Thursday, December 29, 2005
Small Things to Remember (pt 2)
The cruise content was sort of mass produced bland theme park level of talent. There was a large theater on the back of the ship that held all 1000 passengers if they all wanted to come. There were daily shows during the dinner hours, oft repeated for the early diners, sometimes not. The dancers were mediocre, the themes unexciting.
However, there were a few bright little lights -- a juggler with an amusing slant on things, a small male dancer that looked like Peter Pan and pumped out a lot of enthusiasm with his twirls. But mostly, it all was boring, boring, boring. Are we too jaded by the high level of performance we see in movie and tv screens lately? I am convinced that my high school drama club could have put on the equivalent level of entertainment.
We chose a 'themed' cruise. Our themed presentation was put on by a group out of San Jose, CA. Their theme was a 'murder mystery' cruise -- a puzzle to solve.
Our expectation was we would see various vingettes, receive clues and then have to compile the clues and work out a logical solution. Well, that was not their idea. They thought they were organizing little social clubs. The 100 folks subscribing to all this were assigned to one of four crime families. These families had to group together, eat together, and cheer together over 4 of the 7 days of the cruise.
Neither Diana, Larry or I are very social. Our dining table was the way-station for lost souls. Some tried out the theme stuff for a day or so, and then just opted out for sitting in bars and the casino tables.
If you want to meet people, do one of these themed things, else skip it and settle in on your cruise to do the things you like to do to relax.
We were pretty successful as a little competing group for the periodic trivia contests. The three of us have a broad set of facts at our finger tips -- Diana with music and general culture, Larry with sports facts and me with politics, science and medicine. Did you know that a leech has 7 brains? (I dispute this -- I would have said ganglia nodes, but what the hell, eh?)
Diana burned up the single deck black jack casino game in odd moments before or after dinner. She won enough to pay most of her expenses for the trip. She is so like her father in that skill and talent.
Diana was in-charge of organizing our off-ship excursions. We did the beach at the first port of Haiti, did a bus tour of Jamaica, and drove around the flat lands of Grand Cayman island. Diana and Larry walked around Belize City while I faded away into sleep during our last port of call.
Now I am getting around to the small things to remember -- the warm green water on the misty Haiti beach, the smell of wet ferns in Fern Gully in Jamaica, so very tropical, and the rampant commercialism of Grand Cayman.
Most of the residential houses on these islands are built of cinderblocks with a vaneer of stucco. Some have tile roofs, but most have tin or other prefabricated sheets of 'something'. There is a lot of wrought ironery covering windows and gates and fences, not very eye appealing, however. The out-of-town areas remind you of poor rural villages all over the world. Jamaica has a British flavor in the culture and language, and this was interesting to hear.
Our tour bus on Jamaica took us to Walkerwood spice factory where we looked over the business. This is a long established farming commune that grows, processes and markets regional spices and flavorings. There were about 15 of us on the small tour bus, plus our wheelchair.
We drove up into the mountains, there are mountains in Jamaica, famous for their coffee beans, and through the tropical fern forest. When we arrived we heard talks about the work of the commune and the factory, tasted samples of spiced food, walked in the central garden area where sample plants display the source of the spices. We tripped through the gift shop picking up a jar or box here and there to take home. We packed back into the bus.
As the bus left the parking lot, every member of the factory work force, all the tour guides and all the shop assistants were standing as a group on the steps waving us off. It was a touching scene and made us feel welcome. A small thing to remember.
Standing on the balcony of our suite, watching the various tenders huddle along side the ship in Belize harbor, working out which little fleet company was going to get the contract to off load our passengers that day.
Belize was added to our itenerary late because of the damage done to the piers in Cozumel from the hurricanes. Working relationships had not yet been well established between the locals and the cruise line, so it was interesting to see commerce in action as the little boats and their hopeful faced crews line up to be inspected. A small thing to remember.
There was a plastic coated pipe handle curving around from a bracket on the gazebo pillar and down into the inside of the hot tub in the Solarium. On the fourth day, the bracket cracked and the handle worked its way loose, making the trip in and out of the hot tub treacherously dangerous for me. I noticed the broken bracket at about 11am in the morning. I saw the handle was gone at 2pm. The next day at about 9am, I saw two of the crew reattaching the handle.
I surmised that there was a machine shop down in the bowels of the secret crew places capable of doing all sorts of repair work. They probably have a complete set of Popular Science encyclopedias A-to-Z in there, rolls of duct tape and tubes of super glue, too. A small thing to remember.
On the last day, we disembarked, haggled to try to get a bus ride into the Miami airport. Finally, we accepted the generousity of a rent-a-car shuttle bus driver who handled all our luggage and wheelchair paraphernalia. When we pooled the luggage, we saw that one of Diana's suitcases, the one she had borrowed from someone in Larry's family, was shredded, never to be used again. A small thing to remember.
At the airport, when I flopped down into the Delta attendant's wheelchair, I turned to see that Diana had slipped into her wheelchair I had been using the whole trip. I saw ripples of pain working across her face. She was tired, sore and beat. A small thing to remember.
Thank you for the postcard memories. I will shuffle through these mind pictures for the rest of my life, remembering my first cruise trip.
A new set of luggage for Diana winged its way to her for her birthday last week and I am getting my own portable scooter.
However, there were a few bright little lights -- a juggler with an amusing slant on things, a small male dancer that looked like Peter Pan and pumped out a lot of enthusiasm with his twirls. But mostly, it all was boring, boring, boring. Are we too jaded by the high level of performance we see in movie and tv screens lately? I am convinced that my high school drama club could have put on the equivalent level of entertainment.
We chose a 'themed' cruise. Our themed presentation was put on by a group out of San Jose, CA. Their theme was a 'murder mystery' cruise -- a puzzle to solve.
Our expectation was we would see various vingettes, receive clues and then have to compile the clues and work out a logical solution. Well, that was not their idea. They thought they were organizing little social clubs. The 100 folks subscribing to all this were assigned to one of four crime families. These families had to group together, eat together, and cheer together over 4 of the 7 days of the cruise.
Neither Diana, Larry or I are very social. Our dining table was the way-station for lost souls. Some tried out the theme stuff for a day or so, and then just opted out for sitting in bars and the casino tables.
If you want to meet people, do one of these themed things, else skip it and settle in on your cruise to do the things you like to do to relax.
We were pretty successful as a little competing group for the periodic trivia contests. The three of us have a broad set of facts at our finger tips -- Diana with music and general culture, Larry with sports facts and me with politics, science and medicine. Did you know that a leech has 7 brains? (I dispute this -- I would have said ganglia nodes, but what the hell, eh?)
Diana burned up the single deck black jack casino game in odd moments before or after dinner. She won enough to pay most of her expenses for the trip. She is so like her father in that skill and talent.
Diana was in-charge of organizing our off-ship excursions. We did the beach at the first port of Haiti, did a bus tour of Jamaica, and drove around the flat lands of Grand Cayman island. Diana and Larry walked around Belize City while I faded away into sleep during our last port of call.
Now I am getting around to the small things to remember -- the warm green water on the misty Haiti beach, the smell of wet ferns in Fern Gully in Jamaica, so very tropical, and the rampant commercialism of Grand Cayman.
Most of the residential houses on these islands are built of cinderblocks with a vaneer of stucco. Some have tile roofs, but most have tin or other prefabricated sheets of 'something'. There is a lot of wrought ironery covering windows and gates and fences, not very eye appealing, however. The out-of-town areas remind you of poor rural villages all over the world. Jamaica has a British flavor in the culture and language, and this was interesting to hear.
Our tour bus on Jamaica took us to Walkerwood spice factory where we looked over the business. This is a long established farming commune that grows, processes and markets regional spices and flavorings. There were about 15 of us on the small tour bus, plus our wheelchair.
We drove up into the mountains, there are mountains in Jamaica, famous for their coffee beans, and through the tropical fern forest. When we arrived we heard talks about the work of the commune and the factory, tasted samples of spiced food, walked in the central garden area where sample plants display the source of the spices. We tripped through the gift shop picking up a jar or box here and there to take home. We packed back into the bus.
As the bus left the parking lot, every member of the factory work force, all the tour guides and all the shop assistants were standing as a group on the steps waving us off. It was a touching scene and made us feel welcome. A small thing to remember.
Standing on the balcony of our suite, watching the various tenders huddle along side the ship in Belize harbor, working out which little fleet company was going to get the contract to off load our passengers that day.
Belize was added to our itenerary late because of the damage done to the piers in Cozumel from the hurricanes. Working relationships had not yet been well established between the locals and the cruise line, so it was interesting to see commerce in action as the little boats and their hopeful faced crews line up to be inspected. A small thing to remember.
There was a plastic coated pipe handle curving around from a bracket on the gazebo pillar and down into the inside of the hot tub in the Solarium. On the fourth day, the bracket cracked and the handle worked its way loose, making the trip in and out of the hot tub treacherously dangerous for me. I noticed the broken bracket at about 11am in the morning. I saw the handle was gone at 2pm. The next day at about 9am, I saw two of the crew reattaching the handle.
I surmised that there was a machine shop down in the bowels of the secret crew places capable of doing all sorts of repair work. They probably have a complete set of Popular Science encyclopedias A-to-Z in there, rolls of duct tape and tubes of super glue, too. A small thing to remember.
On the last day, we disembarked, haggled to try to get a bus ride into the Miami airport. Finally, we accepted the generousity of a rent-a-car shuttle bus driver who handled all our luggage and wheelchair paraphernalia. When we pooled the luggage, we saw that one of Diana's suitcases, the one she had borrowed from someone in Larry's family, was shredded, never to be used again. A small thing to remember.
At the airport, when I flopped down into the Delta attendant's wheelchair, I turned to see that Diana had slipped into her wheelchair I had been using the whole trip. I saw ripples of pain working across her face. She was tired, sore and beat. A small thing to remember.
Thank you for the postcard memories. I will shuffle through these mind pictures for the rest of my life, remembering my first cruise trip.
A new set of luggage for Diana winged its way to her for her birthday last week and I am getting my own portable scooter.
# posted by Dornar @ 11:28 PM 
