We have been planning this trip for our anniversary for several months. We both thought it should be something special since 35 years is a long time (oops, seems like it flew by ….in… but a few days). After we decided on China and Australia, I searched for, and bought the airline tickets. I used our frequent flyer miles to permit us to upgrade from tourist (picture flying with your knees bent up to your chest and balancing a bag of peanuts on one of your two knees for sixteen hours) to first class (picture seats that recline fully into a king sized bed, flight attendants bringing you warm cookies and milk to lull you to sleep, the pilot comes back to your seat, gently shakes your shoulder and asks you if he is flying the plane correctly or if he should stop turning so steeply if it is disturbing you).
well,…. after depositing a huge amount of frequent flyer miles into a POTENTIAL upgrade that would have covered our whole trip – we were told that there were no seats available that far in advance and (if we were lucky) each flight segment would be “cleared” for upgrade individually as the seats became available – they had to try their best to sell all of the seats before we could get them – we waited patiently for any spare first class seats to come available and be given to us. To PURCHASE a round trip first class ticket to Hong Kong would cost anyone wishing to part with a fortune ---$14,000 per seat – I’ll bet you can hear the crowds laughing at anyone crazy enough to pay that kind of dough for a bigger seat on an airline trip.
So, for six months I watched the continental website daily, praying and cajoling the screen while keeping track of our status. Slowly but surely each leg, New York to Hong Kong (16 hours), Cairns Australia to Guam (5 hours), Guam to Honolulu (7 hours – still waiting for this one), Honolulu to Houston (9 hours) and Houston to San Antonio (30 minutes in the air and one hour taxiing around on the ground in Houston). As of today all were upgraded to the king sized beds except one and it looks favorable – it’s on the return flight and is still more than three weeks away. We had a nice surprise at the airport today, the one leg in the US – San Antonio to New York had only six first class seats and they were all full with “Paying customers”, so we were told no seats for us on this first flight – but peanuts for our kneecaps were ready and waiting.
We were pleasantly surprised when we checked in and found that some of the paying passengers had decided to charter their own jet with their spare pocket change and two seats were now vacant. BADABING – the fates were with us – first class. I almost spoiled it all by joking around with the attendant in the airline lounge about fireworks on the airplane on new years eve – she was reaching for the red phone when Lucy let her know I wasn’t an Arab but just a misguided retired army guy with a poor sense of humor. Once again I was saved embarrassment by my very much more sophisticated wife.
Well enough of this talk of huge seats versus tiny seats (that only little Leonard or Alexi could fit into) and let me wrap up today’s journal. We arrived in New York (actually Newark New Jersey – that’s the main airport now serving New York city). Beautiful modern airport. We got off the plane (they handed us our warm cookies that we had failed to eat….. as we got off). We went to baggage claim got our bags (marked – to be delivered FIRST to the couple holding the cookies). We walked outside to wait for a van to come around and pick us up to take us one hundred yards to the Marriott located here on the airport and discovered it was COLD – 40 degrees with a wind blowing while we waited outside for pickup. Lucy brought a pair of gloves and had her new leather jacket and the scarf Rita gave her for Christmas to keep her warm. I was dressed in Shorts, no shirt and flip flops – oh, wait…. That was for my guest appearance on “Cops” – or was it Jerry Springer?
So here we are at the Marriott hotel where we will get up tomorrow for our long leg to China. – THAT’S RIGHT --- IN THE KING SIZED BED SEAT!! In the meantime, here’s a photo of Lucy at the Marriott where we are staying tonight with our new Mascott, MO THE SHARK!!! This Mascott was provided very thoughtfully for us by the “New Marino’s” who tell us they’ve never ever had a bit of bad luck on any trip they’ve taken with Mo Along. So …. Who are we to argue!! MO’s going to Australia to meet his bigger cousin the Great White Shark. (you can’t hear it but the sound track playing is from Jaws!!!). If I can figure out how to add sound to this, I’ll do it later.
Saturday, 12/31/2005
– New years EVE
We awoke this morning to snow in Newark. It was lightly snowing outside the hotel. We dressed and went across to the airport. We ate at Gallaghers steak house (it was bad) and spent the remaining few hours at the Continental airlines Presidents club. I recalled that I had forgotten the novel I had purchased for this trip. I couldn’t remember the name but knew it was by Robin Cook. So I called Rita, our resident expert on the internet, and asked her to see if she could research it and let me know the name of the book. She wasn’t able to come up with it but I found it in the terminal Borders bookstore. It was Robin cooks “vital signs” set in Australia and Hong Kong, where we’re headed.
We were excited to get to the plane so we went to the gate to wait for embarkation. The plane boarded a little late and by now it was snowing heavily. As we got on the plane the flight attendants had decorated the plane for a new year’s celebration. There were happy new year signs everywhere with confetti decorating additional hanging signs. We were handed a menu in both Chinese and English and our flight attendant gave us a small bottle of bubbles to use at midnight to celebrate the new year.
Interestingly enough, the entire plane was asleep when midnight chimed. The delay for de-icing and subsequent loss of our take off slot with ATC caused a two hour delay on the ground. But it was okay, we only had sixteen more hours to go when we took off. We’re flying up across the north pole and Siberia to get to Hong Kong. We were served an AMAZING meal for dinner – and they’ve reinstituted real silverware – and dropped the plastic sporks they used when everyone was frightened of terrorists taking over the plane armed with small salad forks.
Lucy opted for the Chinese meal, which consisted of a bowl of noodles, with lobster, scallops and a “dumpling”. She loved it. I selected the good ole American bill of fare. Steak with mashed potatoes. It was incredibly good. They actually WOKE us up to feed us a “mid flight” or more aptly named MIDNIGHT snack.
Little sandwiches, cup of Chinese tea, apple pie and another serving of the noodles with shrimp, dumpling etc. etc., I could have slept through it, but they turned all the lights on and rattled their carts up and down the aisles wafting great smells. It’s amazing how hungry you can get in the middle of a night’s sleep. It’s actually physically demanding sleeping on an airplane and you can work up an appetite by snoring aggressively.
I was dreaming that they wouldn’t let the plane land because the credit card the pilots wanted to use to pay the landing fee was turned down, so we had to land in the bay. Since we were in the first row, in my dream - I got a mouthful of bay water when we landed (don’t ask, anything is possible in a dream). Awakening to a hot meal was a nice interruption of that unpleasant dream – I had just begun thinking about the strange and exotic diseases I was exposed to by gulping down Hong Kong bay water during the imaginary landing in the water – when I awoke to the food.
Our flight path took us nearly over the north pole, came down through Siberia and Russia into northern China, flew over Beijing and landed in Hong Kong, on time – at 9:40 pm local time - one day and 14 hours later than Texas – we crossed the international dateline enroute. Facing us, in front of our seats, was a bulkhead (a wall -for those of you who are not nautical or aeronautical) continuously flashing our position on a map, complete with a little moving airplane, alternating with information like how high we were and what the temperature was outside – (just exactly how cold is minus 67 degrees centigrade?), current time at our destination and how long we had to go until arrival. I expect that cuts down considerably on questions like “are we there yet” to the crew.
When we arrived, we got off the plane and went through customs. I had imagined lots of grim faces communist party officials sporting heavy woolen coats, Mao hats with large red stars sewn onto them. I had already promised Lucy to refrain from any Capitalist vs NON-capitalist Jokes. What we found were neatly dressed smiling officials who documented our arrival and passed us through quickly.
We loaded our luggage onto a cart – interestingly similar carts – looked like shopping carts only flat with no basket – cost us $3.00 in New York to rent from a turnstile. Here in Hong Kong, they were free, newer and cleaner looking. Once we had passed through customs we walked out through a door into an ultra modern terminal complete with shops, etc and found a suited driver waiting for us. They literally snatched up all of our baggage (heavy enough to drop a large horse to its knees), led us through a private hallway to a waiting Mercedes sedan. The two gents who met us and carried our bags (dressed in blue suits) stood outside on the sidewalk and bowed to us as we drove away. Finally, I had to wait to get CHINA to be treated like the royalty I believe myself to be!!
Everyone spoke English so we had no difficulty communicating. We drove for about thirty minutes to the hotel passing huge, modern high rises on all sides, buildings with striking architecture and colorful lighting, according to our driver, for Christmas and the holiday seasons. AGAIN, I thought the communists didn’t condone any religious displays etc, but we saw Christmas lights – although most of it was generic, talking about happy “holidays”. You know.!!!. Turns out, Hong Kong is different that the rest of China, guaranteed, prior to turnover from the British, not to change for fifty years after the transition.
We pulled up to our hotel, modern, waterfalls, gardens, flowers everywhere and again all of our luggage was handled quickly and efficiently without us having to touch it. Lucy and I walked up the stairs to enter the lobby. My plan was to present myself at the desk, fill out a form and be given a key and waved in the general direction of an elevator (standard US procedure).
What ensued was like nothing I’ve ever seen. The manager, dressed immaculately in a blue suit, walked up to us as we entered the lobby, said “Good evening Mr. and Mrs. ___________, I’m the manager, please follow me to your suite”, escorted us to the elevator and went with us to our suite. Before he completed our check-in, performed in it’s entirety in less than a minute while standing in our suite, our giant load of luggage had arrived (we packed for thirty days).
We had chocolates, a bottle of Champagne and a congrats note for our anniversary. The champagne was not the typical hotel champagne, “Ed’s of France” but Moet Chandon – one of the best. We haven’t opened it yet, but will before we leave.
I have never seen such immaculate service. Everyone was doing the oriental bow. It’s hard to remain erect when everyone else is bowing.
I learned last night a custom to perform in a restaurant. Tapping your three center fingers on the table after receiving excellent service from your waiter is considered an emphatic thank you for good service. The center finger is to signify a bowed head and the two fingers to the left and right of the bowed head symbolize prostrated arms. WOW, and we thought we had some strange customs in the US.
I called down for an extra pillow or two and the lady told me on the phone to open the door – I walked over and the guy was there already!! – okay, that’s an exaggeration, but I swear it didn’t take a full two minutes until it was there. Everything we’ve asked for has seemed to appear in seconds. I wish they could do this at the Motel 6 in Dallas.
We were zombies, but not so dead that we didn’t have the opportunity to look around the suite. Nearly at the top of the hotel, 27th floor.
Two rooms, one living room with couch, etc, the bedroom with king sized bed, huge master bath, all tile and marble – just like Las Vegas – and floor to ceiling windows overlooking Hong Kong and its bay, a very comfortable desk where I can keep this journal and last but not least a magnificent, firm, but soft bed, replete with high quality sheets. As they say, "Luxury once enjoyed becomes a necessity!" (we have great sheets at home).
We turned in and slept well (considering the time we were sleeping is exactly opposite what we are accustomed to – 9pm night time here is morning in Texas.
Monday, January 1, 2006 Hong Kong Grand Hyatt
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We awoke at 7am and opened the window shades to find a park directly below. Tai Chi was going on. We watched while they finished their exercises – pretty much as we’d seen it done– then, as we watched, they broke out swords and began going through the motions, only this time wielding the swords. Either that or they were robbing the woman in front of this picture!
I called down and put the hotel concierge to work finding us a place where we can watch the Rose Bowl - Texas against the University of southern California – both teams undefeated and since we have a vested interest (and investment of our funds in) the University of Texas - we’re rooting for them, of course. I even brought my UT shirt - wore it to sleep on the plane. The concierge found a place locally called the “kangaroo Bar and Restaurant” that will broadcast the game live and reserved a spot. The game back in the US is being broadcast at 7pm on Wednesday evening. The time here is Thursday morning at 10 am. It actually takes place the same day (here) that we’re supposed to board our cruise ship, so it should be interesting.
Today we went to Kowloon, which is on the mainland of China, Hong Kong consists of a main island (Hong Kong proper) and loads of outlying islands (there are over 200 of them). Kowloon is where a recommended tailor shop is and we (make that “I”) wanted to custom make an evening dress for Lucy. So we struck off in a taxi for Kowloon. What we discovered is that custom clothing in Hong Kong is NOT cheap, as I had been lead to believe. One pair of pants like the ones I’m wearing and paid $30 for at JC Penney (on sale) - $275, so I’m not buying any pants. One of the things they do here, however is that they can exactly reproduce a piece of clothing from a photo. I had a picture of the actress Lucy Liu, in an advertisement for an Intel Centrino computer and she had an amazing dress on. It was actually kind of a funny ad, she was sitting on the lap of a librarian dressed to the hilt – she was, the librarian looked like any old frumpy librarian. They’re making a replica of that designer dress for Lucy – four fittings required and it should come out beautifully.
It was a bit of an adventure finding the shop in Kowloon. The cab dropped us off on a typically busy street with huge signs and banners in Chinese (and some in English). I asked directions and got the wrong ones, so we walked a couple of blocks out of our way and ended up coming back to nearly the same spot we’d been dropped by the Taxi. When we walked into the store, it was replete with photos of United States Naval officers, ambassadors and embassy officials – all with their arms around the proprietor - and their endorsements to the shops owner. The endorsements included the blue angels as well as numerous US ships and their officers.
Tuesday, January 2, 2006,
Hong Kong Grand Hyatt Hotel–
We are high up in the Hyatt Regency hotel (there are 30 stories to the building and the top two are a club where they serve cocktails, breakfast and provide a 360 degree view of the city). The hotel sits on a small peninsula into the bay. Directly out our window, Hong Kong bay is roughly three miles across and on the other side is Kowloon, a suburb of Hong Kong. Equally high skyscrapers all around.
Every night at 8pm they have a laser show, the buildings on either side of the bay light up with different colors with laser beams shooting up into the air and rotating around, bouncing back and forth between the two sides. It is a unique and beautiful show. It's not just floodlights, but pulsating colors, laser beams and neon lights, it's amazing.
Today we are taking our first formal tour, via grayline sightseeing bus. We will visit a buddhist temple - the Man MO Temple, very famous apparently, but I’ve never heard of it - a fishing village called Aberdeen, Victoria peak – where we will ride a tram up the side of the highest mountain overlooking the city and, finally, Stanley market. Everything here is named after famous British personages - it must irk the current Chinese powers to no end. I wonder if they'll change the names sometime in the future.
Yesterday while walking around in the dried fish market, we found a Chinese version of Luby's (a San Antonio Cafeteria style restaurant). You walk in and there are three teenagers standing behind a cash register with food pictures behind them on the wall. They’re dressed in fancy little outfits complete with hats - they look like the girls dancing around in the FANTA commercial you see before the movie. Same goofy hats and strange little uniforms. On the wall were pictures of the food they served and a description in Chinese and English.
Lucy, showing her usual good sense, was scared to death to eat anything, so she watched me. I pointed to the picture gestured in the general direction of my mouth, paid - the meal was the equivalent of $1.50 and walked up to the line in front of a high counter. The workers behind the counter were all immaculately clean and wearing headgear to cover their hair AND face masks to prevent their breathing on anyone's food, I presume. Although, it occurred to me, that they might have just been protecting their identity in case the food was bad. IT WASN'T. It was delicious.
We sat down at little white tables like you'd find at MacDonald’s or an American fast food restaurant and I ate. Finally, Lucy gave in and tried my dish, pork chops with a pineapple sauce over yellow rice, baked in what appeared to be a lasagna dish like a casserole. It was delicious. Lucy kept looking at the adjacent table, where a man was eating a dish that appeared to be pork chops in a thick brown gravy and white rice. She liked the look of that, so I went back up to the cashiers and couldn't find anything like that on the menu on the wall. She wouldn't let me try to communicate with the guy - he might have spoken English - but since we were in a foreign environment we decided it might be rude for me to stick my spoon in his plate, taste his food and gesticulate that we wanted to share.
Soooooo. TODAY we are going to the hotel concierge and asking him or her to write us a note in Chinese describing what Lucy wants and then we are going BACK to that neat little spot and come hell or high water, we're getting white rice and pork chops!!!
You've all heard my story of how I drank a coke with ice in it in Paris and suffered the consequences. Well, most people would learn a valuable lesson, and frankly, since I remember the incident some thirty three years later, I guess I learned something too.... However, lesson notwithstanding - I had a coke with ice in it and .....Halelujah praise Chairman Mao, did not see Montezuma anywhere (or suffer his revenge) and it's now 24 hours later. Could be the Pepto Bismol tablets I chewed after.
Rita told me a few years ago that Pepto is the magic bullet to prevent everything. She also used to spray LYSOL in the air to sterilize the air!!!! BUT then we did pay good money for her to become a microbiologist and all we ask is occasional microbiological advice in return. In all fairness to my daughter, the Lysol thing was BEFORE she was a microbiologist.
Tomorrow (Wednesday your time Thursday ours) we are going to the KANGAROO bar to see University of TEXAS beat those evil, morally bankrupt, liberal democrat, Californians. I'm wearing my long horns shirt and we intend to be obnoxious Americans (the term "we" is used in the ROYAL sense to mean me, myself and I).
Touring Hong Kong / Tailor Shops / Restaurants Hong Kong Grand Hyatt
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Well, Today, we returned to the restaurant I discussed previously, armed with a note in Chinese, prepared for us by the hotel concierge, asking for the pork chop dish and cokes with no ice. Lucy had little faith in me thinking I couldn’t remember where the restaurant was located, since we had run across it while negotiating a maze of tiny crowded backstreets packed with Chinese throngs. However, I pointed my finger on the map to the taxi driver and only missed by half a block (about fifty yards). HAH!!! Let no one think my inerrant sense of direction is malfunctioning.
True, as postulated by my son in law - Justin - I do enjoy arriving at the destination by anything but the most direct route. HOWEVER, I always know where the destination is in relation to my current position despite misgivings of those around me (carping bunch of fools).
So we found our way back to the restaurant. Standing in line like the people waiting for the infamous Soup Nazi (those of you who don’t remember Seinfeld’s episode won’t appreciate that), we got to the head of the line (which was big, this restaurant is evidently very popular) stood at attention, took one giant step forward and thrust out my arm clutching the Chinese translation of what we wanted to eat – including COKE – (no ice). We discovered, as the cashier this time spoke some rudimentary English, that there WERE no pork chops today. AWK!!!
I was anticipating a loud embarrassing voice to shout at me “ NO SOUP FOR YOU!!!” Apparently they change their menu daily. Meanwhile the crowd grew restless behind us. The giant foreign devil and his much better looking woman were blocking their view of the cash register. We took one step to the side and began looking at the menu on the wall again. Once again we were perplexed by even the English descriptions of the dishes written below the Chinese characters on the wall. Lucy and I read everything carefully, while being jostled by other, much shorter people, who wanted to see also. We finally decided upon something and gesticulated to the Soup Nazi cashier what we wanted and proceeded to the high topped counter with the masked chefs for delivery of our food.
The restaurant was packed and we couldn’t find a spot to sit, so we asked (gesticulated) to two Chinese (of course) women sitting across from each other at a small table for four, if we could join them and they said okay. Picture McDonalds tiny tables for four with attached seats and you’ve got the mental picture. Lucy and I sat face to face on one side with the two women immediately to our side, close but with the top of the table slightly divided by a space. 
So Lucy and I began eating (after obtaining some REAL silverware – how do you eat soup with chopsticks?), the ladies sitting next to us were obviously enjoying their conversation and eating sandwiches with a knife and fork. Lucy was hugely amused by this and tried to convey her amusement to me in Spanish. I suggested Pig Latin since her Spanish is way beyond my ability to grasp - she thought that idea was ridiculous, so we just communicated via the unspoken tiny gestures that married people share- about how strange and wonderful it is to eat a sandwich with a FORK. The similarities between China and the Jerry Seinfeld show are transcendental.
Lucy has the same color hair as the normal, average, Chinese. So I have had a devil of a time picking her out of a crowd when she wanders and has her back to me. A few heart stopping moments have ensued. I had one of those when she exited the restaurant before me and entered the crowd outside. I nearly flipped when I couldn't see her in the mass of people with black hair.
Today is the day we leave the hotel and move to the ship. We got up early, packed and prepared to go the KANGAROO lounge to watch the football championship. It turns out it was broadcast on the television in our hotel room, so we didn’t have to go out to an Australian bar and spend half the game explaining the rules to a bunch of ignorant soccer and cricket players. We sat in the comfort of our suite and watched it while munching peanuts and drinking diet coke – much better than warm Australian beer.
I have to say that we so thoroughly enjoyed the game that we thought they were going to send up security and tell us to quiet down. It was not only, one of the most exciting games we’ve ever seen, but our team won and beat the Californians in the last couple of minutes of a game that seemed to be hopelessly lost already.
As soon as the game was over, we dashed out to our waiting car for the drive across the bay (no, not literally – there is a tunnel), to the port where our ship was berthed. We actually saw the ship out of our hotel window. It’s sleek and beautiful but smaller than most we’ve been on. Only 200 passengers and a 3 to one ratio of crew to passenger. I certainly hope my three crewmembers are Johnny on the spot when it comes time to refill my tea cup.
So the hotel gave us a Mercedes limo to take us to the ship. After he dropped us, we checked in our baggage at the terminal – easier than anywhere we’ve ever been before - we blasted off to do stuff (you know…. STUFF). Three days ago we were standing in the exact same spot that we were in now, but we were lost and confused. TODAY, after four days in Hong Kong, we (I) were (was) willing to take a few risks….. SOoooooo. Since arriving, we’ve been going everywhere by Taxi. A half hour taxi ride cost only about ten dollars, the fare starts at about one dollar and goes up incrementally very slowly by the meter. We’ve thought that was an excellent way to get around and the doorman at the hotel always told the driver in Chinese exactly where to go.
I had found another tailor, much less expensive, near the soup nazi and was having some pants made. This shop is near the hotel and is therefore, once again ACROSS the bay from where we are (now on the ship).
We had seen ferry boats moving like giant busses back and forth across the bay for our entire stay. Today we got aboard a ferry, mass boat transport that took us entirely across the bay ($10 taxi fare) for TWENTY-FIVE cents equivalent, that was for BOTH of us – two for a quarter. And it was FASTER than the taxis. It was great! The tailor is a five minute walk from the ferry terminus. I noticed a subway station right next to the Tailor’s building in downtown Hong Hong. If I get brave I’ll try that and see if I can avoid the five minute walk tomorrow.
After visiting my tailor for the final fitting, we accidentally stumbled into a beautiful downtown mall, taking a shortcut back to the ferry. It looks like the Fashion Mall in Dallas, only smaller, a closer description might be the WaterTower mall in Chicago, since all of the stores are spread around a central courtyard and go up, not outwards. All of the stores were designer stores, like Gucci, Tiffany etc. They had a cafe in the middle on the second floor from which you could look around and see all of the stores above and below you. We had drinks. Lucy had the first decent cup of coffee she’s had since arrival –until now the coffee has had the consistency of mud with a spoon stuck in the middle and protruding upwards), this cafe had STARBUCK’S latte’s. She loved it.
By the time we took the return ferry it was around 5:30 pm and growing dark. We had a dinner reservation at a local restaurant called the Peking Garden – Our concierge recommended this restaurant if we wanted to try authentic Peking Duck. It turned out the restaurant was no more than fifty paces from where our ship is berthed.
When we arrived they gave us a huge round table, which would have seated eight comfortably, overlooking the bay. It was so big that I felt uncomfortable. Shortly after we sat down, a large group of German tourists arrived and took all of the, even LARGER, tables around us and began conversing loudly and boisterously. So, (while Lucy was in the restroom) I got up and found an intimate table for two and asked the maitre D to move us there. Moderately stressed over the relocation, we decided to imbibe.
I asked the waiter for a “traditional” Chinese cocktail of some sort. When in China do as the Chinese do, or was that Rome? He brought this tiny bottle, about three inches tall. He tried to open it by twisting the top off and couldn’t get it off. Then several others, including a very small woman, tried to twist it off unsuccessfully (I was itching to do it myself, but Lucy wouldn’t let me). Finally, they got the top off and poured the bottle into two shot glasses that had been placed in front of us. WOW, that was the foulest thing I’ve ever drunk. It tasted like rubbing alcohol, but amazingly enough, didn’t have the slightest effect on us as you might expect a shot of any sort of traditional booze to have.
The duck was amazing. It was the size of a thanksgiving turkey complete with head and neck. I couldn’t help thinking of the Chinese restaurant that little Ralphie and his family in the movie “a Christmas Story” went to after the bupkisses dog’s broke into their kitchen and dragged off their turkey. If we had only had a chorus of Deck the halls with boughs of Horry, fa ra ra ra ra ra.. ra ra ra ra! 
This restaurant, however, did NOT take a giant cleaver and wack off the duck’s head. Instead they delicately sliced the neat into tiny morsels and arranged in on a serving plate in a circular pattern.
The head is tucked away on the other side of this photo!!
When they had finished, I asked the waiter to show us how to eat it properly. He took chopsticks, peeled, from a separate plate on the table, one of what appeared to be a stack of super thin tortillas, placed it on my plate, then placed two small pieces of meat onto the tortilla. He then took the chopsticks and delicately placed a couple of pieces of what appeared to be celery and onion (sliced thinly and about an inch long) onto the tortilla, added a small amount of “duck sauce”, thick, sweet plum-like sauce from a small bowl. Next, he, very delicately, folded this tortilla up into a small packet (all with his chopsticks). Eaten by hand, it was incredibly delicious.
We’re going back tomorrow for lunch (the ship sails at 6pm) and having another dish they specialize in called “Beggar’s Chicken”. It’s a chicken baked in clay with spices. Hopefully, they will remove the head first.
Friday, January 7, 2006 Seabourn Spirit In Port Prior to departure Hong Kong
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Came in last night, well fed and feeling good about having become veterans of another foreign country. We boarded the ship and unpacked our bags. Shipboard unpacking is always an interesting activity. Shipbuilders design storage space into the most unlikely places. As an example, under the table in front of our sitting area’s small couch there are two footstools. The footstools slide out for additional seating, in case you want to have a party and invite the rest of the ship – you have two additional seats. The lids come off the footstools and they’re hollow making perfect laundry hampers or smuggling spaces for illegal drugs, cigars, gold bullion, etc. We got everything stowed and retired for the night.
Today, is the day of departure. We had final fittings on both sides of the bay for Lucy’s cocktail dress and for my pants (yes, I had decided that I shouldn’t pass up the opportunity to have tailor made pants – mostly because I admit to having a weirdly shaped body in my old age and have difficulty with off of the rack) I was able to select the finest “merino” wool. Merino wool, is renowned for its softness, and ability to be warm in winter, cool in summer and hold a crease. Almost as good as my polyester WalMart pants.
We were a bit concerned that we could accomplish everything in the allotted time. Ships sail on time. If you miss the boat, you’ve missed the boat. They leave without you. So we planned our day to have a final fitting for Lucy at 11am, Luncheon at 12 and final fitting and pick up of my pants across the bay at 2pm. Leaving time to board the ship by no later than 5:30 pm.
Everything went well. However, both Lucy’s dress and my pants required minor last minute modifications, thereby increasing my stress level. My two hours of leeway had shrunk to about 30 minutes. It all came together nicely, though. The tailor from the other side of the bay volunteered to bring the completed pants to the dock and deliver them to me. I, on my part, volunteered to PAY him when he delivered. Since I had the money, he showed up with the completed goods early. Actually, their honesty and friendliness was inspiring. I never had any doubt that things would be as promised.
High point of a day spent tying up loose ends, was Lunch. We had pre-ordered the “Beggar’s chicken”. It was excellent, but the Peking Duck was a hard act to follow. Opening the chicken was a ceremony. The clay pot arrived at the table accompanied by a large copper hammer. The waiter invited me to smash open the dish. I declined, opting instead to film him doing it.
He broke it open, peeling off the clay and unwrapping the dish’s leaves and placed it in the center of our table. He then put the wishbone on top like a crown. We didn’t notice it until he left and we prepared to eat. It was a nice, subtle touch. We both made wishes (mine was that I NOT miss the boat) and we pulled apart the wishbone. Lucy won.
This time we drank tea instead of any sort of alcohol since it was Lunch, even though the stress of getting everything done would have been lessened by a healthy administration of a “mixed beverage”. Tea was so well done, as you might expect in the orient, it calmed us.
Overall the Luncheon was an oasis in an activity filled day.
Lucy waited on the ship after lunch and I took the ferry boat again. We agreed that if I didn’t make it back, she would sail without me, find a rich old coot on the trip, marry and replace me.
Since I had mastered one form of mass transit, I decided to try the subway for the return trip.
The subway was modern, clean and very efficient, but confusing. Purchasing the ticket was easy, you stood in front of several computerized maps and a touch screen asked you questions in English and Chinese. Is this a one way trip? Yes or no. What is your destination – touch the map at the station you want to go to. Then it pops up your fare for the ticket and you insert that amount of money into the machine. It feeds you a ticket and the adventure begins.
You take your ticket, insert it into a turnstile, unlocking it, you pass through picking up your ticket just past the turnstile where it pops up for you to retrieve it. Then the fun begins. I actually got on the same train twice, and jumped off at the last second after suffering misgivings as to whether it was the right one. Finally I spotted a pasty faced, well dressed guy, who I assumed was British – due to his nearly translucent appearance, asked him which train went to the pier. He WAS British, cheerio. He told me and I committed myself to the recommended train, hoping that I didn’t pass under the great wall in the opposite direction of my destination.
As I sat there, moving at a tremendous clip, worried that I was on the wrong train, I glanced up and saw a moving red dot representing the trains progress on a computerized map above the door. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw it was proceeding under the Bay in the right direction and exactly as planned.
I got off. It took me about five minutes to find my way OUT of the station and up to the street. I swear I saw a MORLOCH down there (HG Wells, remember?). WHAT A RIP OFF… The ferry was less than a quarter but the train cost almost A DOLLAR!!!
Upon reemerging into the sunlight I checked my position and found myself about five city blocks from the Port. Slightly further than the walk to the Ferry on the other side. Drat, I’ve wasted energy. It was almost 4pm and I needed to get moving, under peril of missing the boat. I walked briskly (English phrase) to Lucy’s tailor, who was along the route, picked up her dress then proceeded to the Dock. I stopped at a Starbucks along the way and bought my loving wife (who had abandoned me in favor of safety aboard) a Hazelnut Latte – see I hold no grudge. The little old rich men aboard would have to find other prospects – no widow here.
When I rounded the last bend before the ship I found my tailor waiting patiently for me at the gangplank, clothes (and a charge slip) in hand. It doesn’t get much better than this.
The ship departed promptly at 6pm slowly pulling away from the dock into the center of the Hong Kong channel. By now it was fully night. Lucy and I, along with about thirty or so other hearty souls (out of 200) braved the wind and cold weather (it was quite chilly) to go out on the open top deck and watch the departure. The scenery was stunning. On both sides of the ship were the huge skyscrapers and beautiful skyline of Hong Kong. The ship sounded it’s fog horn and we sailed slowly between these beautiful vistas headed to sea.
Soon frost formed on our eyebrows and we had to retreat to our stateroom for room service (steak, what else). We ate in front of a huge picture window we have in our cabin and continued to enjoy the vista for another forty five minutes, while eating in the dark – (so as not to create a reflection on the window that might obstruct the magnificent view). We vowed to come back to Hong Kong, what a wonderful city.
Saturday January 7, 2006 • Seabourn Spirit South China Sea • N 19° 57” E 112° 10” Rough seas • 60°f • Winds – gale force (35 Knots).
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WOW. Tradition continues. First day at sea they try to find the biggest waves they can – drive right through them at an odd angle – thereby ensuring the ship bounces like a cork, rolls upside down and then rights itself slowly and in general makes life miserable. I’ve been told that this is to ensure everyone appreciates the fact that not only is the crew NOT seasick, but they can actually walk without holding on to anything (while the rest of us crawl down the hallway on hands and knees, occasionally rolling summersaults in response to the irregular buffeting). Rough morning!! No one in our family upchucked. Hoorah. Someone however DID in the elevator and then had the good grace to flee the scene and wait for the door to open on an unsuspecting passenger (me).
Lucy got some motion pills and gulped them down successfully turning her color from Green to beige. I toughed it out and didn’t take anything.
While rough, it was not as bad or as long lasting as the trip we took with our adult kids out of Norfolk a couple of years ago. Two days of unmitigated, gut wrenching, who shoved me into this washing machine and then put in too many quarters in the slot, weather. The high point of which was my son, Lenny, sticking his head into the restricted VIP lounge to ask directions and then projectile vomiting into the inner sanctum. That’ll show those rich folks.!!! Wait…..we were two of the families permitted to use that lounge! Not too funny at the time, but worthy of a good chuckle and good natured ribbing for the rest of his life in retrospect. I’ll say this for the concierge of that lounge, she was gracious and never mentioned it for the duration of the trip. But I noticed that she winced whenever we approached.
Sunday, January 8, 2006 • Seabourn Spirit – Port of Da Nang, Vietnam • 63°farenheit Wind, continues at near gale force - 30 knots
After a day of rough seas, the tiny hairs in my ear’s semicircular canals are dead and can no longer tell which way is up. THEREFORE, no more queasy stomach.
Aye…… after tying several scurvy dogs from the yardarms last evening – they showed up at English high tea in T-shirts - we disappeared into our room to dress in our pajamas for FORMAL NIGHT.
Room service was great. It has come to my attention that I spend an inordinate amount of time describing meals and photographing food – of course, we EAT that food immediately after photographing it, much more satisfying. Therefore, I will attempt to gloss over the details of WHAT we ate in favor of portraying it in a more non-gastronomic light. Such as – room service was great. The food was superlative and we ate it all up.
A word about the demographic surrounding us – the other passengers - A well dressed lot, definitely not Americans. Most are British, Australian and GERMAN. I’ve discovered that we Americans are in the minority through several incidents similar to the following: ...... As we were sailing out of Hong Kong Harbor (previously discussed) – We are standing at the rail marveling at the incredible skyline presenting itself to us – the couple standing at the railing to our left was snapping photos with a small digital camera.
The Flash kept firing and I commented “it’s a good thing you have your flash, it can light up all of those building so we can see them better”. Obviously a little good natured sarcasm since the tiny flash was lucky to light up the RAILING directly in front of them – he immediately began inspecting his flash and conversing with his wife in a mix of German and English as though something were terribly wrong with the camera – we carefully sidled away having caused confusion and consternation
Consternation; noun
dismay, perturbation, distress, disquiet, discomposure; surprise, amazement, astonishment; alarm, panic, fear, fright, shock.
antonym satisfaction..
I’m writing this on the morning we arrive in Vietnam. I woke at 5:30 am local time (a welcome break from the 2am I have been accustomed to). It’s now 6:15 and the sun has just risen (I think the sun rose, I can see out the window now and there is still water there… it’s overcast).
Yesterday I decided that since I am a “well adjusted” Vietnam Vet – my facial tics and my desire to live homelessly while shouting obscenities at random passerbys is under control - and not wishing to be like the world war II vet who won’t drive a German or Japanese car out of longstanding enmity – I decided to take a local tour of an ancient Vietnamese palace.
However, last night they were showing a national geographic special about a Vietnam vet returning wanting to revisit all of his old battlefields. It was a bit over the top. This guy had artificial Legs, an artificial arm and was a sad case. They provided, as his tour guide, an ex-Vietcong guerilla who actually fought against him.
I realized that Vietnam is a closed, communist society where individual freedom is non existent and I don’t wish to contribute to their economy. I also realized, while viewing that special, that once you’ve seen one third world country – you’ve seen them all. So no tour.
Lucy pointed out to me this morning that HONG KONG is part of communist China and as such, is a communist nation, as well. I told her “Yes, BUT the Hong Kong populace is British and was Assimilated since resistance was “futile” – (Star trek’s - the Borg) and therefore they cannot not be held responsible for their political system. So it’s okay to spend money in Hong Kong.
Today we spent the day aboard the ship. Lucy and I and a staff of six hundred. Everyone else did not share our view of Vietnam and it’s economy. Our glasses were never empty.
At the end of the day, just before we sailed a very interesting thing happened. The tour buses were returning one by one and around 5pm (one hour prior to departure) the entire crew appeared outside of our picture window. We are just above the gangway where everyone gets on and off the ship. They were dressed formally, complete with white gloves. Lined up in a long row, some of them holding hors d’oeuvres, others holding trays of drinks, and finger sandwiches, some holding small rolled up towels. Then when the last two buses arrived back at the ship from the tours, they struck up a small band and played music, everyone greeting the returning passengers and giving them the refreshments. It was a sight that I’ve never seen on any other cruise line.
Tuesday January 10, 2006 • Seabourn Spirit– Far South China Sea • N 7° 19” E 111° 33” Moderate seas • 79°f • Winds – gale (35 Knots).
Today is our second full day at sea. Tomorrow we arrive in Malaysia (Borneo). Although seas have been rough, everyone (meaning us) has pretty much adjusted to it. I now walk down the passageways bowlegged like Popeye, merely swaying left and right but not reaching out to steady myself. I’ve also allowed myself to be anchored by centrifugal force when the boat totally flips over. I should have joined the NAVY!!
They have removed all of the water out of the pool (or it actually sloshed overboard on its own), I assume to keep some water-loving maniac from being swept overboard on a wave generated within the pool itself by the roll of the ship.
I saw a picture of a young woman on the in-room television, obviously not one of the passengers on THIS boat – stress the word “young”, “swimming laps in the pool” the caption was something like enjoy a daily workout by swimming laps in the pool. When the pool was filled with water it appeared to be roughly twice the length of her body, so I expect it was a seriously short lap she was swimming.
Yesterday was a very enjoyable day for us. It began poorly with a mishandled breakfast order – MAN, am I a jaded eater or what--- when a botched breakfast order can mess up my whole day. I asked for eggs over medium with Grits on the same plate. Non Americans tend to think of grits like oatmeal and they nearly always arrive in a bowl with milk on the side and cinnamon to sprinkle on top. I was determined to avoid that and be a proper “grit eattin” southerner. First, I had to gesticulate to them what exactly an “over medium” egg was. It’s tough to portray an egg being cooked on both sides by moving your hands around – but Italians are renowned for hand movements so I gave it a try – see… this is the egg… represented by my left hand held flat…. And THIS.. is the spatula …. Represented by my RIGHT hand. Put the spatula under the left hand and FLIP the egg into the air (this movement was tricky, I actually had to raise up out of my chair and swing my arms around to approximate a full 180° turn of the proverbial egg), landing on the other side in the PAN voila! (pronounced Wah Lah – for you ignorants). After all of that discussion and one mis delivery in which they brought the eggs sunny side up anyway - They brought me a second set of sunny side up eggs (again) placed on TOP of a pool of white watery substance that was supposedly grits.
Rather than be my usual obnoxious self, and risk offending a waiter and cook who have to continue to provide for us for two more weeks, I gave up and we went to the other restaurant and re-ordered, this time they got it right. I was approached later that day by the Maitre D who assured me he’d heard about the egg/grit incident and that it would be rectified Toot Sweet!! I was encouraged to order eggs and grits again - that he had personally had a long discussion with the Indonesian cook who didn’t know a grit from shinola and had properly instructed him on the preparation of same. Things are improving. I ordered grits today and only had to send them back THREE times until they arrived in a somewhat normal fashion. Oh NOOOOOOOooo – I’m dong a GRIT DIATRIBE. I’m gaining a reputation. No more grits. From now on Eggs Benedict (I hope they don’t fail to make the hollandaise correctly …. I’ll have to send it back!) – report on that tomorrow.
Grits may seem like a small thing, but I’ve never been on a cruise where they actually serve them. This is a first. Now, if they will only let me into the kitchen to show them how to properly prepare them….I asked them yesterday if anyone here knew how to make tortillas. They said they were sure their master chef could come up with tortillas, but Lucy doesn’t want breakfast tacos, so I’ve been overruled. Here we are on a gourmet ship and I’m trying to get food like at the drive-up window at Las Palapas in San Antonio. I guess we all love our comfort food. I thought about discussing barbacoa with them, but I don’t believe they have any COWS HEADS on board. And if they did, they couldn’t barbecue them properly.
After breakfast we took our books and went to the Horizon Lounge, located at the front of the ship with a panoramic view all the way around three sides.
They have very comfortable overstuffed chairs where you can just sink into them and lose yourself in your novel. Interrupted periodically by young women desiring to bring you beverages. We drank hot chocolate a lot. There were only two others people in the lounge all morning. I came to the conclusion that many of our fellow passengers have NOT gotten their sea legs yet. The bar manager told me that if we didn’t like big waves, we were on the wrong cruise – leading me to believe that we may not see calm seas during this trip. So I have stopped complaining and am now viewing the giant waves surrounding us as quaint and amusing.
Around lunch time, I walked out the back of the lounge to the open decks in the center of the ship. There is a large area set aside for sunbathing, two levels with a bar at the top and hot tubs on the lower level. The temperature was perfect, right around mid seventies. The sun came out – the ship was still rolling and pitching, but the SUN was out and people began to come out to sunbathe. We joined them, my color has been fast approaching that of the British, i.e., nearly honky level one, - if you lay down on a white bed sheet – you disappear.
They were setting up a barbecue. They grilled small skewers of meat; chicken, shrimp and beef. I haven’t had a single thing aboard this ship that wasn’t amazingly delicious. The meat on the skewers was melt in your mouth tender and they served it with a variety of side dishes, buffet style and a barbecue dipping sauce that wasn’t like anything I’ve had before. It was Thai or oriental and they warned me it was “hot”. I tasted it, delicious, and made the comment “we don’t call this HOT in Texas”, whereupon, the man next to me introduced himself as from DALLAS. We let him know that our daughter was single handedly in charge of all of the Playgroups in FRISCO and our son in law, single handedly designed and built the new American Airlines Stadium and he is currently working on completion of the plans for the Dallas Cowboys new venue as we speak. Then we all gave a rousing Cowboy / U.T. yell and continued to eat (grumbling, “ya’all call this barbeque?”)
We received a passenger list today and it turns out that Americans comprise one third (72 passengers out of 200) of the total.
Last evening when we came into the dining room we asked to be seated with some other Americans. They put us at a table with two other couples, who the Maitre D thought were Americans but actually weren’t. One couple consisted of a husband and wife from Canada – I can see how you might think a Canadian was American – Canada is actually the 51st state they just don’t know it. The wife was an appellate judge and the husband was a retired banker. The other couple was from Hong Kong. They had been British citizens before the takeover by China of that colony in 1997. They have three children, one is in California and an American citizen, one is in Canada and a Canadian citizen and the third is in London and a British citizen. They figure if things get rough, they can go live with any of them.
All of the studying of Chinese history and politics I had made in college came back and we had an excellent dinner conversation. We discussed Politics and religion. I told him he was a heathen Buddhist and the Chinese were all owned by WalMart and both he and his wife were going to burn in hell for eternity – not because they were Buddhists, but because of WalMart. He told me I was a round eyed barbarian capitalist running dog and would be impaled upon the spear of history (just joking – religion didn’t even come up). I know Rita will think that I REALLY did say those things, but I never!! (but ….I thought them).
Both of these couples proved to be very interesting dinner partners. All of them were very well educated, obviously well off and fairly well preserved – the Chinese gentleman, Steve, looks forty something and we found out he was in his late seventies. The Canadian couple, looked much older but still were intellectually quick – the Lady judge, Hilda, told us a slightly off color joke about a gaff she had made in mispronouncing a lawyers name while on the bench (I won’t repeat it here) that gave everyone a good laugh. She and her husband, who looked remarkably UN-fit, had just spent a couple of weeks in INDIA traveling by train, riding on elephants etc. etc.. They said it was a once in a lifetime experience, and they never wished to be that dirty, unwashed and tired ever again. I told them I had that same experience in the United States Army and didn’t even have to go to India.
Hilda’s husband, Ron, kept referring to world war II as “that slight difficulty”. Those Canadians…..!, we should send Arnold Schwarzanegger up there to run the place.
This evening we were formally invited to share the table of the Hotel Manager. Tuxedos and evening dresses. Lucy looked incredible, better than anyone on the entire ship in her dress from TARGET (pronounced in this company “Tar-jay”– can you believe that such an incredible dress could be bought at target). We DID have the Hong Kong tailor modify it slightly so that it fits like a glove. Remember “if da glove do not fit, you must acquit” (Johnny Cochran – ala OJ).
The table seated ten and they were a diverse bunch. As is the custom for formal dinner parties, the husbands and wives were separated, the thought being that it encourages conversation. It alternated with Man, woman, man woman mostly, except there were two ladies alone. One was older than dirt and must have LIVED aboard this ship. She was British and obviously filthy rich and at least one hundred and eighty years old. I had two ladies on my right and on my left. Lucy sat to the immediate right (I believe the place of honor) of the hotel manager Gunther. To her right was Lady Montgomery. LORD Montgomery was one seat away from me to my left.
He convinced the woman sitting between him and me that the dish that was being served “leatherjacket” was an insect found in England whose meat was prized. Since no one had ever heard of leatherjacket before, and since he was obviously a very refined English gentleman with not much of an evident sense of humor, those around him believed him. I had ordered steak in advance, so frankly I didn’t care if it WAS an insect. It was comical to see a proper English gentleman lying with a straight face just to produce a reaction among the plebians. (Postscript. I discovered in recounting this story to a British friend aboard, that apparently Lord Montgomery did NOT lie, there actually IS an insect in the British Isles called a Leatherjacket – and I thought this guy was just a royal cut up).
We did not find out until the meal was over, when the chef presented himself at the table to take credit for a wonderful meal, that it was fish. The dinner was great, they made and served me a tropitini (my favorite exotic drink – rare but available), thanks to Justin sending me the recipe by email. It was perfect! Even got the coconut to stick to the rim of the glass, which I still can’t seem to accomplish.
The lady to my right confessed to me thats she had been a teacher for special needs kids for years and we had the opportunity to talk about Aspergers Syndrome, etc.
Wednesday January 11, 2006 • Seabourn Spirit Port of Kota Kinabalu, Malasia (Borneo) 85°f • humid / hot AND dry land!!!
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Today we arrived at Kota Kinabalu, Malasia - Borneo. As the ship docked there were local dancers dressed in native costumes. They were very friendly and the costumes were dramatic. Mo, the good luck shark, accompanied me off the ship for photos
This was a place we had never heard of before and frankly didn’t know what to expect. We caught the ship’s shuttle bus, after walking the gauntlet of the native band.
The music they were playing was a thrumming strong beat from pounding on native drums accompanies by oriental cymbals and other noise making paraphernalia – I thought I spied one with a new years even noise popper in the background, and the ornately dressed women with bead like leis to give to each departing passenger. We walked through the downtown fish and crafts market.
The FDA would have a heart attack here. Enough regarding the local meat industry. This evening when we reboarded the ship an announcement was made that the Chef had gone ashore and provisioned the ship with fresh fish from the market and intended to make us all a gourmet treat that evening. AGAIN, I had steak!!
As we were returning to the ship to catch our 12:30 pm tour bus, we saw a shop selling bright looking Chinese lanterns. We decided to buy one for our grandson to hang in his bedroom. And we did. It’s beautiful, shaped like a globe and brilliant red and yellow.
The afternoon trip was a tour that took us out to a typical Maylasian fishing village. Enroute they asked for six volunteers to do some crab fishing. They only could get five so I volunteered.
We boarded bamboo rafts and while enroute stopped to throw out crab traps. After we’d set the traps we proceeded to an island to paint native paintings (hands on fun for Dick and Jane) and to receive instruction in and then practical experience using a Blow Gun.
THAT was fun. I discovered it was not as I expected. The darts, as they emerged from the tip of the blowgun had an aerodynamic quality. I wrote this explanation to Little Lenny in an email today: Borneo, until recently, had a large population of Headhunters. In order to prove themselves as warriors they would have to kill an enemy from another tribe. If they weren't able to do it, then the girls of the tribe thought they were cowards and wouldn't marry them. They had to do this in a certain manner. They believed it necessary to sneak up behind their intended victim and cut off the head from behind without being seen. If they were seen, then the ghost would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Only recently did they stop that practice when most became Christians and gained the conviction that murder is wrong.
Learning to use a "Blow Gun". It is a long hollow Tube made of Bamboo. You insert a dart that has a large ball of cotton on the end, then you blow through the tube and the dart shoots out, literally flying, and then sticks into whatever you're aiming at. If you're good at it, you can hit something, like the targets they had out in front of us. If you're me, you shoot your dart into the butt of a passing tourist. The darts are coated with a poison that causes paralysis, so the tourist can only run a few steps before he falls down helplessly. Then you can go over to him and retrieve your dart. Those darts are expensive!
At the end of the fun and games they furnished all of us a typical snack. It consisted of what they called Pancakes with curry sauce, it was kind of like tough tortillas with hot, spicy sauce and a tea that tasted more like a milk shake than tea. This was all enjoyed while sitting on cushions at a table that was about 11 inches high. After we finished we reboarded the bamboo rafts that had brought us (complete with outboard motor on the rear) and returned to our crab traps to retrieve them. Mine was empty as were all except one pulled up by the tour guide. She caught a crab. High point of the tour!
We visited a local market on the way back to the ship and if I had been adventurous, I definitely would have tried some of the delicious looking barbecue they were making at all of the stalls. It looked like fiesta booths in San Antonio. But having seen the meat market, I decided to photograph without partaking. The food was amazingly colorful, with liberal use of local spices.
We made an additional stop at a “pottery factory”, which I correctly assumed was the obligatory “buy something from the local populace stop” that seems to be included in EVERY shipboard tour we’ve ever been on. In this case the artisans working the pottery made an interesting sight. Highly skilled with intricate clay working abilities. We enjoyed watching them work.
When we got back aboard the ship, sailing away from the port was an event. They had a little snack in our room with a welcome back note waiting for us when we arrived.
We went topside on the upper deck to watch as the ship sailed out they served hors d’oeuvres and drinks while a jazz band played. The couple we’re standing with along the railing here is a Baptist minister and his wife. She is also the lady who was seated to my left between me and Lord Montgomery when the Leatherjacket incident occurred.All of the people ashore in Borneo were friendly. Little kids, adults, teenagers would all smile and wave at us on the tour buses and everyone that was on the pier all smiled and waved as we left (even those not paid to do so). We waved back, of course, while eating snacks and sipping cold drinks. IT was great. This is a photo of the girls who worked in a shop that I stopped in to buy a luggage strap.
They saw I had a camera and insisted that I take their picture before I left. I had only one shot left on the roll and didn’t want to waste it but it turned out that it wasn’t a wasted shot since it graphically shows how friendly these folks are. Friday, January 13, 2006 • Seabourn Spirit At Sea the Malacca Straight 26 degrees C • calm sea (at last)
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Today we had a very interesting event occur. We have five sea days remaining until we arrive in Australia. So everyone on the ship is settling in for a long comfortable journey. About 11 am Lucy and I were sitting in the horizon Lounge trying to read, which is becoming more and more difficult, as people are beginning to know us and continued to strike up friendly conversations. I decided to take a walk out on deck for some fresh air. I joined another couple we’d met previously, at the rail on the Port side (left- for you non-naval folk). We were making small talk when we noted something worth looking at in a relatively unrelenting view of ocean from wall to wall.
We saw off near the horizon a fishing boat, which is rare this far out to sea. It appeared that there were Jet ski’s flying around this boat at a distance. As we drew nearer it became obvious that these were not jet skis but high powered outrigger canoes. They were small one man boats maybe eight foot long – there appeared to be nine or so of them each zooming around this fishing boat. They then began speeding towards our ship. Of course, since this is the ship that pirates attacked and attempted to board off of the coast of Africa that filled the national news. Everyone watching was nervous about this development. The gentleman I had lunch with today, a retired college professor, said he was doing a bridge tour, and was on the bridge visiting when all of this unfolded. The ship’s crew picked up the fishing boat on radar and visually sighted these small fast boats circling their base boat. He said within 30 seconds the captain, a full detachment of security people and three other ship’s officers were on the bridge issuing orders to crew via walkie talkies.
Two of the small fast boats drew along side of the ship, but maintained about 30 feet from the side, the others remained back with the fishing boat – we assumed to be their base, because these tiny boats could never have made it this far out to sea on their own. They were fast, the speed with which each of these little boats moved was sufficient to catch our ship within seconds. Much like a jet ski but actually small skiffs with large engines attached. Several of our ship’s security officers appeared at the rail (unarmed – but looking ready). The occupants of these two boats paced us off our port side and looking us over. No one waved at them and they didn’t wave at us either. Usually someone wanting to take a look would smile and wave if that’s all it was. The two boats finally peeled off and returned to the group that was fast disappearing behind us and we continued along, everyone got a topic for the rest of the day.
According to my research, the ocean between here and Australia, passing between Indonesia, the Phillipines and New Guinea is THE most dangerous stretch of water in the world for Piracy. The incidence of pirate attacks in these waters is greater than ten times that found off of the coast of Africa, where the previous attack occurred. I am convinced that these guys were pirates looking for easy prey and found our ship either too large or too well equipped to attempt to board. After the previous attack on this ship near Somalia occurred (the one which was in the news back at home), I did my research and spoke to the cruise line’s customer service Director in Fort Lauderdale. He told me he had been aboard when all of this occurred and that the ship has an acoustic device that focuses a beam of intensely disorienting sound on attackers and that device was part of an overall strategy including several tactical things utilized what warded off the attempt near Somalia. He also hinted, but wouldn’t say it, that the crew is further armed, should the need arise.
So far, the pirates and Pasta for lunch were the high points. Sorry no photos, of the would be Pirates! I didn’t have my camera with me.
Tuesday January 17, 2006 • Seabourn Spirit Port of Darwin, Australia 80 degrees f • It’s raining outside
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This morning we did our arrival requirements into Australia. Everyone aboard the ship was awakened at 0600 and asked to present themselves and their passports to the Australian officials who boarded the ship about one hour from port.
Lucy and I got up early, threw on some clothes and headed to the lounge where they were set up. This lounge is about the same distance from our suite as is our home bedroom to our garage (we’re on the main deck, the front desk and tour office are about ten yards away from out suite also). We walked down before they announced on the ships PA system that everyone should show. We found ourselves, along with a few other’s who had read the bulletin and decided to beat the rush, nearly the first in line – actually no line. As we entered the lounge the ships staff handed us our passports, we walked down and presented them to one of four Aussies at a table near the stage, had our passports stamped. We walked up the other aisle and handed the passports back to the ship’s crew.
What was interesting about this procedure was that they had the maitre D and four of his staff positioned at the entrance and exit to the lounge with beautifully appointed tables, complete with centerpieces, whereupon was set up coffee tea and breakfast pastries for anyone who felt hungry after being yanked out of bed at the ungodly hour of 6am while on vacation.
Today is the first day in four that any sort of food looked appealing to me, must be a good sign. The day after the pirate incident, I became ill. Began with a seriously sore throat – causing great difficulty in swallowing, evolved into a fever and a hacking cough. I decided I had Hydrophobia (rabies).
So, I went to the ship’s doctor and was treated with leeches and a fiery dance complete with magic masks and rattles. Then he and his nurse, (who kept saying “ay yay yay” – reminding me of Ricky Ricardo with a British accent), loaded me up with antibiotics and told me to go forth and get better.
If I hadn’t been so sick I would have had a good laugh over the whole thing. The next morning, after taking the antibiotics for a full 24 hours, my fever was higher and I was NOT getting better, in fact I was seeking Euthanasia. Sea was VERY rough that morning. Lucy and I went down to breakfast. The main dining room is immediately adjacent to the infirmary (I don’t know if that’s a good sign). I was served eggs benedict and the eggs were undercooked, exactly what I did NOT want to see in my current queasy condition….so I poked them around on my plate without eating them. As soon as we finished, it was only a few steps to the clinic. I told the doctor that I must not have had enough of the rattles and leeches because I actually felt worse than when he gave me the treatment. Another examination ensued during which he fell over sideways while trying to look into my ear with one of those ear inspection devices. I have to say the boat was rocking considerably at the time, I feel lucky the ship’s roll was away from me not toward me or my death certificate would have read “impaled upon an ear inspection device – penetrating his brain and causing instantaneous death”. I looked over at the nurse, who said “ay yay yay”. I suggest to her as she helped the doctor back to his feet – that “ay Carumba!” (quote - Bart Simpson) would have been a more appropriate exclamation for an American patient. Whereupon they both looked at me sternly and told me to increase my dosage of Antibiotics and if I noticed that I was turning blue, bleeding from any orifices or DEAD, to have my widow call them immediately.
Three days later, I feel better, good enough to write this with some humor, but still not 100%. Lucy and I have a joke about that. There was a movie a few years ago starring Anthony Hopkins and Alec Baldwin in which the two of them get stranded in Alaska after their small plane crashes. During their cross-country trek to get out of the wilderness, they are pursued by a vicious grisly bear - thereby forming a manly bond that results from two guys sharing a survival situation. Long story short, just prior to their rescue, Alec Baldwin falls into a Bear Trap, a deep pit with wooden spikes at the bottom of it. Of course, he is impaled upon one of these huge pikes. Anthony Hopkins rescues him from the pit and while he is lying near death with a huge pike sticking out of his abdomen, Anthony Hopkins asks him “how do you feel?” Baldwin replies “ I’m really not feeling 100%” in the understatement of the year.
This morning we ate breakfast and I finally was served some Grits the way my sister, Renee, cooks them. I’ve daily been giving instructions to the waiters about how to prepare them and they have been polite but inaccurate in their delivery on every occasion, please refer to a previous discussion over the importance of Grits to daily life.
So today, they actually cooked them with MILK, added salt during the process and delivered a reasonable facsimile of my sister Renee’s cholesterol laden, artery hardening, heart attack inducing GRITS (sound of applause). Immediately upon delivery a waiter magically appeared at my elbow asking me if I would like him to sprinkle SUGAR onto these perfect grits. I bit my tongue and politely said “no thank you”.
So here we are… Arrived in our first native English speaking country since we began this journey and we’re debating if we want to get off and look around. It’s raining puppies… (Raining cats and dogs is heavy, puppies are not so heavy – just messy). They have a complimentary tour this afternoon that is an exposure to the Aboriginal people and their culture. They can’t possibly be as Butt ugly as the aborigine’s I’ve seen on TV and in the movies, so we’re considering going. We’ll go, if only to see if they really ARE that ugly (he who is without sin said from his glass house while casting the first stone, stitching time, saving nine etc. etc. platitude, colloquialism etc.).
I learned yesterday that New Zealanders, the country also being a British Colony, think of themselves as superior to Australians because of their lack of prisoner shipments. None of the British criminals were exiled to New Zealand, only Australia – which was originally begun as a Penal colony – which everyone knows. What you may not know is that New Zealand is home to the Maori tribe of Polynesians (pronounced May oh ree). Those are the Polynesians made famous by their fierce poses with their tongues sticking out, in an effort to look intimidating to their enemies. Most of you have seen this tribe adorning my refrigerator door and may have, if you were lucky, received a birthday card with their likeness on the front of that card – tongues protruding and all. I LOVE these guys!!. However, if ever confronted by one wielding a spear, a war club or other implement of destruction and making those faces at me personally, I plan to be VERY respectful.
I just re-read what I’ve written. I’m rambling, sorry. We got off the ship in Darwin Australia and were driven in a small shuttle bus to the city center. The bus driver’s name was Tony and he was a small scruffy looking old man with a salt and pepper beard and missing several teeth. He was more than happy to give us his unqualified opinion on EVERYTHING. It really was hilarious. He was right out of a Crocodile Dundee movie. He wouldn’t accept a tip, said it was against Australian law to take tips (which was obviously a lie, but a very friendly one).
Darwin is a small, modern town. Some large high rises, very friendly people. Lucy and I took our lunch in a food court where they had a Chinese buffet. This is her saying G’day mate at the food court. Notice how EXOTIC an Australian food court is, COMPLETELY different kind of plastic chairs!
Today is the day that the courtesy tour of the Aboriginal tribe has been arranged and we arrived to get on the bus, five minutes after it had left. So we went and read our books in the Lounge, disappointed that we hadn’t gone. The description of the “complimentary Seabourn experience” (which is furnished once on each cruise) sounded like an in depth exposure to the culture and heritage of the aboriginal people.
Lucy and I were surprised to see the buses return in less than an hour (it was scheduled for two and a half hours). According to first hand reports – everyone was laughing and talking about it when they got back aboard- Here’s what transpired: All of the tourists arrived and were seated in front of a stage whereupon an aborigine dressed in native costume (described as a hotel bath towel draped around his privates like a diaper) walked onto the stage and began the dissertation of the aboriginal history.
It went something like this:
“hello, my name is Fred. I’ve been a tour operator here for ten years. Here are my mates” - whereupon some other aborigines, similarly attired took to the stage in order to play some local instruments. A short concert ensued during which a disagreement among the performers took place and they stormed off of the stage.
Truly an in-depth, culturally enriching experience. Everyone here is getting a good laugh over the whole thing. Which is interesting because on most of the cruises I’ve been on, there would have been a riot with little old ladies so mad they would have been frothing at the mouth while snapping indiscriminately like rabid dogs at any crewmember in sight. However, this lot seems much more refined than the norm. Long story short, we apparently had a bit of good luck by missing the bus. As Brandi, my daughter In law, would say, “its all good”.
Thursday January 19, 2006 • Seabourn Spirit Cruising the Gulf of Carpenteria (Northern Coast of Australia) 81 degrees f • Seas moderate (4 to 8 foot waves HEAVY rain
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We awoke this morning to discover that it is raining cats and dogs. On the positive side, any salt residue is being fully cleansed from the big ole picture window we have in our suite. This thing surely beats a porthole.
So far Lucy has spied flying fish and a giant sea snake out the window. I’ve seen nothing except the PIRATES, which as we all know trumps a fish. I told her that what she saw couldn’t possibly have been a sea snake because she described it as being about 8 foot long and with a girth roughly equivalent to one of my legs. I feel that it was much too large to be a sea snake. I postulated that perhaps the ship had sheared off one of the tentacles of a giant squid that had tried to drag us under and lost. However Jonathan the Aussie (see below) informed us that there ARE sea snakes that big in Australia, mate.
Last night was a great deal of fun. Lucy and I went to the dining room at 7 pm instead of the usual 7:30 when everyone customarily arrives. The dining room opens at 7pm and we thought we’d eat early and go our merry way. However, they sat us at a table for six and we ended up waiting until everyone straggled in and the remaining chairs at the table were occupied before they began serving us (around 7:45).
First, was seated “Jonothan” a Chris Elliot look alike. It turned out he was not a passenger, but a guest aboard. He came down expecting to be fed, much like we did. So we talked to him for about half an hour until everyone else arrived. To my left were a German couple who live in Stuttgart – he’s a retired engineer (another one). Was in charge of the world for Hewlett Packard – his name was “Hartmut”, a name everyone at the table had difficulty pronouncing, so I told him we’d all call him JOE. His wife was Hildegard – picture horned hatted opera singer with trident and fat pony. Now those are two seriously German names. The table was finally rounded out by Stan and his wife Kristen. Stan and his wife look like they might have been a California surfer and his beach bunny forty years ago. Both in their seventies but look much younger.
Stan had been a reporter for CBS and an Anchorman in the San Francisco Bay area (yes, they let him do that even though he was obviously heterosexual and a conservative, we see eye to eye on just about everything). He had some wonderful stories to tell about some of the places he’s been on news assignments, everywhere from Somalia to Afghanistan. He’d been traveling with soldiers so many times that we immediately hit it off as fellow targets of small arms fire. Kristin, his wife, was nice without being presumptuous and both were excellent conversationalists. Stan was the master of ceremonies at Arnold Schwarzenegger’s Governor’s inauguration – he calls himself an Arch Conservative – I told him he was too liberal for me – the Nazi.
So the conversation proceeded. Jonathan, an Australian (the Chris Elliott look alike), was the Pilot who guided us into and out of the harbor at Darwin and had been asked to come aboard for a couple of days to guide the ship safely through the Great Barrier Reef. He was friendly and knowledgeable about all things Australian – and of course, Naval. It turns out it IS actually considered an insult to tip an Australian – so Tony the bus driver wasn’t far off when he said it was illegal. It also turns out that ALL Australians know every other Australian by first name. So when I was relating the Story, he say “oh yeah, you must mean Tony, little scruffy old guy with half his teeth missing and a ratty looking beard” and I said of course THAT’s HIM!
These dinners all start off slowly while everyone has their guard up and gradually gets to know those around them (or until the never ending supply of liquor lubricates the conversation – things are much funnier when you and your compatriots are all half in the bag). Jonathan, however, unaccustomed to the waiters at your elbow providing the “never ending” wine glass – proceeded straight from well educated, well spoken Aussie to the inebriated guy with big opinions, faster than anyone I’ve seen do it since I’ve been aboard. It was hilarious.
Stan got the table talking about religion and politics and everyone began voicing their own diverse opinions. I wish Rita had been here because then we would have had at least ONE liberal to argue with. Hartmut and Hildegard, who both spoke English, but not perfectly, finally got going after several cocktails of their own. We had a great time reminiscing about Stuttgart and then we began talking trash about the mechanical unreliability of BMWs. Stan and his wife both have BMWs and they say they’ve never had a problem, both Helmut – IN GERMANY – and us in San Antonio have found the BMW to be the most unreliable car we’ve ever owned shrouded in a cloud of fancy PR that continuously deludes the public into thinking they are glamorous “driving machines”.
Turns out that Stan and Kirsten drive their BMWs about 3 miles a week, just back and forth to the bridge game or some charity event - so, of course, it hasn’t broken down yet, it is five years old and only has twenty miles on it.
The chef prepared Macaroni and Cheese for me and while everyone was eating shrimp and risotto, my mac and cheese arrived on a special serving dish with white gloved waiters. I said “here, give me that” whereupon I grabbed it out of his gloved fingers and slid it off the plate onto the plate next to my gourmet fare. Everyone was jealous. I continued the evening waving and stabbing my fork in the air, complete with a piece of meat stuck to the end to emphasize my point!!! (whatever that point was – things like –“well, let the democrats eat cake if they’re starving – you know! Or Hillary WHO? And “we don’t care if you crazy Europeans love Bill Clinton – he’s just a Horn Dog who can’t control his overactive labido – no wonder the French love him – their all the same as he is - or CANADA? CANADA? They’re the fifty-first state and don’t even know it).
While sitting at the outdoor bar last evening prior to going to dinner we (I) had a spirited discussion over the TIME here in Australia. All over the world the time is different only in the Hour, i.e. in Florida it is 6pm in the next time zone over – Texas it is 5pm. That continues around the world so that while the hour changes depending upon the zone, the minute is exactly the same around the world… WRONG. Australia is 30 minutes off of the rest of the world. As we’ve crossed time zones, they leave a little note on our bed in the evening that says, please set your clock back one hour or forward one hour as we cross into a new time zone. When we got to Australia the note said “set your clocks ahead 30 minutes” – THIRTY MINUTES???.
I had actually seen this when I was on the internet looking at live weather in Australia before leaving Texas– I thought there was a glitch when it showed the time as 30 minutes off kilter. So, I spent about an hour trying to have an Aussie couple explain it to me – they talked long and hard, but actually had no clue as to why. Then the ships ENGINEER came and sat down and HE DIDN’T know either. Absolutely no idea how that happened. (Lucy had to come and retrieve me – as we walked in I saw that my hair on both sides was sticking straight out from my skull – as a result of the brisk breeze – I looked like ClaraBell – for those of you too young to know who ClaraBelle the clown is – he was Buffalo Bob’s Sidekick from the Howdy Doody show in the early stages of TV – during the first few years/inception of black and white television and the origin of the phrase “the peanut gallery” – think Crusty the clown from the Simpsons). No wonder no one would give me a straight answer about Australian time, I looked like Albert Einstein gone psycho.
Well I’ve made a discovery. Australia is really a continent.
After leaving Darwin the day before yesterday the ships position shown on our television via a small moving ship on the face of a map, showing a white line for where we’ve been and a small arrow showing direction of travel next to the ship – for two days we’ve been at sea and WE’RE NOT MOVING on the map. We’re to arrive at a place called Thursday island tomorrow at 9am. In the interim, I’ve realized that Australia is almost as large as the United States, coast to coast. We stopped in Darwin – think Seattle (but more the size of Crystal City) and now we’re sailing across Canada to turn south on the eastern shore and proceed down to Washington DC – which about where Cairns would be if the Australian map were superimposed over the US.Three more days aboard before we disembark in Cairns and go to Hayman Island on the Great Barrier Reef. Hayman Island is purported to be one of the top 10 most beautiful resorts in the world.
Tomorrow we are at “Thursday Island”. This is a quote directly from the ship’s Daily Bulletin:
IMPORTANT – CARE AT THE BEACH!!!
We recommend all of our guests be vigilant whilst (sic) swimming in the sea. This is high season for Jellyfish and they may be present in the water and present a risk of stings (okay so far, I can handle jellyfish). If stung, please seek assistance as soon as possible. (Wait for it, here it comes…..) There have also been reports of sightings of Crocodiles and there are warnings posted on the island warning of the crocodile presence. NO SWIMMING FOR ME!
Thursday Island Australia
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Just came back from a quick trip onto Thursday Island. We arrived today and the sun came out in all its glory. We are surrounded by crystal blue waters and beautiful lush islands. NOW THIS IS WHAT I’M TALKING ABOUT- finally it looks like we’re in the south pacific paradise we envisioned. Very tiny town – three stores – two of which were closed, a cultural center, which we visited, was beautiful
While sitting in the cultural center, Lucy and I decided to sit down and have a soft drink. We pulled up a chair next to a table full of locals. When we looked over we realized it was Rita’s Playgroup transplanted to Australia, all young mothers with their babies. Of course I snapped a photo. They look JUST like DALLAS.
We also found a native arts shop. Lucy was looking for a gift for Grandma Underwood and found several hand-painted silk scarves on display. Lucy pointed out, which was a surprise to me, that mom likes scarves.
We inquired and they told us how much they wanted. I fainted dead when I heard the price. When I woke up I was still on the floor and Lucy was pulling me by my collar (dragging me towards the door). It was obscene how much they wanted.
They then launched into the world renown of this artist etc. etc. etc. We were almost to the door when my Miami beach mentality kicked in and I blurted out (from the floor)– how about taking $ X (roughly 1/10 of what they had proposed). Aussies never get insulted, it's truly weird.
She laughed and said sorry, they don’t bargain. We again proceeded towards the door with Lucy embarrassed to negotiate further, when I suggested that this lady get on the phone, call the artist and ask HIM. She said he lives in the middle of the desert and couldn’t be reached by phone. So I said, well is this the twenty first century OR WHAT? - call him on his cell, send him and email, launch a kite with letters dangling below.
Then she says, wait a minute, mate. Perhaps I CAN e-mail him. She did, he said okay (to a slight reduction, not the tenth I initially offered) ended up at around 60% of original price – which still required an armed guard to take us back to the ship. Long story short, MOM got a beautiful hand painted australian artist created scarf!! I’ve photographed it here, but the colors are much more vibrant and rich than herein portrayed. You will NOT find this scarf at WalMart!!!
I can’t wait to get off this boat and get into the water!!! Wahoo, two more days. By the way, ITS HOT HERE!!!
Well yesterday was magnificent. The sun came out, the sea turned turquoise and the islands were verdant green. Everyone showed up to sun bathe (and that was a pretty dismal sight with this bunch – exception was Lucy).
We sailed away from Thursday Island in calm seas and sunlight. There was lots of interesting scenery along the way. Loads of Islands and secluded beaches. We noticed on many of the islands that there were pinnacles of rock sticking up at odd angles at random. It didn’t appear that they belonged there and we were debating whether they were man made or natural. Examination through the binoculars determined they were natural. 
Last evening was formal again, so I dressed in my Tuxedo and Lucy put on her formal wear. I got her to try one her little black dress again so I could photograph her, but she didn’t want to wear the same thing twice, hence she humored me for the photo and then changed in to another outfit.
Dinner was once again great fun. The maitre D selected our dinner partners. This evening it was a husband and wife team who were aboard as entertainers and the husband and wife minister couple from Florida. They were string players, he did the violin and his wife did the Cello. They were Australian from Sydney. He looked a little like a young Elton John and told us a few stories how he had been mistaken for Elton John. We all smiled and said, is that right? You don’t say…. They were very nice people all around. I asked the other two couples at our table to recount how they met. A few day prior we had heard, under similar circumstances some very romantic stories. WOW, that was a mistaken question at THIS table.
It became obvious that we were the only two at the table who had not been divorced and remarried. Both couples had strange stories, but the minister was sensitive enough to clean his story up. Apparently the ugly Elton john look alike had stolen his bride from another fellow member of the Adelaide Australia symphony – whereupon I asked them, “are you actually married NOW?”. My story was much better. I met Lucy while I was in flight school, three months later we were married and now 35 years later we are still in love and enjoying our lives together.
SUNDAY, JANUARY 22, 2006 CAIRNS, NORTHERN TERRITORY OF QUEENSLAND, AUSTRALIA
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As we were arriving this morning at our disembarkation port of Cairns, I looked out of our window to see a number of beautiful beachfront hotels passing by as we sailed to the dock. The Hilton, the Shangri La, I began to have misgivings about the instruction I had given the travel agent before we began the trip. I told him to find me the cheapest clean hotel he could come up with near the airport, since we’ll only be here one night.
We arrived at the hotel and it was very nice. Not luxurious but modern, well air conditioned and very clean. So misgivings were wrong.
We are traveling to the Great Barrier Reef tomorrow morning. The flight leaves at 7:15 am and flies for an hour and a half (small twin engine plane) and arrives at Hamilton Island at nearly 9 am. There we are to be picked up on a “yacht” (I hope there is an Oar for me) and will sail two hours to the Great Barrier Reef and the private island that is the Hayman Island Resort. There is a weight restriction on baggage due to the size of the airplane and we are both limited to 30 lbs of checked baggage and 10 lbs of carry on. We spent the day unpacking our suitcases and trying to figure out how to put 2000 lbs into a 5 lb. bag. We finally completed that task.
During the day we took a taxi downtown. Cairns is a “quaint” small town of about 100,000 people. Today is Sunday and we needed to have a bite to eat. Most of the businesses and restaurants were closed. We found an open Chinese restaurant (we were the only customers in the restaurant, so we took a table by the window). Within a couple of minutes, one of the couples we’d met on the boat came strolling down the street and banged on the window to say hi (Hartmut and Hildegard).
After we finished lunch, we began to wander around looking for a taxi to get us back to the hotel and came across a farmers / flea type market in the center of town, everything from fruit and crafts to jewelry all being sold by colorful vendors. One guy tried to sell me a bottle of “nony” Juice of some sort. I asked him what it was, since I’d never heard of it before and he said, “well mate, this is the foulest tasting, worst smelling stuff you’ve ever seen in your life” . Well, you’re one hell of salesman I told him “it’ll cure what ails ya, however” he continued. Interesting that snake oil salesman went away many years ago in the US. Australia is like the US used to be in the 1800’s.After the rest of the afternoon at the hotel, sorting suitcases (we’ll store most here in the hotel until we return), I went out to get some takeout food from a giant (what appeared to be) liquor store immediately next door. The desk clerk said they had great pizza. So over the hill I went, next door, while Lucy waited in the room and continued to organize.
I couldn’t believe it when I walked in. It’s Sunday afternoon around 6pm and here is a HONKY TONK full of Aussies. The place was divided into three areas, a restaurant, a bar and a gambling room with slot machines. I ordered the food (NOT pizza, their pizza had PINEAPPLE on uit) and they said about fifteen minutes, go take a seat. The band had about six people in it and was going to town playing great music. There was an older, “heavy duty” lady dancing full blast (kind of swing type dancing) with a younger twenty something girl and they were amazing. The place was wall to wall with weirdly dressed and weird looking Australians. There was a guy at the next table from me with a shaved head and an 8 ball painted on the back of his skull. I sat there for half an hour and the band never stopped.
I really regretted that Lucy had remained in the room and wasn’t here to enjoy the goings on with me. Since we’re coming back here on Thursday before our flight to Hawaii (which leaves at 1:30 in the morning). I asked the cashier if this band and party atmosphere was common, she said yeah they have a band here every day. BUT Thursday was a particularly big day. CHICKEN bowling. What’s that, you ask. They bowl frozen chicken. I LOVE these Australians.
They all have kind of a look about them (out of about 200 people in that bar, there wasn’t a single one who really looked good) – if I had to desribe it, I’d say that it looks like a few generations of cousins got married and produced this lot. I was wearing my T-shirt that says “My imaginary friend thinks you have mental problems” - I fit right in. I wish I had taken my camera with me, but who expects a little joint like that to be kicking on a Sunday afternoon.
Well Goodnight and good luck talk to all, talk to you next from Hayman (reputedly one of the top ten resorts in the world). If it rains every day, I’ll let you know – what they told me was “if you’re scuba diving, mate, you’ll be wet already”!
MONDAY - WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 23-26TH, 2006
– HAYMAN ISLAND, WHITSUNDAY ISLANDS
GREAT BARRIER REEF, AUSTRALIA
When we arrived at Hamilton island, everyone who was going to our resort, Hayman island, lined up at a desk where a male receptionist was greeting everyone who arrived at the airport.
They took our baggage checks and told us "no worries mate, we'll deliver to your room". That “no worries, Mate” seems to be a theme here in Australia. Everyone says it constantly. So we didn’t even have to pick up our own bags from the plane that brought us. While standing there next to the arrival desk I struck up a conversation with the young man at the desk (while waiting for Lucy to return from the restroom), I was doing my usual bragging about being a washed up pilot.
I was told by the young guy at this reception desk in the airport that we had been "upgraded" in our transportation. Instead of riding on the Yacht - and it turned out it really WAS a huge yacht - we were to be flown out on a SEAPLANE. There was a kid standing there, next to the desk (who I thought was a baggage handler) who turned out to be the captain of the seaplane. He asked me if I'd like to copilot. Of course I said sure and away we went.
Everyone else got aboard the Yacht (and yes, it WAS a yacht - no oars or anything). The airport was right next to the pier where the ships dock – and I mean right there, within about fifty yards – it was like a part of the airport. So Lucy and I, along with two other couples boarded a SEAPLANE that held 8 Giant picture windows all around- I rode in the co-pilots seat and refrained from criticizing this young pilots technique - actually it was quite good.
The plane was an old world war II, single engine, DeHaviland and the view from the cockpit was not as good as that Lucy had in the back, immediately behind me.
So the flight over took us only 15 minutes, the Yacht took about two hours. We got here before the crowd and were settled in and had our room before the yacht folks arrived. 
THIS is an amazing resort. Our room is on the top floor of three and overlooks 5 pools, four saltwater pools surrounding one fresh water pool.
The hotel is built in an open "U" shaped around a HUGE and incredibly beautiful pool complex. It’s three stories high in terraces all with large balconies overlooking the pool and the ocean. When you walk out the door of your suite (opposite direction from the pool) you are faced with a walkway which backs up to a verdant jungle. AND I mean JUNGLE.
The place is lousy with strange creatures and birds (to talk like a 1940's gumshoe - detective for you youngsters). Lucy and I were waiting for transportation via these little golf carts that they use to move people around the resort and we looked up into the giant trees surrounding us and saw huge numbers of giant hanging bats high up in the trees.
They turned out to be Fruit bats (they only eat fruit). They were big enough to snatch up a small child and carry him to the Bat Cave.
They gave us one of their best rooms with magnificent views. I discovered in examining the hotel from our balcony that the rooms on the first floor have a LADDER and a little gate that allows them to walk directly out onto their balcony and climb down into this GIANT pool.
There are actually four interconnected pools - all are salt water except the one in the center that the others surround, it's fresh water.
The rooms are tile floored (the advertisement says Italian tile), beautiful bed and two nice comfortable overstuffed chairs. Whenever you go out onto the balcony Cockatoos appear hoping for food. It’s been amusing to see newly arrived guests make the mistake of walking away from their food in any of the outdoor restaurants, to go the the restroom or to get up to get something from the buffet and upon returning find their table occupied by a couple of dozen of these birds helping themselves to everything on the table, including drinking the champagne. They can hold their liquor pretty well, though. I haven’t seen one fly into a wall yet.
This morning I was in the shower, it is a frosted glass enclosure with both a hand held spray nozzle and a giant shower head in the ceiling that would beat down superman to the ground with the pressure. So there I am singing opera and scrubbing vigorously and I look up and there is a GIANT insect in the shower with me. It was a grasshopper that was easily six inches long. Now, normally I'm not afraid of grasshoppers (after having been forced to eat them in the army during survival training), but this one didn't look too delicious. AND I was Naked.
The thought of this gargantuan jumping onto me was less than thrilling. I had to call upon all of my reserves of military training before running screaming like a little girl out of the shower (not really, but I thought about it seriously). What I actually did was kept my eye on it carefully and continued to shampoo my hair and shave. I reasoned that a Bic razor could do some serious damage if an attack was launched. Yesterday, I called and complained to management that the airconditioner was making too much noise. They sent out a repair crew while we were gone snorkeling. Last night, same noise. Lucy was upset, she said between my snoring and this loud buzzing from the airconditioner she couldn't sleep and had to take a sleeping pill. WELL...... it turns out the loud buzzing may have been this grasshopper.
When I woke up this morning around 6 am I heard the noise continuing and noticed that as I got closer to the door it grew louder. I cracked the door and the sound of the Cicadas (or whatever the Australians call them) emanating from the Jungle was deafening and it was absolutely the sound we'd been complaining about.
The resort took us aboard a speedboat yesterday with a few other people and sped us out to the other side of the island to a spot called "blue pearl II". The boat dropped us off with an umbrella, towels and everything they felt we needed to have a good time, including an emergency kit complete with a cell phone to call them if anything happened and we needed help or wanted to come back earlier than arranged.
We suited up (they have a Jelly fish here called the Box jelly fish whose sting can be FATAL, so everyone wears full body dive suits) and went snorkeling. It was fantastic. The fish, of course, were all over the place. Brilliant colors. These little (about 6 - 8 inches long - just bite sized) were following us around and had absolutely no fear. They were within inches of the front of our masks. I had to keep flicking them with my finger to get them out of my way. After we finished snorkeling and were awaiting pick up, I got hot and went back into the water without my full body suit. That was the ONLY time I even SAW a jelly fish. Funny. The minute I was unprotected, I glanced up through my mask and there floating about three to five feet away from me, just below the surface was a beautiful Jellyfish, doing the thing we've all seen at the aquarium, opening and closing slowly to propel itself through the water, just a few inches below the surface. I steered a wide berth from that little guy and kept going.
The coral was amazing. I have never seen so many varieties of coral, including one that was a brilliant royal blue, almost purple. Clams opening and closing with fluorescent lips. I can't think of what to call the interior portion of a clam, but it looks like a cushion – any sponge Bob fans want to tell me what it is? - the colors of that interior portion protrude out, even when it's closed and while we are all familiar with the clam's shell, the portion that is inside the shell and protrudes out when it is closed (the actual living clam) is brilliant fluorescent blue with spots - if you fan a little water towards the clam it will "clam up" and the lips will compress and suck back into the shell, but you can still see it. Fish from large to tiny were everywhere.
There were a couple of other sailboats docked there and floating above all of this was a small gnarled looking guy in a tiny zodiak (pontoon raft boat) with an outboard motor on the back.
His job was to verbally harangue anyone foolish enough to stand up on the coral. AND he did so with vigor. Lucy and I are educated enough to know not to touch coral or stand on it, as they are delicate tiny animals which will die from contact. A coral reef like this takes tens of millions of years to create. In the Caribbean and other places where coral once thrived, much of it is dead due to tourists damaging it through contact or touch. Coral has it's revenge, however, because if you actually touch coral with your hand or any other part of your body - live coral that is - the hard shell will cut you and the enzymes from the actual coral will cause a painful sting and infection nearly immediately.
Well this guy was doing his job well. We were privileged to listen to a 10 minute tirade that everyone on the island heard as he insulted the parentage, nationality and general physical appearance of this one guy who STOOD up on what he described as a "rock". The rock, of course was probably a large coral called a "brain coral" which looks like a big round human brain. The discussion went something like this: " Hey... Get your %$((*&&$#@ butt off the coral" "I'm NOT on the coral I'm standing on a ROCK" "well your momma is a -@#^$$^*$^#&^%*^&**&*_*_*()*)_!!!!" "NO SHE'S NOT!! etc. etc. etc.
By the way, in case you're wondering, I actually got a towel and dove onto the grasshopper. It bucked me around the bathroom for a few minutes but finally succumbed to my thrashing it through a towel with a heavy blunt object. I left it wrapped up in the towel for the maid to discover. Well tomorrow we return to Cairns. We want to go back on the Yacht not the plane, because I'm not impressed with planes as much as everyone else.
One of the most interesting things that happened to us was, on the final day we decided to go to the pool. I watched from our balcony until the deck chairs that Lucy wanted came available, then I called down and talked to the pool gal and asked her to reserve us those chairs until we came down.
We went down and had a swim and while we were sunbathing a rainstorm appeared and started getting everyone wet.
Everyone had large umbrellas except for one or two sets of chairs, including ours. We covered up with our towels to wait for it to stop. It didn’t. It just started raining harder and the wind started blowing – I had to hold on to the umbrella to keep it from blowing away. After about ten minutes, everyone was gone except us and one other couple. We watched another couple that was eating lunch continue to do so fully exposed to the elements. They finally gave up and left as well. After about twenty minutes we gave up and left the couple who was next to us as the sole remaining folks at the pool. It was fun, believe it or not.
When we get back to Cairns we'll stay in a hotel for the afternoon until around midnight when we have to go to the airport and take a flight that leaves at 1:30 am to Guam and change planes to Honolulu. We're looking forward to the flowers and smells of Hawaii. When we get there our cell phones will work and we'll call everyone. They haven’t been used in a month, they must be rusty by now.
