By Nick, in which Juli sets foot on US soil for the first time, we both set foot on Canadian soil for the first time and drink our last complementary bottle of Champagne (plus some others) as we embark on the fifth and final leg of our cruise.
Charleston, SC
Breakfast in Horizons today did not have the same quiet calm of previous visits. I’ve mentioned before, I think, that Horizons is a popular breakfast spot for officers, as it’s handy for the bridge, and this morning was no exception to that. However, many of the officers had come, not to eat, but to check up on other staff and ensure everything was spotless. In fact, several items of equipment had been removed and people were busily cleaning what was left as well as every single surface to within an inch of its life.
Apparently, the US food safety and hygiene officials always make ‘surprise’ visits when the ship is in a US port, and, because no one on board ever knows which port it will take place, no chances were being taken. We were told that the ship must reach a score of at least 70%, or no passengers would be allowed off, though several of the crew – including these anxious officers – would be put off by the cruise line to seek employment elsewhere.
[We learned later that the ship never scores less than 95%, and this time – the inspection did in deed take place while we were ashore today – they scored 96%.]
After breakfast, we met up again with Georg and Barbara. Georg, who has internet access while on the ship, had found a guided walking tour of the city of Charleston, South Carolina, where we were today. Incidentally, Charleston was originally named ‘Charle’s Town’ after a grateful King Charles II, who gave a whole swathe of America to the group of powerful grandees who brought him back to England from exile in France after Oliver Cromwell died.
The tour wasn’t due to start until mid morning, which gave us time for a quick look around the market near the pier. Apparently, it used to be a traditional food market until relatively recently. Now it sells all manner of arts and crafts plus every other kind of souvenir you can imagine. These include (very expensive) hand-woven grass baskets, made by descendants of slaves brought over from a particular region of Africa (equivalent to modern day Angola) with a similar climate to South Carolina. Apart from their considerable skill with baskets – we were told these baskets are so tightly woven they can hold water – these slaves were selected because they had particular knowledge relating to the growing of rice, which became an important crop for the area.
We were told these things and other fascinating facts by our guide, a 13th generation Charlestonian woman, who walked us round her beautiful city and explained some the things we saw as we went. For instance, Charleston is also known as the Holy City. This relates partly to the great many churches here (Charleston is not a high-rise city, and their spires are a dominant feature of its skyline) but also to the many different flavours of Christian and non-Christian worship represented. Apparently, religious tolerance was written into the city’s guiding principles even before its founding fathers left England for the new world. This accounts for why, among the first settlers, there were a great many Huguenots, Protestants from Catholic France who came to England after suffering terrible persecution in their own country.
Charleston has experienced many periods of destruction and subsequent rebuilding. These have come as a result of both man-made disasters, including the war of independence and the American civil war, which is said to have started in Charleston (Charleston only fell to unionists after a sustained bombardment of something like 575 days) and natural disasters, including earthquakes (Charleston is on the second largest fault line in the states) and, of course, Hurricanes.
We had a wonderful time wandering along charming old street looking at many lovely buildings and photographing them. Our tour ended in the courtyard of our excellent guide’s mother’s house. Now run as a B&B, its oldest part dates back to 1740, which in American terms is practically pre-historic.
We spent the rest of the day ensconced in a bakery/cafe (with mercifully speedy Wi-fi) drinking coffee, eating delicious sandwiches and cakes, plus sending and receiving e-mails, uploading hundreds of photos of the Caribbean and publishing Juli’s blog post. Back on board, we had dinner in our room and watched ‘The Help’. (Recommended, by the way.)
Dinner tonight was in Red Ginger with Georg and Barbara, after drinks in their room, where we helped them finish off another of their complementary bottles of Champagne. We’re good like that.
[Clocks forward half an hour.]
Corner Brook, Newfoundland
Another cold and misty morning. Juli suggested having breakfast somewhere a little warmer today, so we went down to the Grand Dining Room, which was doing a roaring trade.
Although the port of Corner Brook is not a big nor busy place, the town laid on a shuttle bus to take passengers and crew into the centre via a couple of large shopping malls. Quite a shrewd move on the town’s part, as a) that’s how many (if not most) passengers seem to want to fill their time ashore, and b) they mostly wouldn’t have had the wit to find them on their own. We’re not big shoppers, though you might not agree if you could see the size of our souvee bag now, so we stayed on the bus until it brought us to one end of the town centre to see what we could see.
Corner Brook is a nice little town. Pretty quite most of the time, I should imagine, to the point of maybe learning a little too closely to the dead end of the spectrum. Indeed, we saw quite a few shops that had closed or were closing as we walked through town. No doubt the out of town shopping centres have had something to do with that. Many of the shops and other places of interest that were open had made an effort to capitalise on the ship’s visit by putting up ‘Welcome Marina’ type signs or advertising cruise specials, etc., and the town hall (they call it City Hall, but I’d say that was stretching it a bit) was playing host to a number of small craft workers and their stalls. Some local ladies had opened the church (again, they say cathedral, but, you know, really?) and one of them was playing hymns on the piano, which was nice. So too was the church – sorry, cathedral – actually.
We did quite a bit of wandering before settling on a small cafe to warm ourselves around large mugs of hot chocolate and to use their free Wi-fi. Unfortunately, the speed wasn’t great (and they had no soup on today) so we moved on from there, back to City Hall, next to which is the public library. That had excellent Wi-fi, and we were able to upload loads of photos we’d taken in The States, which is going to make publishing this post a lot quicker when we get to Ireland.
After that, it was back to the port to spend our last dollars on thick woolly socks, then back on board for tea and telly. Dinner tonight was in Toscana, our last reservation there. Juli chose very sensibly, but I went for one of their huge veal chops and still managed to force down an over-sized Tiramisu. Boy, am I going to regret that in the morning.
Incidentally, now that the days are getting longer (sunset tonight wasn’t until well after nine o’clock we had hope to see something of the Bay of Islands as we sailed away from Corner Brook. Unfortunately, the fog closed right in again, meaning foghorns all night again, but also scarcely a peek at anything as we cruised through what should have been stunning scenery. We were lucky enough to get one glimpse though as the fog lifted for just a minute or two, and I managed to grab the following, which sort of made up for it… a bit.
Day 1 (of 4)
Woke really early today. Probably a combination of too much good food in my belly and another night-long foghorn fest. Juli slept late though – apparently she’d had a restless night too – so we didn’t go for our breakfast (in Horizons) until after ten, by which time the needle-point/coffee morning crew were in full swing. Juli decided she might as well grab another sewing kit while she was there so she’d have something to do during this long stretch of sea days. I don’t imagine it’ll keep her occupied for long however: this is her fifth kit.
Spent most of the rest of the day doing word and number puzzles thoughtfully provided by the ship, catching up on the blog and watching films on TV and DVDs. After Tea, we opened the last of the bottles of Australian wine we brought on board with us, before going down to dinner in the Grand Dining Room, which was heaving. Still very foggy.
[Clocks forward half an hour tonight.]
Back in our room, I read while Juli sewed. Soon it was time to dress for dinner (in the Grand Dining Room) but not before popping into the Oceania Club Ambassador's office (just before closing time) to ask about our bronze badges again. She couldn’t understand why we hadn’t had them, then checked their records and discovered that we had some how been demoted by their computer system. (Damn computers.) She apologised as she gave me our long waited for pins, adding that she would be sure to tear someone back at head office off a strip for this. Bit over the top for a small, easily resolved admin error, I thought, but it occurred to me later that this is the sort of thing seasoned complainers become indignant or even irate over and try to leverage some advantage through. She’s probably used to that, and was attempting to show me how seriously she took the matter. All a bit too Machiavellian for me.
We made it back to our room in time to watch The Hobbit on TV. You may remember we saw it with Juli’s relatives in Robina when we stayed with them over Christmas and New Year. That was in 3D on an Imax screen and this wasn’t, but it was still worth a second viewing. Feel more likely to see the second and third episodes now.
[Clocks forward another hour tonight.]
So, where are we now? We’ve made it all the way across the Atlantic - not so bumpy as we feared - to Cohb (pronounced ‘Cove’) the Port of Cork, Ireland, nearly at the end of our voyage home and, therefore, nearly at the end of our travels (for now).
However, we still have a few ports of call before disembarking at Southampton, after which we have to close our 360 in 360 loop in Hove and then we have to get back to Hammersmith in time to celebrate the completion of our year in the place where it all began. But, as I’ve written many times before, more on all (or some) of that next time.
TTFN - N
[Click here for more photos from the North Atlantic.]
Days 342-346 (United States of America)
Charleston, SCBreakfast in Horizons today did not have the same quiet calm of previous visits. I’ve mentioned before, I think, that Horizons is a popular breakfast spot for officers, as it’s handy for the bridge, and this morning was no exception to that. However, many of the officers had come, not to eat, but to check up on other staff and ensure everything was spotless. In fact, several items of equipment had been removed and people were busily cleaning what was left as well as every single surface to within an inch of its life.
Apparently, the US food safety and hygiene officials always make ‘surprise’ visits when the ship is in a US port, and, because no one on board ever knows which port it will take place, no chances were being taken. We were told that the ship must reach a score of at least 70%, or no passengers would be allowed off, though several of the crew – including these anxious officers – would be put off by the cruise line to seek employment elsewhere.
[We learned later that the ship never scores less than 95%, and this time – the inspection did in deed take place while we were ashore today – they scored 96%.]
After breakfast, we met up again with Georg and Barbara. Georg, who has internet access while on the ship, had found a guided walking tour of the city of Charleston, South Carolina, where we were today. Incidentally, Charleston was originally named ‘Charle’s Town’ after a grateful King Charles II, who gave a whole swathe of America to the group of powerful grandees who brought him back to England from exile in France after Oliver Cromwell died.
The tour wasn’t due to start until mid morning, which gave us time for a quick look around the market near the pier. Apparently, it used to be a traditional food market until relatively recently. Now it sells all manner of arts and crafts plus every other kind of souvenir you can imagine. These include (very expensive) hand-woven grass baskets, made by descendants of slaves brought over from a particular region of Africa (equivalent to modern day Angola) with a similar climate to South Carolina. Apart from their considerable skill with baskets – we were told these baskets are so tightly woven they can hold water – these slaves were selected because they had particular knowledge relating to the growing of rice, which became an important crop for the area.
We were told these things and other fascinating facts by our guide, a 13th generation Charlestonian woman, who walked us round her beautiful city and explained some the things we saw as we went. For instance, Charleston is also known as the Holy City. This relates partly to the great many churches here (Charleston is not a high-rise city, and their spires are a dominant feature of its skyline) but also to the many different flavours of Christian and non-Christian worship represented. Apparently, religious tolerance was written into the city’s guiding principles even before its founding fathers left England for the new world. This accounts for why, among the first settlers, there were a great many Huguenots, Protestants from Catholic France who came to England after suffering terrible persecution in their own country.
Charleston has experienced many periods of destruction and subsequent rebuilding. These have come as a result of both man-made disasters, including the war of independence and the American civil war, which is said to have started in Charleston (Charleston only fell to unionists after a sustained bombardment of something like 575 days) and natural disasters, including earthquakes (Charleston is on the second largest fault line in the states) and, of course, Hurricanes.
We had a wonderful time wandering along charming old street looking at many lovely buildings and photographing them. Our tour ended in the courtyard of our excellent guide’s mother’s house. Now run as a B&B, its oldest part dates back to 1740, which in American terms is practically pre-historic.
We spent the rest of the day ensconced in a bakery/cafe (with mercifully speedy Wi-fi) drinking coffee, eating delicious sandwiches and cakes, plus sending and receiving e-mails, uploading hundreds of photos of the Caribbean and publishing Juli’s blog post. Back on board, we had dinner in our room and watched ‘The Help’. (Recommended, by the way.)
 |
| Us plus Georg and Barbara |
***
Cruising up the Eastern Seaboard
Sea day today and the final run of NHS Couch to 5K podcast for week 7 (1 x 25’). That was followed by breakfast in the Grand Dining Room, Laundry and completing a US Customs and Border Protection form ready for New York tomorrow. Even though we’re transiting through New York, we still have to disembark like everyone else who’s cruise finishes there, except that we have to do it between 8.00 and 9.00 or risk a fine.
Sea day today and the final run of NHS Couch to 5K podcast for week 7 (1 x 25’). That was followed by breakfast in the Grand Dining Room, Laundry and completing a US Customs and Border Protection form ready for New York tomorrow. Even though we’re transiting through New York, we still have to disembark like everyone else who’s cruise finishes there, except that we have to do it between 8.00 and 9.00 or risk a fine.
We were hoping to find a walking tour route for New York similar to the one we did in Cartagena, but searched the ship’s library, which has a few travel books, with out successes. Destination, the people who organise shore extortions… excuse me… excursions, only had an Italian version of the USA Lonely Planet, so, as a last resort (because we knew how busy he’d be the day before disembarkation) Juli went to see if William, our Concierge, could help find something online for us.
We decided to skip lunch in favour of Tea Time, and contacted Georg and Barbara to see if they fancied it too. They did, so after watching a bit of TV, we met up in Horizons to compare notes on New York. They’ve been several times before so have already seen the classic landmarks we wanted to visit, but they were able to give us some useful tips and pointers.
While all that was going on, we had their donated bottle of free Champagne chilling in an ice bucket back in our room.
[Not sure if Juli mentioned this in her post, but when we went for pre-dinner drinks in their room the other day, George and Barbara gave us their most recent complementary bottle of Champagne, as they don’t drink the stuff. (I know: weird or what?)]
It seemed only fair, since we were about to drink their Champagne, to return their invitation, but obviously with the promise of something else to drink for them. Fortunately, they’re G&T drinkers – something we also have plenty of – so, after tea, they came back to our room for more refreshment, and we introduced them to our custom of toasting the full moon.
After dinner (in Jacques) we came back to find a large envelope outside our room. In it were pages and page of maps, a route and loads of information about sights to see in New York that had been compiled by William, our Concierge. We’re really going to miss him when he goes upstairs to the Executive Concierge Lounge (for passengers in Suites) next cruise.
***
New York, NY
I’d set my alarm for 04:30 so as not to miss the ship’s entrance to New York, and, most importantly, the Statue of Liberty. We’d dressed warmly, but not warmly enough, as it turned out, so I had to go back to our room for more layers against the cold: it was freezing; quite a shock to the system after the Caribbean and South Carolina.
I’d set my alarm for 04:30 so as not to miss the ship’s entrance to New York, and, most importantly, the Statue of Liberty. We’d dressed warmly, but not warmly enough, as it turned out, so I had to go back to our room for more layers against the cold: it was freezing; quite a shock to the system after the Caribbean and South Carolina.
After our first look at the new World Trade Centre tower, which we passed just as the day was dawning, we berthed way up the Hudson River at pier 90, just north of the pier that’s now home to one of the old Concords – dwarfed by the adjacent old aircraft carrier – almost level with the southern end of Central Park.
We weren’t going to be allowed off the ship until it had been cleared by US customs, so we had plenty of time for breakfast. Juli was so cold that she cut along early to warm her hands on pot of tea. I must admit, I was very glad of my hot chocolate when it came.
After breakfast, we waited with the other passengers to be told we could go ashore. We waited… and waited… and waited. There were announcements telling us that the ship still had NOT been cleared and thanking us for our patience, but nothing to say those of us in-transit could disembark. As I mentioned, our instruction were very clear: we had to go through customs before 9.00am or be fined, and it was now ten minutes to 9.00. So I went to the reception desk to ask them what we should do. Their answer was that we could have gotten off at any time after 8.00. We’d been waiting for nearly an hour for no good reason other than no one had said we could go. (Grrr.)
I collected Juli, who was chatting with a very nice Aussie couple who have a business supplying Turkish cotton towels to Australia, New Zealand and the UK, and rushed her to the gangway. Actually, ‘rushed’ is somewhat overstating it, since we first had to negotiate a crowd of disembarking passengers and their hand luggage, who seemed a bit peeved that we were pushing ahead of them.
We made the 9.00am deadline (just) and found the process to be very quick and easy. Not like the horror stories of having to wait in endless lines at US airports we’d heard about. We heard later that other transit passengers who’d missed their 8.00 ‘til 9.00am window weren’t in fact fined but had to wait inline with everyone else and didn’t clear customs for another hour.
We passed through a deserted customs hall, down an escalator and then, finally, we were in New York! So many songs, so many films, so many clichés, and now we were actually there ourselves.
We walked miles and miles and miles.
First east on 51st street across the top of Times Square, past Radio City, past Rockefeller Plaza to St. Patrick’s Cathedral, which is currently undergoing a major restoration. From there we walked south down 5th Avenue, to 42nd Street and the City Library with glimpses of the Empire State Building beyond. Then east again (along 42nd street) across Madison Avenue to Grand Central Station (wow) then on to the Chrysler Building (Wow) and on again to the East River and the UN Building. (Also a wow, but not because of the building: more because of what goes on inside it, though not on Memorial Day weekend. They weren’t even flying any flags.)
From there we walked back to 5th Avenue and headed south again towards the Empire State Building. (At some stage we walked past the News Building, which has an enormous globe in its foyer. I’d say about 4 metres across? Anyway, according to the security guard, it’s the largest in New York.) We didn’t have time to wait to go up the Empire State Building, but instead pressed on down 5th Avenue (no shopping) to Madison Square Park, where we had lunch (hot dogs, of course) and took photos of the Flat Iron Building.
From Madison Square Park, we walked south on Broadway via City Hall and Union Square towards the Ground Zero memorial and the new World Trade Centre tower. Just before we got there, we stopped off at St. Paul’s church were many of the 9/11 victims are remembered and where rescuers came to rest and pray. Again we didn’t have time to queue to see the memorial, which was packed on this memorial weekend Sunday, but we did see the new tower (a single tower to replace the twin towers) which has been named the Freedom tower and is nearly finished. On top of the tower is a very tall mast carrying clusters of cell phone antennae and other comms equipment at various intervals up it’s height, which gives it a shape that reminds me very much of a minaret.
From there, we took a taxi (a yellow cab, of course) all the way back to Times Square, which was heaving and all a bit too frantic for us, so we walked north on 7th Avenue towards Central Park. On the way we stopped of at a deli and ate New York style cheesecake.
Continuing up 7th Avenue, passing Carnegie Hall as we did, we came at last to the middle of the south end of Central Park. Central Park is huge and we knew we couldn’t possibly explore it all, particularly having already walked the length and breadth of mid-town and lower Manhattan. However, we did manage a quick turn along some of the paths, over and under some of the bridges, past the baseball parks and playgrounds and the funfair and clambered over some of the rocky out crops and walked past at least one lake, finally re-emerging at the south-west corner, by Christopher Columbus Circle. (Phew.)
From there we walked back to the ship, which we got to just as what would have been our 8th Passenger Safety and Emergency drill was finishing. We said hello and sorry to the new General Manager and climbed back up to our room, utterly exhausted. However, our spirits were very much lifted when who should we see in our corridor but Madi, our old Stateroom Attendant from Romanian, who disembarked at Lima, back again already to start another contract. Unfortunately, it seems she’s not come back to our section, so we’ll have to continue to put up with our new attendant, who, though competent enough, just isn’t Madi.
Ignoring the waiting complementary bottle of Champagne chilling in its ice bucket, we opted instead for a pot of tea or two until it was time to go down for dinner in the Grand Dinning Room as the ship sailed away. Through the window, we saw that Liberty was still there, lighting our way with her torch, although, on our side of the glass, many of our favourite waiters were not, having ended their contracts in New York.
***
Cruising the Bay of Maine
Another sea day. After our Manhattan Marathon yesterday, we were pleased to have the chance of a lie-in, and took full advantage of the opportunity. Having missed breakfast, I got another run under my belt – #1 of week 8 (1 x 28’) – while Juli checked through her photos. 900, from which she’s kept 500.
Another sea day. After our Manhattan Marathon yesterday, we were pleased to have the chance of a lie-in, and took full advantage of the opportunity. Having missed breakfast, I got another run under my belt – #1 of week 8 (1 x 28’) – while Juli checked through her photos. 900, from which she’s kept 500.
After lunch in the Grand Dining Room, we came back to find an envelope containing another invite to dinner in Privée, this time from the new general manager. Unexpected and a bit enigmatic. Maybe an extra thank you for passengers on back-to-back (double) Grand Voyages? (We now know there are four such couples.)
Tonight we went down to dinner early in time to catch the end of the Captains ‘Welcome’ cocktail party. (That way you miss the speeches, but still get the free drinks.) Georg and Barbara where there too, so naturally (perhaps a bit gauchely) we asked them if they had had their invite to Privée too, but no. They have just moved cabins, so maybe it’s got lost in the post. Keen to get to the bottom of the mystery, once dinner in the Polo Grill was over (after which I felt massively over extended - still had pudding, though) we went to ask our spies on Reception what they knew about this General Manager’s dinner. Not specifically a b2b GV group, though one of the other couples attending are, and no other obvious reason, and no Georg and Barbara either. We’ll just have to wait and see.
***
Bar Harbour, Maine
Juli was up all night, and not in a good way, so decided to take the day off and stay in bed, just a short trot from the bathroom door, if you take my meaning. My mission today, therefore, was to take photos for both of us.
Juli was up all night, and not in a good way, so decided to take the day off and stay in bed, just a short trot from the bathroom door, if you take my meaning. My mission today, therefore, was to take photos for both of us.
Leaving Juli behind, and after a quick breakfast, I met up with Georg and Barbara, with whom we had made a plan to hire a car again to explore Arcadia National Park together. However, when we get ashore (by tender today) there were no car hire companies in town. We could have got a taxi to the airport and hired one there, but that would have been a $60 round trip plus the cost of the car hire. So, we asked a handy tour guide, who was waiting to collect some other passengers who had pre-booked a tour with her (sensible fellows) what we should do. She suggested the Olie Trolley.
The Olie Trolley is a small coach built to look like an old fashioned trolley car (tram). It takes groups of tourists round the national park, stops for photos and gives passengers a running commentary. The only problem was that the tour wasn’t until 10.00am, which was an hour and a half way and the booking office wasn’t yet open. I volunteered to wait in line (queue – do you like how I’m slipping in these little Americanisms? – you bet!) while Georg and Barbara went for a look round the town. When the office opened, they informed me that the 10.00am tour was fully booked and that the next tour wasn’t until 11.30am, and would I mind waiting while they setup. Meantime, George and Barbara returned and told me they had found an alternative tour in an old school bus, with the same itinerary, for the same price, also leaving at 10.00, but with spaces. So, while Olie was waking up, we booked onto the other tour. Bad luck, Olie.
We just had time before our tour started to follow a short way-marked path along the shore and back to the pier through town. This gave us the chance to see some of the very grand waterfront hotels the Island has, some of which were originally huge private residences, and to have a look at some of the many boutique-y shops along this charming town’s main shopping street. The big thing in Bar Harbour is Lobster. Lobster to eat, of course, but also every kind of lobster inspired decorative item for your walls plus lobster shaped souvenirs for your shelves, bodies and fridge.
At ten o’clock sharp, the school bus with us on board drove out of town and headed for Arcadia National Park, formed mostly from land donated by some of the wealthiest families in American. Names you will know, such as Ford, Rockefeller and Vanderbilt, plus those of other families you may not recognise (and I can’t remember) behind such famous brand names as Campbell's Soup. (No, the family wasn’t called Campbell. Answers on a postcard please.)
The park’s loop road (27 miles long) passes through some lovely stretches of forest. Some softwood, mostly spruce and aspen, but also hardwood trees such as oak, ash and larch. There was a terrible bush fire in the park in 1947 (there had been others before) that began a cycle of growth that starts with these hardwood species establishing themselves immediately after the fire when conditions were not yet right for the softwood trees. However, once the hardwoods had begun to grow up and create shade, the softwood tree seeds were able to germinate. These have now started to grow up towards the hardwood’s canopy, and will, in time, grow taller. Then, once they have out-grown the hardwood trees, turning the soil acid with their pine needles in the process, the hardwoods will recede and the softwoods will again dominate. Until, that is, the next terrible fire and so on and so on.
One of our first photo ops was a beach made of ground shells and pink granite sand that featured in the film ‘Cider House Rules’. Another was Jordan Pond (more of a lake really) which features two adjacent, nicely rounded hills at one end that are called the Bubbles, but (inevitably) are known as the Boobies, so I can say I’ve seen Jordan’s Boobies, but then again…
The highlight of the trip round the park is the drive up to the top of Cadillac Mountain. At 1,600 feet, it’s not much of a mountain, but despite that, it’s the highest mountain on the entire eastern seaboard of the United States and the first point in the US to receive the light of the rising sun each day for most of the year. Normally it’s really misty though and you can’t see very far from the top, but today we were treated to some excellent weather and were able to see for miles and miles, out over all the little islands off the coast of Maine. I’d have to say that this view alone was worth the price of the ticket.
Back in town, I grabbed a quick take-away pot of lobster stew for me and a lobster roll (classic Maine fair) for Juli before saying ‘auf wiedersehen’ to Georg and Barbara and heading back to the ship. I was glad to find Juli was not only out of bed but dressed and feeling a bit better too, though not keen to push her luck with the lobster roll.
After a rest before showing Juli my photos (approved) we ordered room service and watched Cider House Rules on DVD, which Georg and Barbara had borrowed for themselves, but lent to us to watch first when we told them we wouldn’t be going down for dinner that evening. If you haven’t seen it for a while (or have never seen it) do take it out, it’s lovely.
Days 347-352 (Canada)
Halifax, Nova Scotia
Up before 7.00am to fit in run #2 of week8 (1 x 28’) before going ashore at our first (of five) Canadian port of call. Halifax is (was) the nearest port to the scene of the Titanic disaster, the centenary of which was just last year. We’d been to the maritime museum in Belfast, where Titanic was built and launched, and were keen to learn more about the other end of her short life at the excellent maritime museum here.
Up before 7.00am to fit in run #2 of week8 (1 x 28’) before going ashore at our first (of five) Canadian port of call. Halifax is (was) the nearest port to the scene of the Titanic disaster, the centenary of which was just last year. We’d been to the maritime museum in Belfast, where Titanic was built and launched, and were keen to learn more about the other end of her short life at the excellent maritime museum here.
Although the 700 or so survivors of the disaster were carried on to New York (to where the Titanic had been bound) by the Carpathia, the ship that rescued them, the search for bodies (given the icy waters, there was never any expectation of finding further survivors in the ocean) was coordinated from Halifax. And it was back to Halifax that the bodies, or rather those that were not buried at sea, were brought—just 330 of them. Some were claimed by families and returned to their home countries. But those that were not, were buried according to their faith (as best as could be determined) in three cemeteries in the town: one for Catholics, one for Jews and a third for Protestants. We took a bus to visit the last of these three, where we saw three rows of mostly simple head stones. Some with names, many without, but all bearing the same date: April 15, 1912.
At the other end of town, close to where our ship was docked, is the Pier 21 Immigration museum. Like the one in Melbourne we visited, it tells some of the stories of more than a million people who came to start a new life in Canada after the second world war. Most (more than half) where from Britain, but the list of nationalities identified about two dozen (mostly European) countries from where those seeking political or economic refuge came.
Just time for a quick bit of shopping (beer from the Garrison Micro Brewery by our ships pier) before re-boarding in time for tea in Horizons. Mind you, that was only after we managed to get through security without our passports, which the ship had kept, insisting we wouldn’t need them.
After tea, I blogged a bit while Juli read until it was time for dinner in the Grand Dining Room with George and Barbara, where we compare notes on Halifax and learned the German for bagpipes. (‘Dudelsack’ in case you’re interested. Bound to come in handy one day. At a railway station perhaps? “Enshuldigen, mein Herr. Ich habe mein dudelsack verlossen.”)
***
Sydney, Nova Scotia
Up until today, we’d had an excellent run of fine weather. Often arriving at ports to be thanked for bringing good weather with us and their run of rainy days. Not so in Sydney, named before the other more famous one, by the way, but after the same British Governor General, interestingly.
Up until today, we’d had an excellent run of fine weather. Often arriving at ports to be thanked for bringing good weather with us and their run of rainy days. Not so in Sydney, named before the other more famous one, by the way, but after the same British Governor General, interestingly.
What to do in a not particularly interesting town on a rainy day? We'll, we had a wander round some old houses at the historic end of town (and took some rather grey photos of them) then looked round a few shops at the other end of town before settling into a cafe with Wi-fi and warming our hands round a mug of hot chocolate or two, which turned out to be very much better than the Wi-fi. I had another go at getting on-line back at the pier building (next to the ‘Big Céilidh Fiddle’) but with so many others trying to do the same thing, I had no better luck there.
Same problem getting back on the ship without a passport as yesterday, so think we’re going to have to insist on having them returned, followed by a rest before tea with Barbara. (George was still resting.)
Tonight we had our second visit to Privée, this time at the invitation of the new General Manager plus the Head of House Keeping. I’m still not really sure why we nor any of the other three couples were invited, but the food was as good as always, even if the conversation wasn’t. A bit too much competitive cruising chit-chat for our liking. And you’re sort of stuck with whomever you’re sat next to. This is because the very grand dining table is so large you can only really hold a conversation with that one person. I was all right, as I’d been sat next to the Head of Housekeeping who was really interesting to talk to. But the guy next to poor old Juli was rather full of himself and keen to hog the limelight. He even made a point of not taking a menu, as he’d been to all these restaurants so many times he knew it off by heart. Hey ho.
[Clocks back one hour tonight.]
***
Cruising the Gulf of St. Lawrence
We woke up rather late and had quite a long lie-in today; for some reason I in particular was rather tired this morning despite gaining an hour last night. Perhaps it was the foghorn going off at irregular intervals through out the night. Anyway, whatever the reason, I didn’t make it to the gym for my run before breakfast, so went instead at lunchtime in the hope that I’d get a machine then, as the gym is always busy on a sea day. There were none free when I got there, but, fortunately, one came free just as I passed it. (Run #3 of week 8 – 1 x 28’.)
We woke up rather late and had quite a long lie-in today; for some reason I in particular was rather tired this morning despite gaining an hour last night. Perhaps it was the foghorn going off at irregular intervals through out the night. Anyway, whatever the reason, I didn’t make it to the gym for my run before breakfast, so went instead at lunchtime in the hope that I’d get a machine then, as the gym is always busy on a sea day. There were none free when I got there, but, fortunately, one came free just as I passed it. (Run #3 of week 8 – 1 x 28’.)
By contrast, the pool deck was deserted when I finished, which was a shame for the Eugene Band, who were playing their hearts out to an audience of literally zero, apart from a handful of people who, like myself, were only passing through. I stayed and listened to their scorching rendition of Hello Dolly, and rather startled them, I think, by clapping my appreciation when they finished.
The weather today was still a bit foggy, which meant we only got occasional glimpses of shoreline. It was also a bit chilly, which was good for us, as it helps to re-acclimatise us to UK weather. Mind you, we’re told to expect high twenties Celsius for Quebec City tomorrow.
Most of the day was spent blogging or reading while waiting for the laundry to wash and dry then ironing. Teatime today was another of their specials (today’s theme was cheesecake) dinner was in the Grand Dining Room (early with Georg and Barbara) followed by ‘The Green Lantern’ on DVD and another night of foghorns.
***
Quebec City, Quebec
It was still very foggy when we arrived at the pier. Quebec means ‘where the river narrows’ but we still couldn’t see clearly to the other side of the St. Lawrence from our portside cabin, which, confusingly, was on the opposite side to the port. From Waves Grill, which is on the starboard side, so closest to the port – I know, but stick with this – we had an excellent view of the city as we ate our breakfast.
It was still very foggy when we arrived at the pier. Quebec means ‘where the river narrows’ but we still couldn’t see clearly to the other side of the St. Lawrence from our portside cabin, which, confusingly, was on the opposite side to the port. From Waves Grill, which is on the starboard side, so closest to the port – I know, but stick with this – we had an excellent view of the city as we ate our breakfast.
Quebec, a UNESCO world heritage site and the only intact walled city in North America, is arranged over two levels, known simply as Upper Town and Lower Town. After walking round the very European feeling Lower Town, full of smart shops and old stone buildings, we went up to Upper Town. We could have taken the funicular, but instead, we climbed the 340 steps up to the Citadel, an impressive, star-shaped fortress built by the British after the 1812 war. It’s now home to the Royal 22nd Regiment, the only francophone regiment in the Canadian Forces – you’re not even supposed to say their name in English – and the second home of the Governor General, the Queen’s representative in Canada. We took a tour of his Excellency’s residence. He wasn’t home. I wouldn’t have been either, if I lived there. Apparently it was designed to look and feel like the city in which it sits: cold and grey. I’d say they did a good job.
After a bit more walking, we stopped for lunch in a little bistro that was advertising Poutine. We’d been told that Poutine was the thing to eat when in Quebec. It’s supposed to be a local staple, if not exactly a delicacy. It might help to keep out the cold, I suppose, but basically, it’s just cheesy chips with gravy.
The weather hadn’t really improved since we docked, raining on an off all morning, so we spent quite a bit of time ducking in and out of buildings. We visited three churches including the Roman Catholic and Anglican Cathedrals, the later being the only public building (other than government offices) with anything other than French signage. Canada is supposed to be a bilingual country. Well not in Quebec. Apparently, Quebec airport is the only air traffic control tower, IN THE WORLD, that speaks French instead of English. Did you know that the French refused to accept the Greenwich Meridian as the prime meridian for several years even after the whole of the rest of the world had done so. Do you know how much it costs, every year, to move the entire European Parliament from Luxembourg to France and back again because the French insists it should? Quebec is very French.
Back on board I watched some TV and snoozed while Juli went back into the city for more. She did a little souvenir shopping and visited the museum of civilisation. “The Museum of Civilisation.” Wow! That’s quite a claim isn’t it?
Neither of us felt much like dressing up for dinner tonight, so we stayed in and ordered room service. Hitchcock was playing for the last time on TV – somehow we’ve managed to miss it several times before – so we tuned in to watch that. 15 minutes in, something went wrong with the system and it suddenly jumped to 15 minutes from the end. So that was that.
[Clocks forward one hour tonight.]
***
Cruising back along the St Lawrence to Newfoundland
Blogging and TV for most of another cold, grey and wet day at sea, but it started with a milestone event. Today, after a 5 minute warm-up, I ran continuously for half an hour and covered a distance of 3 miles or 5 kilometres. I have officially made it from Couch to 5K, and to think that today was going to be another rest day. I just decided to run.
Blogging and TV for most of another cold, grey and wet day at sea, but it started with a milestone event. Today, after a 5 minute warm-up, I ran continuously for half an hour and covered a distance of 3 miles or 5 kilometres. I have officially made it from Couch to 5K, and to think that today was going to be another rest day. I just decided to run.
The music in the gym was perfect. It started with 5 minutes of David Bowie (China Girl) and ended with 5 minutes of The Police (Synchronicity). In between came a ska/two-tone version of Tears of a Clown, a really great Rockabilly song I didn’t recognise and Le Freak (by Le Freak) and many more classic tunes. So today’s competition is this: what would be your top ten tunes to keep on running?
To celebrate, I ordered a full-on English fry up in the Waves Grill for breakfast, and then nearly banjaxed the whole thing when the top came off the salt cellar. Waves is outside, and we almost had the place to ourselves, it was so cold. But I didn’t notice it, I was on such a high.
Half way through the day came the news that we won’t now be calling at L’anse Aux Meadows, to see the archaeological site and recreated Viking village there at the only authenticated site of pre-Columbian, European contact in North America. Bummer, and our third change of itinerary since starting this voyage. Mind you 1 change per 30 days isn’t too bad, I suppose. Instead, we’ll be heading straight over to Ireland, giving ourselves four days instead of three to get there, which, according to the General Manager, who has been watching a large depression just sitting over the North Atlantic, is likely to be “more than a bumpy ride.”
Dinner tonight was in Red Ginger with Georg and Barbara, after drinks in their room, where we helped them finish off another of their complementary bottles of Champagne. We’re good like that.
[Clocks forward half an hour.]
***
Corner Brook, Newfoundland
Another cold and misty morning. Juli suggested having breakfast somewhere a little warmer today, so we went down to the Grand Dining Room, which was doing a roaring trade.
Although the port of Corner Brook is not a big nor busy place, the town laid on a shuttle bus to take passengers and crew into the centre via a couple of large shopping malls. Quite a shrewd move on the town’s part, as a) that’s how many (if not most) passengers seem to want to fill their time ashore, and b) they mostly wouldn’t have had the wit to find them on their own. We’re not big shoppers, though you might not agree if you could see the size of our souvee bag now, so we stayed on the bus until it brought us to one end of the town centre to see what we could see.
Corner Brook is a nice little town. Pretty quite most of the time, I should imagine, to the point of maybe learning a little too closely to the dead end of the spectrum. Indeed, we saw quite a few shops that had closed or were closing as we walked through town. No doubt the out of town shopping centres have had something to do with that. Many of the shops and other places of interest that were open had made an effort to capitalise on the ship’s visit by putting up ‘Welcome Marina’ type signs or advertising cruise specials, etc., and the town hall (they call it City Hall, but I’d say that was stretching it a bit) was playing host to a number of small craft workers and their stalls. Some local ladies had opened the church (again, they say cathedral, but, you know, really?) and one of them was playing hymns on the piano, which was nice. So too was the church – sorry, cathedral – actually.
We did quite a bit of wandering before settling on a small cafe to warm ourselves around large mugs of hot chocolate and to use their free Wi-fi. Unfortunately, the speed wasn’t great (and they had no soup on today) so we moved on from there, back to City Hall, next to which is the public library. That had excellent Wi-fi, and we were able to upload loads of photos we’d taken in The States, which is going to make publishing this post a lot quicker when we get to Ireland.
After that, it was back to the port to spend our last dollars on thick woolly socks, then back on board for tea and telly. Dinner tonight was in Toscana, our last reservation there. Juli chose very sensibly, but I went for one of their huge veal chops and still managed to force down an over-sized Tiramisu. Boy, am I going to regret that in the morning.
Incidentally, now that the days are getting longer (sunset tonight wasn’t until well after nine o’clock we had hope to see something of the Bay of Islands as we sailed away from Corner Brook. Unfortunately, the fog closed right in again, meaning foghorns all night again, but also scarcely a peek at anything as we cruised through what should have been stunning scenery. We were lucky enough to get one glimpse though as the fog lifted for just a minute or two, and I managed to grab the following, which sort of made up for it… a bit.
Days 353–356 (crossing the North Atlantic Ocean)
Day 1 (of 4)Woke really early today. Probably a combination of too much good food in my belly and another night-long foghorn fest. Juli slept late though – apparently she’d had a restless night too – so we didn’t go for our breakfast (in Horizons) until after ten, by which time the needle-point/coffee morning crew were in full swing. Juli decided she might as well grab another sewing kit while she was there so she’d have something to do during this long stretch of sea days. I don’t imagine it’ll keep her occupied for long however: this is her fifth kit.
Spent most of the rest of the day doing word and number puzzles thoughtfully provided by the ship, catching up on the blog and watching films on TV and DVDs. After Tea, we opened the last of the bottles of Australian wine we brought on board with us, before going down to dinner in the Grand Dining Room, which was heaving. Still very foggy.
[Clocks forward half an hour tonight.]
***
Crossing the Atlantic, day 2 (of 4)
This morning was a bit of a washout, both in terms of the weather (grey-out might be a better word for it) and because we spent most of it in bed feeling a bit groggy. I think I stayed in my dressing gown until it was time for lunch. Meanwhile, Juli was up and making a start on the big re-pack, going through the bag of stuff – tickets, leaflets, bits and bobs – that we had accumulated during the cruise. After lunch (in the Grand Dining Room – heaving again) we moved on to repacking our souvee bag and deciding what to do about the things that won’t fit or are too fragile to pack or need to be kept out and carried with us during our final five days.
This morning was a bit of a washout, both in terms of the weather (grey-out might be a better word for it) and because we spent most of it in bed feeling a bit groggy. I think I stayed in my dressing gown until it was time for lunch. Meanwhile, Juli was up and making a start on the big re-pack, going through the bag of stuff – tickets, leaflets, bits and bobs – that we had accumulated during the cruise. After lunch (in the Grand Dining Room – heaving again) we moved on to repacking our souvee bag and deciding what to do about the things that won’t fit or are too fragile to pack or need to be kept out and carried with us during our final five days.
At a quarter to six, we went down to our final Captain’s Cocktail Party for Oceania Club Members. This is the free drinks bun fight for repeat cruisers, who, on this cruise, numbered over 800. Not bad for a ship with just 1,250 passengers on board. Over 300 of them are on their 5th or more cruise. (Apparently, on the companies second ever cruise, there were just two repeat cruising couples, so they held a party in one of their suites.)
For some reason, during his speech, the Captain singled us out as having been on-board since Sydney and referred to us as “that young couple over there.” I had to turn round to see who behind us he might be talking about. We still haven’t been given our Bronze badges though, so we’ll have to follow that up.
Despite being more or less on time, we couldn’t find an unoccupied table, so ended up sharing with another couple we’d met briefly before. Well, one round of free drinks lead to another, and then, when the free drinks ran out, to another on our card until it was time for our dinner reservation in Jacques. Well, to cut a long story short, we ended sharing a table with them there as well and having quite a merry old time of it. Especially as they insisted on buying a very nice bottle of something red and so far out of our price range you’d need binoculars to see it. Needless to say, we were again the last or amongst the last to leave the restaurant.
At some stage before the cocktail party, the fog had cleared a bit and the horizon was visible again. However, by the time we went to bed, the foghorn was doing its thing, so I guess the fog had returned.
[Clocks forward a whole hour tonight.]
***
Crossing the Atlantic, day 3 (of 4)
Still foggy in the morning – that’s both the weather and our heads – but at least we managed to get up in time for breakfast (in Horizons). Whilst there, Juli grabbed yet another needlepoint kit (her sixth) before our ninth and final Passenger Safety and Emergency Drill. As it was our last, we thought we’d show willing and don our lifejackets in the proscribed manner. We were practically the only ones to do so. Seems this crowd don’t take the drills particularly seriously. We met up with George and Barbara, who muster at a different station from us, and they told us that some of the passengers around them who were wearing their lifejackets, were even playing with the safety features. Trying to get the lights to come on, which they only do when immersed in water, by wetting them with their own saliva. These are the sort of people who lick icy lampposts in Winter and wonder why they get stuck.
Still foggy in the morning – that’s both the weather and our heads – but at least we managed to get up in time for breakfast (in Horizons). Whilst there, Juli grabbed yet another needlepoint kit (her sixth) before our ninth and final Passenger Safety and Emergency Drill. As it was our last, we thought we’d show willing and don our lifejackets in the proscribed manner. We were practically the only ones to do so. Seems this crowd don’t take the drills particularly seriously. We met up with George and Barbara, who muster at a different station from us, and they told us that some of the passengers around them who were wearing their lifejackets, were even playing with the safety features. Trying to get the lights to come on, which they only do when immersed in water, by wetting them with their own saliva. These are the sort of people who lick icy lampposts in Winter and wonder why they get stuck.
After a spot of light reading in the Concierge Lounge while Juli waited for some laundry to finish and had her own run-in with some stupid selfish people, we finally got around to rescuing my torch from our tent before re-rolling and packing it away. By the way, if we’re going to need it for the last five day, people who are planning that, you’d better let us know before it goes into one of the bags that will be returning home without us.
The afternoon was spent doing a bit more packing, a bit more blogging and, for Juli, a bit more sewing. During this time, the horizon reappeared, disappeared, then reappeared again before ‘Chocoholics Tea Time’, today’s themed teatime event in the now frequently inappropriately named Horizons Lounge. By the time we returned to our room, the ship was cloaked in fog yet again.
Back in our room, I read while Juli sewed. Soon it was time to dress for dinner (in the Grand Dining Room) but not before popping into the Oceania Club Ambassador's office (just before closing time) to ask about our bronze badges again. She couldn’t understand why we hadn’t had them, then checked their records and discovered that we had some how been demoted by their computer system. (Damn computers.) She apologised as she gave me our long waited for pins, adding that she would be sure to tear someone back at head office off a strip for this. Bit over the top for a small, easily resolved admin error, I thought, but it occurred to me later that this is the sort of thing seasoned complainers become indignant or even irate over and try to leverage some advantage through. She’s probably used to that, and was attempting to show me how seriously she took the matter. All a bit too Machiavellian for me.
We made it back to our room in time to watch The Hobbit on TV. You may remember we saw it with Juli’s relatives in Robina when we stayed with them over Christmas and New Year. That was in 3D on an Imax screen and this wasn’t, but it was still worth a second viewing. Feel more likely to see the second and third episodes now.
[Clocks forward another hour tonight.]
***
Crossing the Atlantic, day 4 (of 4)
For some inexplicable reason I was awake, up, dressed and running (#2 of week 9 – 1 x 30’) even before my alarm went off. Not as easy as last time, despite the extra days off and the near flat calm sea. Most probably this was due to the lack of decent tunes in the gym to distract me. (Do send in your suggestions, by the way.)
For some inexplicable reason I was awake, up, dressed and running (#2 of week 9 – 1 x 30’) even before my alarm went off. Not as easy as last time, despite the extra days off and the near flat calm sea. Most probably this was due to the lack of decent tunes in the gym to distract me. (Do send in your suggestions, by the way.)
After giving Juli the chance of an extended lie-in by reading in the laundry room as our washing went round and round, we went up to Waves for breakfast. It was still a bit chilly – blankets were being wrapped round shoulders – but the sky was definitely a lot brighter than it had been for the past few days and it soon began to warm up.
Now that we could see the horizon again, we decided to take our reading (me) and sewing (Juli) up to Horizons, which was quite full of other passengers doing the same thing. While we were all up there, the Captain’s voice came over the public address system to give us his usual midday announcement plus inform us that a helicopter from an oil rig somewhere off the Irish coast would be landing on the ship in the afternoon to airlift one of our fellow guests to hospital in Cork. Yesterday morning, there had been some sort of medical emergency (“Code Mike in the Medical Centre. Repeat: code Mike in the Medical Centre,”) and this, we surmised, was the upshot of that event. Very exciting. Obviously, rather too and unwantedly exciting for the patient and their spouse/partner, and, of course, we wish them well for a full and speedy recovery.
However, and as you may imagine, as the most exciting thing by far that has happened on-board since leaving Canada, this caused quite a flurry of conversation and speculation around Horizons, and people were wondering where best to stand, with their cameras, to get the best view as the drama unfolded. After a decent interval, Juli returned her sewing to the room and collected her camera then went off to claim her spot. After a couple of hours of zero helo action, I went back to the room myself to find her sat sewing there. Apparently it was far too cold to stand outside on deck, so she’d come back to wait with the TV tuned to the bow/stern cam channel. This excellent strategy allowed her to both stay warm and scan the horizon for inbound choppers at the same time, but still nothing.
Then, at about three o’clock (or fifteen hundred hours) with the tension mounting to near fever pitch, we received a second communication to the effect that the casualty did not after all need to be medevac'd and that the mission had been aborted. Well, you can imagine the disappointment, though, again, probably not from the casualty nor his travelling companion. All over without so much as a whiff of Huey. Still, it helped to pass the afternoon.
Juli went to tea on her own today while I did a bit more packing and sorting out, followed by a bit more blogging as, once again, the horizon faded from view. When Juli came back, we got the room ready for drinks with George and Barbara prior to our last double dinner date in the Polo Grill. Another very jolly evening made jollier still by a very nice bottle of merlot compliments of the General Manger. Thanks very much, Dominique.
[Clocks forward one final hour to UK time once more.]
So, where are we now? We’ve made it all the way across the Atlantic - not so bumpy as we feared - to Cohb (pronounced ‘Cove’) the Port of Cork, Ireland, nearly at the end of our voyage home and, therefore, nearly at the end of our travels (for now).
However, we still have a few ports of call before disembarking at Southampton, after which we have to close our 360 in 360 loop in Hove and then we have to get back to Hammersmith in time to celebrate the completion of our year in the place where it all began. But, as I’ve written many times before, more on all (or some) of that next time.
TTFN - N
[Click here for more photos from the North Atlantic.]
