Thursday, 20 November 2014

2014 - Day 23 - Third USA Trip - The Panama Canal

Today we arrived at the Panama Canal.  It was such an awe inspiring piece of engineering for its time.  Its completion in 1914 (the same year that World War 1 started and the Titanic sunk) made such a massive impact on North, South and Central America.  No longer did vessels have to sail down to the bottom of South America and round Cape Horn, as they could transit in between Central and South America.  If course ships have now virtually outgrown the size of the original canal so an extension is being built due for completion in 2016.  The ship we are travelling on, the Island Princess is the largest possible ship that can still fit through the original canal.  Going through the locks, there is less than a metre to spare so requires patience, experience, technique as well as the power of several mules (engines) that the ship becomes attached to, to make the journey.  Going through the locks happens several times, on the Pacific Ocean side, and the Atlantic Ocean side.  With the ship in the ‘lock”  thousand and thousand of gallons of water are either rushed into the lock to allow the ship to rise to the next level of the canal, or released from the lock to allow the ship to lower to the next level.  It takes roughly 8 to 10 hours for a ship to travel the whole length of the 80 kilometre canal although I can tell you that it felt a whole lot longer.

As the helicopter hired by Princess Cruises circled the ship to record the event, we held up the sign we had made in geriatrics craft class (which said hi to our children) so that the camera could get some pictures of us doing exactly that.  After awhile, it was just me holding the sign hi above my head trying to attract the helicopter in a way that only I can do.  After another while, and when my arms got tired, I gave the idea away.  If they didn’t capture a photo of the short, fat duck in the bright orange shirt waiving a very colourful sign above her head in the first couple of hours…..then I would take it out of their hide.

We saw very little in the way of birds and wildlife along the waters edge apart from the odd pelican or seagull.  We did see a crocodile in the water when in a larger section of the canal coming up to one of the locks.  I figured that the least it could do was launch itself out of the water and take down a bird or one of the old people just to make the day more interesting.  This being said, the area expert on board told us that a person off one of the ships DID get taken by a croc once upon a time when jumping in the water to retrieve a ladies camera which had accidently fallen in.  Quite frankly if my camera fell in I would be jumping also, as that is one of the things that has me hanging onto my last shred of sanity.  I would be willing to take the gamble at this point in time.

Whilst it was the Panama Canal that we had all come to see, and whilst we thought it was pretty darned amazing, after the first few hours, it was as boring as bat shit.  It was a long, slow journey where the oldies wanted to wave at every single person they spotted on the shore and waived like complete retards (ok….so I was in on that with the helicopter….but I wanted the photo!) and seriously, once you saw the first set of locks, the rest was more of the same.  Mind you, we were travelling through the ORIGINAL canal on its 100th Anniversary so that was pretty special…..but that didn’t make it any more interesting.  

Some pretty weird conversations were had by the Bear and me.  He pointed out that the absolutely atrocious musician/comedian/pathetic person was out on the balcony a couple of decks down from us and along a little bit.  I had sort of tuned out for a little bit and heard him say “and that’s something you don’t want to see in the morning”.  Attempting to catch up on the conversation by adding a comment to indicate I had been “listening” I said “a hard on?”   Mortified the Bear exclaimed “No! The  woman!”     He was gesturing toward the same balcony that the musician was on, and the tattooed thing that was with him.  Whoops!

I also tried to add a bit of Spanish to my limited vocabulary given that most of the central and southern parts of America speak the language and asked the Bear for some hints.  As it turned out, I had been saying “Allah” instead of “Hola” when greeting these people.  Stuffed if I know how I haven’t had my head cut off.  Perhaps that is what has saved me thus far?

I stayed out on the balcony longer given that I didn’t want to miss a thing just in case something interesting DID happen (or so that I wouldn’t miss the helicopter should it come back), I sat with my travel diary and my pen.   The notes I made were as follows.  Make of them what you will:

 

  • Is that the ships horn?  No that’s the old bloke next door farting.
  • I wonder if they have denture throwing on this ship instead of quoits? 
  • On this ship, the Maitre De also has the job description of Funeral Director/Mortician.  On this boat they sure would need it.
  • I really need to come up with a better nickname for Grumpy Cat (one of our regular waiters)
  • My eye-lids and upper arms (my fadoobooters) now hold their shape when pinched.  F**k my life.
  • How do they get the seed out of an olive and then restuff it without tearing the hole?
  • I think the man in the next stateroom is dying.  Seriously.
  • If you came from Ingham, would you admit it?
  • Seriously, what IS that prong in the shower?
  • Are we there yet?

Wednesday, 19 November 2014

2014 - Day 22 - Third USA Trip - What a dreadful show!

So much for our attempt at an early morning swim on the ship.  We have woken to a rather large electrical storm.   We put off the idea of a swim to another day.

Today there is really not a great deal to report on for two reasons.  First, we were at sea all day on route to Panama.  Secondly, as it is Wednesday, it is “Formal Night”.  There are several formal nights on board.  This is where you cannot eat in the dining rooms unless the men are wearing the likes of a dinner suit or tuxedo, and the women are wearing the likes of a cocktail dress.  The Bear and I deliberately chose NOT to bring any clothes of this nature.  This is also for a couple of reasons.  First, we are on vacation!  Why on earth we would want to dress up formally during our holiday?  The easy answer to that is….we don’t!  Second, I will wear a dress on three occasions.  My own wedding, perhaps another persons wedding, and funerals.  I have never owned a cocktail dress is my life and wasn’t about to buy one at aged nearly 48.  Third, I don’t like suits.  They remind me of my father and I do not want that. Make of that what you will.

On formal nights, we have one of two choices for dinner – the buffet, or room service which has a limited menu.  Given that it’s far too warm for hell to have frozen over, we refuse to eat at the buffet.  To eat there is a life threatening expedition where we can be trampled to death given the 2000 people willing to stampede just to get the first bread roll, so we settle for a cheeseburger and fries from room service.

After dinner we decided to go to the scheduled show as it came as being highly recommended by our aging, cruise director, Richard.  Richard looks like the love child of Captain Stubing and the Paddlepop Lion.  Given Richards possible alternative sexual preference we feel that he may have impeccable taste (like my other much loved gay friends) and we opted to go to the show on his recommendation.  This is despite needing to sit amid the several hundred old folk in their formal attire.  The penguins and their ladies (mutton dressed us as ham) looked down their noses at the folk dressed in smart casual wear that dotted the theatre.  That is like waiving a red flag at a bull with me, so with every one of their prim and proper moves, I counteracted it with one of mine. Childish?  Yes!  Fun?  You bet!  It’s always fun to get up the nose of the suits.

The show we were there to see was for a comedian/musician.  I wasn’t sure how they went together but giving that I love both comedy and music, and given that this show came highly recommended, I was looking forward to it.  When the “star” of the show (with an aging has-been rocker look) came onto the stage, he asked who had seen his show before.  More than half of the crowd stuck up their hands and cheered loudly.  This confirmed what I already believed – that it would be a hell of a show.

The bloke started singing his first song “Just a Gigolo” in a scratchy, out of tune voice.  I figured that this must be the comedy part of the act.  Unfortunately….it wasn’t.  I am fairly sure that all of the oldies must have had their hearing aides turned down because they cheered wildly.   As he launched into his one and only joke (one which I had heard before I left primary school) I thought the old folk would have a heart attack from their laughing. I mean seriously, how had they not heard this before?  And it wasn’t even funny!

His second song was “You are so beautiful” by Joe Cocker.  He totally destroyed that song whilst the crowd cheered wildly.  I was enormously offended as that song should not be trashed by anyone – least of all a one person act, an aging and extraordinarily bad comedian/musician.  He launched into a set of songs by Rod Stewart and despite the oldies (whom I know decided were completely deaf) applauding each time, I was more and more convinced that this bloke was a hack.   In fact the Bear described him as “heinous”.

There was not another single joke, just more very bad singing and more adoring applause to the point where we could take no more.  Clearly most of these people were at the wrong end of dementia.  Much to the surprise of the penguins and the mutton we got up and walked out mid performance.   Seriously, WTF?  I should not be surprised that this was the quality of “first class act” on this floating old aged people’s home, but shit I wouldn’t have imposed this dude on my worst enemy!

We went back to our stateroom with the intention of having an early night.  Tomorrow morning we will begin the transit through the Panama Canal before am so we want to be up for that!

Tuesday, 18 November 2014

2014 - Day 21 - Third USA Trip - Costa Rica

We woke up today to see our Prime Minister being ridiculed on the satellite US NEWS.  We might be in the middle of the Pacific Ocean however one of the NEWS channels that broadcast on the boat headlined with Tony Abbott having problems trying to do a three-way arm/hand connection with 2 others at the G20 summit.  How embarrassing. Not so much with what Tony did, but with how America is presenting Australians. 

Just while I am at it, I want to make mention of something that is in our bathroom here.  We have a shower over a bathtub in our stateroom.  It is small but adequate.  I am confused by something in it however.  Like all showers it has a shower rose, and like all bath tubs it has a faucet/tap.  But unlike anything I have seen before, it has a third option for running water and it is through a pointy prong thing.  I haven’t the faintest idea what it’s for so can only presume it’s for DIY colonic irrigations.  The mention of politics just reminded me of other things that give people the shits therefore reminding me of the prong.   If anyone has any other ideas I sure would be glad to hear them because I can’t take my damned eyes of the thing. *insert puzzled look here*

We docked this morning at Puntarenas, Costa Rica and fortunately it looked to be a lot better that Nicaragua yesterday.  The beaches were lined with gorgeous coconut palms and reasonably clean sand.  It was darker than we have at home however given that we are in a highly active volcanic region of the world the sand is a little different.  I knew my day was going to be a little better than yesterday when it started with one of the locals saying I looked as “good as candy”.  This may have meant he was partial to gobstoppers but I don’t care.  I was quite thrilled with the reference.

We were dreading going on our chosen tour after yesterdays mess however were surprised to find this a little more organised and with the coaches clean, smelling nice, and without water pouring from anywhere.  Our tour guide, Maria, was very fluent in English and I marvelled at how she swung from Spanish to English without hesitation.  I have picked up a few words since travelling through these countries however what little vocabulary I have just would lead the locals to thinking I was polite.  Those who know me know better! Si?

Like Nicaragua, Costa Rica is a poor country although is in better shape due to pure and utter commitment.  Its ethics should have Australia hanging its head in shame.    They work to earn every cent they have.  You don’t work, you don’t eat.  Education is placed above everything.  If you score above 90% in your final exams you get a free…..yes FREE…pass to University where you don’t have to pay a cent.  They believe that this is incentive to try hard at school and make something of yourself.  They do not have an army as they do not believe in war.  If there is something to be fought over, they prefer to settle it over a cup of coffee.  Your taxes go into preserving the environment, saving endangered species and keeping the place clean.  I could go on and on but it just depresses me about Australia.  Their motto is “Pura Vida” which means Pure Life.  Hats off to them.

In Costa Rica we chose to visit a Macaw Sanctuary where they are preserving this precious species and trying to reproduce the ones that are down to critical levels.  These gorgeous birds come in many brilliant colours.  You cannot touch the birds, photograph them with flashes, touch the cages (although several old farts did their level best to ignore ALL of the rules), or even talk to the birds (this drove the Bear absolutely mental).  There were multiple sorts of monkeys (in addition to the Bear) and a couple of “Tapir” which would have to be one of the most bizarre looking animals (besides myself) that I have ever seen.  I was privileged enough to be allowed to feed one a carrot as I had no trace of insect repellent or sunscreen (yeah I know….naughty) on my skin.    This beautiful sanctuary is up in the hills behind Puntarenas in a landscape that was very similar to that of Cairns.  We loved it. 

The people of Costa Rica were beautiful.  I would definitely visit there again.

Back on board the ship we had to pass through security as we do every time we leave.  Each port is a different country and although we don’t get our passports stamped (this sucks!) we still have to go through the usual protocol when departing.   We also have to have our ship card barcode registered with a machine as that tells the Captain when all are on board.  The machine makes a zip and a beep with each card it scans.  Imagine the fun we have, lined up single file (if you don’t include the many old folk, trying to overtake and merge illegally as though we are on the Warrego) with the same old folk imitating the noises of the machine.  *rolls eyes* I mean GROW UP PEOPLE!!!

We still haven’t been for a swim on the ship.  At first this was because I was self conscious of myself in my togs.  That flew out the window when I saw the first bearded clam with teeth, hanging from an old dears bathers and the matted hair on her husbands back.  Road kill was a prettier sight. We are at sea all day again tomorrow, on route to the Panama Canal the following day, so perhaps we might try to get up on deck whilst the oldies are still having their morning prunes.  By the smell of it, there is enough chlorine to kill off most bacteria in everyone’s wrinkly bits so we might see if tomorrow is ago. 

I am desperately looking out to sea every day asking “Are we there yet?”  I know that we are very blessed to be where we are, and most of my comments are tongue in cheek….but I am really missing my bed, my kids and especially my dogs on this trip….although with each day, my big operation is getting closer.  Shit.  There is just no pleasing me eh?! Si!



 

 

 

 

Monday, 17 November 2014

2014 - Day 20 - Third USA Trip - Nicaragua

*Today was just simply not funny.  I can’t even pretend to try and write funny today*

Thank heavens.  Today we arrived in San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua.  I was fairly sure the ship had taken a wrong turn, and we would end up in the same place as Malaysian Airlines MH370. Too soon?

This was the biggest load of bullshit of a day that I have ever experienced.  First of all, it was a matter of getting 2000 passengers across to the mainland, all in time to start their respective tours.  This meant collating them in one area on the ship, where we had stickers placed on our shirts (I wanted one that said “Number 1 Princess” but had to be satisfied with one that said “Brown 3”. Not happy Jan) like kindergarten children and told to sit in rows in one of the theatres.  We had to stay there until our “sticker name” was called. 

A shower of rain went over whilst everyone was waiting in the theatre, and apparently that meant that all transfers to shore had to cease for the time being.  This meant being stuck in the theatre for an extended period of time, with me sitting right beside a lady who was wearing copious quantities of “Essence of Garlic”.  I had to appear deeply engrossed in my passport in an effort to shields my nostrils from the revolting smell.   Given that I can only flick through the pages of my passport 1000 times before it starts looking suspicious, I thought I would try to buy myself time with some clean air and went in search of the closest loo.  I know that clean air and loo do not go together, however I decided that it might be an idea for me to go before going ashore.  The weakened bladders of the elderly are very contagious!

At the bathrooms there was a large line up, no doubt due to the fact that most of the public restrooms on board were broken.  It might have seemed more simple to come back up to our stateroom however if my sticker number was called telling me that it was time to go, and then I would be unable to hear it.  That meant….I had to stand in the line.  By the time I got to the top of the line I was actually busting to go.  As it turned out, there definitely were a few toilets not working hence our delay.  I was very relieved to finally be at the top of the queue and to see a cubicle become vacant.  An elderly woman around 80 years old walked out of the cubicle and hobbled cross legged past her.  Slamming the door I spun around…….and stopped.  There on the toilet seat, was a decent sized nugget.  And when I say nugget….I don’t mean of the gold kind.   The dear (?????) old thing had left a deposit on the toilet seat…..and her used toilet paper was on the floor. 

To say I was disgusted would have been a gross understatement.  I briefly toyed with the idea of leaving that cubicle and waiting again at the back of the line.  This thought was quickly dispelled given that I was on the verge of peeing my pants, and also because the person that walked in after me would think that I was the grub that did it.  This left me with only one choice – I had to clean it.   First though I filed a mental image in my head of the woman who had left the cubicle before me so that I could absolutely throttle her if I came across her again. I am assuming she wiped her butt and thought she flicked the paper in the toilet however given that the paper did not make it in, a piece of the Polly waffle has landed on the seat. I mean seriously, how does a person do this?  I grabbed a good 6 rolls of toilet paper and took care of the issue before taking care of my own tinkle, and washing my hands 3000 times at least.   I could not believe it.  I could not….believe it.

I took my place back in the kindergarten, in between the Bear and Garlic Breath and waited patiently for “Brown 3” to be called.  When this was eventually called we lined up in a way that Old MacDonald would have been absolutely thrilled with.  We were not cows and sheep anymore.  We were one big melting pot of the whole barnyard going through the line single file without having to be poked with a cattle prod.  We are not on the Island Princess.  We are on the frigging Ark.  We took our places on the tender taking us to the mainland, and looked forward to our day in Nicaragua.

The buses (rusted metal on bald tyres) met us at the pier and we were introduced to our tour guides.  I have no idea what the name of ours was because I couldn’t understand a word he said.  I am sure it would have been something like Manuel, Jorge or Carlos though.  The bus stunk horrendously of mould however we managed to overcome this smell by taking up the only seats left on the bus, those right next to the extraordinarily revolting loo.  This was made worse by one old guy who obviously felt the need to take the dump from hell not long after departing (the tour guy then told the bus that you are not meant to do “Number 2s” on the bus but that ship had already sailed) however it did relieve our pain for just a little while as it literally knocked us out.   This was going to be a dreadful 2 hour journey to Grenada chockers full of the nearly departed.

Nicaragua is a poor, poverty stricken country that has yet to recover from its war.  They have only been in peace time since 1990 and I dare say it will take another 50 years at least to rebuild in full.   I cannot imagine living in a place like this especially given that war on their doorstep is a not too distant memory.  Like anywhere though, if you want to survive, you have to work.  I wanted to save every animal I saw though.  Dogs and horses looked very hungry and in fact, one sight (a dog on a rope) brought me very close to tears.  This was only stopped by the fact that I was in the company of a large amount of people.

On the way to Grenada we stopped on the edge of Lake Nicaragua to look at Mombacho and Concepcion Volcanoes. These are two active volcanoes which hold an almost perfect cone shape.   Its quite mind blowing actually being so close to an active volcano although I really hoped that I wouldn’t be seeing an eruption today.  My head had already had enough today and we were still an hour and a half from Grenada 

The roads were not that bad although the lack of shockies in the rust bucket did some serious damage to our teeth.  It was ok for the old folk who had dentures as they could just put them in their pockets.  Those on the bus that still had their own teeth (and I could count those….on 2 fingers) became people that most dentists dream of.  Fortunately with very little more than 1 tooth left in our heads, we felt that we might fit in a little bit more than we have so far. That as well as the broken hips that we now had.

We arrived in Grenada after what seemed like a lifetime, and immediately went through a monastery which is now a museum of sorts.  Before entering we were swarmed by a stack of local children who wanted to give us a “free” gift – a flower made out of some plant like material – possibly dried palm frond or sugar cane.  This “gift” came with a trap.  You take it….you then pay for it.  They request money for food and will literally then follow you through the town until you give them money.  That is….unless you are the Bear and I. Despite the poverty in this country, the children showed obvious signs of not using the money for food so we were not going to part with our dollars.   There also were probably 50 of them begging, so even if we did fall for the scam, we could not have afforded it for each child.  Once you didn’t pay up to them, they snatched the flower back out of our hands (if we were stupid enough to accept one for fear of offending them) and went on to the next unsuspecting soul.   Pickpockets were also a problem and it was very evident when they were trying to “cop a feel”.   On top of this, we had people shoving their wares directly in our faces over and over and over as we walked through the old town and who also refused to take no for an answer.  This including one very feminine ladyboy who had the head of a woman, the chest of a man, and I am stuffed if I know below the waist.  He/she wore makeup with perfectly coiffed hair but a bloke’s tank top and shorts, with a black bra on an extremely flat chest.  He/she needed a shave though, so that was a bit of a giveaway. 

The tour guide was very clear when he wanted everyone ready to go by a certain time.  We were already an hour behind schedule due to the debacle that occurred this morning, and not only did we have to try and make up that time, we also had to try to outrun the obligatory storm that occurs in the afternoons there.   Between the begging children, the pushy vendors, the ridiculous humidity and the pending storm, my head was banging harder than it has in its life.  I just wanted to get through the long journey back to San Juan Del Sur where the ship was moored where it was cool and we could get something to eat.   

That’s when one of the old farts went missing.  *brain explosion*

We sat in the smelly bus whilst a search party was sent to find the missing old man, and after another 45 minutes or so, he was found.  No excuse given.   I have the strangest feeling that he went for a massage which included a “happy ending”.  We departed, now two hours late, for San Juan Del Sur, with the rain now pouring.    Just when I thought our day could not be any more uncomfortable, rain started pouring through somewhere above my head.  So this was why the place smelt like mould?  Because there was a damned leak that no-one had fixed?  The Bear and I had to squash together which, with his 6’3” height and my 5 foot roundness, made life evening more interesting than it already was. 

We finally made it back to the ship not long before it was meant to depart from the port.  We were glad to have seen Nicaragua however were even more glad to say goodbye to it.    I just hope to hell that Costa Rica is much better tomorrow. 

Sunday, 16 November 2014

2014 - Day 19 - Third USA Trip - Looking for Land

Not a lot to write about today.  We haven’t seen land for 3 days however will arrive in Nicaragua tomorrow.  The humidity is shocking to the point that if you want to take a photo outside off the balcony, you have to have the camera outside for a little while to adjust to the humidity.  The lens keeps fogging up over and over.  Not that there is much to photograph, however I do not need a subject.  I will photograph anything.  My current challenge is to see how many walking frames I can get in one shot without it coming to the attention of the owners of said walking frames.

 
So today I will mention 3 things: 

 
Firstly, I would like to give a shout out to our stateroom steward “Wilfredo” aka “Wil”.  He is Philippino and is the hardest working person on this ship.  He seriously is a physic ninja.  If we want him, we press a button, and he is at our door before we our finger has left the button.  Nothing is too much trouble and he is constantly working.  I can’t figure out why he brushes the carpet outside our door on top of vacuuming it though.  I might ask him on the last day.  He deserves a big tip that’s for sure.


Second, what the hell is the go with the beavers up on deck 14?  Really ladies…..bikinis and one pieces if you must, but grab a razor and kill those beasts! Or grab a tube of Nair!  Both if you need to!  Holy Mother of God!  Get Pops to play pick the wrinkle if need be….just get those things in control or tuck them up into your “depends” before settling back into those banana lounges and airing your v-jayjays.  
 

Third, we went to another stage show tonight called “Do You Wanna Dance” starring the Island Princess misfits….I mean dancers.  There is nothing more than I can add to their “Piano Man” show the other night (except that we were again not allowed to take photos or video….although I now know that this is so that we cannot expose them for the absolute shockers that they are!) except that I have still not worked out if the dark-skinned vocalist is a lady boy or woman yet, and that it was nowhere near as funny to watch without the tequila!  I therefore revoke my previous promise to lay off the grog if attending another one of their shows!

Saturday, 15 November 2014

2014 - Day 18 - Third USA Trip - Geriatric Craft Anyone?

First things first…. this morning the Bear saw a bird float by sitting on a piece of wood.  I have nicknamed it, and every other bird in the world “Rose”.  If you never saw the movie “Titanic” (and I sure as shit wish I never had) then never mind.  You won’t get it.

Today we are trying a new tactic.  If you can’t beat the oldies…..join them.    For 4 hours each day, tables are set up in the middle of the ship along with paint, crayons, felt pens and cardboard so that the passengers can write a message to their loved ones to hang over the side of the ship when passing through the Panama Canal.  Of course, our loved ones won’t see the messages unless the passenger forks out a million dollars to buy the photo taken of it…..but hey…..that’s what all cruises are about - trying to drag more of the dollars out of your wallet on top of the offensive amount that you have already spent to be there.

Anyway, these tables are set up with all of the oldies in line with their paint brushes and are drawing pictures to their hearts content.  It reminds me of the kids craft sessions at Bunnings on Saturday and Sunday mornings.    I was sort of hoping there was a tray with googly eyes and big noses on them, just so that we could do a picture of one of our passengers…..but alas, there was not.  

The Bear and I took our places beside the oldies and began to paint our signs.  Our levels of intelligence dropped by the second as we painted our signs “S.O.S” and “Help”.    Ok….so we didn’t do that, but we wanted to!  I need to tell you though that the effort it took to draw out the letters and then paint between the lines on a rocking ship was harder than it looked.  For those of you that know me, you know that I am fairly challenged when it comes to colouring in or cutting along a straight line.  Add the rocking ship into the mix, as well as the engaging company either side of us *rolls eyes* and you have a story that movies are made of.   I wish this movie involved lots of pirates now though.

So we made a sign with our kids names on it (and yes, I wanted to make a second with our animals names on it), and the word AUSTRALIA on the bottom.  The Bear carefully painted that word in green and gold whilst I started on the letters at the top of the page.   The amount of dickheads that came up, stared and asked “are you from Australia” will have me shaking my head until black turns into white.   The urge to say “no toss-wank, we are from Argentina and just spelled it wrong” was almost too much.   Or even “Oh…really……does that say Australia?  We meant Zimbabwe”. 

For those that actually assume that the word Australia, DOES in fact match our accents, I am also left scratching my head with the conversations that ensue.

Them:  “Where about’s in Australia are you from?”

Us:       “A few hours from Brisbane”.

Them:  “Where is that?”

Us:       Queensland

Them:  “Where is that?”

Us:       “Northern State on the Eastern Coast”.

Them:  *blank look*

Us:       “Where the Great Barrier Reef is”.

Them:  “Is that near Mellborrrrrrrrne?”

Me:       “Yes….yes it is”

 
The Bear keeps saying that he will not stoop to their level of ignorance or bad manners.   I have made it my duty to make it up for the both of us!  Mind you he did tell someone yesterday that we were getting electricity there soon.  The recipient of the light hearted sarcasm took him seriously!

 
Tonight’s entertainment was a ventriloquist with his dummy called “Noseworthy”.  “Noseworthy” is an old man with a very big nose.  I found myself wondering if this was an excellent attempt at mimicking our ships passengers but would suggest that this was simply a coincidence.  I doubt that the oldies would have noticed however the dummy might have had half a clue.   Very good show.  Had I have had a hand in it (hahaha…..get it.  Hand in the puppet?) I would have had more fun with it but I still certainly appreciated the cleverness and skill in the act.

 

 

Friday, 14 November 2014

2014 - Day 17 - Third USA Trip - Sale? What sale?

Today is our first of nearly four without land.    It is a loooooooong way from Cabo San Lucas, Mexico to San Juan Del Sur, Nicaragua.  I am dismayed to find that an awful lot of toilets on board are failing (around 3 out of every 4) and I can only assume it’s due to the oldies trying to flush their “Depends” down.  For those that are aware of my own health issues……this is not good news!

The Pacific Ocean is a beautiful blue, almost a light turquoise.  Light reflects somehow underneath the water giving a sun ray effect from below the surface.  It truly is pretty and unfortunately cannot be captured by my camera.  Heaven knows that I tried.  The sea breeze is very warm and I find myself wondering what the weather will be like as we make our way further south.  If it is anything like it was in Cabo, it will be horrendous.

It appears that every time we leave a port, the ship is going to have a “Sail Away Party” on deck 15.  Am not quite sure why they would go to all of this trouble for 2 Octogenarians and a stray seagull but hey, our big bucks had to have paid for something a little more than a gay boy band and some lady boys (and no….I still haven’t worked it out).  However they can save and double up on the music by playing the William Tell Overture at both the “Sail Away Parties” and the mornings opening of the buffet.

I had a bit of a dummy spit on the ship today (and I know that will come as a surprise to all of you.  NOT!) when I found out about a rort on the ship.  Given that it was an “At Sea” day, they decided to have a $10 sale.  El cheapo watches, purses, belts and hats were all being sold at the “bargain” price of $10.    Whilst everything else in there would clearly have fallen apart after one use, I still purchased a large floppy hat given that I had experienced the sun in Mexico, and it was so bloody hot.   I fought with the old biddies that felt that they had rights to a bargain before I did, but I tell ya…..I gave as good as I got.  I am learning quickly with these old ducks!  Mind you, one of them kept dropping their guts however I am sure that this was a strategic (and very effective) move.  I might have done the same and cleared the room however I wouldn’t have done that to my husband, nor could have bragged about it to my Mum. 

Anyway, taking my purchase I walked out of the “sale” and into the adjoining shop which sells souvenirs, some apparel and odds and ends. This is the same store from which the sale items originated from.  I was interested in seeing the items that we not on sale.  Upon entering, the Bear gestured to me to come closer to where he was and was holding up the same hat which I had just bought next door in the “sale”.  He held up the price tag on this hat.  It had a price tag of $6.99 on it.   I picked up another……and it was the same….and so on, and so on.

*brain explosion*

I grab the $6.99 hat and march up to the counter.  When asked “Mee I heeelp yaw” by the Latino behind the desk my response of “BLOODY OATH!!” was met with a quizzical look.  In fact she looked a little like my Prudence (for those of you who live under a rock and don’t know who my Prudence is, she is one of the loves of my life – one of my fur babies) does when she is listening to me.  Holding the $6.99 hat in one hand and the $10 “sale” hat in the other, I proceeded to demand an explanation as to which universe I was sailing in…..because the one that I actually lived in, would have promoted the $6.99 sale item hat as the actual SALE item….in the SALE!  Not INCREASE the price of the hat so that it came up to “one price fits all” at a $10 sale.  Now I am fairly sure that there is no Trade Practice Act that governs international waters so I came up with the most hurtful and below the belt 3 words I could muster – “this is low”.    After the fact of course I could come up with a zillion 3 word lines not only for this instance, but for other times. 

 

Here are a couple just for information sake:

 

*   Princess Cruises Suck

*   Old People Suck

*   Sale price moron!

*   What the f**k??

*   Clean your teeth!

*   F**K who smells?!!!!!!

*   Change your pants!!!

*   Who farted now?

*   Why fart here?

*   Why shit here?

*   Purple rinse set

*   LET ME OFF!!!

*   More alcohol stat!

*   Are you serious?

*   You ARE serious?

*   Kill me now!

*   Please kill me!

*   Kill me please!

*   Back off Boris!

*   Back off Bessie!

*   Just BACK OFF!

*   Alllll righty then!

*   Nap time already?

*   Oil those wheels!!!!!

*   Take a bath!!!!!

*   Deodorant.  Use deodorant!

*   Again, who farted?????

 

I could go on and on.  *sigh*   Just for the record, I did receive a $3.01 refund for catching them out.  Only small dollars but a HUGE principle!

Tonight on board we did see a very, very funny impressionist from Las Vegas.  He was a Jason Statham look alike, and used his 30 minute time slot well.  I am not sure that the oldies got anyone other than his impression of Johnny Carson however we liked him enough to want to look him up should we ever return to Vegas.  That is….if we survive this cruise.

 

 

 

Thursday, 13 November 2014

2014 - Day 16 - Third USA Trip - Mexico, Old Farts and Tequila!

*Note:  please do not read if easily offended.  I am not racist by any means however events of the night might sound as if I was.  These paragraphs are a translation of my key words as kept in my diary when I travel*

Oh my God.  What have we done?  We have landed ourselves in the middle of the Pacific Ocean with the top 2 percent of the world’s rudest people!  It’s not just that they are old and cranky, they are unashamedly rude!   They will literally be walking past us, stop, and stare point blankly at what we are doing or what we are eating.    They will bark orders at us in the lifts as though we are the house keepers and have no hesitation in pushing at us, pushing past us, or running over our toes with their walkers.

Amid the countless levels of discomfort with these people, my new personal favourite today, is getting in a lift with these people.  That is….if they let you.   We have no choice but to ride with them, as there is limited lifts on the ship and there is always someone in them. If, and I say IF we manage to not get trampled in the stampede of walkers when the lift dings, we get to enjoy the experience of a lifetime once inside.  I thought the Tower of Terror lift at Disneyland was scary.  It pales in comparison.

Once we are trapped in the lift with the socially challenged, we are first aware of the overpowering aroma of bad breath.  I am not sure whether it could be because their Polident has reached its expiry date, or because they have placed some left over shrimp in their dentures for a late night snack, but the smell is thick and horrendous.  Mixed in with the wafts of Eau De Mothballs I question as to how these people cannot smell themselves.  It has come to the point where I have had to cover my nose whilst in the lift for fear of vomiting.  Of course, behind this glorious stench, comes the air shattering introduction to their body odour.  It takes every ounce of restraint to stop myself from asking when they had taken their last bath or shower. My lungs are screaming given that I am needing to hold my breath, and as I take a quick intake to stop them from bursting I find that more than one of them has dropped their guts, or filled their pants.  Or both! On more than one occasion I am positive that I have lost consciousness however have been able to maintain my upright position given that apparently once you are 153 years old, your sense of mathematical common sense becomes null and void.  The amount of persons that they believe can fit into a lift exceeds that which is possible for its square area.  And this doesn’t include their walkers!  On the positive side of things, IF there was a situation where we weren’t playing sardines and I suffered a broken hip as a result of collapsing in the lift, this would not be a problem given that it’s in the Top 5 most common ailments on this ship (coming second/third to being trampled-at-the-buffet and death) and it is well equipped to cope with this.  In fact I am sure there are rooms on this floating dinghy that house prosthetic limbs, dentures, hearing aids, and pine coffins.

Today we did get to go ashore to Cabo San Lucas which is in Mexico.  It is at the end of the Baha Peninsula is was a lovely looking place.  We could only spend a couple of hours there for two reasons.  We would only be in port for 5 or so hours, and it was so bloody hot.  And I mean HOT!!  Locals are in your face on the pier trying to force you to buy tickets to go on tour in their leaky boats and are trying to sell you “genuine” wares which of course is a load of fiddlesticks.  However Cabo itself was a lovely place and I was very glad to say that I had finally been across the border (albeit by boat) into Mexico.  I had finally visited another country!

Our stress levels have quadrupled rather than halved since being on the boat.  The massages at the spa whilst glorious are ridiculously expensive.  If we could have a dozen of them a day we could probably cope, but this is not feasible.  We have to resort to the next best thing – alcohol.  As most of you know I do not drink with my medication however I feel the need to throw caution to the wind (and there is plenty of THAT on this boat).  We are attending our first show on the ship tonight and decide to order a ridiculously expensive Margarita to cope with getting through the event given our surrounding and unfortunate company.  I failed to mask my surprise when the Margarita virtually came in a bucket (it was huge) and I felt pangs of concern.  Not because of what it would do with my medication, but due to what I would be capable of given that much alcohol.  I was hoping that there wasn’t a pole on the stage as I might feel the need to use it after a few sips of this cocktail.  I dig in and say goodbye to my inhibitions.

The show that we were to see was simply called “The Piano Man”.  Given that Billy Joel has this nickname we felt that this might simply be a man playing piano and singing the songs of Billy Joel.   We hoped to lose ourselves in the tribute of one of our favourites and forget the rudeness of the people around us for a short while.  Given the relaxation that the Margarita blessed us with I was looking forward to this break from reality. 

The show started with an amazing bang with some sort of gay boy band launching themselves onto the stage.  They pranced around like drunken gazelles singing a line each at a time in what I can only describe as a strangled mess.  They were quickly joined on stage by a group of dancers and two lady vocalists.  I desperately struggled to determine whether they were in fact ladies, or, lady-boys.  One of them, a dark skinned lady with a seriously strange shaped body, seriously looked in pain as she sang with an exaggerated emotion.  The other managed to hold every third note but looked wistfully in the distance with her every word rather than connect with her audience.  The bad sounding gayboy band continued to frolic unashamedly around the stage and I spontaneously burst into a round of uncontrollable giggles.  Anyone who knows me well will be able to picture me trying to stifle these giggles which in turn made them worse tenfold.

I attempted to distract myself by guzzling my bucket of Margarita and even attempted origami with my straw however my giggling turned to loud guffaws and I was unable to control the belly laughs that embarrassingly erupted from within. It was obvious that the dancers were lip syncing although one dancer, a pretty lass of Asian decent was a full three or four words behind the rest and I felt like I was watching a really badly dubbed movie.  One of the male dancers, a stocky looking blond, was very clearly out of sync with the choreography and nearly took off the head off the dark skinned woman/lady-boy (I still hadn’t worked it out) when doing some sort of flip across the stage.  I wished I had my daily guide on me as I wasn’t aware that this was meant to be a comedy show so just wanted to check, although the stony faced crowd around me indicated that it was meant to be serious.  Oh ok….so it wants a comedy.  The Bear, who had ordered a second bucket of Margarita, just seemed amused that I could not contain my laughing.  I just hoped that my snorts got lost in the very loud music and squawking and in fact tried to time it with the pushing/baring down as written on the dark-skinned-ladyboy woman’s pained face.

Badly-synced-Asian was joined on the stage by uncoordinated-Indian-princess and the ugly-blonde-and-black-haired-step-sisters (actually I think they were twins) and with the constipated-looking-dark-skinned-ladyboy/woman (I STILL hadn’t worked it out) and wistful-now-known-as-Julie-Andrews-lady-vocalist, I made a mental promise to myself and the theatre full of old farts that I would NEVER drink alcohol again before attending any show.  Well that is unless it was actually a comedy where I would not be the one person in 500 that was laughing uncontrollably rather than be disgusted at the poor performance.

Leaving the theatre I found myself stumbling up the aisle.  I initially thought this was the after effects of alcohol; however I was relieved to find that it was as a result of entering rough seas.  Fortunately for me though, given that I had consumed more than my usual intake of alcohol, I was not anywhere as nearly as scared of the rocking of the boat as I would have been stone cold sober.   Sticking our heads out on the balcony once returning to our stateroom it was obvious that the ocean was angry.  Rather than the great black abyss that we would usually be met with, we saw white caps as far as the eye could see (which for me seriously, wasn’t that far!) and I found myself wondering how Rose would have stayed afloat on her timber door in cold northern waters should she have experienced these sea conditions following the downing of the Titanic.  Ahhhhhhh never mind.  That is a thought for another day…..when I would actually be worried.  Sleep beckoned!