Home Again

In case you haven’t noticed, I haven’t written any posts for a while. Hubby and I went on a 33-day cruise to Hawaii and French Polynesia. Now we are home and in recovery mode. For two or three days, we had sea legs.

So, what was this cruise like? Many of the 930 passengers were elderly and needed walkers, wheelchairs, canes, or another elderly person to hang onto. For example, people kept calling me “young lady.” I am 78 years old! Yes, I felt pretty smug. That all changed when I was leaving the ship for the last time. Based on my perceived speed and mobility, a crew member courteously asked if I needed a wheelchair!

Anyway, it was nice while it lasted!

I have a few belated pointers for some passengers I saw. If you decide to comb your hair, don’t forget to brush the back of it. Make sure the label on your clothing doesn’t stick out. No one cares what size you wear or how to care for your garments. Avoid dyeing your hair solid black or dark brown, and consider fixing your teeth.

One day, I sat beside a man who had an obvious hearing problem in the cafe. After he left, I mistakenly thought he had left his hearing aid behind on the cushion.

Thankfully, I was wrong; it was just a macaroni noodle.

The mere thought that it could have been his hearing aid reveals the condition of many of the passengers, including myself.

After so many days, most people had to do laundry. The ship offered this service, but the cost was exorbitant, so most of us handled our own. Launderettes were located on each deck and featured four washers and four dryers. People were generally considerate of one another. One mystery was the full basket of clothes left on the floor in one launderette for the entire cruise. Did a passenger from a previous cruise forget them?

Not everyone was careful, however. One passenger forgot to remove a sandwich from his pants pocket before loading them into the washer! I never found out what kind of sandwich it was nor did anyone else. After so many spins it was hard to tell. It had lettuce, cheese, strange meat, and miscellaneous condiments.

One guy stood by his washer and kept looking at his watch. He shook his head and said, “I don’t understand it. The timer on the washer says the wash cycle will be completed in 3 minutes, but it keeps spinning.”

“How long has it been?”

“About 20 minutes.”

“Maybe you should turn it off.”

“No. I’m afraid it will interfere with the machine’s cycle.”

“It looks to me like it’s already out of whack”

“Well, I guess I’ll give it a bit longer.”

I left. Do you think he’s still waiting there?

Our favorite dim sum dumplings were available on the ship. However, they lacked the expected flavor—they were quite bland. Hubby spoke to the cook about this and was informed that elderly cruise passengers don’t like spicy food. He said the Norwegian officer responsible for food services made him stick to the standard cruise line recipes. Need I say more?

Hubby set him straight and pointed him in the right direction. In no time, the dim sum was cooked to perfection. From that point forward, the cook, elated by the passengers’ positive reactions, brought dumplings to our table without being asked.

People never cease to amaze me. One woman came to breakfast at the main restaurant barefoot. A waitress hurriedly provided her with a pair of slippers. Another senior, sporting a big beer belly and hairy arms and chest, attended the buffet shirtless! Did he just grab a few items? No, he lingered over each dish, scrutinizing every item of food. It was definitely an appetite suppressor.

One day, Hubby was chatting with a couple who spoke with heavy, difficult-to-follow German accents. He politely asked them where they were from, assuming it was in Germany.

“Houston, Texas.”

“Oh, did you just move there?”

“No we’ve lived there for 37 years.”

So, what does one do each day while cruising 9,000 miles? Hubby would write and attend various lectures when there weren’t shore excursions. We brought paperback copies of our books and donated them to the ship’s library. Hubby’s books rarely stayed on the shelves, and he received a lot of attention.

One passenger informed him that mystery writer John Grisham donated $1 million to her charity fund in Haiti. Would Hubby be interested in contributing? He stated he would be willing to donate an amount relative to Grisham’s donation, based on their respective book sales. Jokingly, he then asked, “Do you have change for a dollar?” She didn’t approach him again.

My books mostly remained on the shelves. I kept moving them to more visible areas, but nothing changed. When I saw someone searching for a book to read, I pointed out the ones I had written. They merely looked at me as if I had dementia. My husband kept teasing me until I became fed up with it.

One day, I told him I had seen several of his books floating by in the Pacific Ocean!

I play bridge and expected many more people to play on this cruise. One lady continually called me Cecilia and my partner John, even though his name was Bob. Yes, we tried to correct her, but after an hour or so, we just gave up and responded to John and Cecilia. After a few days, the players began to form into individual groups. Fortunately, after some initial hits and misses, I found some compatible folks.

So what else did we do? The ship had fantastic spa facilities, including an exercise room, or so I was told. (I accidentally caught a glimpse while heading to the thermal pool and Jacuzzi.) Additionally, there was a snow room, a sauna, a cold plunge, and a bucket of ice-cold water that one could pull a rope to dump over oneself. This Norwegian ship embraced the Scandinavian hot-cold-hot therapy regimen. Hubby enjoyed it daily – not me! I’m still thawing out from growing up in Minnesota!

Most days, around 5 p.m., we would head to the spa on deck one, which also had two upscale restaurants. It wasn’t unusual for others to join us in the elevator as we descended. We would wear our terry cloth robes over swimsuits and sandals.

When others entered the elevator dressed to the nines for an early dinner, they often politely asked if we were heading to the spa. Usually, we would joke and say, “No, we’re going to The Chef’s Table.” They all laughed at that!

Sometimes, to break the routine, as we descended to deck one and the elevator opened to other floors with people waiting to enter, I would quickly flash my robe open and closed. Seeing my bathing suit, they would double over in laughter. Of course, they wouldn’t have laughed if they had seen me naked. They would have asked me to join the shirtless man at the buffet.

Six degrees of separation is the theory that everyone on Earth is connected to every other person through a chain of at most six people. Yes, it has happened to me from time to time.

I was chatting with a guy one day, and lo and behold, he was familiar with where I grew up in Minnesota. His grandfather lived in a nearby county. When they visited, their favorite thing was going to a small bakery in the next county. He said it was the best bakery ever. Had I ever heard of Molstad’s Bakery?

“Of course!” I said. “That was the bakery in my home town. The best!”

I posted this story on Facebook and got many positive responses. The Bismarcks, elephant ears, peanut croquets, doughnuts, etc, and other bakery items I don’t recall, but drool just the same!

We cruised around each of the major Hawaiian Islands. The damage from the fires in Lahaina on Maui was devastating. However, witnessing the still standing big banyan tree was a positive sign. We didn’t see much wildlife—just a whale or two in the distance.

After Hawaii, we headed to French Polynesia. Yes, it is beautiful. It’s also hot and humid, and many people smoke there. I suddenly felt my age, so I mostly sat around and people-watched. I was okay with that.

We couldn’t set foot on Bora Bora. We cruised nearby, but all shore excursions were canceled due to rough seas. A few early-bird passengers attempted to take the tender boat to shore, but after rocking and rolling for several minutes, they returned to the ship looking quite green.

Black pearls are highly sought after in French Polynesia. Identifying a genuine one can be challenging. To distinguish a true black pearl from a counterfeit, we should look for a natural luster with slight iridescence, surface imperfections, and a gritty texture when rubbed against one’s teeth. Imitation pearls tend to appear smooth, uniform, and dull.

The authentic black pearls are costly. The fake ones, not so much. So I ask you, why would I spend thousands of dollars on a rough, imperfect black rock when I can buy a shiny, smooth one for just a few dollars? How many curious sophisticates ask others to feel their gritty black pearl? I could easily rough up a fake one and pass it off as genuine.

Fortunately, the seas during the journey were generally calm. We brought Dramamine and motion sickness patches. After seeing the shirtless man, the sandwich in the dryer, and the ship’s movement, I felt somewhat nauseous.

Dramamine always makes me sleepy, so I chose the patch. I was surprised while reading the directions. Each package contains two small patches. One patch can be placed behind your ear and the other in your navel. (Yes, your belly button!)

The one in the navel is fine if you have an “outie,” but if you have an “innie,” it is difficult to remove. You can leave it in for 72 hours. After spending hours in the thermal pool and Jacuzzi, that patch wouldn’t budge. I had to resort to asking Hubby for help to remove it. AARGH! If it’s not one thing, it’s another. In the future, if needed, I will put the patch behind my other ear and hope for the best.

On second thought, I may just stay home!

Are you an ocean or river cruiser? Do you get seasick when you are on the water? Your comments are welcomed and appreciated.