2016--JAPAN CRUISE. JULY 6-25
Traveling is a pain in the ass. I know. I know it's
supposed to be one of the great rewards of getting old, of having time and
occasional cash. "And we've just begun" adds Bob, ever ready to board
the train to Pessimism Junction. Poor guy. I actually feel guilty (my
birthright after all). Not only did the task of packing our capacious and heavy
luggage fall to him but so did most of the prepping work for our kitchen
remodel that will presumably occur while we're away, such as removing all the
accumulations of the past 40-some years from those shelves and cabinets about
to be coddled or destroyed. I've only the desk work, in charge of
"arrangements". And even these I seem to have bungled, adding to my
husband's angst. Example: I wake Bob at 3 AM (I've been up since 2) only to
subject him to the torture of thinking we will never get to the airport in time
for our 6:15 AM flight. I've apparently summoned an Uber driver who expects to
take us to Mexico inasmuch as I inadvertently pressed the "Passport"
button. He advises we cancel him in favor of a domestic driver with the
suspicious name (nom du plume?) of Ayn Rand. No doubt a follower of her
philosophy as exemplified by his carefully placed tip jar.
Flying, once a joy, is now a fraught experience,
passengers striving to wedge their carry-ins into the compartments above. Young
couples juggling their babies in the aisles across. And the flight attendant
announcing what not to do in case of a water landing. "Anna do not kick
the seat in front of you!" Welcome to the friendly skies.
San Francisco. Our bags easily obtained but Rush to Wait
is the traveler's motto. We've an hour and a half before ANA Air opens its
counter. And next disappointment, the AMEX Centurian Lounge (they are fabulous)
that I'd promised Bob (eggs Benedict and bloody Mary's sweety) is in the
domestic not this international terminal and would necessitate numerous lineups
and security checkpoints. Nah. United First Global lounge spurns our Priority
Pass and Air France lounge which would be amenable requires, we are told, yes,
those security stops. Il Fornaio's cafe will have to do. 30 bucks for croissant
egg sandwiches and cappuccino for Bob, chai latte (learning to love it after
having it every time we visit the fancy appliance store Pirch with our kitchen
designer). But maybe for $50 apiece at the United Lounge with maybe food and
drink included it'd be worth it. For future reference. (Or travel Air France
from SFO.)
Only points I'm getting are for reserving exit row seats.
But can't collect them until we are comfortably seated without having to
manually ply open the exit door for fast escape.
Announced that the time difference between Tokyo and San
Francisco is 16 hours so we'll arrive the next day, Thursday at 3:15 pm. That
means it's a 10 hour flight. Though we've endured worse in our checkered roaming career, it's no
picnic, no walk in the park, and certainly no tiptoe through the tulips.
Lunch Bob's goulash; he enjoys; me prawn and vegetable
tempura with all kinds of sides and sauces.
It's fantastic. If served on proper cutlery it probably would be gourmet
standard. Topped off with cucumber and dill cheese and Hagen Dazs vanilla ice
cream, always a treat.
We arrive at the airport and with my trusty Japanese I
Essentials cheat sheet supplied by Barbara our cruise agent, I shout hello
"koh-née-Chee-wah" and thank you
"ah-ri-gah-to" at all and sundry. That adds to my previous
Japanese linguistic skills ("Sayonara) by 200%. After my trip to the
airport men's I inform Bob that the J's are much better at things than we are.
(The toilets come equipped with a veritable dashboard of buttons and lights,
the dryers virtually kidnap your hands until they are prune fingers.) It is
clear I will share such outrageous generalizations with him (and you dear
reader) because this is after all only a 17 day cruise around the country and
therefore promotes only abbreviated understanding of the culture. Examples: They
like Americans (Caucasians) because they don't recoil at the sight of us. A
cheerful people. How could such pretty people have been our enemies, etc.
We're now nestled in our small room at the MERCURE NARITA
so-called airport hotel. I've taken a shower and washed away some of the
staleness of a long journey to this the land of the rising sun--we've yet to
experience that phenomenon. Bob follows my lead. 
It is a 1/2 hour to terminal 1 and to 2 it's some minutes more.
Food foraging time so we wander the food courts of the departure terminal and
settle on a sit down place. And there's one of those nice laminated pictogram
menus to point at, unnecessary since our pleasant young waiter speaks English.I
choose the fried shrimp and egg salad "set", Bob the ham and egg
salad set. With our cups of coffee and tea. I like that the utensils are
wrapped. Cue to announce, "They are a much cleaner peoples than we!"
(This morning's generalization.) $20.
Then to find our meeting place for the transfer to
Yokihama.(These notes will be extremely valuable if ever we should do this
again [not]) after purchasing a special Japanese gizmo stapler for our Princess
luggage tags. Collecting our luggage -arigato- in preparation for the stapling
ritual (see photo). Life is a collection of all delights--in contradiction to a
book of the sayings of Buddha asserting life is a series of misfortunes, get
used to it, that I discovered at the hotel and which Bob would not allow me to
steal. "But the Gideon's let you take their bibles!"
At hour and fifteen singing Yokahama! to the tune of
Oklahoma! wonder if this bridge we're crossing will ever end. Could that be our
ship in the distance? Is this Osanbashi pier? Hour and half!
Bob unpacks that which he packed. Vodka, olives, and the supplied hors deuves
nestle in the mini-fridge awaiting our steward Ronald's glasses of champagne.
The background news alas is of multiple cop shootings in Dallas. We need to
hear jazz instead. The world is too much with us to quote Hamlet. Until it is
no more, I add.
Meet thoroughly charming young gay men from Edmonton
Canada, Dave and Jay. We 4 are apparently the only gay people on the ship (not). There is one young Asian man who circles around but it would seem
decides not to join our group. Our companions don't know whether to invite him
or not--delicacy. They are apparently very well travelled (were on the previous
segment). So I ask if they work or just have trust funds. (Getting bolder these
days). Jay orders a blue marguerita which looks amazing. He's a sign language
interpreter. Dave a bus driver. Their assigned seating is in another dining
room. Since we're at least 40 years older than they, we'll probably not see
them again. 
Wonder if we'd had any of these wines before since we've
been to so many of these tastings. 1st a Chenin blanc Viognier. The Australians
apparently like twist top wines.
What a Dancy place. No doubt in deference to the Japanese, they've lined up one dance class after another. I catch the tale end of a Latin class of some sort lead by a rather nelly Latin guy, sort of an Hispanic version of Robin Williams doing "Fosse Fossee" in La Cage Au Foux.
Our din din. Crabmeat Quiche for starters. That Bob likes
his says something. My broiled shrimp with accompaniments is quite nicely
sauced, impressive, but not huge. Bob's medallion of beef "good but not
brilliant". Coinciding with recollections of medallions past.
SUNDAY JULY 10.
As we sail into Kushiro harbor, it's warm out but
overcast though the sun is trying to piece through. 
A cheerful smiling lady brings us our breakfast of juice,
egg mcmuffin, orange slices, tea and coffee.
6000 wild bears--eat acorns, 5000 deer. Very foggy in
Japan.'
I like the way they walk. If you had a walk like that you'd have respect. These in captivity live longer than those in the wild but I guess it's a trade off. No snow globes in the gift shop but there's a little plastic solar-operated bobbing owl that Bob is far less enthusiastic about than I for our great room.
Gun control strict in Japan. After 10 years of owning a
handgun can have a rifle. Fewer hunters = more deer.
So here we sit in Wheelhouse waiting to be freed. I'm a little
anxious and a little self/loathing considering the note in this morning's
newsletter that LGBT people had better be careful in the sweet little village
of Korsakov not to show affection or they--We--can be jailed. Yet we choose to
go ashore.
We are going to be "unguided". Once I've found
a snow globe featuring the statue of Lenin, I'm home.
The weather as it turns out is lovely. We get to see the
statue of Lenin and watch the children gamboling.
Then we lose our group.
Panic. We rush to where the buses are supposed to be. Not there. Rush back. Not
there. We join another group. Everyone is waiting. We walk with our adopted
group to the newly appeared buses. More waiting. Our group appears. They were
looking for us. It feels good to be wanted. And found. Besides the prospect of
life in Korsakov without holding hands in public is, however briefly charming
the place might appear, bleak.
The "classical violinist" is performing in the
atrium. He is wearing a sleeveless shirt and does dips and splits. (We've seen
another sleeveless one doing the same thing on another Princess ship--is this a
trend?) He's shameless and he's a Performer!
Turns out I get the whole Japanese breakfast tray of
porridge, fishes and fruits and . . .
Feel noble trying out the other culture's breakfast (though Bob notes
most of the Japanese seem to be having ham and eggs).
Prosperity; Herring fishing, opening of railway (1882),
shipping to Sakhalin before became territory of Russia. Mt. Tengo. (Tengo is A
mystic creature. Has a long nose. If you rub his nose can make your wish come
true.) famous for skiing. Olympics. 5
slopes.
We line up for the "rope way", a cable car to
the top. There the view is spectacular and sitting grandly on the bay below is
the Diamond Princess. My ploy, to volunteer to take photos for others, works to
get us a couple of photos with the view and with long-nosed Tengo. The visit to
the chipmunk cage, cute critters that they are, is not the highlight of this
mountain visit though walls crammed with Tengos in the museum is pleasantly
weird. 
The place is, I suppose unsurprisingly, so different
from what we are accustomed to in domiciles with the exception of one room
which is done up in Victoriana--a bemusement of the super rich and, I opine, a
forerunner of the easy co-option of western style in the Japan we've seen so
far. Otherwise, the focus is on beautifully designed wood features, some
displaying burled grains, some highly lacquered, mats and screens and those
fancy porcelain bathroom features. Views of a lovely courtyard garden
outfitted with waterfall, pond and layers of large rocks. And the place is
privately owned so someone is making a lot of money.
Keiko lets us off for an hour and a half to shop on the
main thoroughfare. Though we don't buy anything (there are no snow globes to be
found though I'm tempted buy the glass music box that plays "Let It Be . .
. Seeking words of wisdom, let it be"-- but Bob says he just found, while
clearing out our kitchen for the workmen to destroy, a little inlaid wood music
box we bought ["Come Back To Sorrento"] in Sorrento 22 years ago and
that had been hiding almost as many years with all our other impulse travel
purchases). But the stroll yields free samples of chocolate and cake, viewings
of pretty glass items, food wares including a giant crab who looks like he's
trying to escape his tank and for whom we feel sorry (T. S. Elliots's "I should have been
a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas" comes
to mind). We enjoy ourselves.
As to the show, though Bob proclaims he deigns to see
the dance couple do their routines for me, the dance guy, he agrees that they are
brilliant. They are beautiful and they are amazing in their professionalism and
skill, the male, in English and Japanese (he's Polish no less), between numbers
narrates a tale of tempestuous love which they interpret through their
precisely choreographed ballroom dance.
It's frighteningly crowded, at least the indoor market we
enter. We don't see any truly exotic fish like those in tanks we saw in China
and Thailand. Some people seem to be eating
what looks like urchins and don't seem to be bothered by it. Our former
dinner neighbors pass by. She's excited about eating fresh scallops. (She
always sounds excited.) I say Bob doesn't like fish. He says "it's not
fish, it's scallops."
And what we won't see is the view from the ropeway. We
know we won't Our long trip up the mountain (5000 years ago an island--for our
purposes it would have been better if it were--is not for naught. So what if
there is no visibility. Bob is excited to find chocolate covered potato chips
in the shop. And we even get to visit the toilet which is almost fun because in
Japan they are so damn clean.
Dresser is a cabaret. For $3 I get a Bailey's creme in a
glass and get to keep the glass. A
chocolate lovers dessert. Incredible. It achieves sublimity and I Want to cry.
Bob loves his sugar free coconut cake.
News. Just learned emperor will resign in a few years.
The museum of the illuminated floats is fascinating,
these representing historical or mythical events. Paraded in a festival
featuring marchers jumping exuberantly.
Funny Asian Assistant chef makes Caesar salad. The bit is
that he adds too much of every ingredient to the amused disapproval of the
executive chef.
Dance captain/production manager is from Namibia.
ATRIUM SHOW
Escargots, lovely, buttery luxe; but I ruin my
beautiful silky gray shirt with butter stains--adding to my theory that for
every plus there's a minus; tomato soup, two lobster tails thank you.
After the usual end of cruise (segment) handkerchief
waving baked-Alaska dance we have a chocolate concoction which is to die.
"Warden for my last meal . . . " And we say goodbye to the charming
Asian couple from San Francisco (having learned that they have an older son of
54). Posing for their obligatory table photo, "She's not my wife."
(That prompts us to tell our wine bar story of incognito couples. Gotta
shamelessly capitalize on a life richly lived.
And then we discover the Marine Tower, an Eifel Tower
construction looming over the cityscape. Throwing my agoraphobia caution aside,
we buy senior tickets (650 yen requiring id) and ride the elevator to the
"2nd floor" high above the city and offering pano views.A beautiful
Japanese woman with her two beautiful children, seeing us trying to take a
selfie offers--in fluent Japanese--to take our picture. She does and though the
view can't be seen in the result, it's a sweet gesture. 
Watching an in cabin movie PITCH PERFECT about a rivalry
between male and female acapella groups at a university, starring actors,
faithful to the current mode, who are fifteen years too old for their roles.
But at least it's consistent--scores of thirty something freshmen acting out the script fantasies of fifty-somethings. Nevertheless I watch--Bob is too classy to do so--and am annoyed when the safety drill piped over the loudspeaker interrupts the mediocre but watchable flow. "Step off do not jump" in the event you must enter the water, the loudspeaker warns.
Then retreat to the interior and watch DEADPOOL. An
inevitable superhero anti-superhero flick anticipating mega-buck sequels with
the gorgeously bodied Ryan Reynolds (great naked ass shots award goes to) doing
his best Robert Downey Junior imitation. Terrifically choreographed scenes of
combat and violence clothed in snarky dialogue especially from the anti-hero
superhero breaking the fourth wall when he's not seeking true love--and too
clever by half.
But the headline on TV today is shooting three more cops,
this time Baton Rouge, LA. We're as far away as we can be today but it's still
with us, present, the unrest outside our bubble and add the possibly
unprecedented debacle of the Trump Republican convention about to begin.
Shintoism= nature
worship.
Of tea ceremony. 2 groups. 3 totami mat rooms. Ten mats
per room. Famous dry garden--no water--original 400 years ago. We'll see how to
make powdered tea. 500 years ago introduced for medicinal purposes. Then For
entertainment, meditation. For the samurai used for discussion.
In the horizon court I try udon noodles. It's delicious
as are the mussels in tomato sauce. And everything else I see that I can barely
fit on my plate. Bob loves a breaded cauliflower with hot melted cheese on the
side. A waitress upsells us (not tough) a bottle of Robert Mondavi cab
"for the room". (Did she have to choose the Reserve?)
But a highlight of the cruise is off our balcony on the
dock. Bob calls "Reuel Reuel" and sitting there must be half the town
and the other half is performing precision dances athletically and wonderfully
in costume in groups (my theory is that this is emblematic of Japanese group
culture and traditional reliance on convention). They really Like us it would
seem. They put on a great show, wave us goodbye, play Ald Lang Zein and set off
fireworks (at first scaring these skittish Americans until we realize it's all
in fun).
After party dinner with server Raymond and Our neighbor's
to my left the Japanese mother and daughter. She's comparatively young and
looking fabulous. What's their story?
We're early in the Princess Theatre for the production
show, Piano Man. We debate whether we've seen it before. I think we'll know as
soon as we've seen it. Then again, probably not. We hear a woman behind us
talking about seeing this show with another cast, the projections on a skirt
and chandeliers, and how this cast will "rock it". To be seen. Later to discover that she's the
mother of one of the dancers.
Snacks (deep fried sweet potatoes with sugar and
biscuits--supposedly specialties of Kochi) and water on our seats and guessing
whether our guide looks like she speaks good English.
Earthen ware vessels clue to early cultures. The cave is Narrow (Oy).
Of 4km 1 is open to public. Slippery and low (Oy.)
Yosakoi Festival in August. Dancer holds a castanet and
dances. Formerly used to scare birds away from the family fields.
At sunrise I am out on the balcony sea-gazing as we float by chiaroscuro island hills.
We enter the Nagasaki harbor to the strains of "Green Green Grass of Home". Beautiful harbor. Layers of green hills but like all the harbors we've seen, it's natural splendor somewhat besmirched by the industrial sprawl at the base of the hills rising from the shore.
Anyway were privileged to find another aspect to Nagasaki
this time, the church is fascinating and the story of discrimination of
Christians on Japan is underscored.
We open up the dining room at 7 AM. Soon the hungry
masses yearning to be fed stream in. And I begin my day of doubtless bad
choices starting with a cherry Danish. Bob's chocolate croissant is better as
probably will be his eggs and sausage to my bagel and lox. On the other hand if
he'd ordered bagel and lox I would have preferred the eggs. Lets just call it a
balanced co-existence.
The markets are extraordinary. Stalls stretching for long
blocks. Apparently three different streets. Then the fascinating fish market.
We pass by the little fish restaurants with people beckoning us in.
Breakfast--I have sunny side up--a good choice--and meats
and a croissant and . . . All the while I am thinking how I will diet when I
get back.
Maybe more Zumba is the answer. So here I am first one
1/2 an hour early in "my space" somewhat to the consternation of the
front row ladies club which arrives ten minutes later. But the pre-Zumba show
is important, music videos that promote those of us who can't resist to shake
and roll rhythmically. (I'm afraid I'm
"rattling" a bit too much these days when it comes to movement
challenges.) It's Chris today, one of
Princess' best Zumba instructors.
We say that we're the only gay couple here among these
rich people, women with big flashy diamonds--love it. But in Donald Trumps
LGBT world "we're what's happening" notes Bob. As we watch an elderly Asian couple Doing wonderful steps, I tell Bob that we must
perfect a routine.
My escargots are wonderful drenched in butter. (It's
gonna be one of those evenings.) and I'm full already. My two (not one but two)
lobster tails are on the way after my cream of tomato soup (nice of
course--they do salads well). Bob remembers that I loved it last time--I'll have
to check the blog; Bob's noodles in rice paper doesn't excite him. He's got a
salad coming. "They don't do salads well." though he's not strong in
defense of that position; and then his
tortellini in Marsalla sauce main (pronounces it "ridiculously
good"). OMG then a second lobster tail arrives. I can't refuse. It would
be impolite. Bob however refuses to help out.
Dessert. Norman Love's newest chocolate Journey. Sublime!!. And I've overeaten.
Since salmon seems to be the fish in today's Japanese breakfast set, I think I'll have it.
We're both being unconventional this
morning so Bob is having pancakes. Our jolly waiter understands I may need
silverware to supplement my chopsticks (I don't.) I ask him to describe the
ingredients. Miso soup with seaweed, pickled yellow radish, a sort of plum
thing, something made with wine (which explains why I like it), a tofu, a sticky rice, the usual unusual suspects.
Good choice.
Continuing doing nice things for myself (Bob doesn't want
to share though offered; he'll get to watch more political shenanigans.) I sign
up for an Izumi Bath at 1:15 and a Swedish massage at three.
At the red warehouse we find a lovely glassware store and
buy--it's my Birthday--tiny fake food bowls for our hall niche of foreign
thingies. At one of the mall buildings off the bay we bump into Dave and Ridge, our New Zealand buddies, who are on a tour that includes lunch.
American jazz playing on loudspeakers as we view the bay.
Pass the morning market (where we've visited last time in Hakodate) on our way
back to the shuttle. Bob notes that should we come back (not bloody likely?)
it's only a walk from the shuttle (train station) to the downtown shopping
district. So that's free advice for any blog reader.
Well I'm treated like royalty (a prince on the Princess)
at the Japanese baths. Since I'm the only one there I seem to have my own
personal attendant who gives me slippers and points out the amenities, the
jacuzzi pools, the hot pools, citrus steam room, sauna, a wonderful
thelasotherapy outdoor pool which I try twice because it soothes my neck (take
a cold shower after each event). And all these purifying blandishments
overlooking the city of Hakodate and its view of Mt. Hakodate shrouded in mist
(though today the cable (rope) cars are taking hapless tourists up).
It's time to ascend to the specialty steak house for my
b'day dinner. (We've got a credit for dinner and for wine; we'll have the 2012
Simi Valley Alexander cab thank you). I'll have the black tiger prawn and
papaya salpicon. (It works.) The shrimp
and pancetta bisque soup (really good) and the 10 ounce filet mignon (not
brilliant.) with baked potato. For
dessert their Love creation Milk Chocolate and Peanut Butter Bar with Honey
Roasted Peanuts.
Bob says that my snores during the Folkloric concert were sufficiently subdued so that he did not need to poke me.
"I'm your server Emerson along with mumble
mumble." 
While Bob packs I get to soak and broil in the Japanese
sauna (Soo good for a guys neck) where today there are other people even Japanese children.
Then there's a magilla with internet where we need to get
Bob's boarding pass on his computer. The nice young man figures it out though
we arrive late to dinner--without consequence as it turns out. We're not turned
away.
Just a glass of wine each. I'll have the seafood appetizer Bob Kapanede eggplant.
We both have salads and strip steak. Soundtrack playing the Days of
Wine and Roses--how fitting. I guess inevitable since we've been treated to
popular favorites from the 40's and 50's consistently. Great vocalists of the
era. There's Ella Fitzgerald. Comfort for the older cohort.Our Japanese
neighbors greet us warmly. Too bad we can't relate because of language and
we are intrigued by the fashionable mother and daughter. They must have a
steamer trunk. "For all we know we may never meet again" playing now.
That's a certainty.
We get our usual good 3rd row center seats in the
Princess Theatre despite being later than usual to claim them. The show which
we apparently saw on the last night of the first segment (they have a certain
indistinguishability) bothers me--though Bob seems to like it-is it that I
finally have indigestion from all the food I've consumed or is it that the
singers are not up to the occasional arias they are required to sing. The
blonde in particular has trouble with her tones and arias are not the natural
metier of the black singer who has been otherwise quite good.
Bob's put the
departure items together superbly and we're on our way to stop and go, stop and
go at others' beck and call all the long day.
It's a real puddle-jumper I think we used to call them,
our plane to San Diego. The Inflight magazine says it goes about 500 miles per
hour. Looks like it holds about 48 passengers. No wonder there were waiting
lists for flights throughout the day. One crusty, mature flight attendant. Bob
lets me take the window so I can photograph land and sea before and after we've
risen above the clouds. (We're mostly below with little cloud puffs above the
sea as we approach San Diego.)
And then to our condo with its kitchen in a state of
chaos—wooden template counters. No sink. No stove. No oven. No anything. Plastic
wrap at doorways. Cardboard on the floors. Dust. Piles of things. Were we away?
GRAND JAPAN
WEDNESDAY JULY 5.
Traveling is a pain in the ass. I know. I know it's
supposed to be one of the great rewards of getting old, of having time and
occasional cash. "And we've just begun" adds Bob, ever ready to board
the train to Pessimism Junction. Poor guy. I actually feel guilty (my
birthright after all). Not only did the task of packing our capacious and heavy
luggage fall to him but so did most of the prepping work for our kitchen
remodel that will presumably occur while we're away, such as removing all the
accumulations of the past 40-some years from those shelves and cabinets about
to be coddled or destroyed. I've only the desk work, in charge of
"arrangements". And even these I seem to have bungled, adding to my
husband's angst. Example: I wake Bob at 3 AM (I've been up since 2) only to
subject him to the torture of thinking we will never get to the airport in time
for our 6:15 AM flight. I've apparently summoned an Uber driver who expects to
take us to Mexico inasmuch as I inadvertently pressed the "Passport"
button. He advises we cancel him in favor of a domestic driver with the
suspicious name (nom du plume?) of Ayn Rand. No doubt a follower of her
philosophy as exemplified by his carefully placed tip jar.
Did I also screw up, asking Bob to pack olives in our
luggage. Are they a special delicacy for
Japanese bomb sniffing dogs? And reserving two separate round trips San
Diego-San Francisco will require separate trips to the baggage carousels. That
will doubtless bump his bippy too.
Only points I'm getting are for reserving exit row seats.
But can't collect them until we are comfortably seated without having to
manually ply open the exit door for fast escape.
But an upper wafts up from the anxious gloom. Just
receive email from Pittsburg Players. My play OKAY NOW "got very high
marks", was in top 30 selected out of over 250 though none of the
directors chose to direct it--probably because it requires two aging characters
who speak with Yiddish accents, it's characters age 20 years, one of whom is
celebrating a 100th birthday. As a director I'd probably pass on that challenge
too. It did get audience award as "best drama" at the First Stage
Festival in LA so that will have to suffice for now. The readers' comments here
are particularly pleasing: " And of
the variety of genres I've been attempting, I am encouraged to pursue realistic
family dramas.
Aboard we are luxuriating in those famous seats and gloating at
having more leg room than business class for thousands of bucks less. We will
endure all the exit row "regurations" for this.
Oh look the pretty flight assistants have changed their
frocks from sort of gray business suits to frilly pink or blue apron dresses.
Must be getting ready to serve that no-picnic picnic.
Thank goodness red wine and a host of movie choices on
the pull up tv. Hardly time to read the books we bought in SFO terminal, me a
Michael Chabon I don’t think I’ve read and Bob The Circle by Dave Eggers.
Lunch Bob's goulash; he enjoys; me prawn and vegetable
tempura with all kinds of sides and sauces.
It's fantastic. If served on proper cutlery it probably would be gourmet
standard. Topped off with cucumber and dill cheese and Hagen Dazs vanilla ice
cream, always a treat.
BBC MUSIC AWARDS. All these British
"superstars" who I've never heard of--Ellie Goulding?
I’m not that absolutely up to the minute on U.S.
Superstars either. These are as young and as good. Big orchestra.
Stereophonics?
Boxier? Little Mix (girl band)? Omi? Changed my mind. Not
as good. James Bay. Think I've heard of him.
The girls have another change. Separates.
And I switch to movies.
ANOMALISA. Been wanting to see this. A very peculiar
Charlie Kaufman (of course) film. Deeply moving and fascinating. Animated with
puppets. Lonely alienated middle aged man overwhelmed by the banality of his
life finds love, however briefly, with a woman with an inferiority complex. Has
a nervous breakdown as he delivers a speech filled with banalities punctuated
by his cries of existential despair on customer service. Brilliant.
And my iPhone is powering down and I don't have a
Japanese wall plug.
PRIMAL FEAR
Edward Norton, Richard Gere.
THURSDAY JULY 7.
Well Japan is 16 hours ahead so it's now evening of the
day after our departure.
We arrive at the airport and with my trusty Japanese I
Essentials cheat sheet supplied by Barbara our cruise agent, I shout hello
"koh-née-Chee-wah" and thank you
"ah-ri-gah-to" at all and sundry. That adds to my previous
Japanese linguistic skills ("Sayonara) by 200%. After my trip to the
airport men's I inform Bob that the J's are much better at things than we are.
(The toilets come equipped with a veritable dashboard of buttons and lights,
the dryers virtually kidnap your hands until they are prune fingers.) It is
clear I will share such outrageous generalizations with him (and you dear
reader) because this is after all only a 17 day cruise around the country and
therefore promotes only abbreviated understanding of the culture. Examples: They
like Americans (Caucasians) because they don't recoil at the sight of us. A
cheerful people. How could such pretty people have been our enemies, etc.
We're now nestled in our small room at the MERCURE NARITA
so-called airport hotel. I've taken a shower and washed away some of the
staleness of a long journey to this the land of the rising sun--we've yet to
experience that phenomenon. Bob follows my lead.
Perhaps my hotel choice wasn't the wisest--another
demerit. I chose because it was inexpensive, had high ratings, and I
thought lay very close to the
airport--they lied. Since we'd have to wait an hour for their shuttle bus, we
take a cab and almost a half hour later and $30 poorer we're there.
"Modest" is the word. No English channels on the tv. But it's a fast
overnight. We do a little exploration of the town--we're the only Caucasians
around--crowds of workers coming home. There's a bus station and a train
station. It's kind of nice being in an untouristy locale. A Lawson's--their
version of 7/11--offers us $2 sandwiches and a $10 screw top bottle of wine,
screw top because our bottle opener is in our luggage which we checked at the
terminal as is our vodka, hence wine. The cashier chatters away in Japanese it
not occurring to him that we might not understand--it doesn't matter. He's charming.
Turns out the ham and cheese croissants are quite good and the plonk hits the
spot. We're clean robed in the supplied robes and comfortable as we discuss our
upcoming trip schedules, Canada to Florida; Israel/Jordan, NYC; Australia, NZ,
South Pacific; Puerto Vallarta; Europe on the Rhine;Panama Canal/Miami,
etc. So inured are we to staring at a tv
that Bob subjects us to
FRIDAY JULY 8.
Fitful sleep on comfortable beds yields nevertheless
enough rest after our long journey and we are up at 5, days later than our
departure thanks to the earth rotating as it will (or some such explanation for
time zones).
I draw the curtains and its light out but no famous
rising sun. Ever sensible Bob reminds me that anomaly is because our room is
facing west not east.
The tv buzzes with highly animated skinny Japanese people.
Their energy seems remarkable. But BBC now being only in translation this
morning a Tai Chi program affords opportunity for me to stretch and contort
(within certain personal physical limitations). It's a graceful way to begin
the morning, one I thought was confined to Chinese custom. And they even
provide an additional instructor impersonating a disabled person--thank God.
Now I'm glad we decided to take this overnight hotel
hiatus. We are refreshed and ready for the 7 am bus and there are free things
to purloin like packaged toiletries, a
packet of green tea (yes, in room tea and coffee was a bracing beginning) and a
"do not disturb " sign. Don't be blameful dear reader. Tourism has
its tawdry obligations.
The bus fills up with a combo of Japanese tour groups,
business types, and traveler's of mixed races. We'll see if it takes the
promised half hour. The roadways are decidedly less wide than ours though the
bus manages with grace not surprising for this our elderly driver who
gracefully vaults over the luggage he has piled at the door.
"Could be anywhere" B says as we pass car
dealerships, monolithic buildings containing unknowable businesses displaying
inscrutable signs, and an occasional patch of overgrown greenery, amazing,
unsubtle, a tribute to rain.
Then to find our meeting place for the transfer to
Yokihama.(These notes will be extremely valuable if ever we should do this
again [not]) after purchasing a special Japanese gizmo stapler for our Princess
luggage tags. Collecting our luggage -arigato- in preparation for the stapling
ritual (see photo). Life is a collection of all delights--in contradiction to a
book of the sayings of Buddha asserting life is a series of misfortunes, get
used to it, that I discovered at the hotel and which Bob would not allow me to
steal. "But the Gideon's let you take their bibles!"
As we wait for our ride, we ruminate on a topic dear to a
traveler's heart, sleeplessness. Bob offers our trainer Rocco's remedy, motion
sickness pills. We talk of how bad ambien is for me, how it was a miracle I,
dazed and tripping, got through London customs after an ambien and vodka flight
years ago, how I then fell into a Mayfair curb and . . . other medicated
disasters.
Bob ignores my yammerings, watchful and anxious that our
trip will fall apart at any minute. He says of this first assemblage, "I
don't see anyone who looks conspicuously gay yet." I point to my loud
shirt and colorful watch. "Except for you and you just look cheap."
Well I Nevvah!
Looks like it's a new bus, only excuse for its being
late. We rush to the front of the line. We've had experience competing with the
Japanese (and those Russian Jews from Brooklyn) for pride of place on cruises.
"Rev up your engines and sharpen your elbows." 10:30 and we're off.
At hour and fifteen singing Yokahama! to the tune of
Oklahoma! wonder if this bridge we're crossing will ever end. Could that be our
ship in the distance? Is this Osanbashi pier? Hour and half!
As usual after dropping off our stuff in the very
familiar stateroom, we are among the first in the International dining room for
lunch. The burning question is will we be allowed to sit by ourselves in the
dining rooms or spoil our Joy with the nasty intrusion of others into our happily
hermetic lives. For now we do sit alone at a huge empty table sequestered and
secluded into a corner. Oh however brief joy. A glass of chard. Salad
"tastes like salad, not as tart as it sometimes can be", rigatoni
(quite nice in a creamy sauce) and the fruit tartlet for Bob. R, it's butternut
squash soup (good if pleasantly un dynamic ), mixed grill (a palpable hit!
Especially the banger, those al dente string beans) fruit tartlett--the Princess
recommended meal. Our very pleasant Russian waitress tells us there are tables
for two in the Savoy Room, our assigned evening restaurant. We'll see!
Bob unpacks that which he packed. Vodka, olives, and the supplied hors deuves
nestle in the mini-fridge awaiting our steward Ronald's glasses of champagne.
The background news alas is of multiple cop shootings in Dallas. We need to
hear jazz instead. The world is too much with us to quote Hamlet. Until it is
no more, I add.
The rituals organized and not ensue: safety drill no
longer holds its fresh allure and seems longer than before, likely because it's
also delivered in Japanese. Practice works though. We don our vests with aplomb
and are ready for spontaneous escapes.
Then the other ritual not part of The schedule, visits to
the young internet guys to crawl our weary ways through the arduous alleys of
Internet land. We buy 200 minutes
 |
| JAY, CANADIAN SIGN LANGUAGE INTERPRETER |
Dinner at the Savoy in our assigned seating--like
regimented schoolboys.
It's a beautiful dining space which we vaguely remember
from 10 years ago when we were on the Diamond's inaugural voyage. We are seated
next to an elderly Asian couple with whom we will not bond to put it
delicately.
Porcini mushroom soup (of course so fine), the prime
rib--a first night necessity--which Bob declares "quite good
actually".
Note gay couple on other side of our neighbors for whom I
feel sorry since they are gay-sandwiched in. They'll probably ask to be
relocated (they have a conversation about it with Raymond our waiter). I don't
think I like assigned seating.
Despite having had a nap earlier we're tired, the
violinist entertainer holds insufficient allure as an idea and so to bed.
SATURDAY JULY 9
The background, as the TV refuses not to remind us, is
the killing of 5 cops in Dallas by a black man with way too much amo fed up
with senseless killing of black men by cops and unimpressed with the peaceful
protests of his brethren.
I need personal peace. It's 5 am after a night of ups and
downs and I lie on our balcony--it's warm out--and read Chelsea Handler's
"Uganda Be Kidding Me". It's howl out loud hilarious, perfect
antidote to the news, and I indeed howl with laughter and hope I'm not disturbing
anyone.
We take our chances at breakfast and are seated at a
table for six and soon are joined by two couples, one from Australia, the other
Americans formerly Dutch and soon we are having a lively discussion about
cultural differences and immigration and the consequences of guns. I have
prunes for one affliction, yup, and a single omelette for the other--my increasing
fatness.
We watch the rain on our balcony before going for a walk.
Tour the Japanese Baths-$15 for 90 minutes.
Now it's the Grapevine Tasting in the lovely Pacific Moon
dining room. Just need to zone out during the Japanese translation.
 |
| READY, SET . . . WINE |
Next an Australian Dealen Estate Chardonnay. (Very barnyard)
Now we get to malelactic fermentation and a red--Vall Llach Embruix.
A new experience; he asks us to peel a grape (very May
West) and taste the inside for salivating potential, the outside for drying
quality.
We talk of buying that wine. No says Bob our limit is no more than $30
maybe $32. I say he'se saving it for the microwave we're installing in the new kitchen. He promises to make wonderful
things on our new microwave.
It's getting louder around us. People are becoming more merry with
each sip.
Bob asks of the translator why is that woman quacking at
me? Not at you I reply. At everyone. We seem to think this is funny. The wine
is having its effect.
I like the $82 South Australian cab. Then remember, that's our convection oven!
We like the late harvest Sauvignon blanc. A dessert wine.
Always surprised that I do.
Lunch in the International. Able to snag a table by
ourselves nicely secluded. I've a carpaccio salad has another name--wonderful.
And a salmon salad main. Bob loves his tataglioa alla verde= free noodles and
tomato sauce. He really likes it.
What a Dancy place. No doubt in deference to the Japanese, they've lined up one dance class after another. I catch the tale end of a Latin class of some sort lead by a rather nelly Latin guy, sort of an Hispanic version of Robin Williams doing "Fosse Fossee" in La Cage Au Foux.
So here I sit on the balcony--oops drizzle--after having
napped for an hour and a half, testament to my lousy sleeping regimen here this
far.
We admit of the
advantages of fixed seating. We just trot in and find our table sans lines and
rigamarole. We're pleased with ourselves. Bob says we're all dressed up with no
where to go. I say we're going to the production show. The theatre. What part
of the theatre? The mezzanine I say. Our mezzanines have gotten bigger. Alas.
Reality.
To that, the Asian neighbor couple we thought were
decamping turn up.
Our din din. Crabmeat Quiche for starters. That Bob likes
his says something. My broiled shrimp with accompaniments is quite nicely
sauced, impressive, but not huge. Bob's medallion of beef "good but not
brilliant". Coinciding with recollections of medallions past.
Since the desserts sound so fab, we share. Bananas Foster
and chocolate. With ice cream which is delish as is the chocolate. The bananas
good not great.
And then our neighbor speaks to us. The silence has been
broken.They're from San Mateo. Traveled this route a lot. Love the fish. And
Kobe steak in Kobe. Of course he believes so many homeless are young people who
don't want to work. After that Bob, who was vice chair of the San Diego Housing
Commission, and I have an extensive discussion about homelessness in San Diego,
the difficulty in providing sufficient beds and social work follow-through. I nurture the hope that our newly chatty neighbor
is listening.
We're seated close and centrally for the 9:45 production
show
As we sail into Kushiro harbor, it's warm out but
overcast though the sun is trying to piece through. 
A cheerful smiling lady brings us our breakfast of juice,
egg mcmuffin, orange slices, tea and coffee.
Ah the sun is winning.
And I discover the glories of the Japanese toilet. Press
the buttons and bliss. So we R&B must save our pennies and add this amenity
to our new bathrooms in deference to the wellbeing and happiness of our
precious derrières. Next year in Jerusalem!
 |
| WHO KNEW? |
Natural wonders of Kushiro tour. Our older guy guide is
speaking English. That's a good thing. Though not very well. Not a good thing.
We can imagine not so long ago nothing was written in English; now all signs are
bilinguals. Underneath all those beautiful pictograms our alpha now resides.
Homer-San (b. 1945) is our guide. Says we'll have nice
weather. Pop 174,000. 4th largest city in Akaido. Historically a fishing city,
paper mills because of trees. Now import wood chuck. Import coal from Australia
and China. Can't grow rice.
Can't catch cranes now. Protected. 1500 cranes now in
wetlands can be seen. Very territorial. Wings clipped.
Dance on snow to find mates. One or two eggs hatch. One
year later forced to leave parents. Summer season feed fish then in winter
corn.
Inhabited 17th c. To fish. Summer - squid. Russia decided
not to admit Japanese fish boats. Cold water brings plankton for fish to eat.
6000 wild bears--eat acorns, 5000 deer. Very foggy in
Japan.'
We arrive at the crane park about a half hour later. Homer
translates. Founded 1952 with 33 cranes.
Now 1500. We're going to see a chick that was hatched in May. Can't tell gender by voice; eat fish grain and worms. Live 20-30 years, monogamous.
I like the way they walk. If you had a walk like that you'd have respect. These in captivity live longer than those in the wild but I guess it's a trade off. No snow globes in the gift shop but there's a little plastic solar-operated bobbing owl that Bob is far less enthusiastic about than I for our great room.
On the bus Bob chats with a man from North Carolina who
plays a lot of golf. One virtue of these travels is getting a sense of other
people.
The more Homer talks about our impending walk the less
desirable it seems.
Migrating birds rest in the wetlands here on way from
Siberia and have babies.
Wetlands from 10000 year ago when ice melted.
Gun control strict in Japan. After 10 years of owning a
handgun can have a rifle. Fewer hunters = more deer.
So now we're let loose to walk for an hour along a
Boardwalk. It is like walking in the Amazonian rainforests except that you can
hear the highway and it's not muddy and there's no canopy of trees. Actually
the car sounds are soon replaced by bird chirpings and it is pleasantly forest-cool.
We walk 2 1/2 km. (Whatever that is). And there it is the observatory, quite a
building.
Japanese average Income is $40,000. Pension 1/2. 13% from
income for social security. 13% from employer. Pay 30% of health care until 70.
Ambulance--free. Younger generation is decreasing. average # of Children 1.6. Needs to be
3 to sustain senior citizens. No immigration permitted so can't increase
Population.
He had an arranged marriage. Not now. He thinks
relationships not as good now.
Compulsory education is 9 years.
 |
| YOU LOOKIN' AT ME? |
They are having elections now. Results will be announced
tonight.
Have markers to show height above sea level so if there's an earthquake and sunami, people can know if they need to evacuate to higher ground.
We're back by noon and ready to do our duty by going
through the leave Japan-enter-Russia immigration routine. Having surrendered
our passports we find succor in slices of marguerita and pepperoni pizza plus
bud light at the pool,
ZUMBA At Neptune pool outdoors. Bob will get to watch for
one number and we agree that Chris the clearly gay Zumba instructor is fabulous,
more so even than the other instructor, constantly smiling bilingual deputy
cruise manager lady. I get to chit chat with the early front row ladies though
we're not clear where the front row is inasmuch as the tables and chairs have
been cleared. We discover that the two will be demonstrating their surprisingly
sprightly steps on a balcony above us. Difficulty level high for a cruise ship.
Enjoyable even though I'm clearly not at my full game, gimpy arm and all.
BATH I'm so exhausted/-need more sleep--that it takes a
while to haul myself to the shower, which soon converts to a bath, from my bed
of rest.
MARTINIS--ding ding cocktail time. Bring contraband vodka . Add ice, an olive and stir. Unorthodox but it works.
MOVIE. Remembering Jane with Ann Hathaway and every major
British actor. Offered on our two new 42" stateroom tv's. We'll watch one
thank you. And I of course doze off. Bob enjoys the movie. Poor moi--can't bestir myself to dinner--the
responsibility of being served in a public setting looming too dangerously
ahead. So Bob suggests we attend the fully packed 8 pm show instead. It's a
singer, Claude something, Bob remembers from a previous cruise. French
Canadian. Bob likes his voice but finds his slick moves off putting. I keep
wondering if he's gay. Gotta shed this obsession with propensity-guessing which
here I also exercise on 3 attractive thirty somethings seated in front of us 2
men one woman taking selfies and chattering intensely in an Undisclosed
language.
Back to the cabin, inevitable first room service
selection--club sandwiches and bottle of wine --arrives in minutes just as
we've dialed in the Meryl Streep Mama Mia movie which I will of course fall
asleep to--well in advance of that big fat Greek wedding scene and the
revelation that one of Streep's suitors is gay.
MONDAY JULY 11. SHIRETOKO PENINSULA.
The news is still bloated with mourning over police
shootings on both sides. A lot of talk about having intelligent national
discussions and putting race-based violence behind us. Lots of luck. I've got
to get ready for breakfast.
Of breakfast, trying to find the International Dining
Room. Like looking for the secret bunkers of WW2. Ordering prunes is flashing a
billboard sign--here sits a -- um --bowel affliction. As I chew, resolve to write my mother play on
the cruise encouraged as I am by the reception to mother play #1, "Okay Now".
R bagels and salmon. Bob's spare-looking ham and egg
omelette.
Zumba and boy is it . . . Chris gives good show and fast
paced action. I just love his big queeny gestures. Add his session to the
fifteen minutes of music before class that I improv to and it's one hell of a
workout. Plus I stay on for a class in Brazillian Dance that "my twin
Chris" [Chris again] leads. Object is to perform it for the passengers on the last night. I probably won't show but no harm in rehearsing.
Back upstairs and I'm sufficiently exhausted to lie comatose on my
bed. Bob puts a bathrobe over me. I lie there for an hour until I have enough
energy to take a shower and then try to take a bath--it's a real struggle to
descend into the tub. How will I manage the jacuzzi tub "we're"
planning to install in my bathroom as part of the stage 3 reno of our condo.
Safety bars everywhere please. Cage me in like a wounded animal. Sort of am
one.
Lunch is a debacle. It becomes clear that even our
compromise with the International dining room door people to sit with just one
other couple won't work so we decide to try the buffet line upstairs--always a
mistake because there's just too much food and as Bob reminds me the
Cossacks are coming--I just hope they
don't take fat people. We can't find a table inside and settle on one outside
in the cold by the pool.
Bob declares he will not endure fixed dining on this ship
which is our vessel (or her sister the Emerald) to the South Pacific next
April.
This means it's high time to determine with the future
cruise director if this is so. She informs us that only the Japan
itineraries are fixed dining because
Japanese waiters who speak that language are assigned to the Japanese
passengers. I can imagine the first non-fixed dining Japan cruise being a total
bust because Princess refuses to use pictogram menus and the poor Japanese
order sushi and get hamburgers.
To make up for our unsatisfactory luncheon experience we
plop down into a Crooners bar table and have a couple of chards for Bob and
adventurously a couple of sugar-rich cookies worth of Key Lime martinis (tastes
great) for moi. Love the little shakers pouring the precious liquid into the
expectant martini glass.
Ah there's our young gay couple of the other night. Dave
and Jay. Though Jay is preoccupied with some team game in the atrium
below, Dave comes over--looking quite
fetching in tight-fittings showing his rather large gym body--oops this is a
travel narrative not a . . . We chat amiably. Dave looming rather large over
us, we invite him to sit and he does. We wonder if Jay is avoiding us but it
doesn't matter. Jay seems to be the restless type and we wonder about their
relationship though it's been 13 years and they were probably 13 (or 23) when
they met. After a while they go off to Wheelhouse Lounge for genuine happy hour
specials (at 3pm?).
SHIRETOKO Peninsula. We're late passing through. Bob
thinks it's because of the 4 people who neglected to hand in their passports to
the Russkies --or were they Japanese--yesterday.
It's supposed to be about a 2 hour cruise-by but it is
terribly foggy out. I'm not optimistic about our chances of seeing much. We're
told it will take about a half hour before we get to Cape Shiritoku where the
action supposedly is. So back to reclining and reading Chelsea Handler.
We're exhorted to look "really really hard" for
the peninsula. The captain tells us it's on the port side and we're not allowed
to get close. Nevertheless we rush to the upper deck to try our luck as we see
folks climbing back down to their rooms as not a a good sign. All we can make
out is a vague promontory snaking into the water shrouded in fog, a [Irish]
monster. It's also irritatingly cold. "You've destroyed another world
heritage site" says Bob referring to some of our site misadventures.
"This one's not my fault," I reply. Cue to return to our cabin? And
Listen to the bilingual narrative about this great thing we can't see either
upstairs or on our in room tv. Besides its now cocktail hour (ok we got a lead
on it earlier) and I say Bob needs a martini to warm him up (projecting as
usual). We're told we will see dolphins however on the port side but we're
starboard so this is pretty much a bust. If Mt.Fuji is similarly shrouded in a
few days, we're totally screwed. Doesn't the God of weather understand we've
paid a fortune for good visibility? (I'm sort of kidding because I always need
to remind myself how much I'm grateful to be a privileged guy with a large
capacity to whine, not to mention one who is alive.)
The Brit captain is on. He says "well we gave it our
best shot. You've seen-rather we passed by--the peninsula. So we'll call it to
an end and head for Korsakov."
Dinner at The Savoy. Love saying that. My spaghetti and
meatballs appetizer is wonderful. Bob's prosciutto con meloni very good. We
both have the minestrone (magnificent." and the scallopini. (We both like.
Bob, "Tender. Good sauce.") my tirimasou is fabulous.
Best part of the dinner is chatting with our neighbors.
Sharing experiences. They are originally from Hawaii. We think they are very
rich though, like us, they talk of bargain hunting. Nevertheless the jewels she
wears this evening include huge jade pieces and a diamond ring as big as
Brooklyn.
TUESDAY JULY 12.
We're 2 hours ahead today. So Bob having dreamt that he's
to perform as a vocal soloist in Beethoven's Ninth and is only a "little
anxious" is up at 7. (That I had planned to enter the Voice of the Sea
contest--only to discover it's now pop star of the seas, no thank you, and have
been wearing a Beethoven t-shirt for two days now--hmm.) He reminds me that we
will need to board a tender to Korsakov this morning. "Of Course
akov!" I reply. (I've got my joke phrase for today.)
I pull aside the curtain and lo and behold not 50 shades
of gray, just one that's very gray.
At breakfast I notice a server carrying a large tray of
Japanese breakfast with odd looking ceramic pots possibly for tea unlike the
porcelain for my green tea. It is fascinating this clash of cultures onboard.
Observing the white clad footsoldiers in the dining room
army watching us and maneuvering confidently,
I say it's a pleasure to be an assigned passive participant in this well
choreographed production.
One TV tells us that Korsakov is 55 degrees, light
drizzle. Oh brother. The other opines about Trump's and Clinton's potential
veep choice.
I instruct Bob to resist the impulse to grab me and kiss
me in the public square. He will try to resist.
I greet the Russian inspector before we board the tender
with Dubroe Utro. He says that's good evening. We get into a discussion I saying Dobroe Vecher is good evening,(I'm
right.) woman behind me says I'm very brave, that he has a very intimidating
hat. (He does.)
We are going to be "unguided". Once I've found
a snow globe featuring the statue of Lenin, I'm home.
As we back into the pier our companions wonder what the
tour blurb's description "rustic buses" means. Bob guesses donkey
carts. Actually they're charming little busses replete with kitchen curtains
festooned with pictures of dachas and geese.
Dynamic mix of the very new and the decrepit.
Maria our guide. Chechov was here on this street. Meazawa
Japanese writer too. I think she says at the next stop we can buy souvenirs and
"used toilet". I prefer a new one -
At the shop we buy a doll magnet for $2. One husband to
another. "She can't do too much damage. You gave her $10."
Then, so much more than we expected, there is a performance in an adjacent auditorium. (This
is the village rec center.) Authentic dress. Singing. Absolutely charming. It's
supposed to be a town square, residents going about their business. They sing
to recorded music. They invite audience members onstage and move them about;
finally it's pretty corny.
Then R&B get a photo with the bear and some
performers . Fortunately I give my camera to the nearest young person so it's a
good pic ready for hanging on my study wall.
Lots of waiting for the tender and good to be back on the
ship where we may even fondle in the piazza without being thrown in the brig.
Since we arrive back at 2:30 or so we decide to wait for afternoon tea.
Alas we are seated at a table for six. No one seeming to
want to communicate out of their bubble. The Aussies Bob later notes are not
even speaking to one another. On the other hand the goodies that accompany tea are extraordinary. Love the scones, the fruitcake, the pistachio cake. Nasty! At one point as more fruitcake is being
offered, Bob enabler says have two, they are tiny. I reply they are tiny but I
am large. The woman of the other couple laughs appreciatively.
We Take a lovely rare sun-filled walk upstairs, catch a
bit of Cirque de Soleil on the mega screen, but our object is to arrive
home--our cabin. Here there's abundant home-made martinis and talking heads
opining on TV. Plus a nap. Ahem.
DINNER
R sea scallop and shrimp cocktail; excellent. Served in a
martini glass naturally. Penne Con Cozze; Fun. Bowl of San Francisco Style
Cioppino . Fine but where's the broth?
B Beef Satay; likes. pea Soup; Excellent. Tonkatsu
(Breaded pork) it's very good. Discovers that you don't need a spoon for the
miso soup. Just slurp it up a la Japenese.
And then Key Lime Pie! The pie not the drink this time.
Life is good.
 |
| DID YEHUDI MENUIN START OUT THIS WAY? |
We cadge 2nd row seats for the next production show which
we've seen many times before. Not to say it's not to be loved. Born To Be Wild
features feverishly smiling dancers and singers in, on top of and around a pink
Cadillac as it lights up and blows smoke and images of highways and 50's
refills the locales float by. Fast paced, engulfing, visually powerful, very
pro and not too taxing.
WEDNESDAY JULY 13.
This is nuts. Yesterday we moved back 2 hours. Today as
we approach Otaru it's 2 hours ahead. Bob is still abed; I've been up for hours
and am not thrilled about it. On MSNBC there's old Norman Lear saying Trump is
America's right middle finger. Yup.
Our tour isn't until 12:30 so lots of time to get ready.
Love our big couch. I'll stretch out.
Bob's up for the approach to the pretty harbor, a little
more like those Japanese woodcut scenes of green promontories rising from the
sea that lured me here--to this cruise itinerary--in the first place. Nice with
the accompaniment of green tea in the provided little porcelain cups that we
are drinking now. As we approach, it's clear that there is an industrial
component to the placid scene--large cement silos stolidly guard the docks at
the foot of those rising green hills.
I'm going Japonique this morning. Okayu (porridge) and
kudamono (sliced fruits). Bob scrambled eggs, bacon and hash browns with
English muffin. The breakfast menu is
limited on this ship, we think it's about that great limiting factor on the
Diamond, that the ship has to cater to two distinct linguistic and culinary
cultures.
Turns out I get the whole Japanese breakfast tray of
porridge, fishes and fruits and . . .
Feel noble trying out the other culture's breakfast (though Bob notes
most of the Japanese seem to be having ham and eggs).
It's Explore time and we discover Sterling steak house is
actually part of Horizon Court by day. Clever use of space. The old Sterling is
now the sushi restaurant, a sop to Diamond's changed clientele.
Richard, subbing for Roland, is wonderfully servile--we
want to take him home as our manservant. Our own Mickey Rooney. To let him
clean, we go upstairs and I make an acupuncture consultation appointment for
tomorrow, my neck being a painful reminder that my rotator cuff continues to be
massively torn.
And here we stand in line waiting to register for
re-entry into Japan. This after submitting a form for a tour of Hakodate
tomorrow, the market and Mt. Hakodate. Imagine, I overlooked that one when
confirming tours months ago at home.
Could a little lunch hurt before our afternoon tour of Otaru? (Yes, fatty.) We deign to hit the buffet line.
Could a little lunch hurt before our afternoon tour of Otaru? (Yes, fatty.) We deign to hit the buffet line.
Surprising not many of us awaiting our tour, Highlights of
Otaru Canal. Does the rest of the ship know something we don't?
The map of Otaru we find on our bus seat says
"Rental umbrellas available for free of charge." 4 1/2 hour duration.
Our older, earnest guide is Keiko.
Otaru is a satellite city of Sapporo. Most commute to
Sapporo.
Prosperity; Herring fishing, opening of railway (1882),
shipping to Sakhalin before became territory of Russia. Mt. Tengo. (Tengo is A
mystic creature. Has a long nose. If you rub his nose can make your wish come
true.) famous for skiing. Olympics. 5
slopes.
We line up for the "rope way", a cable car to
the top. There the view is spectacular and sitting grandly on the bay below is
the Diamond Princess. My ploy, to volunteer to take photos for others, works to
get us a couple of photos with the view and with long-nosed Tengo. The visit to
the chipmunk cage, cute critters that they are, is not the highlight of this
mountain visit though walls crammed with Tengos in the museum is pleasantly
weird. 
Now a 25 minute drive to "the tycoon's
mansion". Late 19th-early 20thc. Many herring. Color of sea changed from
blue to white "because of their sperms". Boiled in huge
boat--processed into fertilizers. Shipped to Osaka for growing plants. The
herring tycoons built mansions. Ours Took 6 1/2 years to be built. 18 rooms.
Brought 40-50 imperial carpenters from his homeland. Don't use nails. Lumber
was imported from May Island. Beautiful lacquered floors and ceilings.
"Look at the ceiling of the bathroom." Otaru is on the Japan sea. Now herring is gone. Maybe temperature of the water is
responsible.
The old Aoyama House which we tour. We're told to behave
like a Japanese tour group and stay together because the rooms are small and
the corridors are narrow.
 |
| FOUND IN THE MUCH REVERED CHIPMUNK COMPOUND |
Keiko lets us off for an hour and a half to shop on the
main thoroughfare. Though we don't buy anything (there are no snow globes to be
found though I'm tempted buy the glass music box that plays "Let It Be . .
. Seeking words of wisdom, let it be"-- but Bob says he just found, while
clearing out our kitchen for the workmen to destroy, a little inlaid wood music
box we bought ["Come Back To Sorrento"] in Sorrento 22 years ago and
that had been hiding almost as many years with all our other impulse travel
purchases). But the stroll yields free samples of chocolate and cake, viewings
of pretty glass items, food wares including a giant crab who looks like he's
trying to escape his tank and for whom we feel sorry (T. S. Elliots's "I should have been
a pair of ragged claws scuttling across the floors of silent seas" comes
to mind). We enjoy ourselves.
Back by 6 pm, we decide to seat ourselves at 7:30 for
the 8 0'clock show after enjoying a
couple of $5 Chairman of the Board drinks in Skywalkers overlooking the
darkening hills of Otaru.
We've little ambition to endure being served an elaborate
dinner in one of the dining rooms (it's back to anytime dining now, Bob says,
though we can't figure out why the change). So room service club sandwiches,
French fries and a bottle of Viejo red complete a rather pleasant day.
THURSDAY JULY 14.
Looks like a busy day ahead although rainy in Hakodate if
our TV Princess info channel is to be believed. (The other is that insistent
political voice MSNBC.)
Actually hard to tear away from Chris Matthews
interviewing Bill Mahr--who's always fascinating--to forage for breakfast but
we have a responsibility to uphold our culture.
BREAKFAST
At our adjacent table the cute young gay couple. Pleasantries
exchanged. Tomato juice. R. Prunes (of course), bagel and lox. Camomile tea.
Bob. His usual. A "boring" mushroom omelette, bacon, hash browns.
Coffee. As we sit here we rock with the swelling sea. Back in time for the last
five minutes of Bill Maher.
9:45 CLUB FUSION--ZUMBA
It's Marvin who turns out to be an unabashedly nelly and
somewhat portly Asian. Full of campy quips that the ladies love. Talks about
his weight loss from Zumba and how sexy he is now. (It's all attitude I
suppose.)
Short class wedged in by other dance classes--a Funny
Japanese dance class that confuses us Zumbaites coming in and followed by a
hula class so I've time to run up and take a shower.
11: ACUPUNCTURE CONSULTATION
Nice Japanese male acupuncturist. I discover that my name
is unpronounceable to Japanese. I offer my last name then realize that it too
is a problem. He of course suggests that acupuncture will be helpful at $155 a
pop and of course if followed by a nice massage will be less painful. I allow
I'll find a time to reserve.
11:15 EXPLORERS--JAPANESE CLASS
5 vowels + 43 consonants.
Terrible dawning realization that Japanese is a very
difficult language for a man of about to-be 75 to master even the rudiments of.
It seems to offer 2 or 3 extra syllables for every one in English despite the
efforts of the pleasant young man trying to teach me. So after a bit I take my
leave.
So we can take lunch at the Buffet at leisure and partake
of the opportunity to gorge. Oh that pastrami sandwich looks nice, well why not
a slice of ham and while I'm piling up my plate there's still space for more
MORE!
12:45 WHEELHOUSE-- TOUR
HAKODATE. Seishko is our guide. She passes out pictures
most of which are of little interest. They come fast and furiously. Rainy
blustery out. Oh joy.
On Hokkaido island. There's a 🚐
Cherry blossoms in spring. Winter lots of snow. First we
will see the morning fish market.
Well in advance of our hour of market time we seek the
relative comfort of our overheated bus.
We're not optimistic about our next stop, the Mt.
Hakodate ropeway. She passed around pictures again so we'll see what we won't
see.
And what we won't see is the view from the ropeway. We
know we won't Our long trip up the mountain (5000 years ago an island--for our
purposes it would have been better if it were--is not for naught. So what if
there is no visibility. Bob is excited to find chocolate covered potato chips
in the shop. And we even get to visit the toilet which is almost fun because in
Japan they are so damn clean.
Well it turns out this tour is a disaster.
A guide who barely speaks English and a tour company that
doesn't communicate conspire to offer us a Drenching experience.
6: SKYWALKERS
Life's good. Wet clothes off. We've hot showered, dried
off and need the escape to loyalty happy hour high above the water. A couple of
Chairmen, today on the rocks, enables us to stagger to dinner.
7: DINNER
R. Oshizushi--elegantly pressed prime tuna and salmon
sushi (strong on the rice), cream of wild mushroom soup; notate Gai no
kimiyaki--broiled scallops with sweet Japanese. It's a small dish but blissful.
B. Cheese soufflé (he's delighted), mushroom soup (ok)
don't forget the chef's amuse Boucher a sorbet--does the trick. The 3 meat
dish. Bob is disappointed.
When Bob orders another p is o. Cruises. Is it a
Phillipino thing?
9: PRINCESS--FOLKLORIC SHOW
Charming. Ok. I sleep through most of it.
10: EXPLORERS--RAKUGO (JAPANESE STORYTELLING) so it's
clear we must skip this.
FRIDAY, JULY 15.
Another day of reported terrorism, this time a truck
plunging into a Nice Bastille Day crowd.
Beginning to feel the result of forgetting to take along
my Meloxicam, pain pills. Need my joints in working order if only to get in and
out of those high-rider tour busses.
In-room
breakfast of McMuffin and fruit.
Bob tells me to "pull yourself together". Not
so easy these days. Bob hands me a plastic bag to protect my passport in case
of rain, a lesson learned yesterday when mine was drenched requiring a clips
treatment to flatten out the curling covers. I suspect immigration frowns
mightily on irregularity of that sort.
Our tickets say "Great Buddha located on top of
hill" which suggests we're going to see a great Buddha, always an upper.
They always seem so content, at piece with their girth, makes you wonder.
Passing scenery blah--Aomori destroyed in 2nd WW so all
has been rebuilt. Looks like a small American city of the 60's.
Our ancient guide, Katsuo, passes out a cheat sheet.
(Always a tip off that the guide's English can't carry the day--as is true this
day.) Item #2 is of particular interest. Kan-on is "a deity for older
people who are beginning to forget things." Need his help in remembering where I put my Meloxicam pills. (For starters.)
At the 5-story pagoda. (Seiryu-Ji Temple.-I trade photos
with the giant Buddha. We discover that the two kinds of enlightenment
represented by the Buddhas--one goes to universe, the others stay here. Ok.
We learn upon questioning about the tsunami memorial that
it's the eastern coast where they occur
and that 5 years ago our guide almost died in an earthquake. That's when he,
75, (so that's what s 75 year old looks like) retired stopped smoking and is
"feeling free".
We catch up with another guide who, speaking more fluent
English describes the 5 tier tower.
News. Just learned emperor will resign in a few years. |
| YEARLY PARADE OF ILLUMINATED FLOATS |
 |
| WE BUY A FAN--IT'S HOT OUT |
The museum of the illuminated floats is fascinating,
these representing historical or mythical events. Paraded in a festival
featuring marchers jumping exuberantly.
Shedding our long pants for shorts we find food at the
Horizon buffet. The fish as always this trip, is good. I also like the lamb
chops, Bob the curry. Glasses of red wine.
We're relaxing in our cabin listening to the reports of
rising death toll in France. 
We've the afternoon free, that is no events
planned. I think I'll take to the jacuzzi and heat rooms if they are available.
We've the afternoon free, that is no events
planned. I think I'll take to the jacuzzi and heat rooms if they are available.
They are. I get a jacuzzi to myself and just share the
steam room with a skinny Japanese man (that's why they live so long Bob and I
agree--eat a little fish and vegetables and for dessert, Bob asserts, something
made of rice paste. I'd rather meet my maker on an earlier schedule) and the
sauna with a young man a little out of shape (I should talk-Oy).
Back to find a bathrobed Bob reading on the sofa. Though
apparently he went upstairs for a cuppa in his new bout of freedom.
Having finished the Chelsea Handler book I'm on to an old
bio by Fran Drescher.
Much discussion on how we may spend the evening. Bob
nixes the magic show and prefers the very late 9:45 production show to its
earlier version. What's a couple to do? The most wonderful safest (terrorist
times) place on earth is Skywalkers so we partake of the shrimp Venetian Table
(a private joke) and a couple of Chairmen of the Board. Best place to catch
pano views of Aomori.
As we wait through our usual half hour pre-show, teasers
flash on a screen. "In what movie
did Diana Ross star with Michael Jackson?"
Um. Gone With the Wind?
THE SHOW. 8 pm version. As always fast-paced,
professionally accomplished within an inch of its life, one especially cute boy
dancer, but not an especially coherent selection of pop songs of the 80's.
DINNER. Taking sushi. Eggplant and mushroom. For both of
us. Not thrilling. Next. I'm trying the Curtis Stone dish. (Negligible.) Bob is
having the pesto. Then a baked Alaska --which they call something else this
evening. Incognito Alaska?
 |
| WORSE FOR WEAR |
We're fascinated by an American man at adjacent table
with 5 women, one of whom is his wife and the other 4 Aussie ladies at a share
table whom he non-stop regales with tales of his travel exploits.
Don't need to see that 9:45 show so beddy by.
SATURDAY JULY 16.
We wake up to a military coup in Turkey. We don't know
what this means. Nichols Burns being interviewed is saying Washington is
helpless to do anything in this strategically important country and we have
been taken by surprise.
At breakfast I say I like an occasional Slav to serve me
as one does with the pastries tray--so I can't refusenik.
Otherwise Phillipinos will bring us mushroom omelettes
with bacon and hash browns. Not very imaginative but I'm not in the mood for
the elaborate Japanese breakfast. "They make a good omelette" says
Bob.
ZUMBA
I'm a half hour early but--da noive--there's a tiny
Japanese woman in my space so I take a second row position and watch her do the
opposite of the right steps. At least music videos are turned on so we early
birds twirl and dance before Chris arrives, wonderful dancer with warm
personality--this ship has an amazing staff--who leads us through our paces.
CULINARY SHOW
 |
| INEVITABLE KITCHEN TOUR |
This features the Italian exec chef (30 years with
Princess since age 17)--we think we've seen him on other ships--Bob says they must
hire their chefs on the basis of personality--they are all larger than
life--and the ever-smiling Japanese "Entertainment Director" who
translates for the other half.
Boil pasta in boiling water with salt. Don't stir. Don't
wash the pasta. If sticks to wall it's ready. Makes pasta with pesto sauce.
 |
| WHERE'S OUR TABLE? |
(In north they use more butter than oil.)
To shrimp dish add brandy which makes it flame.
Some lovely relax time on our balcony where the weather
is balmy--it's been warm throughout.
Lunch. As an example of the care passengers are treated
with, a server advises me not to sit in a chair by the steps lest I'd be bumped
by a passing tray. I say I'll be too tempted to grab food. So I sit at another
seat at our table for four--but we're glad it's just for us two.
We order as if no tomorrow. I tell Bob I'm going to go on
a big diet when we get back so I can fit on the operating table. (My reverse
shoulder replacement surgery is August 30, I think, so there's time.)
Appetizer. Zucchini and cheese frittata. (Admire the
chef's adventurousness--but the combo is a little strange. Back to the drawing
board.) Tomorrow is disembarkation for
the 1st half only passengers. And we wonder if we can disembark and get to
Tokyo. Probably not. We rehearse answers when people ask how was Tokyo. I'll
say all the neon lights set off my pacemaker. (Note. No Tokyo. No neon lights,
no pacemaker.)
Me. Mediterranean fish stew. Bob. Penne primavera.
Dessert is peach pie a la mode (coconut ice cream). We saw them prepping the plates for it on our
gallery tour, just the dabs of whipped cream and the cocoa powder, the pie and
ice cream yet to be added. It's delicious--of course. All their desserts are.
Then, although we've been here multi times, it's one of
our favorite activities, the theatre tour.
Dance captain/production manager is from Namibia.
The usual Q's and a's.
746 seat theatre.
ATRIUM SHOW
Quirky as we watch from the first atrium balcony the
production dancers dance to the "Be my guest" number but this time
sung in Japanese.
Then groups of passengers strut their stuff--literally. Next a ukulele
chorus. Then passengers having been under the tutelage of various staff members
perform group dances, such as, Bollywood, Hawaiian, and a silly Japanese dance
imitating a squid. Why do other cultures amuse me so? To wit, The English are
funny, the Italians are funny, the Japanese are funny (Hello Kitty!)
 |
| WHOOPSIE DAISY |
 |
| AWFUL ART UP FOR BID |
Then groups of passengers strut their stuff--literally. Next a ukulele
chorus. Then passengers having been under the tutelage of various staff members
perform group dances, such as, Bollywood, Hawaiian, and a silly Japanese dance
imitating a squid. Why do other cultures amuse me so? To wit, The English are
funny, the Italians are funny, the Japanese are funny (Hello Kitty!)
MISSION IMPOSSIBLE
At home martinis. Bob enjoys this blow-em-up movie "appealing to 13
year olds" which I fortunately doze through, my homemade martini having
had its soporific effect.
DINNER
We find we are not expelled this formal night wearing
open collar shirts with our jackets.
Escargots, lovely, buttery luxe; but I ruin my
beautiful silky gray shirt with butter stains--adding to my theory that for
every plus there's a minus; tomato soup, two lobster tails thank you.
B noodles in rice paper, served in a sweet sauce--Bob
finds it "lovely"; tomato soup "Doesn't taste like tomato soup
but it's good"; beef Wellington. He very much likes and reminisces about
his first beef Wellington in New York in the early 70's. How could it have been
before we met?
After the usual end of cruise (segment) handkerchief
waving baked-Alaska dance we have a chocolate concoction which is to die.
"Warden for my last meal . . . " And we say goodbye to the charming
Asian couple from San Francisco (having learned that they have an older son of
54). Posing for their obligatory table photo, "She's not my wife."
(That prompts us to tell our wine bar story of incognito couples. Gotta
shamelessly capitalize on a life richly lived.
THE PRINCESS THEATRE SHOW
It's that French Canadian singer again. We note that the
male tuxedo wearing singers and dancers sit behind us cheering him on.
Appreciate the comraderie. Of course he ends his show with "This Is The
Moment" from Jeckyl and Hyde. You gotta leave them stirred. I guess
"The Impossible Dream" was taken.
G'night.
SUNDAY JULY 17.
As we examine ourselves in the mirror ready to disembark,
Bob notes We look exactly like American tourists" . So be it.
Feeling very free as we unfettered by a tour schedule
head wherever.
There toting their carry-ins are Dave and Jay (who has
become very gay now that he's off the ship: "Say goodbye ladies.")
They will be meeting a friend in Tokyo and then "getting into
trouble" in the gay ghetto of bars and clubs. Ah to be thirty something
and getting into trouble.
It is a Japanese Sunday in the park adjacent to the pier.
In the Red Brick building full of shops and crowds Bob stops fascinated by a
cook tossing rice and mixing it over the flames. We scour both buildings. The
crowds with their doll like children and babies in strollers dressed like
dolls, occasionally with their dogs in strollers dressed like dolls, perusing
the stalls of shops too upscale to sell snow globes. The ever-present sound of
girl merchant hawkers with their baby doll voices exhorting attention.
And then outside since it is approaching lunch hour now
there are huge lines snaking toward the tented food stalls.
I stop to take a photo of a man holding a rabbit. He
thrusts the rabbit at me, it's claws sticking into my chest as he laughs
semi-toothlesy. He is no longer the benign pet lover. A Fellini moment.
Dave and Jay recommended we try Chinatown "straight
ahead". (And where is Japan town?) After a half hour it is found. Hugely
bustling, commercial, the expected pagoda-roofed shops and restaurants,
neon-beckoning streets at angles. An amazing maze of activity.
It would seem that we are the only westerners in
Chinatown. Rather exclusive. And feeling a little lost as we make our way back
through avenues with upscale shops and hotels. We pass groups in athletic
gear-karate robes. Is there a sporting event? We know there will be a Twilight
Festival today which we'll miss.
 |
| MYSTERY SPORT |
Tired from 3 hours of wandering the streets of Yokahama
we order the same "recommended" sit-down-and be-served lunch.
Butternut squash soup, the 4-meat London grill (ham, lamb chop, steak and
banger), and the fruit tartlett. "Another insanely delicious
dessert", pronounces Bob. Accompanied by a bottle of that Puerto Viejo
chardonnay.
Watching an in cabin movie PITCH PERFECT about a rivalry
between male and female acapella groups at a university, starring actors,
faithful to the current mode, who are fifteen years too old for their roles.
But at least it's consistent--scores of thirty something freshmen acting out the script fantasies of fifty-somethings. Nevertheless I watch--Bob is too classy to do so--and am annoyed when the safety drill piped over the loudspeaker interrupts the mediocre but watchable flow. "Step off do not jump" in the event you must enter the water, the loudspeaker warns.
Bon voyage. Scores of locals are waving bye to us as we
depart from this remarkable terminal, a huge grassy deck built atop it.
It's seven o'clock, enough lying abed and pop movie
watching, so we bestir Ourselves to go down to the Wheelhouse Lounge for day
one of the LGBT get-together. This turns out to be very strange indeed. We sit
near three male couples seated at nearby tables all of whom are engaged in
avoiding the other couples. After ten
minutes of this bizarre arrangement (and of being avoided by the server) and of
being painfully aware that they are not waiting for their wives, a couple come
over and introduce themselves to us, John and Ridge, well traveled (older of
course but not necessarily older than us) gentlemen from Auckland, New Zealand.
Bob gets to talk with John, I with Ridge, a sweet optimistic man--we trade
enthusiasms--who evinces great interest in our travels and in my brief
oceangoing concert-singing career since he's a pianist himself. It's 7:45 time
for our set seating in the Savoy, we've still not been served. As we leave, I'm
to learn from Bob that he had trouble hearing John who like Bob is a more
reserved type and especially since the Hawaiian duo has kicked in at 7:15.
DINNER.
This time our fixed seats in Raymond's section have new
neighbor's, on one side what appears to be a Japanese speaking mother and her
I'd guess 13 year old daughter and on the other a Japanese speaking elderly
couple, he bizarrely wearing a fedora. It looks like this cruise segment we
won't be bonding with our companions as we eventually did with the Asian couple
from San Francisco. Ok.
B. Melons appetizer R. Mushroom soup. Both: salad, prime
rib. Yum. I have Norman Love's chocolate soufflé creation (fabulous) and Bob
chocolate chip ice cream. Our Wente wine. (Last night's remnant awaiting us at
our table--an advantage of the fixed seating arrangement.) This entitles us to
waddle upstairs, I abandoning my intention (not Bob's) to see the magician,
this evening's main event, to sweet sleep.
MONDAY JULY 18.
If it's Monday it must be Shimizu. Looks like there are
beauteous mountain ranges out there as we sail into the port but who can tell;
its fogged over. And I'll be pissed if we won't be able to see Mt. Fuji.
But It does have a Ferris wheel. Every town seems to have
a Ferris wheel.
As we approach we see busses getting into position and
bizarrely what sounds like an orchestra tuning up. People lining up on the dock
at parapets to greet us. And there's the orchestra. We're a big deal here.
Martial tones, very stirring. 30 mostly horns and wood winds As the guides
gather together by the now assembled buses for their instructions.
But the headline on TV today is shooting three more cops,
this time Baton Rouge, LA. We're as far away as we can be today but it's still
with us, present, the unrest outside our bubble and add the possibly
unprecedented debacle of the Trump Republican convention about to begin.
In-room breakfast works and then the wait for our tour,
Mt. Fuji and tea ceremony. I pray that our guide will speak understandable
English and we'll actually see the famous mountain. Oops she's counting the
seats in Japanese.
Sumiko is our guide. Speaks in sentences. Yea.
Mt.
Fuji is hide and seek. Though it's rainy season,
sunny day but not clear for Fuji.
Shimizu industry is port, fishery--esp. Cherry shrimp.
Tea production. Tangerines.
Our itinerary: First the beach, then inland for tea.
Legendary story.
Fisherman takes robe on tree. Maiden says don't take it, it's heavenly
and without it I can't go back to heaven. He asks her to perform her dance in return.
She flies higher than Mt. Fuji and disappears.
We still have the sacred pine tree she hung her robe on.
A Noh performance every year on the beach.
2 religions in Japan . Buddhism and
Shintoism= nature
worship.
Heavy sound of cicadas as we enter the beach area. Shinto
shrine. No images like Buddha. Purification. She shows us how to purify.
There's the Shinto dancing stage. Big festivals twice a year. Sacred area
decorated in straw (clouds) and paper (thunder). Need rain, sunshine and temperature
to grow rice. Pray to these. Sun goddess. Blue containers outside temple is for
sake--made from rice. 5 yen coin is good luck. Fortune telling papers tied to
tree.
Then a ten minute walk between pine trees to the
beach, 30,000 grow there.
The trees are 200 years old.
"This is where you are not going to see Mt.
Fuji," says Bob. Climbing Season: 2 months beginning July 10. Mt. F. Very cold on top. 3776 meters high.
Erupted many times, last 300 years ago,
 |
| WHAT WE DON'T GET TO SEE |
 |
| PRAYERS |
Silence important in tea ceremony, first sip say good.
"Oisir".
Last sip: slurp.
Don't use a teapot for powdered tea.
Taste the sweets because the tea is bitter.
Fan is used for cooling and as a boundary between the
humble server and the sacred served, Ookie
yoi.
Traveler's Walked thirty km a day during the Edo period
from Tokyo to Kyoto. Took 2 weeks. 17 stations.
"Enjoy the garden and other stuff," says Suzie.
The sweet is a root. Kuzu.
She says we must enjoy the moment. Put daily cares behind
us.
Bob is the last to finish his tea and "to defend our
honor" slurps loudly. I applaud which might not be an appropriate response
but the group seems too somber for such an enjoyable event.
Out in the garden by the koy pond, Bob says he enjoyed
the tea ceremony. I say we can have it in our opium den at home. He says your
opium den is such a fusion of cultures, more Chinese. I say we'll get more
Japanese things. Like . . . Hello Kitty?
Museum. Wood block printing. 300 years ago monotone. Each
color used for one block. Need 8 or 9 different blocks.
 |
| THE PILGRIMAGE TRAIL |
 |
| BOB AND REUEL - PILGRIMS |
 |
| LEARNING THE CRAFT |
Wonderful prints. Even the "toy" prints
developed during the Edo period.
Then for 300 yen ($3) I buy 3 sheets of paper and with a
little assistance I go through the block print process as Bob documents my bald
spot bowing over my work and voila! A lovely authentic multicolored block print ready for hanging in
our Opium Den (yes we have one in our home. Doesn't everybody?)
Suzie shows how to
tie a scarf on the head as chef, housewife, ninja, kabuki thief, etc. Then she
makes origami lips. Funny.
 |
| BOB LIKES THESE |
 |
| SUZIE AS "THIEF" |
Domo means thank you. Oyshi when food is very nice.
Keerai. Means beautiful.
Japanese believe in both Buddhism (celebrated once a
year) and Shinto (Jan 1). They Don't think it strange. Shinto originated in
nature worship. Buddhism came from India thru China in 6th c.
Until1868 Japan not allowed any other kind of religion.
They feel Shinto thru their lives, especially earth and
ocean. Shinto 16th c. Jesuits but Shoguns worried about the power of
Christianity.
Tea ceremony harmony important. Ichi (one) go. Might be a
one time meeting but ve🐍
I say an excellent tour. Bob adds, "Because we had a superb
guide".
In the horizon court I try udon noodles. It's delicious
as are the mussels in tomato sauce. And everything else I see that I can barely
fit on my plate. Bob loves a breaded cauliflower with hot melted cheese on the
side. A waitress upsells us (not tough) a bottle of Robert Mondavi cab
"for the room". (Did she have to choose the Reserve?)
I lose a key at least once a cruise--it's good luck.
Here we sit in the Princess Theatre awaiting the Geisha
Show (or something), actually "Samisen Music and Dancing by Geishas of
Shimizu Geigi Union". That's a mouthful. And they present a fascinating
glimpse of certain cultural conventions and performance. Heavy white make up.
Elaborate hand gestures. Big hair. Geishas!
Long line at the Tour desk--and a guy in line in front of us from LA
buttonholes us with tales of his experiences with various military sites--his
passion. I say, to Ward him off, if for a Moment, that we need to look at a
tour for Buson, South Korea but it turns out that the agent takes time with us
to describe the tour, show us the map of the itinerary and photos of a temple
we'll visit so we sign up and determine we'll take our chances with the
departure tour of Yokahama and to the airport even though our flight is before
their overly cautious 6 pm. Good customer service is a pleasure and Princess
supplies it in spades.
 |
| PAGEANTRY JUST FOR US (AND 1/2 THE TOWN) |
But a highlight of the cruise is off our balcony on the
dock. Bob calls "Reuel Reuel" and sitting there must be half the town
and the other half is performing precision dances athletically and wonderfully
in costume in groups (my theory is that this is emblematic of Japanese group
culture and traditional reliance on convention). They really Like us it would
seem. They put on a great show, wave us goodbye, play Ald Lang Zein and set off
fireworks (at first scaring these skittish Americans until we realize it's all
in fun). 
After party dinner with server Raymond and Our neighbor's
to my left the Japanese mother and daughter. She's comparatively young and
looking fabulous. What's their story?
To our right the Elderly Japanese man wears a white hat
this evening. Then he motions me with his camera. Clearly he wants me to take a
photo of them. No he says in fluent Japanese. He wants a pic of me and his
wife. I graciously comply. "I am filled with hilarity" I say to Bob.
"And you should be", he replies.
Bob's pasta appetizer is "very good. They manage to
bring you pasta al dente which is extraordinary ." My crabmeat quiche
quite nice indeed.
 |
| MAMA-SAN TO MY LEFT |
 |
| PAPA-SAN TO MY RIGHT |
I note the décolletage on young mama. Bob says a girl is
always looking. I say "And not finding in these particular woods." In fairness
she seems to be having a fine time with her daughter.
So I have the salmon with a soy sauce if I want it. And
Bob has the medallions of beef which is actually a big juicy lump, "more
like a filet", and I'm a little envious, an annoying emotion. My salmon is of course okie dokey but light
in the flavor department. Then I get a sample of the beef and pronounce it
"a little chewy." Pyrrhic victory.
Evy (from Bali)
is our assistant server. Remember.
Dessert: "Chocolate Journey". Chocolate
hazelnut bar with Citrus Cream. Raymond
passes around some extra sweets too. Died and gone to Heaven! (But a fat person will reside there for all eternity).
Still not sure if I've seen this show before--Bob thinks
not and enjoys it. Familiar songs from Elton John and Barry Manilow--dancers
and singers working their tails off.
I'm exhausted too. Hard day being treated like visiting
royalty, well definitely like well-fed courtiers in the royal entourage.
TUESDAY JULY 19
What was I thinking? I argue that I couldn't possibly
have booked us for a cave and beach tour in Kochi, then discover I did. But Bob
has an antipathy to beaches, Reuel is claustrophobic in caves and Bob has been
limping considerably from a sore Achilles' tendon and has trouble walking and
this is apparently a walking tour. I guess "suck it up" is the
operable phrase. My bad?
So here we await our fate in the Princess Theatre with an
uneven mixture of anticipation and dread. Tour director says "if you have any
questions about the tour ask me." I say "Why?" Bob says, "I
don't think they're asking for cosmic questions."
We learn they will be processing 1000 people on tours
within 2 hours. It is a massive operation.
She says check your sticker or you may wind up with a
tour you never expected. ( But I never expected this tour anyway.)
Once released, bustling pier. We avoid the ninja and the
geisha who want us to take a photo with them.
Snacks (deep fried sweet potatoes with sugar and
biscuits--supposedly specialties of Kochi) and water on our seats and guessing
whether our guide looks like she speaks good English.
Taeko Wantanabe is our guide. Great weather today but
really hot and humid. Last day of rainy season.
4 prefectures in Shikochu. Kochi famous for bonito fish.
Best seared and sliced. Also moray. Seared, fried or stewed. Sake lovers. Kochi
is known as the land of sake. Famous for
merry drinking games. Drinking cups. One type has a hole in it. (Guess you have to
drink it fast.) Tengo cup with long nose--holds a lot of sake. Ice cream
popular between ice cream and sherbet with lo fat content. Citrus fruit too. Yougado cave is 3rd largest in Japan, made national
historic site in 1937.
 |
| SWORDS AND KNIVES ANYONE? |
 |
| NO WAY! |
She warns if don't have
confidence don't enter. (Hmm.) I say I hate to miss any adventure but Bob says
we don't want to hear me screaming and he will not go too. When we hear that it will be crowded and you
can't return I know I'm making the right decision. We'll have to pass on seeing
stalactites in the shape of the Virgin Mary.
We while away our cave time enjoying the pretty scenery,
the museum showing pottery from the caves and a kind of natural history lesson on
evolution, also discover the hen house full of varieties of hens and crowing
roosters. Noisy and wonderful. Then 30 minutes to the beach in front of a deep
green pine grove and near our ship.
The city itself is without charm.
Our guide shows bowing (degrees of incline) in business relationships, gestures.
Much discourse on the pilgrimages.
Walking stick is incarnation of Kukai so he is always
with you. Lucky to travel in reverse order. Temples by prefecture represent
different attributes, such as, enlightenment, achieving nirvana, austerity
(Kochi).
Graves. Japan cremates because the land is so small.
Japanese wives more independent these days. Old husbands
didn't cooperate. Average age of women to get married 30's. 3 c's: compassion,
communicative, cooperative.
Yosakoi Festival in August. Dancer holds a castanet and
dances. Formerly used to scare birds away from the family fields.
We'll pass Kochis famous Kanibasi bridge scene of 10th c
love tragedy.
Kochi castle built 17th c. By feudal lord. Rebuilt 1749.
Edo period. His wife was more respected. The lord yamautchi Kasatoyo got castle
as reward for battle. Original gate. Door 3.5 tons.
Bob says as we descend the castle steps that his foot is
improving, I say, "I know I see you virtually scampering". He's dubious.
We snack on our dried sweet potato thing. Very good.
I sing Hello Kitty to the tune of Hello Dolly (it was
inevitable) when we get back on the bus after having viewed the pretty beach,
the imposing hero statue and perused the schlock shops having purchased a
rather large plastic snow globe of Kochin Castle (snow globes being slim
pickins' in this here country); it will own pride of place on our hall niche shelves
with the others of its disreputable ilk.
Kit Kat in Japanese means Definitely Win (students buy it
to prepare for their entrance exams).
Interesting that each guide speaks with affection of
their home towns no matter where they are guiding. This one invites us to her
hometown of Hiroshima.
On the pier we're handed little cups of the semi sweet
goo we had with our ritual tea yesterday. Works. And back to the aftermath of
the first day of the Republican Convention. Only to discover that MSNBC is
hitting hard on the Melania Trump plagiarism of Michelle Obama's speech and
that Fox News seems to be avoiding it. Will the plot thicken tomorrow?
Meeting the guys--unplanned--John and Ridge--in the
Wheelhouse. This time I converse with John who is an interesting but lower key
fellow than his partner of 30-something years, Ridge, who this time converses
with Bob.
 |
| THE SUSHI RESTAURANT WE'LL AVOID |
 |
| THEY TAKE PICTURES OF FOOD TOO. |
DIN-DIN. R & B. Dim sum dumplings. Chilled Russian
Borscht. Beef Curry. Our wine bottle is waiting for us. That's a kick and
recommends fixed seating. Dessert. B. Apple strudel. . Coconut mousse with dark
chocolate cream and crunchy roasted coconut. Sublimity.
We're here in the theatre for the singer. It's not a full
house.
WED JULY 20
At sunrise I am out on the balcony sea-gazing as we float by chiaroscuro island hills.
We enter the Nagasaki harbor to the strains of "Green Green Grass of Home". Beautiful harbor. Layers of green hills but like all the harbors we've seen, it's natural splendor somewhat besmirched by the industrial sprawl at the base of the hills rising from the shore.
The non-sushi selection at the Asian specially restaurant
being pork-centered and not to Bob's liking, our default is the International
Dining Room where Reuel has the cream of vegetable soup (really really good) the
chicken Marsala with curry sauce and the lintzer torte. Bob, the radicchio salad, also the chicken Marsala and the lintzer
torte. (Excellent. Bob reminds me we had it last week.) We pass on the pastrami
sandwich which from my point of view takes resolve.
Bob notes that the dining room is crowded and the Japanese are
not going to the peace park. They don't need the lesson I say.
When we get back to our stateroom we're docked and
apparently have missed the musical greeting as the players are packing up their
instruments. As we look out at the city I wonder if there are any buildings
older than 1945.
Long stay in the Savoy dining room waiting for our disembark number
to be called.
Maybe we should forget this tour habit altogether if our
experience in Nagasaki is an examplar. We're free and delighted to know from the information desk that we can get to Caroll Gardens and the Catholic church by foot.
I think I remember the Mobil gas station from our previous time in Nagasaki (15
years ago?) part of our Asian trip on the old Grand Princess. I thought then,
Japan shouldn't have urban gas stations; it should look like the wood cut
prints I'd seen. Now I've learned that it's got urban sprawl and the fact
that we bombed it into oblivion 71 years ago has something to do with the bland
urban "look". Get over it?
Anyway were privileged to find another aspect to Nagasaki
this time, the church is fascinating and the story of discrimination of
Christians on Japan is underscored.
The gardens which we visit and are escalated to upper
levels overlooking the gorgeous city on the bay are a revelation. Well
preserved Victorian houses of the Anglo barons of Nagasaki's past, even an
exhibit of various Madame Butterflies who performed here at the birthplace of that opera.
 |
| MADAME BUTTERFLY KIMONAS |
 |
| THE OLD NAGASAKI HOTEL SERVICE SETTING |
 |
| SNOW GLOBE FINDING |
We drop off our request for transfer to Narita (the transfer
tour through Tokyo makes Bob nervous about catching the plane on time--and I,
thank you, don't need to suffer through his
angst from now through takeoff Monday.
Then since its nearby and on this shore evening this is virtually a
ghost ship, we stop by our friend Yuko at Future Cruises to ascertain that
we'll have a complimentary drink package upgrade for our Panama Canal cruise.
(Later Bob says maybe we'll be off the sauce by then, attending The Friends of
Bill W meetings aboard. Depends how our livers are doing at that time I say. Hey it's a
concern.)
Speaking of which, our Skywalkers bar server knows exactly what we want, Bob
the Brezzo Marina, Reuel the Chairman of the Board (c'est moi). Not as busy as
yesterday because folks can explore Nagasaki until 9:30 pm.
We decide to attend the 7 pm show with that fabulous
dance team of the first segment and decide that even if it's the same, it's
worth the seeing. Alex and Magdelina. It is and troupers that they are even
with a sparse audience they give it their sexy professional all.
Heading toward one of the dining rooms we decide in-room
dining sounds just right. I prepare in- room martinis and order us Caesar salads
from room service. This is going to be a perfect day. Add a movie. The 2nd Best
Marigold Hotel. (Enjoyed the first one.)
THURSDAY JULY 21.
Then arriving into Busan. Of all the approach vistas
we've seen on probably 19 cruises, this is the most spectacular. A city of the
future in a gorgeous setting. Oz.
Trump's ghostwriter has dire warnings for the electorate
about who he really is. I wonder who's listening. I hope the Independents
are.
We're backed up at the tour line. That's a problem with
this immigration rigamarole we go through as we waft in and out of countries
Che hay yung is our guide. Choy for short.
Seoul capital is
10 million. Busan 3.6 million. Goal 4 million. Crowded. Less area than Seoul.
2nd largest, largest port in East Asia. Located southeastern tip of Korea. All
Buddhist temples are cultural heritage. 70% of Koreans don't have a religion.
From 4th c. Buddhism as state religion until 1392. From 1392 to 1910 then
Confucianism state religion.
Port bridge is scary and beautiful. We pass the Royal
Caribbean Ovation.
Mahaina Buddhism here. Other Shihana Buddhism--(only one
Buddha).
Now 2 story bridge 7+ km. Diamond Bridge. 1 million
lights at night.
Spectacular cityscape! Rows of skyscrapers.
3 gates to main entrance to temple go thru to meet
Buddha. Leave 1st gate mundane world 108 steps. Special number. Human being has
108 troubles, agonies thru life. So the wish is to remove those 108 agonies.
Come from 6. Eyes, nose, ears, good, bad, so-so of 6 feelings. Past, present
future. 36x3=108.
Boddhisatava is waiting for enlightenment. Recite name
and get wish.
"It's Nothing like a reform synagogue," I say
as we listen to the monk chanting in the gayly
decorated temple. As we ascend 180 steps I ask Bob if his
agonies are lifting. No is the expected response. We've ascended to visit the
goddess of mercy. Hope she's hospitable.
Dayhaminggu is name for Korea. Hamu for short. Means
great Hun.
Koreans are partly Mongolian. Until 15th century rode horses.
From air looks like a cauldron. "Bu" is pot. "San" is city. Busan.
 |
| WHAT CRUISE DINING DID TO US |
 |
| BUT WE'RE HAPPY |
 |
| LOCAL HUNK |
 |
| "TRAFFIC SAFETY PRAYER PAGODA" |
 |
| DESERVES OUR PRAYERS |
 |
| WITH DOG GOD FRIEND |
Coming up APEC (Asian pacific Economic Corporation.
House. Hold conferences there.
 |
| I'LL HAVE A CREEPY CRAWLY YOU'RE IRONING. NOT. |
We pass cityscape. Zenith apartments 88
Storied apt bldg tallest in Korea. $7000/ sq meter. ;
Inside there's a mother of pearl art piece meaning long life. Deer
gamboling in the forest. Fairies eating peaches ("have all the
nutrients" asserts our guide. Really?) The piece resides also in the imperial palace. We walk around the impressive
conference room and then out to the lighthouse and spectacular city ocean
views. At least the macadam has a soft coating for our circular walk around the
park.
The vertical city is amazing, a tribute to an economy
that burst into bloom speedily
So time to be back and we sit in the bus minus one woman
passenger. Our guide leaves, twice, to find her. Something must be very wrong.
Our guide is back. No woman. Bob remembers her, "short, tan,
unpleasant". Well she's screwing us. The international market was
scheduled to be next; almost a half hour later we leave without her.
Koreans eat raw fish on the spot. Not so Japanese.
70% of Korea is mountainous. (Like Switzerland. But not
nearly as high. Consider a mountain 100 m.)
Economy: cars, ship building, steel working, petrochemical goods
but they import all oil from abroad.
Tourism not that big. 8 m of 14 m tourists are Chinese.
¥6, Rd
Korean music, films big. Korean Fever. Bands Big Bang and
Super Junior. Tv series, The Distance of the Sun.
The markets are extraordinary. Stalls stretching for long
blocks. Apparently three different streets. Then the fascinating fish market.
We pass by the little fish restaurants with people beckoning us in.
 |
| WOMEN STARTED THE "AUNTIES MARKET" |
 |
| AHEM. |
They call USA "migu"--beautiful country.
As to 1st stop, temple, very popular; the APEC House--people like to live near there, scenic.
Korea is full of energy insists our guide. And if we want
energy we should revisit it. As for me, I'm exhausted and hungry so After
getting a dose of the current day's Republican debacle, on TV, we have some
little desserts from the upstairs dessert line and catch some ringside view
seats on the pool deck.
We've got a tight evening schedule so it's up to
Skywalkers for cocktails at 5. So we can get positioned for the 6:30
"production" show at 6. Then fixed
dinner seating at 7:45.
We talk about the t-shirts we've bought. I say I'm plus
sized now. I say "What?" Bob: "I didn't say anything."
"But you made all those kabuki faces," I reply. His laughter
acknowledges the truth of that. Yes there's a diet in my not too distant future. [Reading this a month later--promises, promises.]
Again we debate whether we've seen this show, Do You
Wanna Dance. (No question mark. Declarative. There's no doubt. I agree. Wanna
dance.)
Passing through Wheelhouse bar we see our friends Dave
and Ridge and chat with them.
Dinner. It's Italian night.
R. Herb and Sea salt marinated seafood antipasto. B.
Prociutto and melon. R. Veal scaloppine and B. Pot roast. We're both very
happy. I ask Randy, our server, how long he's been with Princess. Since 1998.
He's 43 and has sons of 19 and 17.
The mother and daughter have a "happy anniversary" cake.
Randy whispers "I don't understand". Neither do we.
Bob says my reaction of orgasmic joy re. the tiramisu is
the same as last week's. Sayeth Bob, "Except for the flavor and deliciousness, it has
no redeeming qualities."
FRIDAY JULY 22.
Getting there--to the big 75. Tomorrow. This morning Bob
asks why I am laughing. It is about a segment of my last night's dream. I tell
a guy that I'm having a big birthday in a few days and guess how old I'll be.
He says he won't guess; age is not important, face lifts and creams can hide
age; what matters is your spirit, how young you feel. I do wonder how old he
thinks I am however.
 |
| IF I'D JUST STOPPED HERE |
 |
| WHICH ONE IS REUEL? |
Of all the Bon Bons the Diamond offers we only bite the
tough salty nugget that is the final day of the Republican National Convention.
Hope we don't get indigestion. We note that the Trump women including the ice
Princess daughters-in-law look like Fox news ladies, homogenized blonde white
pretty ladies. Ivanka nominates him for builder in chief it would seem. Then
Trump--the law and order candidate. Scary. On January 20,2017. "Safety
will be assured." He's scaremongering.
"I will restore law and order to our country." "We don't want THEM in our
country." "I am your voice." He's angry for "us".
Almost endless rant before the balloons drop.
Need (need?) for sustenance carries us upstairs to the
pool deck for thin crusted capriciossa and marguerita pizza with bud lights
rather than the other alternate offering today , the pub lunch. We manfully
pass by the beckoning dessert displays throwing kisses at us. (There's always
tea time.) I pass our assistant server Evy from Bali. I wonder if she notices
I'm wearing my Bali t-shirt featuring Kecek dancers.
A fragile boy needs heat and wet. So up to the spa for
all kinds of heat and sauna. Ah good.
Lining up for our platinum-elite party, we note that the
proportion of Anglos to Asians is overwhelming. So many
newbie tags (Blue or gold) on the stateroom doors suggests that the Japanese don't do these
cruises unless it's around Japan.
We say that we're the only gay couple here among these
rich people, women with big flashy diamonds--love it. But in Donald Trumps
LGBT world "we're what's happening" notes Bob. As we watch an elderly Asian couple Doing wonderful steps, I tell Bob that we must
perfect a routine.
361 platinum, 154 elite. Out of 2900 passengers. Our
future cruise lady cleans up well. The new Princess ship in 2017 will sail from
Rome to Singapore.
3rd place over 700 nights aboard. 2nd over 900. 1st. 1051 sea days. As usual we don't win the champagne raffle but we've had a couple of
free drinks.
Our seat mates sort-of, the mother and young daughter, seem to have gorgeous outfits for every
occasion. Remarkable.
My escargots are wonderful drenched in butter. (It's
gonna be one of those evenings.) and I'm full already. My two (not one but two)
lobster tails are on the way after my cream of tomato soup (nice of
course--they do salads well). Bob remembers that I loved it last time--I'll have
to check the blog; Bob's noodles in rice paper doesn't excite him. He's got a
salad coming. "They don't do salads well." though he's not strong in
defense of that position; and then his
tortellini in Marsalla sauce main (pronounces it "ridiculously
good"). OMG then a second lobster tail arrives. I can't refuse. It would
be impolite. Bob however refuses to help out.
 |
| HE'S SO GAY. |
For the Big Shew (to quote Ed Sullivan) it's that
electronic violin performer, Chris Watkins, who we saw on the last segment. He
plays favorites starting on his jeweled violin in his jeweled costumes. A little too much narrative between numbers
requiring elaborate Japanese translations.
SATURDAY JULY 23.
Well I made it to 75! Yea.
Good start for my birthday:
Hilary Clinton brilliantly trashing Trump's "I alone
can fix it." Her mantra: "Love trumps hate."
What fun. Princess sends me a birthday card and affixes a
birthday sign on our door and birthday balloons. When I was four there is a
recording of me saying "I'm a very lucky boy because I have a bicycle, a pair of
skates and a balloon!" One down. Bob says, "They do good work here."
Since salmon seems to be the fish in today's Japanese breakfast set, I think I'll have it.
 |
| HAS STICKS. CAN EAT. |
 |
| BOB & REUEL AFTER AEROBICS CLASS. |
As we
look out over Hakodate on the top deck I tell Bob I
feel fortunate and optimistic. Bob will later tell me when we are back in the
cabin hearing that Hilary has chosen Tim Kane as her VP (like to mark political
events on my birthday) that I'm a very lucky boy. Got not one but two balloons,
a card, a Japanese breakfast and will have a Japanese bath and a massage. Yup.
After going through immigration (again!) we're going to
give Hakodate a chance (again). Shuttle
bus. As we ride through entirely unprepossessing city streets
("ugly"). Urban detritus. Bob tells me Japanese poco man has just been
released. So??
At the red warehouse we find a lovely glassware store and
buy--it's my Birthday--tiny fake food bowls for our hall niche of foreign
thingies. At one of the mall buildings off the bay we bump into Dave and Ridge, our New Zealand buddies, who are on a tour that includes lunch.  |
| MUSIC BOX MAN |
 |
| BEST DRESSED CRANES. |
And I use up every bit of my slotted 90 minutes for
today's port special of $10. Pleased, I make an appointment for tomorrow.
Then a scenic walk forward to the Lotus spa. Here after
filling out my pledge not to sue them "stress 7" (not really),
"neck pain". I caution my charming little therapist not to sell me
any products and she actually agrees. She gives me a sit-down neck massage
before I lie down for my 85 minute massage. "What's that? It's cold. I've
never had that before." It's my wet bathing suit. We have a big laugh and
she gives me a substitute pair. A massage is a good thing. I add $10 to the 15%
tip. Big shot on his birthday.
No ascending to Skywalkers for cocktails tonight but in-room martinis work just fine.
No ascending to Skywalkers for cocktails tonight but in-room martinis work just fine.
Bob is having the
Mediterranean style lobster cake ("tastes just like crab cake")black
and blue onion soup, and the filet but only 8 ounces. He'll have the lemon
meringue pudding tart,
Princess has created this restaurant out of their Horizon
Buffet restaurant space. Only semi-successfully. The lights are still a little
bright.
Of the wine Bob says, "You'll find it darker and
richer than our usual swill." I'm of course delighted for the
upgrade. Bob investigates. The wine is 4
years old.
That's when I got my balloon for my 4th birthday so we think that means something.
Bob has the waiters sing Happy Birthday with my obligatory chocolate birthday
cake.
We talk of my massage therapist who when hearing that
this was my 75th she was shocked. "I thought 60, 61, 62 . . . "
Before she could continue I said Stop. "Yes she
played me," I admitted but nevertheless . . .
Bob says that my snores during the Folkloric concert were sufficiently subdued so that he did not need to poke me.
Lovely birthday.
SUNDAY JULY 24
As we go to breakfast Bob says of my zumba trousers,
"they're silly". I say there's a fine line between silly and beautiful.
He replies "You've crossed it." Well I Nevvah.
Actually we've not much ambition to continue eating. "Jam sir?" Bob: "You're paying for it." Ok. Impressive phalanx of white clad waiters lined up to serve what starts out as a sparsely attended dining room.
Actually we've not much ambition to continue eating. "Jam sir?" Bob: "You're paying for it." Ok. Impressive phalanx of white clad waiters lined up to serve what starts out as a sparsely attended dining room.
Wait to be a half hour early for Zumba with Chris. The
old body is not responding the way it wants to.
At lunch after much lethargy in our Quarters, Bob is
having Brunswick chicken ("a stew that was made with rabbit in the 19th
century" he informs me. He likes it. Walnut cake. Vegetarian spring rolls
"looks particularly unappetizing . . . But good" R. Cream of
cauliflower soup (excellent) the braised chicken and that cake (spectacular;
the desserts without fail have been excellent).
While Bob packs I get to soak and broil in the Japanese
sauna (Soo good for a guys neck) where today there are other people even Japanese children.
Our last night at Skywalkers our genial server knows what
we like, Bob Brezzo Marina, Reuel, chairman of the board. When we say goodbye
he asks that we remember him on the Princess questionnaire.
Then there's a magilla with internet where we need to get
Bob's boarding pass on his computer. The nice young man figures it out though
we arrive late to dinner--without consequence as it turns out. We're not turned
away. Just a glass of wine each. I'll have the seafood appetizer Bob Kapanede eggplant.
We both love our appetizers. It's amazing how, with
thousands of passengers, each dish is seasoned so well. Gourmet service.
Then there's the parade of wait staff waving napkins as
we all do, carrying baked Alaska and lights in the darkened dining room, the
intro of the exec chef and the maitre D'. And then a waitress who sings never
say goodbye (she did at the end of the first segment too) rather charmingly. So
of course we have the baked Alaska which the menu calls "ice cream bombe
"Diplomate".
Then there's the mish mash of pop opera and pop pop themes like those from James Bond movies. But on balance all performed with spirit, in
great costumes and supported by great lighting. Then there's Chris Watkins
featured in the midst of it all of whom Bob says with his usual precision, "It's a strange talent to
be a mediocre violinist who can do splits".
MONDAY JULY 25 Bye Bye.
DEBARKATION and travel day and strange, though we'll be
in transit for more than a day, we'll arrive in San Diego the same day.
After breakfast--it does seem unnecessary at this point
for our server to point out that the right side of the menu shows the English
items.
As a parting gesture--TMI?--I try out the buttons on the
cabin's toilet. The Japs (pardon) have a good thing going there. I want one!
Bob heaves a big sigh of relief--not nostalgia-as we
leave our cabin and We give Ronald our steward a little extra something. Later
Bob will say that he bets the Japanese (who are I'd estimate 75% of the
passengers) don't leave tips. Another example, I reply, of how they are smarter
than we are.
Bob's put the
departure items together superbly and we're on our way to stop and go, stop and
go at others' beck and call all the long day.
We're waiting in
the Santa Fe dining room which we haven't tried this trip, a rather campy
place, an aggressive and somewhat lighthearted idea of American Indian culture and
artifacts, for our long wait to be expelled from the ship. I poke into Michael
Chabon's Telegraph Avenue in hopes it will enliven all the "downtime"
and come up for air to watch a baby standing on a table surrounded by 7 of his
closest adoring Japanese relatives.
Princess really has their stuff together. They get us in
and out as efficiently as possible. The customs check is 30 seconds and we're
on our bus out of Yokohama to NARITA airport with as much dispatch as the
streaming masses will admit (and they don't admit to rushing). We're in no rush
anyway. Out 10:10. Arrive NARITA Airport 11:37.
And a final word in favor of Princess--the crew and staff
have been unfailingly congenial, solicitous and efficient. Kudos! Glad we have
stock in Carnival Corp, the parent company. (Besides, we get a $250 onboard
credit on every trip while we hold that
stock. Super.)
I
mmigration's a breeze. Ok it's no Centurion Club gourmet
feast but at the United Club we buy a day pass ($59 per--cheaper than buying a
business class ticket and we've got those great exit row seats anyway) and we've got comfort, wi fi , alcohol (wine)
and "snacks"--a nice consommé, sushi for me, bread cheese--we won't
starve and the lounge is spacious and well-appointed. And then some meats magically
appear. And there are the little cakes. Nope not starving yet. And by 4 pm the
place is teeming and they've added fried chicken. But we're by far too full
now.
At our gate, see bowing Asians--somehow they know the
proper angle (Based on sceniority). Mother behind me. "Don't eat the whole
thing. It's not nice." Food obsessed family. I turn to see. They are fat.
With practice makes . . . well not yet perfect. This time
I know how to plug my iPhone into the planes underseat socket. But haven't yet
figured out how to stow the items necessary for a successful trip. We have the
luxury of great leg stretching room but no under seat storage so the lap has to
carry blanket, book, iPhone. Ear phones when not wearing. Wedge in the
proffered water bottle.
I manage to start working on my Mother play that was
supposed to be a task fulfilled during the cruise. Really??
Then white wine is offered and I'll attempt to relax?
Free flowing dialogue can be liberating, engender ideas. But there's danger
there too. Maybe more of a structure and I can do that at home. Excuses.
My neighbor,
Little Japanesr girl (early twenties I'd say) barefoot feet crunched
comfortably against the protruding exit door. She's got the idea. But neither
Bob nor I fit the profile for that kind of comfort in the exit aisle.
Both Bob and my Japanese neighbor are asleep around me as
a movie OLYMPUS HAS FALLEN finishes. Preposterous fare-- Gerard Butler
singlehandedly saves the world from destruction. It's a rogue Korean who
masterminds an attack on the White House, taking the president hostage and
killing well almost everybody except for Butler's skills with karate, weaponry
and stunt doubles. (Hate to admit--Actually edge of the seat engaging.)
Let's try famous dog of a movie while we're on a roll--BURLESQUE.
Oops. Looks like the director and scriptwriters let down fine talent. It's
Christina Aguilarra who holds up the film but it's not enough; a treacly script
without an original idea in its head goes on for ages. Cher does the Cher
routine. Tough lady with a heart of gold who runs burlesque house she's about
to lose and where Aguilera, the heroine with men trouble, finally performs. And they lip sinc badly to their own singing. A
mess.
Two intrepid travelers finally sitting in Amex Centurion
Lounge at San Francisco airport. Sipping alcohol on leather chairs after going
through hideous customs; though nice to hear all-American
accents. Anticipating
long hiatus between flights but there are decidedly worse ways to decompress
after our ten hour Japan to SFO flight.
It's fun hearing occasional business Men bursting into
conversation with their iPhones. There are three in The immediate vicinity, all
take charge guys. "He seems like he can be managed. Ok. Cool." I've
just caught a 15 minute nap after trying a gourmet piece of meat yummy. That
nap's about as good as I've gotten this long day.
It's a real puddle-jumper I think we used to call them,
our plane to San Diego. The Inflight magazine says it goes about 500 miles per
hour. Looks like it holds about 48 passengers. No wonder there were waiting
lists for flights throughout the day. One crusty, mature flight attendant. Bob
lets me take the window so I can photograph land and sea before and after we've
risen above the clouds. (We're mostly below with little cloud puffs above the
sea as we approach San Diego.)
| Day & Date | Destination | Duration |
|---|---|---|
| Fri, 07/08/16 | Tokyo - Narita | |
| Fri, 07/08/16 | Tokyo (yokohama), Japan View general port information Osanbashi Yokohama Intl Passenger Terminal 1-1kaigan Dori, Naka-Ku, Yokohama, Japan Check In 12:30pm-4:00pm see Travel Summary For progressive Check In Times | – 5:00pm |
| Sat, 07/09/16 | At Sea | |
| Sun, 07/10/16 | Kushiro, Japan Overlooking the mighty Pacific Ocean in northern Japan, it should come as no surprise that this "town of mist" is a major Japanese fishing port. But although the freshly caught seafood served ashore is a highlight for many visitors, Kushiro has so much more to offer! Stroll through Kushiro Fisherman's Wharf MOO, where a variety of coastal restaurants and boutiques delight tourists from all over. Or head inland to explore the natural wonders of this region, such as Kushiro Marsh, a lush national park and home to the country's most extensive marshland. Break out your binoculars for close-up views of the rare and graceful Japanese cranes at Tancho Nature Park. And if you're an architecture enthusiast, you'll be fascinated by the unusual structure of the Kushiro City Museum of Art, which resembles the shape of a Japanese crane spreading its wings.Kushiro's Natural Wonders (Guided in English)KUH-200| Kushiro, Japan | Group Size: 40 
You will see:
  | 7:00am – 2:00pm |
| Mon, 07/11/16 | Shiretoko Peninsula (scenic Cruising), Japan Scenic Cruising | 3:00pm – 6:00pm |
| Tue, 07/12/16 | Korsakov (yuzhno-sakhalinsk), Russia Tender Required wheelchair Access Limited  | 6:00am – 6:00pm |
| Wed, 07/13/16 | Otaru, Japan  TOUR OVERVIEW | 8:00am – 10:00pm |
| Thu, 07/14/16 | Hakodate, Japan  | 12:00pm – 11:00pm |
| Fri, 07/15/16 | Aomori, Japan  | 7:00am – 9:00pm |
| Sat, 07/16/16 | At Sea | |
| Sun, 07/17/16 | Tokyo (yokohama), Japan Osanbashi Yokohama Intl Check In 12:30pm-4:00pm see Travel Summary For progressive Check In Times | 6:00am – 5:00pm |
| Mon, 07/18/16 | Shimizu, Japan  | 7:00am – 4:00pm |
| Tue, 07/19/16 | Kochi, Japan  | 9:00am – 6:00pm |
| Wed, 07/20/16 | Nagasaki, Japan  | 2:00pm – 10:00pm |
| Thu, 07/21/16 | Busan, South Korea  | 9:00am – 6:00pm |
| Fri, 07/22/16 | At Sea | |
| Sat, 07/23/16 | Hakodate, Japan | 7:00am – 11:00pm |
| Sun, 07/24/16 | At Sea | |
| Mon, 07/25/16 | Tokyo (yokohama), Japan  | |
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