women. Thus I guess a “pure” race begins to meld into the rest of the world.

THEY WOULDN'T LET ME HAVE A DOG. SO . . .

NANCY HAS A REAL DOG.

Abandoning the girls to their shopping in the town we grab a quick bite on our first visit to this ship's Horizon court--a plus, well laid out--nicely abstemious hot and sour soup plus slice of bread (Bob) and healthy salad (Reuel).

Official Tour. Mark, "not a Viking" but an Italian, is our guide. Funny years ago in Rome we had a private Swedish guide. This one is Mr. Personality, amusing.

This is the default tour--we missed the popular all day cruise to Lilienthal--consisting of a drive thru of the city we walked through, a one hour tour of a museum farm with typical 16th and 17th c dwellings (fascinating) and a walk through a "fishing village" (disappointing) though you can't fault the scenery.

OUR CHARMING DOCENT

Of the dwellings--14 family members lived in one room, though the children slept in the barn with the animals--kept them warm. We see Viking carvings on the armature that holds the kettle in the middle of the room. A superstitious people, they believed lying flat was only for the dead and that if you did sleep that way, your soul would leave you so they slumbered sitting up in small beds (which also, advantageously, didn't take up much space).

REV UP YOUR GOATS

WHAT'S YOUR SLEEP NUMBER?

We see the granary next door which also housed the dead in the winter because it was impossible to bury them in the frozen soil. The roofs of the houses were planted and grassy. When the grasses got too long they would let their goats "mow" the grass on the roof.

MINI BYNNE

All this information is delivered by a beautiful and charming young woman dressed in native costume. She leads us down to the town where there is a "mini bynne" of a village in miniature. Impressive though I'm filled with such hilarity at the oversized dolls representing villagers that tears roll down my face and Nancy, my companion at the exhibit, is alarmed. In the "town" the furnished rooms reveal the lives of the more prosperous 18th century inhabitants. There's a general store called a "colonial" store because they imported so much from elsewhere, tea and coffee for example. (This is true today in Norway, where there is very little in the way of indigenous goods.)

COLONIAL STORE

THE BOURGEOISIE

NORWEGIAN TOWHEADS

FISHING VILLAGE

The scenery as we wend our way home is beautiful.

Zumba in the upstairs sports court.

Drinks. Afterward, did you put the caper berries back in the fridge? I did in fact. (Note: We're ready for our 6:30 meet with the girls for dinner.)

The Wait in the Lounge. We have Chardonnays which we take with us to our awaiting table.

Server John from Crimea is worried about his family.

Two bottles of wine and we have a jolly good time. There's never any lack of conversation. Appetizers. Bob. Pineapple thing with pistachios and some kind of cream. Good. Others have Shrimp and Scallops. Very nice. Bob and Beth Pea Soup. They like. My shrimp soup--Brilliant.

Beth, lamb shrank. Good. (nice rich sauce). Nancy's and my fish is "over cooked".  Bob. Beef Medallions well cooked. Dessert. Bob and I key lime pie. Oh joy. Memories of Key West. Beth notes I'm tearful. Earlier Bob said you've got a lot of memories. I responded that's ‘cause I'm old.  Nancy enjoys, she says, "mousse on a brownie". It's heart shaped and lovely to look at.

JOIN ME

GRAND PIAZZA IS REALLY SOMETHING

THE GLASS SEAWALK BRINGS OUT MY AGORAPHOBIA. BRAVE NIECES.

CAN'T GET ENOUGH OF THE RUSSKY ACROBATS

Then an hour on the computer responding to bad news messages now funneled through Bob's email. (Mine having rejected my password -- drat) re. the misinformed appraisal and my doctor's response to my lab reports—cut out "toxic" vitamin D (huh?). Hey we Will survive.

FRIDAY SEPTEMBER 12, AT SEA.

This is a busy day starting with stretch at 7. I'm there early enough to get a place and empathize with those plaintive looking folks standing in the doorway unable to join the class because it’s too crowded. The strapping young instructor (Romanian?) asks if he's expected to instruct on the ceiling (since there appears to be no place for him).

In time to collect Bob and run upstairs for a bite in the Horizon court--scrambled eggs with asparagus for both of us (what's with the surfeit of asparagus?) and then to grab our places in Zumba, unfortunately scheduled in the tv studio (Princess Live) which is too small for all those who want to participate.

Plenty of time for the guy beside me in the first row to chat me up (very chattily). He and his wife were on the previous segment, Copenhagen to St. Petersburg, and enjoyed unseasonably warm weather. He complains about the lack of an indoor pool and that, though they're spending $16,000 on their cruise, they feel nickel and dimed especially because there's no general admission sauna and steam room. (Agreed.) Actually this beautiful ship has its pros and cons (including to my mind inadequate space for indoor Zumba).

DON'T TRY THAT AT HOME

 Bob and I see Brazilian line dancing in progress in the p

Piazza and I join in. Fun.

12:00. Pub Lunch. One of our favorite "activities" is enjoying a Strongbow hard cider with a Ploughman’s lunch (Bob) and a steak and kidney pie (Reuel). When we're finished, there's an enormous line for this specialty lunch. Jeez.

Amazing acrobats in the Piazza, I guess a sort of adagio team no doubt from Russia or the Baltics where they do this stuff. The woman is always in form fitting spangley suit and always has wonderful arm hand movements; the man as here is always strong like bull.

1:30 investment lecture. For the 21st century.  This old guy looks serious. Alan Schreiber. Will do this every sea day.

Bond is a debt instrument. Risk reward relationship. Understand the risk. Look at the Rating. (See handout). Call feature.

Yield to maturity.

If have bond portfolio with higher rate of interest than norm now. Can sell at profit. Conversely...

Joke. Man will inherit his sick father’s fortune. Finds beautiful woman to marry by promising fortune he will inherit in a few years. In 3 days she is married . . . as his stepmother. (Point: Women are great financial planners.)

I've been dozing during the lecture, not necessarily the fault of the lecturer who is lively enough but that I'm tired as is Bob who I find napping in the room. Good idea so I follow suit.

Call Beth to make arrangements and find, poor thing that she's been sleeping most of the day because of a cold (flu?) that she developed.

$230? REALLY? I'LL PASS.

I'LL JUST TASTE.

TV SHOW LIVE.

FIRST FORMAL NIGHT. ARE WE READY? YES.

Down (most events are down from our suite on the 15th floor) to the Culinary Academy. Apparently they do a number of cooking shows and since this one’s in the Princess Live it is being recorded. And we're the audience. Interesting.

18 different dining options. Today they start by highlighting the cuisine of the specialty (fee) dining venues, like Ocean Terrace, Crown Grill and Sabatini's Italian. It's the master chef who's demonstrating accompanied by the paunchy young Scottish deputy cruise director who is very glib (and gay).

The Captain’s champagne party. A silly ritual, inviting guests to "assist" the Maître D’ in pouring champagne over a pyramid of empty glasses. It's an opportunity to show off one’s formal finery (on this formal night).

LOVE THE GEISHAS AT THE CHAMPS FOUNTAIN

Concerto. Appetizers: Beth and asparagus soup with salmon. “Wonderful.” Bob: Stilton mousse. Cheese “wonderful”.

Bob and Nancy: Peanut butter pie. "Could be more peanut buttery".

R. Bananas Foster flambé. Didn't see the flambé flambéed but absolutely lovely.

Poor dear Beth is really not feeling well but she manfully um Bethfully endures until we insist she skip the 10:15 show if she doesn't insist otherwise. And she doesn't.

PEPPER SIR? WHY?

Here we are in the Princess theatre awaiting the show sufficiently in advance to get good seats unlike the other seatless night. As my Zumba placeholder friend said the late show is sparse unlike the early show/s. Wonder how much the Princess powers/designers considered a demographic that skews OLD. Waiting for Nancy who wanted to change into casual clothes. And here she is!

Typical production show, the four good singers--great costumes and production values, excellent dancers jumping and twirling, no pauses between familiar musical numbers. This time the theme is Soul (although it includes rock and roll). We ask Nancy if she enjoys the show. No telling if she does. (She says one of the women singers is strident. Oh.)

SAT SEPTEMBER 13, AT SEA.

"I feel virtuous now but I'm still gonna have three courses." This said by one woman to another after stretch plus abs class on their way to the breakfast buffet.  My sentiments entirely. Good class with the puckish Scottish trainer who wears glasses and is as gentle as someone who exacts physical struggle can be.

All I'm having for breakfast is oatmeal with honey, prunes and some grain-like things. Talk virtue.

In time to get a second row place for Zumba, Bob taking the rear. Today's instructor is the English lass Sarah who gave us a tour of the Golden I think (they blend in the mind) on our western sampler cruise. Still very crowded. People argue about placement. One Asian woman tells me to move up. I think Bob is discouraged.

Afterward I immediately run to the Brazilian line dance class in the plaza. Great fun with Nat calling the moves.

Moving very slowly now. Shower, Bob returns from a full hour of treadmill and soon it's time for Lunch in Concerto. R and B: Chicken Tortilla Soup flavored with tomato and cilantro. We like--the soups have been consistently fine so far. R Nasi Goreng (Indonesian spiced rice w chicken, fried egg and cucumber accompanied by beef satays and peanut dip) which the Asian waiter says is his favorite. Surprise!  Nice indeed. B Greek salad (feta cheese and olives etc.)

NASI GORENG. MY FAVORITE THAI DISH.

Bob and I discuss the prospective trips I've outlined through 2016 in advance of seeing the cruise person (who has closed shop for the day as it turns out).

Bob's walnut ice cream is excellent. I get the regular ice cream sundae instead of the menu sundae but who's complaining (Bob is able to co-opt the chocolate sauce) though the server insists in bringing me the fruit sundae which, too delicious, I have some bites of.

Investment Seminar. Fridays are usually a down day because investors are getting rid of positions. Monday usually up.

Insured bond guarantees payment. If default however the bond may pay less.

Hillbilly buys donkey. Donkey dies.  He raffles off the dead donkey. Makes a mint. What about guy who won? I gave him back his $2.

A recession is when your neighbor loses his job. A Depression is when you lose your job.

Akorn cause of the recession.

Subprime= lower than good. Lots of risk when some can't pay back loans.

Traced back to 9/11. After that an attempt to get people back into market.

Own homes. Government said make it easier for people to borrow money--lower rates.

Ginny Fanny Freddie. Loans packed together and sold to people and guaranteed by the government. These were mortgage-backed securities. But more people were getting loans and buying houses.

Sold bad mortgages because knew they could sell them to the public.

Town in Iceland. Merrill Lynch talked it into investing into subprimes. Lost it all. Australian and Canadian banks didn't accept subprimes. Fared well.

Brokerage cos. Decided to self-insure. Ex. Lehman Bros. Sold subprimes. Their traders starting to dump their holdings in mortgage-backed securities because saw what was going on. But the institutional and sales folks were at the same time hyping these loans.

(Result: After 2008 almost impossible to buy a house.)

Insurers--ran out of money.

Joke. Pastor tells congregation that someone accused him of belonging to the ku klux klan. Repent this falsehood, he says. Finally gorgeous blonde rises to say she just told friends that he was a wizard under the sheets.

2:45 with Beth and Nancy. Super Tuscany wine tasting. Seated at a table for ten. 29 best wines of Tuscany of 42 on this ship.

Toast: there are big ships and small ships but the best ships are friendships. Nice pâté accompanying the Lucente Della Vita which we prefer less than the Castillo di nippozano accompanied by prosciutto. A delicious cheese ball thing dippable in a red sauce accompanies the Le serre Nuove Bolgheri DOC which is a little harsh. I tell my compadres at the table that it grows on you. Perhaps I lie. Gaudi Al Tasso is very very nice accompanied by a skewer of something, chicken?

Ornellaia is their $230 wine. Grapes of merlot and cabernet sauvignon. Color deep. Paired with a lambchop -- sweet! -- "we drink coffee because we need it; we drink wine because we deserve it."  All these sophisticated maître d's with foreign accents and quips. We like the event so much that all four of us sign up for the next tasting. Oh the shame.

One virtue of being old is that you can polish your "waginess" by which I mean the quips come readily. This is evident in elevator rides here. For example, one woman takes on the task of pushing the buttons. One guy says she should take tips. Another says he can't pay her because all they have on the ship is a card. Another says something very funny which I can't remember because I've just had all that lovely wine. And food. Which means I need to go to the second Zumba class in less than an hour.

Lost of course so I've got center front row position.  And there's Beth who was apparently similarly motivated.

This is the Brazilian line dance instructor and he is as expected terrific. Much suggestive shaking of the pelvis is required. At one point we do a rhythmic shake in Mano a Mano (or do I mean man to man) unison. Ah and ahem.

Exhausted. I'm catatonic in our cabin until I have the energy to take another warm post-Zumba shower; we've got a tub just waiting to be indulged sometime after one of these exercises in sweat.

Bob has cabin fever so we foray out after 7 in search of. .  . What?

For one, we seek a grand sea view lounge and bar found on other ships and, after climbing in and out of the topmost regions of this behemoth discover there is no such amenity. What the hell! Another major demerit.

Beth said she thought she'd watch a movie under the stars this evening but she's definitely not among the hearty (foolish?) few cold under blankets watching a dystopian teenage fantasy. Wise.

Sitting at a sea view (Bob) table in Crooners Bar I ask Bob if he's relaxed. This being a cruise and all.  (And it's still light out at 8:45 -- where are we in the sunlight continuum as we approach Iceland?). He says no. Thinking about the appraisal. I say I'm wedded to the philosophy of we do what we can do and that's it. (That's not fatalistic, dear detractors, that's by my lights pragmatic.)

LEARNING TO LOVE CALZONES.

Here we are in Alfredo's Italian restaurant sitting Oceanside. We're the only ones here but there is a crowd around the balcony looking down at the performer on the Piazza, the electronic violinist.

What a kick he is. Early on this young guy decided ya gotta have a gimmick. Sleeveless to show his arm muscles, bejeweled violin plugged in, he prances around the Piazza performance area doing knee bends and kicks in time to his simple gorgeously amplified fiddling. The crowd adores him, especially the women. I know this from a semi-libidinous conversation overheard from a nearby table, fantasies laid bare.

I see too what Princess was thinking in their entertainment design. The Princess Theatre may be smaller but it offers as many as three shows in an evening. Additionally he and other mainstage entertainers can give a full show to the hundreds of passengers that the Piazza and the overlooking balconies can accommodate. Then there's the performances in the Live Studio theatre and the large Vista Lounge in addition to the musical groups and pianists in the bars.

Enough. Let's get to sleep. Gau, our steward, who thank god has made our beds and placed our chocolates on our pillows (they don't do the fancy towel animals though--Nancy might have liked that) says he only gets to go to Reykjavik (which apparently we're not doing) because they get only three hours off ship; the pretty Polish waitress at Alfredo's tonight also says (and this is clearly a staff perspective) that the one flaw in this ship is that it's so large it docks an hour away from city stops and with their three hour off board allotment it hardly pays to get off the ship.

Kids work 6 weeks during summer for the municipality. Low wages. Plant trees. Keeps them off the streets.

Erosion biggest problem in Iceland.

Medical free for most part. 

Reykjavik means "smokey bay".

We pass the Reagan/Gorbachev treaty house.

SUNDAY SEPTEMBER 14. REYKJAVIK, ICELAND.

This is the 2nd time our breakfast room service messes up.

Much lining up for the tour. Huge tour. 8 o’clock start time. We don't really start until 8:45.The girls say they dined in a dining room last night. Think the food is too salty.


Ellen is our tour lady. Magnus our driver. 50 minutes to first stop. 2 ports in Reykjavik. Pronounced Rik--. Pool valley. Women washed clothes here. Now main shopping street 100 years later.

1940 only 120,000 inhabitants in Iceland. After Brits and Americans, movement to Reykjavik. Today 200,000 live in Reykjavik, 300,000 in all of Iceland.

     I'm surprised it's Very green.

Water is main theme today. Icy cold, boiling hot, harnessing of water.

        Economically Iceland is getting out of the 2007 crash.

         90% of Iceland is heated with renewable thermal heat. No atomic power in Iceland. 80% of energy comes from renewable. Iceland too young to have oil and mineral resources.

Hills are blue May to July with sturdy plants.

There are 100 outdoor pools in Iceland. People prefer outdoor heated pools.

     We are driving along western coast (then inland).

  No palaces or fortresses or architecture of substantial value.

Music and art only dates back 110 years. But have literature. Sagas. Tales from the 1st century. A lot of Celtic blood in Icelanders. Well written epic tales.

     Greatest tale of old man, rebellious. Helder Laxness won the Nobel Prize in 1950. Socio realistic writer. Last 10 years crime scene writing. They give one another books as Xmas presents.

Bob says Iceland is depressing. We agree the people must be depressed.

     Ellen walks around with a map and points to where the volcano has been erupting.

      Beth asks the question that Ellen announces as "appropriate" about the weather, if it's always like this.

"No such thing as bad weather in Iceland, just bad outfits." “If you don't like the weather wait 10 minutes."

     No army in Iceland. Since 2006 Iceland not strategically important so Americans left.

Historically, the country was ruled by 36-48 chieftains. 2 weeks in June the country met--camping sites. 10,000 of 50,000. Now the parliament meets in Reykjavik.

       Iceland is only 16 million years old. 3 million years ago was the glacial period which vanished only 10k years ago in Iceland.

MY BEAUTIFUL NIECES IN A STRANGE AND BEAUTIFUL  LAND.

BETWEEN THE EAST AND WEST TECHTONIC PLATES

BAD PLACE TO BE IF YOU'RE AN ADULTEROUS LADY

We stop at a lava field. 2 tectonic plates bump.

American plates on one side Eurasian on the other; we're in the center.

    Clan Speaker would speak out here proclaiming the law.

930 to mid-13th century was the commonwealth period. “Thing”- was council and main punishment site.

Men decapitated. Adulterous women thrown into the river, the “Drowning pool”.

1st degree murder today gets you 16 yrs.

     Thing- where we were is a sacred place in Iceland for the citizens. It's one of 2 UNESCO World Heritage sites. 
The lake is for fishing; they use nets.

     Ellen saw northern lights a few days ago. Needs to be cold, crisp and clear. Tonight check the sky.

Winter birds ravens, grouse.

When first settlers came only article fox.

No snakes, no reptiles.

Minks imported. These and foxes are a threat to wildlife. People are paid to shoot them.

Highest life expectancy for men in world. So much changed in 100 years.

People drive around Iceland and rent summer cottages. Once a day busses. No trains in Iceland.

Working age high here, 65-74 yrs. 75% still working. Work strong characteristic of Icelanders. Minimum wage 220 kroner per month-close to $2,000. Double that for average.  Average working hours--43.5 hours a week, 38 for women.

Guide: Her English is not great. (She says women have "2 children a year".) But she's informative.

Most here are Evangelical Lutheran. That’s the state church, adds Bob.

Yesterday people rounded up the sheep from the mountains. Singing and drinking, they take their sheep home to sheep sheds. After May take them up to the mountains.

Horses are also rounded up in late October.

On the way we see beautiful and unusual topography.

We're at Geysir where the geysers are. But first lunch. Served family style, a mushroom soup everybody loves. Salmon family style. Everyone agrees it’s better than the ship’s. Fresh. Beth, "very tasty."

Snow globe featuring a Viking ship -- check. Now to the waterfall. We are a hearty group and assay the hundred stairs and then Beth and I take the rocks up to the precipice of the waterfall. Dramatic, beautiful.  Though arthritic joints are inflamed I feel a sense of achievement. Husband and nieces are around to grab me if I should slip and fall on the final descent.

Anecdote. Woman saved waterfall by protesting against building power plant. Called 1st environmentalist.

From icy cold to the boiling hot--the Geyser. This time an easy walk.

Meany is the geyser, pronounced gay-. The old dead one just bubbles, says Bob. We smell the sulphur. We pass a new little one. Guide feels the ground for heat.

We all wait and are delighted by the geyser's eruption. Many little pools of steaming sulphur, water bluish in color seems to emanate from a cave within,

No prisons on Iceland.

Our guide sings us a lullaby (her gimmick is singing which she did when we started, “good morning good morning"--paging Debbie Reynolds) from a play about a couple who were exiled and had to leave their children behind. However it’s  major metaphor is about fissures in a glacier depicting the harsh life in the Iceland of yore.

Beth notes that you are aware how small this country is from the guide's anecdotes; her examples are about individuals, e.g. the couple who endured the winter in a cave with their cow but when they all emerged, they discovered their cow was blind from the darkness. O…kay.

Icelanders became Christian in 1000.  Bishoprics. Reykjavik became the capital 1880. United bishoprics. After the Reformation in 1550, Iceland became poorer--riches taken. But Iceland never illiterate. Books. Iceland became a colony of Denmark in 1400. But since 1944 it’s been independent. However the written language stayed the same here unlike other Scandinavian languages. English is studied from the 5th grade. Danish from the 7th grade. Icelandic is a complicated language (8 different endings).

      Different last names. Daughter, son married.  Need to know first name. People don't use last names.

Icelanders use English words for the new technology, like computers.

Some sights owned by individuals who "charge to see nature". (So would I).

We drive along Clearwater River – it goes to the Ocean.

As late as 1995, avalanches fell on villages. 36 people were killed, a "big loss for a small country like Iceland."

Iceland is self-sufficient for fish and meat. Most grain and fruit is imported, however.

No importation of animals live or fresh here. These have to be frozen because of the devastating impact of viruses. Therefore Icelanders need to be self-sufficient.

Tales of mystery because of climate, the fog, etc. Elves. Giants turning into rocks.

Pass prison for 170 prisoners. Criminality here. Verdicts short because of shame--neighbors would know. Recently had to cope with Eastern European mafia. Overcrowding. Solved. Wait up to 3 years to do your prison time.

Pass a greenhouse town. Produce 80% of common vegetables, tomatoes, mushrooms, cucumbers. Exotics are imported.

Commute from here to Reykjavik. Busses. Ride sharing ever since the financial crash.

As we approach the power plan on the tour, the fog is as thick as proverbial cream. Bad luck. Our bus moves gingerly in the fog. One reason I like days at sea!

Fishing used to be the main industry, cod especially. 10 years ago, aluminum. Now tourism is in 1st place.

Horses were the only means of transport until WW 2. Produce horse meat, especially tender is foal meat.

LECTURER AT THE THERMAL ENERGY PLANT.

At the plant we learn that one side produces hot water; other side electricity production. Use more energy per capita than any nation. Site guide here speaks great English. But he ends his sentences with a question mark which seems to be a common linguistic trait.

We see a film about harnessing the natural energy. 1/4 of Iceland volcanic. Southwest Iceland is particularly volcanic.

Icelanders keep heat on with open windows.

Heat in houses 80 degrees. There's a Snow thawing system under streets and sidewalks. Renewable energy here means they pump down excess water, thus speeding circulation.

Blue Lagoon, a popular spa-bathing pool, came by about by accident. Overflow from thermal plans created bathing pool which the employees discovered and used.

This fog we're experiencing is unusual.

BRR.

This year there’s an acclaimed Icelandic film about two old people who escape their old age home. Steal car. Road movie.  Fog protects them from police. She dies. He buries her where she wanted. He's alone.

Eric the Red from Norway came to Iceland and with his wife had a son Leif. Broke law. Went west. He was the 1st PR man. Got people to go there by calling it Greenland.

1st person to find Iceland in the 9th c. didn't like the country. Hence gave it its name--Iceland.

Nobody buys bottled water in Iceland. Tap water is Icelandic champagne. The lava keeps it pure.

Ellen says the golden circle is closed as we approach Reykjavik. We will visit The Pearl, a tall building, "even though visibility is not its best". (Understatement.)

The Pearl is a challenge with its faulty elevator (better watch your step as you get off), its wind locked doors onto the view terrace, and its stairs, but it does reinforce the notions about Iceland's energy conservation --even though they are smug about their achievements in this regard, they open windows with the heat blaring.

Strict rules about dogs. Others in house must agree. Icelandic dogs bark a lot. Inspected once a year. Must be on leash, etc.

A few years ago it snowed before the sheep roundup. 5,000 sheep died. A "catastrophe".

Icelanders visit cold places in the USA like Seattle and Minneapolis

Not much time after arriving back at the ship but we down a small martini home-made in our cabin and then meet the girls for din din in the Symphony dining restaurant. Again our conversation is lively and fun though we get personal with the second bottle of Chardonnay.

MAGIC SPELLS

DEFYING GRAVITY

Bob and Nancy vegetable korma. "It's good"

R & Beth scallops--a little bland.

Beth and Reuel corn chowder

Beth's cold is worse, exacerbated by the winds, fog and the wetness of the Iceland trek.

MONDAY, SEPTEMBER 15. AT SEA.

Early for stretch + abs with Scottish Kenny, I take to the elliptical machine, same kind as we have at our home super-Y. Interesting that I can comfortably work the machine in my beach slippers without consequence.

It's the Horizon (short for buffet) for breaky. A servant crafts Bob a bowl piled excessively with peanut butter, his favorite food, so he's delighted. One, that there's a surfeit of the stuff and two that he merely needs to snap a finger and all is sunshine and roses plucked for him.

I find a sunny side egg and why not a bit of the scrambled and while I'm at it the lox all shiny and new. Add some capers and ah here's a half bagel to tie it all together.

Food still undigested we head downstairs half an hour early to hold our places in Zumba this time at the Vista lounge, a better venue for it. At least there's a stage to see the instructor (Melissa, this time smiling because she isn't feeling overwhelming concern about the dangerous overcrowding, from South Africa).

I rush down to the piazza, sweaty but ready for line Brazil. No one lined up yet so, 1st mistake, I ask 2 Asian ladies if it's Brazilian today. They say yes. Later I realize that Asians will almost always say yes for fear of offending. Then I ask a woman also sitting on the periphery of the performance circle if I may see her Princess Patter. She's clearly reluctant to yield it up as if I’ve asked to borrow her panties. I say I won't take it. Glaring look. And after I look up the event I find it says simply line dancing. I patiently wait and as the hour approaches, those sitting in wait begin to line up and one woman steps right in front of me a foot at most to spare. I'm tempted to say Look bitch I've been waiting here. What are you doing? Refrain. Only to find its ubiquitous Sarah doing country line dance. Outta there, late consequently for my alternate selection, the British computer lady lecturer talking about Twitter. It's clear as mud. Only thing I can make out is that Twitter is suitable for businesses and organizations and that she seems to focus on Mark Twain, Winston Churchill and Oscar Wilde, quoting them in her tweets so that they are distributed widely by organizations like the Mark Twain society and people who have certain narrow interests relating to the quotes and the way she crafts the hash tag titles. Doesn't seem a relevant tool for me.

First of my showers and then Lunch. Surprise. Beth and Nancy join us it turns out even though we haven't made arrangements to meet. From Thailand and the Philippines are our servers. Narin our waiter seems confused, auctioning off our chard and cab wines to other tables.

R. Combo of chicken gumbo (he brings me the marmite soup by mistake), apple and walnut salad and a Reuben. Bob marmite soup and a cheeseburger. Nancy the apple salad and a goat cheese salad.

A glass of wine each at lunch seems enough to knock us out for a post prandial nap, actually needed (I for one did not accumulate my minimum sleep hours).

Somewhat refreshed, we head to the Future Cruises office to find that there are a few couples ahead of us sitting in the hallway—again there’s much less space devoted to these activities than on other Princess ships. I chat with the old guy (my age) that I sit next to who jokingly threatens to hit me with his cane if we go ahead of him. He's been on many Celebrity and Princess ships and prefers a Princess, finding the service and the food deteriorating (a familiar plaint) on Celebrity and that they don't respond to his complaints as well as Princess does. He has an interior cabin and finds it more spacious than on other Princess ships but he like everyone else has complaints about the Royal, especially about the lack of elevators mid ship. I find chatting with frequent cruisers yields insights. I'm now more content with our choice of Princess these days for example.

Angela the Future Cruises lady is a model of efficiency yet personable as these women always are. Her predecessor that we used (and also liked) on the Ruby quit after the debacle of the "free" west coast cruise promotion (which we took advantage of). [Most were first time passengers who didn't use the credit for future cruises.] A passenger complained about her sitting on the floor after midnight (!) trying to sort out the pile of orders instead of tending to him. So she quit.

Angela laughs at my jokes and says we're "young pups" compared to other passengers (I say that's the first and last time we'll hear that phrase). In addition to the March 2015 cruise from South America to LA that we'd already booked, we book a late November 4-day round trip cruise from LA to Santa Barbara. And a 9 day cruise in August around Japan. When I learn that the 5 day accompanying land tour is as much as the cost of our cabin, another $4,000 each (apparently the mode for these things--this one is fully booked anyway, probably a group booking) I say we'll make our own land arrangements. When I ask her which mini suite she recommends she asks what our route is and chooses a cabin on the side facing land. TIP. Do that. When I say that at least the Royal has larger staterooms and that our mini suite is larger than those in other Princess ships, she says it's an illusion. [later research will reveal that it’s  larger], It's clear even she doesn't like the two newest ships. As we leave, a waiting man glares at me as he has been doing throughout our time with Angela (she said when I expressed concern about the others waiting, avoid looking at them; they've got 15 more days to see her).

5:15 and it's Zumba, this time in the tv studio and with Nat, who I've dubbed the Brazilian bombshell. I have plenty of time to chat, rather be chatted at with one of those non- stop chatters, the tiny thin Jewish lady from Scottsboro, Arizona. They also bought (thinking about San Diego--too far) a house for the summer in another part of Arizona where it's cooler. Tip. When on a long cruise from LA, stay at a hotel at the port (she says there are two who do this) and get breakfast, a valet who drives you to the port, and free parking for the duration of the cruise. We'd save money on hiring a car to/from LA. It seems that all these rich people who take these cruises are concerned about saving a buck here and there and yes they all complain about the Royal.

Great workout but increasingly arthritic and joint pained me; can't (and won't) jump and do the Zumba moves like I used to.

I greet Bob in the cabin. He seems incredulous that I'm taking a second shower. Oh puleeze Louise. I'm sweaty and my muscles ache. A martini for each of us after I emerge helps.

In Alfredo's again. It's about hunger and timing. After a quick survey of the famed Horizon buffet, we have pizzas and a glass of merlot, Bob the traditional and me one with shrimp. They are good but not spectacular (a familiar plaint about the food thus far) a little crisper crust could have helped. I interrupt my chow down to run to the rail over the Piazza railing to watch (and videotape this time) that spectacular gymnastic duo, he lifting and twirling her like a rag doll.

We're in the Princess Theatre awaiting the show. Bob: “I think the spaces are carefully conceived. It doesn't feel like there are thousands of people. I think the designer's done a good job.” Still we've got to balance our wine glasses and hope they don't spill when we put them on the floor since there's nothing to accommodate drinks in the theatre seats--another demerit?

The headliner Nik we remember from a previous cruise. He's a bit overweight but he's a dynamic performer with a beautiful voice and of course he was in Les Miz (they all were) and sings some of those songs. He recognizes Elliot in the audience, a guy with an Elvis hairdo and apparently a fan. His first song is I am Don Quixote and he nails it--assuring respect and attention from the audience throughout his set (one of three shows-- it's almost like vaudeville of old).

Next activity: To Princess Live the tv studio and sometime (and future) site of Zumba. Interviews with the production manager and the technical director plus with some of the dancers (including a guy who fell in the well a few nights ago and the soloist singers--an international group. We recognize Michael a dancer from our last transatlantic voyage--gay, comes off as macho. As these behind the scenes looks at the theatre on board usually go, it's fascinating.

Time to catch the last few songs of the male (probably gay) Cabaret singer. Personality rules. Sings Fernando and has the women in the audience substitute other Spanish names, Rolando and so forth. Audience participation always wins out. Finally he introduces his mother in the audience, "She paid for my piano lessons every day." We'll need to check him out again to assay his talent.

Heading home we pass by the theatre. It's the last show for Nik the singer. He's doing an encore that we'd not heard before. Interesting that there are any variations.

TUESDAY SEPT 16. AT SEA.

There's a damned spousal Placeholder in my spot in Zumba. These are husbands who stand in a wife's preferred front row spot until the wife arrives. Sometimes they remain like the dutiful sentinels they are for a full half hour.

And we, Bob and I, are 25 minutes early; guess that's not enough. It was the stopping back from breakfast (Horizon) to get a towel and dry shirts for the transition to the lecture scheduled right after Zumba that foiled the too-early-to-fail strategy.

STAND STILL FOR GOD'S SAKE

Missed stretch this morning because we forget to turn the clock an hour forward. Awakened only by the knock of the room service breakfast guy. The sloth of it all astonishes.

I'm thinking my Zumba days are numbered. Too much joint pain limits mobility.

Guy Fawkes lecture. Mainland is Great Britain. Guy Fawkes goes back to England and Scotland uniting. Henry’s wives: divorced beheaded died divorced beheaded died. Katherine of Aragon (word arrogant derives from) next Ann Boleyn. Henry 8th had 3 children--Edward died. Mary-bloody (killed Protestants)--then Elizabeth 1. She killed Mary Queen of Scots but bequeathed the throne to her son, James 1. This united England and Scotland. Catholics-plot to blow up houses of Parliament. (Henry 8 created Church of England because wanted to go around pope.)

Fawkes (not main man; that was Robert Catesby) watched over gunpowder on November 4. Set for Nov 5. Caught red-handed. Tortured.

Conspiracy theory that Protestants set it up to scapegoat Fawkes.

So burn effigy in bonfire on Nov. 5.

Old clothes are filled with straw. Children weeks ahead beg for pennies for best fireworks. Guard their wood for weeks to prevent rival gangs of children from pilfering the wood. Also celebrated in New Zealand and Canada.

NOV 5 is a strain on the fire dept.

Fawkes gave up his 7 fellow plotters. Hanged, drawn and quartered. Heads on spikes. "The gruesome bit".

Lecture only 20 minutes. Although I like the gruesome bits part, Bob does not feel edified.

He does however feel attracted to the sale in the Symphony dining room and once there I feel nostalgic for Kleins on the Square where women, my mother a leader among them, pulled at markdowns in bins. But identical Copenhagen t-shirts and boxes filled with chocolate choose to come home with us.

Some elliptical and, afterwards, boy does a hot shower help those troubled joints. Complaints. Complaining.  Like an old person.

Speaking of which, on the elevator the usual Zumba Spousal Placeholder whines, as seems to be his mode. The other couple in the elevator are holding plates of food. I say thank you very kind of you when we enter to laughter but wonder why they are taking it to their room. "Feed the dog?" I offer.

As we sit at lunch, the Captain's Italian accented recitations of centigrade lulls a person almost to somnolence.

We both have vegetable soup. Nicely and subtly spiced. B pot pie "very flavorful" and R, spaghetti and meatballs. Excellent. (I actually ask for and receive extra meatballs. What a nervy guy. We're both very happy.)

Although we are scheduled for a wine tasting later in the afternoon we order a bottle of Pacific Bay cab. “It’s more economical". Luigi, wine steward, comes by. We discuss the winemakers dinner for $40 per person which if we can get a table for four sounds enticing; we wonder if the girls will want to spring for their share. Luigi comes back to say he will let us know if and when the winemaker’s dinner will occur for us.

We wonder if they'll serve food at the wine tasting later. Probably says Bob. They don't want us falling down drunk, that is, less experienced drinkers than we. "We get drunk standing up" I offer.

Angela is lecturing on future cruises; they all sound wonderful. And most through April 2016 are pretty well booked. The next catalogue comes out in November. I'm interested in an LA round trip to Australia via Hawaii and Tahiti. We'll see. We've got the 4 day cruise West Coast in late November, the 32-day South America in March, the 9-day Japan in August 2015. Hmm.

Nap.

Wine Club Wine Tasting.

Champagne "Nicholas Feuillatte" Brut Reserve - $60 the strangely effeminate maître d’ pronounces bubbles bowels. Must tingle the tip of the tongue but tongue sounds like something profane. Taste like big royalty. Huh? Quite nice with the caviar. Then Chassagne Montrachet. Chardonnay Silverado. (Very full bodied--alcoholic) nice. Amarone. Big bitter grapes. (15-17% alcohol 5 year fermentation) Della Valpicella Bolla. Don Maxiano. Overture. (Same winery as Opus 1).

Actually wine tastings are, dare I say the word, a bit boring for us. After all we've heard the patter a thousand times. Get on with it is my motto. Taste and get out of there. Also there was some confusion about which wines are being tasted and which hors d’oeuvres accompany what though they were good.

It does give us some time to hang out with the girls and we talk of plans after the tasting and watch those incredible acrobats again in the Piazza. It looks like our paths may not cross again until tomorrow. We do see them later shivering and wrapped up like mummies watching Belle, a movie, "under the stars".

We take advantage of the special lounge for us Platinums and Elites. Positives: We get our cosmos free because our server is late in serving them and there's the appetizer buffet including all the shrimp you can eat (and I have them all) and I chat with a couple from New York who have discovered how to get wine--at Vines bar from the manager. The things you learn from other frequent travelers. They also get an onboard cash stipend because they invested in parent company Carnival stock which gives a 3% dividend anyway, something to consider. And there's the bottles of wine offered at $15 here. We think we can invite the girls without difficulty. Just pay for their $5 drinks with our platinum card.

Bob is certain that we've seen all the performers and that holds true of Ventriloquist Kieran Powell, a skinny young man with a collection of dummies that look awfully familiar. He's a technically a very good ventriloquist; however his patter needs comedic sharpening. He has this dummies sing which I suppose is difficult to do and then pursues the inevitable audience involvement with 3 women as potential dates for his dummy and then a man who becomes his dummy and has to dance, the audience squealing with delight at his embarrassment.

STILL AT IT

Also familiar to Bob is our next entertainer, again in the Vista lounge (having given up its identity as a lounge of Special Privilege). Tracy the singer who impersonated, that is paid "tribute" to, Celine Dionne last night. She's terrific, what a voice. And tells a story with her singing. She pairs at one point with Bill White (?), one of the ship’s singers, on “Beauty and the Beast” and it's very effecting. Finally she is Barbra Streisand in The Way We Were. We agree she out-Barbras (at least today's) Barbra in her rendition.

Kory in the Crooners Lounge. Thin voice. Good musical selections. Audience so large we couldn't see him and not in the mood anyway.

On TV we listen to the ship lecture on Glasgow, Scotland. George Sq. Statues. Robert Pell. Est. Scotland Yard. Buchanan St. Kellinham Museum. Major holding: Dali's St. John of the Cross. Provand's Lordship oldest bldg in Glasgow. 1470.

Loch Lomond. Etc. Bob says of the port lecturer, "The old ladies love her". Very simple. Everything delivered from the point of view of someone who doesn't know very much.  Sure we'll get a lot more info tomorrow.

WEDNESDAY SEPT 17. GREENOCK.

Up just in time for 8:30 stretch class with the big guy. Only about 9 or 10 in class on this port day. No abs on port day.

We knock at the girls' door and soon we're released on Greenock, Scotland for a walk on our own. Struck by the friendliness and helpfulness of the Welcoming Scots at the terminal. We try to follow the street map along the esplanade and hike into town center where there are some impressive looking buildings.

A WEE WELCOME

BAGPIPERS ALL

PRO-SEPARATION MOVEMENT

GREENOCH'S CITY HALL

MONUMENT TO FISHERMEN

A GENTLEMEN'S GENTLEMAN

NO FOUL

REUEL WITH NEW SCOTTISH FRIEND

Lunch in Horizon (the dining rooms are closed). Thai hot and sour soup, nice and spicy. Fish Cioppino , Thai noodles and a chicken skewer. At our window seats, we watch with some fascination the containers being lifted and placed like, as Bob says, "something from a sci fi movie". We "need" a cookie; we find a cookie.

WE NEED A LIFT

MOVIE NOT UNDER THE STARS

Rest and news.

 Always nice to have Gau our steward wishing us well as we get ready to meet for our afternoon tour of Glasgow. Pleasant out, sun shining.

This port of Greenoch on the west coast of Scotland. Started out as a fishing village. 3rd largest shipbuilder in past. 1970's closed. Cruise-liners are now built overseas, in China especially.

James Watt most famous citizen. Watt power named after him.

55 tour ships came to Greenock this year so far.

Channel dug in river to accommodate traffic to Glasgow. Must stick between marker buoys.

Paisley made shawls here mid 19thc.

Glasgow (650,000 pop) is the largest Scot city (cf Edinburgh, Population 450,000, is the political center). During 18thc tobacco barons made money importing tobacco. 19th c coal mining. Became 2nd City of British Empire. Victorian buildings were put up in the late 19thc. Suffered depression 1920-30's.

1980's started cleaning up bldgs. Now whiskey cos., Barclay’s, food preparation. Heavy mining--gone.

Royal conservatoire based here. Lots of cultural events. Red sandstone bldgs. Absorb pollution but many have been cleaned up,

A merchant's city.

Wellington statue with parking cone hat.

I can see having drinks in this city. My touchstone for revisits.

It is exciting to see rallies for Scottish independence in the square on the eve of the vote. Sense our guide is anti-independence.

Can vote from the age of 16 in Scotland.

Big university of Later Life program in the University of Glasgow.

Glasgow = green place. Originally flower gardens for medicinal purposes.

Cathedral. Religious settlement here. 1st built in 13thc. 2nd burned. Completed in 15th c. 1st Catholic then Anglican then Presbyterian (no church hierarchy. 50% women). Very black uncleaned fragile sandstone. All its glass replaced in 20thc.

19TH CENTURY NECROPOLIS IN BACKGROUND

On tour,of course my head set is the one that doesn't work.

“Let Glasgow Flourish”-- emblem fish, bird, etc. Teaching hospital stretches around the cathedral.

Museum of Religious life. Shows all religions coexisting.

An intriguing truck passes by: “LOO KING Porto Potties.”

Tenements built late in the 19thc. 3 stories above shop.  Originally no indoor plumbing.

Statues of “the wealthy and the good”.

Beautiful gothic cathedral. Remarkable arches.

Just a glimpse of the 19^th century necropolis on the hill above the cathedral. A problem with these tours is you get to spend too little or too much time in a place.

18^th c steeple marks entrance to old town.

Glasgow green. Pride of city Victorian monument restored and 2.5M pounds.

On weekends in September all buildings are open and free to the public, museums, temples, etc.

We drive along the River Clyde. (Longest river in West Scotland. Our ship is sitting on it.)

Roman Catholicism important because Irish immigrated here.

Armadillo bldg. (in that shape) part of Scottish expo and conference center; can accommodate 10,000.

I notice Scots seem to like keeping up their old cranes as artifacts. And hire major architects to design their buildings.

We pass by the University of Glasgow founded in 1451. Rebuilt in the 1880's. Drive by medical, engineering and law schools.

BUSTLING UNIVERSITY DISTRICT

St. Andrews in Scotland is the oldest in Great Britain. Then it’s Oxford, followed by Cambridge then Glasgow.

We're not in Greenock anymore; lots of restaurants and real estate agents in the university area.

Guide  notes how quickly buildings get blackened.

Lots of students around registering.

Kelvin Grove Park. Lord Kelvin was a physicist.

In fabulous Kelvingrove museum we like the arts and craft movement exhibition featuring Henry and Hormell and all the Glasgow "boys", such as, Macintosh, Kennedy and Lavery.

"WE" ARE AMUSED

I LOVE THIS PAINTING

Then best of all there's a sale room off the museum shop with clothing from the commonwealth games at 1/2 price. I get a polo shirt which says "Team Glasgow 2014" down from 25 pounds to 12.50 pounds. Who's to know but I'd better google the games.

The guide: "You can't do credit to a museum in such a short time." Yes.

Many old buildings along the docks were destroyed for modern structures. People moved to the “skims” and live in sterile high rises.

FLOWERS FLOURISH

THEY PRESERVE THEIR CRANES. IT'S ART. IT'S HISTORY.

In summer, daylight til 11:30 at night. In dead of winter 9:30am to 3:30pm light. Unfortunately it's hazy out so we can't really see the gorgeous greens of the hills of the towns on the other side of the River Clyde.

"Hasty back", she says. (It's a Scottish phrase of course)

The sun's now out and martinis in hand we watch the a-kilted youth bagpipe band.

YOUNG BAGPIPERS IN FORMATION AS WE DEPART SCOTLAND

MAJOR CARGO TERMINAL

Lovely as they are, the bagpipe sound is not among the most gorgeous of the world, reedy, might I say screechy. Yet it's a lovely moment. Beyond the shipping containers, for such is the main function of the port, there is the charming city of Greenoch settling into the green hills above. I note the lifeboats below, 8 on each side. That means 312.5 souls per boat if you don't assume the crew goes down with the ship, which you'd think is their duty. Oh no. Bob and I agree.  "It's gay men and old women first," I say.

The towering fat suited Scotsman is twerking for embarking passengers to big applause. There's only so much he can do in his inflatable (there's an air pump in there keeping him alive and apparently to twee twerking) but his efforts and those of the twinkly eyed folks, brogues at ready, have made this stop especially charming.

There are the natives waving the Scottish flag as the ship makes its final preparations. We've been the largest ship these ports thus far has seen so they're happy we're here. It's the captain speaking. We're ready to set sail.

Marveling in the shimmering carpet of light that is the sun's reflection from distant hills to the ship.

Dinner. R. Bay scallop cocktail with pancetta and sage vinaigrette served over frisée salad with crisp Italian bacon and sage dressing. Very nice. "Good looking scallops" says Bob. Bob chicken satay. Good. Soup for both of us. Onion volute. Delicious. R. Pan fried Steak Diane. Flamed w cognac. Served with mushrooms and mustard cream sauce, William potato (shaped like a pear), wilted spinach, ok. The steak a tad unyielding but suits just fine, especially with a horseradish sauce.

The service is wonderful and we feel like pashas.

Bob. Farfalle con Broccoli e formagio fontina. "Good for ya, not fully flavored."

We will have desserts and they are divine. Bob white chocolate Moca tart with chocolate ice cream. R. Sour cream apple pie with streusel crumble a la mode. Bob not thrilled with either. Determined to stick with ice cream in future. R on other hand transported and ready to take on the consequent FAT.

We watch the dancers in the Piazza and check our photos on the fancy schmancy photo machine before heading to the theatre for the production show, What the World Needs Now (Burt Bacharach stuff).   

A listless show. Does Princess pay so much in royalties for this one that they stinted on sets and costumes? There was only one set and one costume. The singers, as Bob says, have absolutely no feel for Bacharach. Of course we've seen the great man himself at the San Diego Pops with his specially attuned back-up singers so that might have been our problem, but I noticed that the black guy who has great talent as evidenced by his Beauty and the Beast cameo of the previous night was hit and miss; his heart wasn't in it and at one point he showed disdain for his audience. Did he learn that his contract wasn't picked up? Has he had it with an all-white audience?

Sleep time.

THURSDAY SEPT 18. BELFAST.

Oh the responsibility! As we approach the dining room, we need to respond to the chorus of Good Mornings, from the pretty Russian greeter at the door. Two? You share? No we don't share! (Obligated Laughter) Good morning. The captain. The maître d' Good morning. The servers. Good morning. The assistant servers. Good morning. Good morning. Our personal server as he places the napkin our laps. And his assistants. Good morning morning morning .

Bob. “They do nice omelets.” Today it’s ham and cheese. R, salmon and eggs scramble. Not my mother’s lox and eggs scramble, best in the world of course, but acceptable on its own terms. Muffins from the muffin man. Jam from the jam man. He offers four kinds in silver salvers. Apricot today thank you. And chamomile tea for me, coffee and milk (in a little silver pitcher of course) for Bob.

And then we depart, passing through a phalanx of well-wishers, the captains in blue, the servers in white. Bye. Have a nice day. Enjoy your day. Goodbye. And over the loudspeaker, it's the cruise director, "the gangplank is open. We hope you have an excellent day in Belfast."

A bit dreary out. Guess it's the season although Patter tells there will be some sun and not too cold at 63 degrees. I'm proudly wearing my newly purchased Team Glasgow 2014 polo. Wonder how it will go over in Belfast.

We're at the tour dispatch and Bob can't find his key. We rush upstairs. It's in the door holder. So many obligations.

Our guide, John Quinn. Wonderful accent and Irish humor. Central casting. Where first American soldier landed in 1944. Decimated old community of sailors’ town. Docklands was a vibrant community. Now apartment high rises. Post conflict 1998 redevelopment began.

TITANIC MUSEUM (EVERY TOWN HAS TO HAVE ONE)

ASSEMBLY BUILDING

CITY HALL

The point I guess

Belfast means mouth of the river. In this case it's the River Lagan. Pass by the spectacular Titanic museum. And the boat that ferried passengers to the Titanic, the Nomadic.

Compact city. Can't get lost in Belfast, he says. In unison our little band says "Yes we can".

Community of two cultures: Nationalists see selves as Irish. Unionist as Northern Irish and hold allegiance to England.

Belfast had more to offer than conflict areas. Tourism becoming a major industry. New hotels.

1970's. Europa Hotel most bombed hotel in the world. Before Balkans and the Middle East.

Tour of City Hall. Opened in 1906. Charter 1613. King established Belfast. Queen Victoria in 1888 gave Belfast its city status.

Beautiful marble. Our city guide: Rotunda rises 173 feet. Statue of Frederick Earl of Chichester. "The Black Man". Councilors serve 4 years, the Lord Mayor 1 year and gets to have his/her portrait painted by an artist of choice.

Robing Room. 60 Councilors put on their robes. A lot of pomp. One of our number tries on The Lord Mayor's robe.

LORD MAYOR OLIN

Council chamber. Nancy and I have our pics taken in The Lord Mayor's chair. Irish oak carvings. Partition of northern Ireland signed here at covenant table in opposition to home rule.

Reception room reflects multiculturalism of the city. Next room about the Titanic. "They're obsessed," says Bob.

GUESS WHAT

Reception room is "massive" a word Beth and I have fun with because it seems to be a favorite in these parts. "I want to have my bar mitzvah here".

SUITABLE FOR A BAR MITZVAH

Now our walk. The Great Hunger. Joined US Civil War. 70 million Irish now.

Most buildings were built in the 1860's. Same size. During the conflict pedestrians were searched by soldiers. Curfew at night. Those days are gone.

NOTE WEIRD JUXTAPOSITION

Streets full of shops. Favorite food of the natives: All Day Fry. "You'll love or you'll hate it".

All military installations demolished as part of the peace process.

Belfast one of the safest cities. Old town.

There was always fighting here. Presbyterianism. Emigrants settled in America, Canada. Nothing simplistic about Irish history.

Streets were cobbled. Not now. Reclaimed land. River came up to here.

Leaning clock. Built On silt.

Customs House. People got news from public speakers. Speakers Corner. Got Irish to fight against Franco during the Spanish Civil War.

"Snapshot" walk. I'll say.

BEAUTIFUL GRAFFITI IN UNDERPASS

At the Pub, culmination of the tour. We all drink Guinness stout; it's heavy. The four of us have a lovely time.

Sitting in the bus looking out at buildings, we note that the new and old have an uneasy relationship.

Why a Titanic Museum? They built it here. Therefore, "Nothing wrong with that ship".

Beth and Nance go off to The town’s titanic museum (later discover they wisely decided to go into town, ate at a pub and shopped ) whilst we after some cabin respite head to Horizon (aka the buffet) sadly no dining rooms open for lunch on Port days. Four servers ask us if we want drinks just before our glasses of cabernet arrive,

Egg drop soup a little salty. London broil tough. Indian Masala good.

We succumb. The desserts in the Horizon Bistro are too enticing (an entire aisle of just desserts) and we import a chocolate pecan cake for Reuel (sublime!) and cookies -- chocolate chip and chocolate chocolate chip cookies -- for Bob all of which we have in our stateroom with the red wine we have on hand.

Therefore nap.

In Princess Theatre's second row. Can hear the local Irish dance troupe tapping behind the curtain. Interesting fact--Crack = Fun.

They are very entertaining. Easy banter. 2 young women tappers and one older man, an Irish dance virtuoso. Band of four. Irish harp included. Also sing. Well programmed. Started 20 years ago on the old Royal Princess. Probably sailing when that long ago we were on the old Regal Princess.

I take a tour of the spa with a cheery Philippine who seems intent on selling me a manicure. The spa is beautiful, all tile, soft music and serenity. There's a thalassotherapy pool with bubbles and bursts of annealing water, stone hot beds, floating hot water beds, various steam and sauna rooms and a variety of rainforest showers. Alas even at $39 a day it's sold out for sea days--only port days available. We'll see.

The news: U.S. senate to vote on our response to ISIS in Syria. Tomorrow we should know the results of the Scottish election.

After listening to the all-girl string quartet from the balcony: (I guess that perspective is what the décolletage is meant for). Followed by the incredible Claudio (I know "their" name now) doing great feats of strength (Claudio) and agility (his tiny partner in her slither suit).

Make arrangements with Beth about tomorrow and confirm reservations for our winemaker’s dinner.

Then Nirvana. Room service. Club sandwiches (they cut off the crusts!) with our white wine and one of the selection of movies on our TV, The Wolf of Wall Street, directed by Martin Scorsese, starring Leonardo DiCaprio. Almost brilliant. Loved its driving passion, obscenities, display of greed and cynicism in the true--life protagonist's rise and fall as a stock hustler.

"Very pleasant day," says Bob. Music to me ears. And yes.

FRIDAY SEPT. 19 COBH (CORK), IRELAND.

SCOTLAND VOTES NO. This news greets us as we arise. And we are both strangely elated. What's it to us? I suppose that we were in Scotland just two days ago invested us in the referendum. Besides we are the Traditionalist Generation according to Google (pre Baby Boomers) so we like our traditions--a United Kingdom--also we think it's a better economic decision for both England and Scotland. Fun being in the center of history. Looks like western Scotland voted No although we were in the west where the window signs were predominantly Yes. Later a commentator says that those windows with no signs were the No votes.

Stretch class with Ula. She was going to do an abs afterward contingent on attendance but I've miles to go and schedules to keep and besides it’s not clear anyone is staying on for that torture. Ula at my questioning suggests no one typically does, this being a port day.

As we pull into Cobh (pronounced Cove) it is clear the place is redolent with charm. We admire the grand houses higher up on the hills.

In the dining room breakfast is running slow.

Picking up the girls at 9:25. Usual mishigas with train tickets. But as Beth says "mission accomplished"; trains to Cork from Cobh leave every half hour.

COBH WELCOMES A LEVIATHAN

Pretty scenery along the way, lakes, hills, various shades of green. The signs of the stops along the way are in Gaelic with English translation.

ON THE WAY TO CORK

We're on our own. With some direction from a station man we find the hop on hop off bus. It's full and we'd rather not wait a half hour at a bus stop for the next one. Up to and through the city centre more or less following the walk path with historic signs "You Are Here". The English market finds us, open only on Fridays as it happens. Sample olives, tarts, it's overflowing, bustling and fun.

ST. PATRICK'S CHURCH

Lovely man asks if we need directions. (They volunteer here.) Yes, to something old I say. Bob adds, the Cathedral. He sends us back through the English market, up to the fountain, over the lovely bridge (the scenery has gotten more in keeping with expectations) and to the cathedral--fantastic beautiful gothic revival pile we enter for 4 euros. Beth remains outside to commune with nature. Of which there is sufficient and scenic supply.

A service is on so no photos are permitted. Then it’s over and snap snap.

Wending our way back the 3rd time thru the English market to get to the main drag, which Bob regards as "pretty posh" though it's the food court behind Marks and Sparks that yields toilets. Still able to sniff out a tacky store (actually selling mainly CD's) for a leprechaun snow globe and 3 t-shirts for 20 euros (left over from our last European trip).

2 0'clock train back to Cobh is full but fortunately we get seats for the half hour ride.

TITANIC (OF COURSE) EXHIBIT AT COBH

SINGING SAD IRISH SONGS

We are exhausted. I can barely move but do manage to lie down and we both nap a little before assaying the Irish opera singer in the Piazza; she's good and operatically sings those sad and sentimental songs. (She readily admits to that characterization, says Irish songs are like boomerangs, you throw them out but they don't come back. Just like the emigrants who sang sadly of Ireland but never came back). She ends her set with I Could Have Danced All Night and dances with Nat our dance instructor (one of them; there are 5 staff certified as Zumba instructors).

"EXCLUSIVE" FREEBIES

There's the exclusive lounge for us exclusives. Steak Tatar (not exactly Bob's beau ideal; Reuel's treat) is the main appetizer. And Chivas Regal Rob Roy (delish at $5 each). Then, continuing the joy of a loyalty deal, we get a $15 bottle of red wine, a merlot, to take with us to dinner. Apparently that's the deal every night. If that's a cruise-wide policy for Platinum and above, we're solid and won't even consider some sort of alcohol package in the future. Fatima our chatty Philippine server opens the bottle for us.

OUR SENDOFF IN TITANIC ERA COSTUME.

PRETTY CITY

The Mentalist. How does he do it?

THE BRAIN IS A WONDROUS THING

Dinner at 8. And we are not treated with sneers and disdain for carrying on our cheap (albeit Princess certified) bottle of wine. Rather the assistant server says "in addition to your wine would you like anything else to drink?" Perhaps they recognize that we are exclusives (and drinky ones?). Perhaps.

YUM

R. Cold smoked salmon and soused crayfish tails (Bloody Mary marinated) (wonderful). Alaska style seafood soup with whitefish, salmon, mussels, Shrimp and crostini. (Sounds amazing but I don't see any of these fish and it's a little salty so I only have a little--such restraint; I know, you say, it's not a cioppino);  Roast beef with Yorkshire pudding and gravy. "This is a lovely dinner" says Bob, "and flavorful too")

B. Mixed greens (not blue cheesy enough--prefers a more robust dressing).

Let's walk the other mile. English toffee ice cream. Fine.

There's Beth and Nancy in Vista Lounge so we join them for the English Pub Show, a cheery romp with swains and wenches, that is, the Princess singers and dancers and the cruise manager’s staff dancing, singing and making corny jokes. It's burlesque

CONTORTIONIST IN THE PIAZZA

PUB SHOW

They won't dance, don't ask them. And they are tired so everyone proceeds to respective cabins after the finale.

SATURDAY SEPT 20. AT SEA.

It's 6:15 in the morning. I should say sick 15. I've got Beth's cold or is it Nancy's cold?

Beth got it first, Bob reminds me. Oh joy. Am I going to hack away during stretch class? To be shunned? Evicted?

I am allowed to remain through both classes. And even through Zumba with the fabulous Brazilian, Nat, I hold my place for a half hour so I can be in the first row. During cool down Nat always plays a sad song that asks the question "Will you still love me now that I'm old and have lost my looks?" Which brings me down--and I presume 90% of the class--big time. And afterward Beth--back row--tells me she's torn because her boxing class conflicts with her ballet class. Embarrassing riches. But we agree to meet at the ballet bar.

Ballet class! How those words excite me. Deprived, yes deprived as a child of ballet. My mother refused to let me take a ballet class for fear I'd become GAY. (See how that stratagem worked.) She placed me in a far more manly and far less desirable tap class. Anyway better late than later. And I love it. Positions, footwork, French names, posture.

Bob and I are determined to eat but eat light, so Horizon (so much better than saying the Piggy Buffet) offers us soup and salad for me and hummus a Lufthanser (aka kufta) and a vegetable roll for Bob.

And there's Beth. She and Nancy are going swimming. No need to think. I'm there. Change to one of my bikinis and soon swimming with the girls and Jacuzzi-ing. Not hot but there are bubbles and jets under the watchful eye of Barry Manilow on the super-screen (Lola she was a showgirl) permitting me to tell my tale of knowing him when he was musical director for an off-Broadway show I was in, The Drunkard (prophetic title?) in NYC. Then a Canadian guy comes into our four-person jacuzzi and sends Beth and me away when he reveals his conservatism (would have voted for Rob Ford, the druggie Toronto mayor, again; despises welfare). Pleasant respite though. At last by the pool.

A NIECE AFLOAT

Our Winemaker’s Dinner is in the wine cellar.  Donnafugata Anthilla. Lovely nose. Light and fruity. Beth is enjoying her wine. She says she wants to retire. Then with conviction. "I'm not going back". Soup brilliant.

READY FOR THE EVENING

WINE MAKERS DINNER IS SPECIAL

OUR PERSONAL SERVER

OUR PERSONAL CHEF

We reminisce. When as girls they visited Bob and me in New York. Our visiting Beth in Wisconsin. Nancy's memory is wonderful, precise of her times with us.

The gnocchi "very good!" "Oh yes!"

Beth and I get an extra lobster. With the sauce delicious. Heavenly! Truffled mushrooms and pâté atop the steak. Yes.

A LITTLE SOMETHING FOR THE DOG

The wines pour freely. The chef comes out to say hello to our accolades.

Then Napoleon of three mousses. Chocolate and Cointreau. Amazing.

The Winemakers dinner -- Memorable.

In the Piazza everyone but me too tired to dance. So to our cabins and to bed.

SUNDAY SEPT 21. AT SEA.

It's Kenny, the Scottish physical therapist, who looks like Harry Potter by his own admission, who's on this morning for stretch and abs. I like him best of the three who teach these classes--although the middle European giant is gorgeous--because Harry—oops Kenny--has a soothing voice (as he exacts torture) and a charming sense of humor as well as that infectious brogue.

Barely time to rush up to the buffet (which I like to pronounce as in Warren Buffet, Brit style) for a lox half bagel and some fruit and tea. Bob chooses to absent himself this morning from Zumba in the crowded (mostly buffeted [American pronunciation] by pushy little Asian women he asserts) TV studio space.

Today's instructor is Sarah, who although to my limited lights is just dandy as a ballet instructor, is a little wooden as a Zumba leader, not providing sufficient directionals. Half hour before class there's Mr. Main placeholder (David I’d later learn) next to me in front. He's like some Rodney Dangerfield character. Everything's rat a tat criticism as far as he's concerned. The entertainment is aimed at “a 4 IQ”, there's no indoor pool, just wasted space in the pool fountain, endless litany of failures.

Beth who did make the class and has her preferred place on the rear comes up with a remedy for the overcrowding, as at the Y give people numbers and thus limit occupancy.

We chat after class about whether to cancel the St. John's tour. In the room Bob and I watch the tour lecturer’s presentation to better determine what to do.  No conclusions yet.

Resting. I can barely move but after Bob suggests a few pain pills we are able to levitate to Horizon for a funny English type sandwich of roast beef and red beets--it's good, who knew-- and a necessary glass of cab.

Then it's back to the ballet, before which I do some weights; I like my look in my blue Indonesian trouserines as I strain, and then with Beth to the bar. I love it, finally at this age taking ballet up but alas I can't/won't do the jumps and let's face it ballet has 'em.

Bob's quiet in his robe in the cabin when I return. Is he having a good day? I fill out forms, for a transfer to Kennedy and an extra future cruise $100 pp deposit--who knows if we'll want to use it after the 2016 itineraries start to come out in October. I've my eyes on a LA round trip to Hawaii, Samoa and Tahiti and glamorous places like that in 2016.

Time to shower and get ready for the strenuous activity of the wine tasting at 3.

SHAKE, RATTLE AND ROLL: MARTINIS NOT THE SHIP

The Wine Tasting. This was really complimentary for Elite class (we're almost but no cigar) but only $9.50 for the rest of us lesser mortals. The wines, not so great.

Next. Culinary Academy. International cuisine with different ships. First Philippines. Spicy stew with coconut milk. Mother- in-law dish. If she doesn't like suitor puts more chili in the dish. Lots of garlic.

Indonesia. Beef bell pepper.

ANOTHER CUISINE PRESENTATION

Tony the master of ceremonies is a natural. Montenegro. Calamari.

The Captain’s Party. We invited Beth and Nancy for cocktails in our daily Platinum/Elite lounge fest in the Vista lounge but it turns out it's the captain's party for us (though we later discover that our invitation is for tomorrow night) so we are surprised to be shaking hands with the captain himself and Lisa the cruise director. As to the captain, Mama Mia. Formerly an Enzio Pinza like disembodied voice over the sound system, in the flesh he is gorgeous. I refer my party to his hip to shoulder ratio.

OH CAPTAIN.

Crooners for drinks. 007's all around. Nancy not sure what drink she wants but finally comes around. Lovely setting. It's still light enough to see the whites of the waves from comfortable chairs. Beth, not happy with the prospect of a rocky ship--and there has been some motion the last few days and warnings—they are overheated says the main placeholder--sits with her back to them.

After these drinks and the drinks from the Captain’s party, we are sufficiently lubricated to head for the dining room ready for fun and fun and giggles we will have.

Dinner. R. Chilled Spanish Gazpacho. (Fabulous).  Trenette Ai Frutti di Marecon (very happy as is Beth) Grandma's coq au vin. Yummy! Good country cuisine.   B. Beth. Pasta fruit di mate and coq au vin. Nancy air cured dried Swiss beef appetizer. Pasta. Bob lychee nut watermelon (very good) black bean chowder Stroganoff. ("Very very good") a couple of bottles of wine and we are laughing and being irreverent (our server who, winkingly I think, when asked a question answers, “Who knows?” helps) Beth notes that we’re having a hell of a better time than the other diners.

This merriment persists as we watch from the Piazza’s parapets the singers, dancers and combined orchestras present an international musical extravaganza--no particular theme but all is very good including, you guessed it, the stirring Beauty and the Beast duet from a talented two of the ship's production solo singers.

How times have changed since I was a ship singer lad. Someone in Zumba told me Willis, the black singer, was up for the Kinky Boots role (which one?) and that these singers are constrained by the requirements of the shows and actually on their own are exceptional. Could be. Who knows?

Bob says, with just a hint of sarcasm, yes he left Kinky Boots to sing on a Princess ship.

At this point No one wishes to join Reuel in the theatre for the next act so it's off to beddy bye for the weary quartet. A good day. A good night.

MONDAY, SEPT. 22. AT SEA.

I'm up an hour early, at 5 thinking it is 6. This turning back the clock thing is frequent and sometimes confusing on the transatlantics, which this is. I do climb upstairs to the gym sufficiently early to get at least a half hour of elliptical; as it is my cold has gotten worse. Green mucous--not cool—a scary cough and drip, drip, postnasal drip.

Fast breaky at Horizon though it is fairly elaborate. Mine is lox, cream cheese on a half bagel plus eggs. B scrambled eggs, bacon, hash brown and English muffin: "A delicious breakfast I would not ordinarily have in real life." I remind Bob that we travel enough that this is real life. The breakfasts on our land tours are fantastic too.

Ula is the cheery instructor and she has come up with new contortions especially for us, a brim-full class of about 35 on mats.

Bob goes off to do his treadmill exercises and I to Zumba. Sarah is the instructor and since I'm a half hour early to get my front row place, Joan, for that I discover is the name of the tiny Jewish lady from Phoenix (two homes in Arizona,) regales me non-stop with her tales of trying to get a soft baked apple for breakfast and walking 11 1/2 miles per her ever-present pedometer yesterday up and down stairs and around the ship. She says she and her Placeholder husband will never travel on this ship again--as I with a rare edgewise word likewise assent.

Nice antidote for the cold. Second day, I draw a nice hot bath and soak with my Janet Evanovich novel--the least offensive on the shop rack

LUNCH. R. Chicken soup with meatballs. (Bob says that's what's called Italian wedding soup.  Actually the meatballs are Ike little matzo balls in this one.) Good not brilliant. Beef cottage pie. Bob has seasonal fruits prior to his cottage pie. ("It's a very good Shepherd’s pie. Such wonderful comfort food." True. There is a nice cushion of potato before you get to the stew meat.)  Service slow even though we've no plans and I've got some catch-up on this phone diary to do.

COMFORTING FOOD

We watch a ballroom dance class led by Lisa in the Piazza and silently note that it is not suitable for male couples. "Ladies on one side, gentlemen on the other."

The sun is reasonably out so these notes get written on our balcony by the happy sun worshipping one of us, and I'm out there for almost two hours with the sun, the sea and Stephanie Plum, amusing fictional detective lady.

Inside I tell Bob that I like looking out at the water. It makes me feel hopeful. (I wonder if that's true.) Actually being on a cruise ship can make a person feel hopeful. You're in a bubble of prosperity after all. Insulated. Looked after. People are up planning your day for you (though this one feels especially desultory--I'm bound, at the suggestion of the Bobster, not to take the boxing class and the cocktail hour Zumba. Speaking of which, I think we're suffering a bit from cabin fever so we head upstairs to cadge some hors d’oeuvres (cheese) for our in-cabin cocktails.

He cautions me not to take too many Alevert tablets and I hug him and say you take care of me and he says you put food on my table. I point to the unimpressive collection of cheese slices and say “Here have that. . . . And then you get a martini”.

Which he does. We see on the news that Dr. Zeke Emanuel of that famous Jew trio says he hopes to live to 75. Bob says he means that that's when you begin to deteriorate. I say I've begun at 73. I need a doc to say lean over and ask, is it you knees, your joints. Take two pills. You'll be fine. Bob. He might say drink the blood of babies. I say. Here's my martini. That's a start.

Here we are a half hour early for the seven o'clock Magic show. Bob sits us in the last row of the orchestra so we can duck out if we hate it. I say I'm in for all 43 minutes of the show having seen a promo for it on the in-cabin tv that looked like it would be at least professional--featuring an attractive Italian guy. Premise: what happens at the hotel after the magic act?

We've got our reading matter to pass the time. But just before the show the captain comes on to say St. John's because of bad weather will not allow us to dock. Tomorrow will be a sea day. The audience groans. "There's one thing we can't control is the weather." He also warns us that there will be terrible weather during the night.

We decide that our $70 for the tour will be returned and that St. John's can't be happy about it either. The captain won't get his honorary Admiral ceremony for bringing the largest ship ever into their port. Looked like a charming place.

But the show must go on. And it's a polished affair full of high techy goings on.

SIGN FOR YOUR SUPPER

Waiting for our green salads and cheeseburgers, we watch the in-cabin movie “Chef”. Our order arrives in 20 minutes delivered by one of the array of comely room service guys and gals.

As to Chef. Rather light. Chef loses job and operates food truck which enables him to bond with son and ex-wife. Good scenery. But so what.

Bob and I embrace. We agree it's been a lovely day.

TUESDAY SEPT 23. AT SEA.

Looks like we've put together some sort of Arab coalition and have ramped up bombing the hell out of evil ISIS. Are we looking at a long term conflict? Ai yai yai. Rough seas ahead.

It's the giant Rumanian (or something like that) who officiates at stretching and crunching.

We like the high tops at the Horizon Bistro. Better to watch the roiling rolling sea (and it is roiling today-- we regret missing St. John's which looked picturesque. Bob says we'll never see it now. I say never say never. (But he's probably right.)

I'm first to take my place for Zumba (Beth comes in shortly thereafter) and then Main placeholder--a Bronx guy I later discover--asks if my wife likes Zumba--I say I have no wife. Your girlfriend then. Pause. It's my same sex spouse. "Doesn't matter." (Interesting, the assumptions.) He doesn't much like it actually. (It has become too crowded for Bob.)

The conversations among our surrounding neighbors veers toward reminiscence. All, Floridians or Arizonians now, were East Coasters in youth and there are fond remembrances of NYU's Bronx campus, the lower east side. How everything’s changed now, cleaned up, safer. Even Bedford Stuyvesant. My cue to join in with my tale of when I ran youth employment programs there and my assistant, an ex-boxing champ named Angel, protected me on the way to the subway, except for one day when I was mugged. Blank looks.

SPECTATOR

Bob is going stir crazy in the suite (well it is) so we go strolling--1st upstairs bravely into the air which is surprisingly ok though few are watching the rock band on the giant screen. Downstairs to pass by the various activities in the lounges then on to the Piazza--to stare down. The pianist plays a polka and a fat old couple dances. Bob says they're better than we'd be. I say "Did I tell you when Trudy and I. . . “Yes I know !" he says of the oft told time my high school girlfriend and I danced a polka at a Polish party and all the Poles surrounded us and applauded. "I just need to give you a word in context and you know the story. You can name that tune in three notes." Much laughter, Bob even remembers an analogous story of when I was at Oxford and we played Northumbrians for the Oxonians who complimented us on the remarkable authenticity of our accents. There are kind people everywhere.

In the dining room, the captain’s magnificent voice announces that we are somewhere near the tip of Newfoundland. Captain then says he needs to increase speed to reach Halifax by tomorrow night. (We were supposed to arrive the following morning.) I say don't rush. He says one in seven swells is higher so the captain "pounds the vessel" through the swell. Who knew? Very slow service. We wait and wait for our entrees Reuel. Seafood stew. Bob. Crispy potato and pea samosa with minted yoghurt after our Edemawaq cheese soup appetizer. Luke warm.  When they finally arrive after 55 minutes they are good but only warm. But really! 

The woman next to me, also waiting, shows me her rare hamburger. She asked for well-done, however. She rejects it and asks for "anything fast". She immediately gets a steak and kidney pie. Huh?  Bob complains to the supervisor who says “I apologize” several times and says lunch should take an hour and that we should let them know if we are in a hurry and everybody comes at once. Bob says he will write a complaint. He's magnificent in his ire.

Presentation. “Life at Sea” with Lisa the cruise director. Making a lifestyle choice when choose to do a contract. Her first ship when she was 16. Now need to be 21. Only exception, dancers. Very addictive lifestyle. No 2 days the same. 1350 crew members, 50 different nationalities.

For some, not for them. They think they're coming for a holiday. Some can't share cabins. Then there’s Homesickness.

Contracts vary by department: Deck, medical 4 months on, 2 months off. Entertainment boutiques 6 months on, 2 months off--work 7 days a week. Stewards 9 mos. For Lisa her 2 months is great freedom.

Operationally they prefer long contracts.

TYPICAL WELL-FED PASSENGER

Changeover day. New passengers on and some crew members leave. Generally 30 leave for vacation, 30 on.

Ship runs 12 mos. Around the clock.

Hiring offices in US, Canada, Australia. Others manning agencies. Must stay with Princess. Loyalty program for crew.

Princess offers each cabin a bathroom, fridges and sinks. Can purchase satellite phone card. Other ship lines only provide phones in public areas.

Petty officers cabins’ blue, Officer cabin is larger.

Management have their own cabin. 2 stripes--double bed.

Crew mess is 24 hours a day.

WHERE THE CREW LIVES. NOT BAD.

Rules and regulations. Not all can adapt. One Privilege for officers: Deck Privilege. Can use passenger spaces, such as the Horizon buffet and some bars.

Petty officers mess is at scheduled times.

Recreational facilities. Have a crew welfare coordinator--her job for crew. Multiple events.

Set area for recreation. Quiet time: Can't make noise.

Crew has a gym.

She supports crew club. Band nights. Zumba classes. Fitness instructors run spinning and yoga classes.

Cruise shop. All the needs. Internet. Hires professors to help crew. Online courses.

Crew office is the passenger services office for crew, such as they support crew getting ashore with proper credentials.

Crew accommodation office. Problems with staterooms. Inspection.

Medical center. Before they board all crew must be examined and meet medical requirements.

"Baby Doc,” assistant ship’s physician  looks after the crew. Daily clinics.

Human resources mgr. provides confidential service. Work related or problems in personal lives. 24 hour help line too. Insures correct procedures.

Training. All have their job plus safety duty.

Incinerator room. Crew separates their garbage.

Chain of command. Bosons drive tenders, do painting etc.

Passenger questions:

Medical emergencies? Work with local coast guards if absolutely necessary. Helicopter evacuation.

Brig aboard? Yes.

I ask about fraternization. Nominated Travel Partner. Try hard to keep couples together. Can't ask for everything, “this ship, this schedule”.

Cruise Director Lisa met her husband onboard ship.

Shore leave. When in port, either the Captain or staff captain stays on board.

Princess provides crew club fund for tours for crew.

Officers get stewards whom they pay. Other crew clean their own cabins.

Pay. Choice. Can be cash card. Or paid directly. Electronic.

Couples with children. One may leave to take care of kids. No way to take care of their kids on board.

Food was loaded in Copenhagen. Some in Ireland.

Entertainers live with crew but eat in passenger areas.

Princess pays for flights at the beginning and end of contracts.

Tax. Outside of states. Good deal. USA nationals pay tax.

WHO'S UNDER THE CAPTAIN?

Crew families. If couple, each with own cabin, can rent the other cabin to crew members for their family.

Crew has a pool.

In Santa Clarita, corporate office finds entertainers. They video shows once a month to send to corporate to maintain standards.

Lisa started as a dancer, 11 years. Then joined cruise staff. It took 6 years to become a cruise director.

Uniforms. Tailor aboard. Laundry service. Crew don't purchase.

Not many American crew members.

Safe return to port procedures. The ship is designed in zones. This one has 8 zones.

Bob asks how often the cruise director is rotated to other ships. Depends on itineraries. Some more experienced in certain areas. Suited for smaller ships, some larger, party crowds. Kept on pretty long for consistency. She 3 years on the Ruby, 3 on Crown, this 3 months.

No age limitations. Except singers and dancers.

Veddy interesting presentation.

So guess who falls on his ass (to be more precise, left arm and side) hard (!) in 4 o'clock Zumba. Yup ,first time in Zumba, something I always feared. But I get up and continue dancing. Afterward I tell the little Asian lady next to me that it’s a good thing you weren't close to me, I would have fallen on you. She gives me good advice. Take something, you'll feel the pain tomorrow. I say yes and I'll soak in a hot bath (which I'm doing now--it's warm--but thank you mini suites for providing baths). Nat says it was the motion of the ship. My pal Judy says she almost fell. I say I'm glad to blame anything but me.

Clearly Bob just up from a nap is concerned. I'm glad to have another story to tell because I'm an idiot.

OUR RETREAT

I soak for an hour. Despite that my back tells me there will be consequences. We'll see.

Leisure time for some martinis. (Tip: pack lots of vodka in our rum runners.) We watch the cruise lecturer on Halifax.

At dinner with B&N in the Allegro dining room which is lovely. The theme is Italian and the servers have to dress like gondoliers which they seem to accept with some humor. Beth who proposed we meet for dinner however doesn't seem to be enjoying herself.

OMG

Appetizers; me eggplant. Too salty. My seafood is quite nice, light. Minestrone. Bob. Prosciutto Sandeloni.  Good. He and Beth. Minestrone. "Very good, hits the spot". Bob. Bean soup "quite good. Chef does good thick soups." Bob. Chicken Sala Boccaccio ala pollo. Good. Nancy's seafood, her usual plaint a little too salty. Beth and I with our spaghetti and meatballs are not transported. Even with low expectations, no big deal. Nancy. Tiramisu. She likes it.  Bob and Reuel an Italian Ice cream pie thing. Whoopee! Yes!

We 're all tired. There will be no comedians or sax players in this evening's future but a pain relief pill for one of us.

WEDNESDAY, SEPT 24. HALIFAX.

Early morning rise. Our colds persist.

Ah the days are dwindling down to a precious few (four). The Big news: coke to cut calories by 20%. How? Make the can smaller. WTF.

Sky beautiful with dark clouds especially as seen from our balcony. I can appreciate it since I've decided that my aches and stiffness this morning (from the Great Fall) are whispering “no no” to any stretching and abs work.

Ah here's our room service waiter with our juice (I'm getting our disparate pile of morning vitamin pills ready) coffee and hot water and croissants and jam. This is all a ritual I miss when I'm upstairs bending. Even get to use my tea infuser now. Even get to watch early MSNBC programs, pertinent conversations on Morning Joe. Geoffrey Sachs (Times) and Richard Hass (state department) are at loggerheads as are of course Jane Harmon (rich ex congresswoman ; head Woodrow Wilson Foundation) and Dan Seynour (George Bush neo-con) about what US should do in the Middle East re. ISIS. Realize they're all Jews wishing one another Happy New Year (sunset tonight!). Realize Bob has it good when I'm gone to stretch and crunch. On the other hand, most of the news is very depressing; targeted breathing while lying on your mat is not.

What to do? Ok I'll skip the 9 0'clock Zumba and the mahjong get-together. (Though Bob, sly puss, suggests I go, it's unhosted and I would require a Mrs. Cohen leaning over my tile rack with instructions and cultural notes.)

There's so much on the calendar that I want to do and I can’t figure out how to squeeze in lunch: 11:30 is cast costume presentation. Noon, understanding market terminology.  But 12:30, ballet class, 1:15 magic lessons, 2:15 lecture on reincarnation. Lunch at 3? But by then my back might be up for the 4 0'clock Zumba (line up at 3:30). Oy.

10 o’clock approaches after we breakfast up (big time)

ON THE LINE

and I decide to get on the horse that threw me and try the Brazilian line dance with Nat. People in readiness are whirling about and trying their steps.

I bump into Bob on his way upstairs with the cough medicine we agreed to share.

Nat is a hoot with the (literally) hundreds of Brazilian dance enthusiasts on the balconies and the Piazza--and hundreds more onlookers (for god’s sake join in guys). I wonder if I can keep up. Do. Fun.

AT THE BALLET

We bypass the dance-off presided over by Nat again as an Asian couple negotiates a practiced tango surrounded exclusively by appreciative Asians (what's with that?) on our way thru Club 6 to the Piazza for the costume show which is a bust--not really a miked presentation but an invitation to walk down to the Piazza, touch the few costumes and ask questions of two male dancers and the production manager. Has a liability issue canceled the backstage presentations we've enjoyed on previous trips?

We go back to watch the elderly Asians do their tangos. Apparently this is not the final because Nat gathers them all together for instructions for a future dance off.

I pick up some of the market lecturer's notes but decide not to stay. Ballet is next. And lovely it is. Beth's there too. And my little friend Judy chattering away. Turns out she didn't lose 87 pounds. That's what she weighs.

Upstairs on the pool deck for a couple of slices of pizza and a glass of wine. Just right. James Taylor's serenading us from the giant screen (though under the wind protective port overhead we can't see him until after lunch is consumed) and the sun is out. Neat.

Reincarnation lecture. Sonya Luga.

Ian Stevenson. Psychiatrist. Studied people with past life recall. Near death experiences.

Ancient Egyptians. Book of the dead. Present afterlife. King Tut's tomb. Transmigration of the soul. She proposes that they believed in the soul returning to earth.

Buddhism. Siddhartha was incarnated and achieved a transcendent state, consciousness of heaven on earth. Reincarnation and karma intrinsic to Buddhism. Coming back is the opportunity to make things right. Idea of accountability for actions to self and others you meet.

[Buddhist] Tibetan Book of the Dead. Of the Bardo States, the 4th is the moment of death. These Buddhists consciously go to death--move on to another reality.

5th state. Shifting to luminosity. Believe In reincarnation.

Dalai Lama--14th incarnation of Avolokitesvara.

Child to be Dalai Lama is given a reincarnation--test.

Hinduism also believes in reincarnation. India. Sacred reverence for life. Vegetarians. Recognize not restricted to one life. Ex. Worship cows.

NEXT LIFE I'LL BE . . .

Islam. Quran. Taught generally that they deny reincarnation. But mystical sects believe in it. Mystical means people who step out of the conditioning taught by their religion.

Zohar is the basis of Kabbala teachings. Speaks about reincarnation and soul migration. 5000 years ago that soul is divine.

Tree of life, stairway to heaven.

Early Christians had gnostic gospels. Buried, found in 1940's. Make reference to female apostles.

Islam. Sufis: belief in reincarnation.

Taoism founded by Lao Tso. "Birth is not a beginning. Death is not an end."

Ian Stevenson (Canadian psychiatrist) documented 2500 cases of reincarnation. Very specific.

Speaker cites two such cases of children who identified with remarkable accuracy their previous lives.

Near Death Experiences

Clinically dead. Separate from body. All senses intact without the body. But no longer feel pain.

(Shifting from body to pure energy.) Portal of light opens. Sees light at end of tunnel. Once beyond light, euphoria. Life Review. Answers question, how are you doing? After life review, told to go back.

Return.

Never the same . . . Why? Fear of death has vanished.

Every soul is a divine spark. One we the light. Soul exists independent of the body. Soul returns to complete unfinished business. Purpose to bring the ecstasy of life.

Bob. Of the lecture. "We've heard it all before." I say "I'm glad to be reminded." I found it interesting.

My dilemma. Do I go to Zumba at 4 (which I'd like to do since it's with Nat) and get all sweaty or do the family thing and join Beth and Nancy at 5 for first day of Rosh Hashanah (New Year) services such as they may be?

Services. Family thing wins. There's a certain dressy upness and I knock on the girls' door which is just steps from the wedding chapel where services are to be held. I announce that they are making me be Jewish. We all express our ambivalence and trepidation about attending the service.

JEWS CAN GET MARRIED HERE TOO

Perhaps misplaced. When we enter, David, this I discovered is the Main spousal placeholder's name, looks at me with wariness--does he remember me as the gay man with the "same sex spouse" at Zumba--he is apparently the main organizer.

There's much scuffling about to find sufficient chairs and this takes perhaps 20 minutes before the service can begin. Many people are calling Out "Rhoda Rhoda". Is this an appropriate Hebrew form of holiday greeting? No it's a woman standing in back who is a martyr; she won't take any proffered seat.

They keep filing in. I estimate 85-100 in the room. There are types. The kvetchers. Clearly David is flummoxed. His complaining is limited because he organized the event. The tzotzkas (flashy old dames)--in particular the multi-lifted babe with blonde hair and body-strangling immodest dress from Boca Raton, which she announces in her New Jersey accent when we are asked to introduce ourselves. Other similarly accented are mostly from Florida and Arizona, a few outliers like us and the old (who isn't?) couple from Israel to much clucking of approval and, to their evident embarrassment, murmurings of  "the real Jews".

 I can see the congregation trying to figure out why Nancy with the same surname is from New Jersey not San Diego and Beth is from San Diego yet is not introduced as my wife as is the custom.

As to the ceremony, it is fairly painless--we take turns reading passages in English--the woman organizer has passed out the "prayer pamphlets"--except for the Israeli couple who read to much astonishment in Hebrew (I hear one woman  after the ceremony actually praising the man for doing so well; then she clutches his arm, “How is it now there? How was it before the cease fire?” Actually these are questions I’d like answered since we are canceling our December trip to Israel because of how it is. He shrugs his shoulders. "It's fine." Sure. And so it goes. Happy New Year. Next year in Jerusalem? (Clearly not this one.)

After the service I invite the girls to our cabin. We want to see the ship pull into its birth which it can't do until its predecessor, the Celebrity Solstice, leaves. From our balcony we toast the New Year properly with the still available illegal vodka.

And then in the Princess Theatre  it's Colors of the World, one of the production shows designed for this more high tech theatre in the Princess fleet.

We'd already seen it a few times and from our close-in seats I am delighted to hear Beth and Nancy murmuring with approval at the pyrotechnics and professionalism of this all-singing, all dancing million dollar (that's how much it cost to mount this show we were once told) often campy tour of different cultures around the world.

Dinner. We are all delighted, especially Nancy, when the Philippine waiters sing their national anthem to "Miss Nancy" and Nancy joins in. Later they move heaven and earth--finding a key to a locked cabinet in another dining room downstairs--to get her requested mango chutney.

R. Iced papaya cream soup. Risotto con fungi Porcini e Prezzemolo (delicious)Grilled beef medallions. (Almost successful, tender, but a little too salty.) B. Tandoori Chicken. "Flavorful. Indian cooking by way of middle America. Other problem--served luke warm." Nancy. "It needs mango chutney--so badly,") Beth. Risotto appetizer. Tandoori chicken. Nancy. Iceberg lettuce. Tandoori chicken. Nancy says in Tagalog, "I have to go to the dentist. My teeth are rotting". Our server nods, a little confused.

I say I'm full after the great risotto appetizer. But I've got 2 more courses. The iced papaya. I say I wanted to try it because it's different. Beth "I love that about you". R. "Yeah. I do lots of stupid things." Turns out the soup is fun, served in a glass with a straw like a smoothie but it's bland.

Dessert. Mocha fudge ice cream. (I'm not fond of mocha but everyone here loves it.) Feeling, with justification, fat.

It's after 9:30 and we're ready to head home (home being our staterooms these days).

THURSDAY SEPTEMBER 25. HALIFAX.

Up at six to see something of the night sky.

At the crammed elevator there is a crowd waiting. One woman picks us out. You guys going down? Get in. Our (relative) thinness validated. A great way to start the day.

GOOD MORNING HALIFAX

OUTSIDE IN

Waiting for our tour in the Princess Theatre, Nancy and I trade stories about dreams. Either wish fulfillment or fears, she says. We both are lost in situations, unprepared, she as student, I as teacher. Do neuroses travel in families?

Schedule. We line up at 7:53. Out of Princess at 8:05. But loading the enormous (almost double long) busses takes 25 minutes.

Tourist guide. It will be a nice (Canadian) day.

Halifax founded 1749 by Edward Cornwallis.

He built a fortress here; beginning of the American Revolution.

The weather in winter is below freezing. We see old houses with little porches for rainwear and boots.

The Public Gardens are the “jewel of Halifax”. We pass by. (Next visit.)

NOTE CANADIAN MAPLE LEAF IN THE MCDONALD'S ARCHES

Pop 400,000. Note the maple leaf in the McDonald's arches.

Belleville Island prisons were built for the British. American sailors were imprisoned there.  Historical site.

Peggy's Cove is on St. Margaret Bay.

As we near the ocean there are fewer deciduous trees, more coniferous (evergreen) and rock. It’s all rock at Peggy's Cove.

9/11: people whose planes could not land in the U.S. were taken in, hospitality. Anecdotes. I say to Bob, "They lead very quiet lives here in Halifax." "Everything's up to date in Kansas City" he replies. Comforting blandness.

Peggy's Cove, 700,000 people visit yearly. 40 people live there. Of the name, St Margaret's Bay, nicknamed Peggy. Alternate story: 1840's shipwreck. All lost except for small child rescued by family who named her Margaret after the bay. People who visited the cove called her Peggy of the Cove.

This part of Halifax looks like New Jersey.

Guides are made to wear kilts. Ours looks like Colonel Sanders. Kilts don't have pockets, “sporns” instead. Socks have “flashes” on the side. Flash identifies immediate family. Daggers inserted in the sock are Illegal unless used in a ceremonial occasion.

Deer hunting season lasts a month and a half.

Flight Swiss 111 crashed here. Bereaved father from France stayed here, opened up a restaurant.

Fishing licenses restricted. Beginning October to the end of May is the season. Nova Scotia. Billion dollars in fishing product. Put microchips in lobsters so can tell anywhere in the world who the fisherman was, etc.

We see lobster traps. Basic design of the crafts (boats). Cabin in front.

The lobster with the shortest antennae has remained the longest in the tank. Has been attacked by other lobsters. After molting, lobster will eat its own shell.

BRAVE MAN WITH LIVE LOBSTERS

A LIGHTHOUSE MAKES US SMILE

THE MOON?

Peggy’s Cove, the air is pure, it’s sunny, invigorating, and picturesque. We've an hour here.

Can have bad weather. Cove is actually small. Houses were brightly colored so fishermen could identify them in the distance. McGrath's sculptures. Harsh environment for plants. Pass monument to Swiss 111. Pass little fishing cove.

Today lobster fishing licenses cost up to half a million dollars. Anecdote about lobster poacher—“Caught you”. “They're my pets. I let them out in the morning and whistle for them.” He puts them in water. They swim away. "Why aren't you whistling for the lobsters?" “What lobsters?”

32% of population Scottish. Nova Scotia is 90% surrounded by Ocean.

We pass a writer’s house with a mural. He's there waving at us.

And then there’s one picturesque cove after another.

ROCKS AND CONIFERS AT THE APEX

LOBSTER SHACKS

Some big houses on a cove with -sailboats--very desirable.

Beautiful ride back. All the pretty coves and the trees turning colors in the lowland

IMPOSSIBLY SCENIC

Going back into Halifax. Titanic hit the iceberg near here on April 15, 1912. Halifax chosen to retrieve bodies for the White Star lines. Worked in pairs so couldn't steal. Bodies numbered. (Experience from previous sinking.) Possessions bagged with them. Jewish graveyard (10). Catholic cemetery. 128 buried at sea. 209 brought to Halifax. John Jacob Astor most famous. Claimed by his son. We pass the Jewish cemetery.

Back in the city. Curse of the harbor. A Chief put a curse on the harbor because his daughter was done wrong by an officer.

Bridge built on the model of San Francisco’s Golden Gate. Much smaller.

Statue of Joseph Howe. Newspaperman. On trial. Acquitted. Defended freedom of the press. Became governor.

WE'RE BIG

End of war, 4000 war brides, 13,000 children came with them.

GREAT CLIMATE FOR COLORFUL FLOWERS

HONORING THE DADDY OF CRUISE LINES

SALUTE TO IMMIGRANTS

Ask Malcolm our guide (low key style; stories about his life as a social studies English teacher) as to a good lunch restaurant, he says try the Bicycle Thief along the harbor which is where we find ourselves, inside with some harbor views.

"A smart looking place," says Bob. Red wine--a California cab--not cheap but quite nice. We four consume two bottles. Bob pasta, penne siliccia, "Wonderful!"  Beth and Nancy share fish and chips and lobster roll. I like my fish and chips, glad I ordered it.

We get drunk (2nd bottle) and we say Bob is “chagrinchuked” when Beth and I laugh at the tale that our lesbian friend's partner never comes (hahahaha) to our ladies’ dinners.

We walk around the touristy harbor. We'll not get to walk in the historic houses district this visit. Our mission is to find a snow globe (ya gotta have a gimmick) which we do in the pier 21 arcade full of shops and a welcome bathroom.

Zumba class is sparse, only 8 or 9 of us including Judy and the wife of Lionel (the front row theatre patron whom I've dubbed Elvis because of his black hair and long sideburns--decide he's no spring chicken), a couple we've seen on the Mediterranean Princess and whom I've appreciated from afar because they seem to be enjoying their experiences. A mantra for me. Throw yourself into everything you do and appreciate the moments of your life. So there, I’ve said it.

MINI PEGGY LIGHTHOUSE AS WE EXIT

Again we're the biggest thing in port. So what, Carnival Something sitting there nearby uneasily I anthropomorphize. Once released from the dock, we hear the captain’s sonorous advisory, the bagpipes, the honking love boat theme (love exciting and new come aboard we welcome you, which I sing), see the oil rigs and cityscape passing by us. There are islands of green deciduous clusters accompanying us to the open sea once we are past a white red topped lighthouse, reminiscent of the more grandiose one at Peggy's Cove. It's a wittle baby wighthouse. But it's ours for a brief moment before the blue unimpeded empyrean. We are able to have martinis (plenty left over in our contraband bottles. Who'd a thunk it? This time in replacement glasses because I nab Gau in the hall and advise him that he took our glasses from home (“but they were on your tray”--not) and had better replace them.

Fourth night in a row or something I get to luxuriate in a warm/hot bath. Great for relaxing strained muscles and joints and reading a schlock novel.

Formal night. We dress. Beth and Nancy opt out. Katrina (or Katerina) is our server/terribly efficient and Eastern European of course.

DEELISH

B Thai wraps, tomato cream soup. Beef Wellington. R. Also Thai wraps (ordered by mistake--I wanted the Tian of crabs, scallops shrimp, oh well) not much taste. Roasted tomato cream soup, (very good indeed--has a kick) boiled lobster tail (X2, I've learned) and king prawns with lemon butter fondue. (Wonderful--been looking forward to it).

This is the captain’s special dinner. Wonderful rolls.

Desserts. R "floating islands" meringue puffs in a wonderful sauce. Wonderful. Bob. Praline ice cream. Good. And we get a special treat of Petits fours. Double Yum. Too bad we can't take them with us into the states. The sniffing doggie would have an orgasm. And I’m having trouble breathing as we make our difficult way to the theatre on the other side of the ship. Fat. Fat. Waddle waddle.

LOVE THE DRESS-UP KIMONOS

AND THE DRESS UP WHATEVERS

The piano entertainer is introduced as having entertained on 80 ships. He is irrepressible, does piano man (Billy Joel, Elton John) stuff. When he does Grieg, kind of fast pyrotechnical. Can't tell if he's any good because of heavy miking. That incredible sound system again.

We stop into Vista Lounge to hear the black comedian telling jokes as Bob notes "His timing is off" and I note that he does that stereotyping shtick of "we men and you women do . . .".  Blech. But no harm done.

We're tired. (Working so hard you know.) To bed.

OUR STEWARD LEAVES HIS LITTLE FRIEND

FRIDAY SEPT 26. AT SEA.

Early rise. Important to beat the wakeup call at its work. At elliptical it's Prime Minister Cameron addressing parliament, fielding questions from the honorable this and that and expressing resolve against this ISIS threat.

S T R E T C H

SHOWOFF

 Kenny my fave does some gymnastic moves before class which we all hope we won't be required to do--not likely anyway considering the demographic.

Bob has breakfast arranged for us when I get back.

THE ZUMBA INSTRUCTORS

Cuisine show. With executive chef. Making risotto. Much kibitzing, he with maître d'. Lots of olive oil. Garlic. Shallots. Porcini Mushrooms. Short grain rice. Wine. Constant mixing.

CULINARY LECTURE INTERRUPTUS

Then we hear an announcement over the speakers. “This is the bridge. Man overboard. Starboard side.” Is this real?

It’s hard to concentrate after that. A few more minutes and the Captain is on the speakers. Everyone to report to cabins for a head count. That's it for the cuisine show and I'm sorry for Beth who will miss the galley tour, a highlight of the trip as far as I'm concerned. I'm also sorry for the poor creature who is overboard if such there is. We proceed up the many stairs from deck 6 to 15 (I'm sure getting my exercise this morning) there being a huge crowd at the forward elevators.

Walking up a woman hears me saying that everywhere we go we bring disaster. I assure her we caused the volcano in Indonesia, the one in Iceland and now this. I don't explain that I caused the Greek revolution in 1965 when I was there because that would be creepy. Anyway we've done enough obvious damage. Gau our steward seems relieved to see us. I don't suppose he'd get the balance of his tip if we were overboard.

     

So we wait. Bob thinks it was "one of those neurotic Jewish women" who reported it. Captain says a life jacket was observed and then he says he's pretty positive it was a fishing marker that was observed but we are still quarantined to our cabins for the head count "a lengthy process". Are we going to miss the backstage presentation too?

 I take a shower and before it's over the captain is saying over the mysteriously placed speakers (in the shower? I took a shower with the captain. Stop!) that it was a red fishing marker (Bob's Jewish neurotic theory), that we were very responsive and are all on board (all 5000 of us including crew by my count) and that life aboard may resume.

Shortly thereafter Beth and Nancy show up with my stapler, our shot glasses and a frame, their gift with promise of free photo courtesy of Barbara our travel agent. They don't want a photo of the four of us commemorating the trip? Each to her own.

Arrangements to meet for lunch shortly thereafter. Polish waitress, Dorota. Captain saying it was a "pleesure"" to have us on board.

Nancy and I have Thai soup. She very much likes it as do I. Has little shrimps on it. Appropriately spiced. It's part of my combo of salad and Philly sandwich, a favorite of Bob's, so he has the full size version. Beth a salad she likes. Nancy, into this luncheon thing, has a walnut, pear and chocolate turnover on vanilla sauce. "Very good. The pastry is warm and delicate."

Amusing conversation over coffee (and tea) before we head to the theatre for a presentation about the theatre backstage.

Betts is the production manager. She has cast of 16. And Favio the tech director. Draga is a dancer from Romania. Jason black sassy performance mgr. Stef English dancer. Get one of their top 3 choices. 6 seamstresses. Costumes made in Sylvia's of Hollywood. Fabreeze costumes after every show.

THEATRE TALK

Techs set shows the night before and after that night’s performance.

CUTE DANCER

No time for modesty. 8 dressers from other roles onboard ship.

THE PERFORMERS' VANTAGE

Guest performers are generally on 5 days; then transfer to another ship.

Short break before it's the dance contest finals. The wives seem to have more pizazz than these husbands. Nancy recognizes one of the men as the one who criticized her on the elevator for eating ice cream. We note his wife is very thin. No doubt denies her ice cream. They didn't win. So there. The waltz couple wins. He's at least eighty. She's 60. Her dress is gorgeous. It's a waltz for god’s sake. Any evidence of elegance and grace in this modern age needs reward.

ROUGH SEAS

Bob is gathering our things for the final packing. We pick the girls up to get early seats for the Big Shew.

B. Watermelon and feta cheese. R, N and Beth have the seafood trio appetizer. Beth. Zucchini salad with sundried tomatoes, olive oil. "I enjoyed it thoroughly." Nancy and I have a chilled pumpkin cream soup. I like it, spicy, has zing. Nancy is unimpressed. Thinks it's bland. It takes all types. Bob likes his consommé. Nancy wants more cranberry for her turkey which she likes. Bob's and my steak is delish. And then there's the waving handkerchiefs and flaming march of the baked Alaskas. Then a server sings New York New York rather well and we join in. Then a silly dance. It's all very festive.

Nancy has her love boat dream, heart shaped chocolate affair, for which she's developed a taste. The rest of us, dessert of the day--a final night tradition on cruise ships--the baked Alaska. Beth, a Baked Alaska Virgin, loves it.

We hug Nancy goodbye--likely we won't see her for awhile--silently wish her happiness--but I suspect she knows we do.

The final packing flurry. Seems we've a lot more than we started with. There's even the heavy frame the girls bequeathed us. It will house the photo of the four of us superimposed on the map of our Iceland-Northern Europe Transatlantic voyage. Next stop New York. Perchance to dream.

SATURDAY SEPT 27. NEW YORK.

OUR OLD HAUNTS

Of course we're up well in advance of our 6 o'clock wake up call. Night Lights of the city and of the Brooklyn Bridge faintly glitter as we slide into the Royal's dock. There's our passenger Folio (nice way of saying what you spent sukkah!) sitting in our mail slot. We've spent $2500 for our onboard 17 days in addition to the cost of the cruise. What will our 31 day cruise's Folio present us on the 30^th of March?

It's 7 o'clock, the sun is rising and Brooklyn is revealed. Call to Nancy to wish her Bon voyage and happiness.

At 8 o'clock, last gasp of onboard luxe, we pass through the phalanxes of greeting Philippines in white. Princess clearly on to something when it decided to raid the island of Philippines for its best and most charmingly servile.

Pastry and Jams. Scramble with asparagus and cheese (though the chef forgot two of those ingredients).

And I also order bagel and salmon just ‘cause I can and I may never eat again in the cold cruel world of landlubbers.

We've been seated here in the Symphony dining room just outside of the wine cellar alcove, scene of our winemaker’s dinner--pleasant memory among many. "We had quite a lot of wine," says Bob. I reply "We must have because I recall being quite a woozy personage and that I was cautioned on several occasions to use my indoor voice."

Surprised our entree is not coming quickly unlike past last breakfasts which were billed as quick something's and were spit out. But no matter. We are among the last scheduled to disembark.

I wonder about how those who take the 110 day round the world tour manage when returning. Do they remember how to boil water and in our case press the right buttons on the microwave? Bob says  "muscle memory". I guess we can schedule a round the world cruise then.

WAITING

WHEELCHAIR PROSESSION

SAY GOODBYE.

WELCOME TO AMERICA

Beth is waiting outside the casino, our meeting place (though we're entitled to meet in Vista Lounge as "Platinums"). There's apparently a delay--immigration. Great view of the city and Lady Liberty from Alfredo's outside of the Casino.

Thru customs and on the bus at 10:55. On the customs line, they are calling for someone to help a couple who speak Russian. I am tempted. Bob, who sees "the glint in your eye," says "no way". "But my five years of university study could have been rewarded." In truth he saved that poor couple from being stranded on the threshold of America forever.

Through customs and on the bus at 10:55 and then on another when "the Olin family" luggage does not fit in the hold. On the road at 11:15. Then, "Accident Ahead Expect Delays." Yup.

 Just driving thru Brooklyn that familiar feeling returns. Comfort. Bob: "Flower stand. Brick houses on the right. Charming. Where you don't live." (We did spend a year looking at Brooklyn houses to buy in the early ‘80’s.)

12:25 and we're at our American Airlines terminal. On the customs line, they are calling for someone to help a couple who speak Russian. I am tempted. Bob, who sees "the glint in your eye," says "no way". "But my five years of university study could have been rewarded." In truth he saved that poor couple from being stranded on the threshold of America forever.

AGREE. WE HAD OUR DREAMS HERE TOO.

MOOD LIGHTING ON THE NEW PLANES DOESN'T REALLY HELP.

Admirals Club rejects us! Most annoying after paying AMEX $600 a year for its Priority service. Undaunted we do find a perfectly acceptably charming lunch place, Soho Bistro, Altitude Project wine. (Decent). Cheeseburgers for Bob and me with onion rings (both actually very good). Beth turkey sandwich (she likes).

Remember this, oh member of the Long Flights Club, this flying business is agony for you. You can't sit for prolonged periods. Not sure what the problem is, circulation? There are old, infirm people on this aircraft (as well as surprisingly well-behaved infants—were they drugged?) And I seem to be the only one who gets up every half hour to stretch by my seat or at the rear galley.

Tip. Drink lots of water. Stretch.

Out. The San Diego airport seems to add something new every time we travel. The new terminal is very pretty. Not sure how well it functions. But this time all functions well. There’s Grandnephew Jordy helpfully toting our luggage and leading us to Beth’s van. And in short order we are home. Home!  Another memorable trip behind us. And there’s that pile of mail Don has placed on the dining room table waiting.