Knowing that someday I'm going to grow old and possibly be ridden with ailments like alzheimer's, cancer, arthritis and incontinence, I thought it would be a good idea to write down some of the fun times I've had traveling. So, perhaps on a regular basis, I'll make Friday my homage to recording things "for posterity" on this blog.
Here's the kick off:
Are there times in your life, an instant, a moment that you know changed you? In some way, little, big - you stared at the happenings of that moment and knew that you would not be the same? I've had a few and they're most noticeable for me when I'm traveling. Perhaps it's because I'm out of my comfort zone, aware of my surroundings and appreciative of the things happening to me. I feel things acutely when I'm away from what most people would call "home." I'm hooked on feeling that way and ironically, I feel the most at home when I'm living in a situation that is not "normal" - the in-between time, when you're setting up house, you've just moved somewhere or are transitioning to something new. I like the fight and the struggle. I grow the most then and come face to face with the stuff I'm made of.
One of my favorite changing moments happened on a day in December, 2001. I was in the middle of spending a week with my Grandparents on a multi-destination trip in Florida. In essence, I chauffeured the Grandparents around Florida. Grandma, always the eagle-eye for a deal, had signed us up (it was unbeknownst to me what I was really getting myself into) on a week-long trip with stops in Orlando, Cocoa Beach and on a three-day cruise. It was one of those "free" weeks time-share places put on to get you to buy in to their properties. Grandma already owned two time-shares so they sent her a screaming deal that included a free rental car, free nights in hotels and (you guessed it) the cruise was free too.
Sounds like a great setup for a nightmare of a time, but really, having grown up across the continent from Grams and Gramps (I'm from California, they're from Virginia), I was really content to just spend time with them. Sure I had moments of frustration (imagine if you will, the conflicting worlds of a 21-year-old girl from California and 70 year olds from a farm in the sticks in rural Virginia) but the frustration was due mostly to a lack of sleep more than anything. No, Grams and Gramps aren't partiers - far from it, but the symphonic range of their snoring would wake the dead. Being a light sleeper, it was a bit more than I could handle. Beyond the sleepless nights, there were a few days of driving, which were equally adventurous. Cocoa Beach and Orlando are quite a distance apart. Like four hours. I designated myself the driver. Grandpa just wasn't in any kind of shape to drive and Gram's driving would have taken 'till the millennium for us to arrive anywhere. Plus she "taps" when she drives. Not her fingers. The gas pedal. Imagine about six hours of a lurching car. Vroom. Vroom. Vroom. I would have become a permanent bobble-head.
The whole itinerary went something like this: Flight into Fort Lauderdale. Drove to Cocoa beach. One night there and one time-share presentation. Not much time to do anything. I think I went to a Ron Jon's surf shop. We ordered papa John's pizza that night and watched a comedy on TV. The next morning we drove four hours to Orlando, spent two nights/three days (kind of) there and went to another time-share presentation. At this point, I was realllllllly jonesin' for some "me time" so I hopped in the rental car and drove on down to the Magic Kingdom.
I Disneyed it up. And sadly, I wasn't very impressed. Yes, Sleeping Beauty's castle is bigger, but the Magic Kingdom is pretty much just like Disneyland. I should have gone to a different park with my one night out. Oh well.
The next day we drove back to Fort Lauderdale, turned in the car and took a shuttle to Port Everglades: The Cruise Terminal, to board the MS Ocean Breeze, my first ship. I didn't know it at the time, but the SS Ocean Breeze was originally called the Southern Cross. It was a landmark ship in nautical design and the first-ever dedicated passenger ship (Previously, ships held a combination of cargo and passenger). She was also the world's first all-tourist class ship (one-class).
Sure I'd been on Ferry boats. You can't help it growing up in the SF Bay area, but never a proper ship. It was enthralling! I was absolutley captivated. If you've ever cruised and enjoyed it, you know that you'll always love your first ship. It doesn't matter that there was one tiny elevator on the tiny, old, wooden ship (Grandpa was in a wheelchair, so we were constantly in line for it), it doesn't matter that when we hit rough seas, you couldn't walk from one end of a room to the other without doing zig-zags (actually I kind of liked that part). It didn't matter that my parent's bathtub at home was practically bigger than the onboard swimming pool or that the people we were cruising with were the trashiest of the white trash. That boat was magic and I fell in love with it.
The cruise stopped at ports: Nassau, Bahamas and a small, private Bahamian island (which they claimed episodes of Gilligan's island were filmed on... doubtful). In Nassau, I went on a snorkeling expedition, which I thought was really cool, having never been snorkeling before. (Now that I know better... Yikes! We pretty much were dropped off of a small fishing boat in the middle of a large waterway... yeah, it was crap.) Afterward, I went with my Grandma to the place she was super-excited to go: The straw market. I'm not a shopper. I don't like buying cheap tourist crap or being harrassed by tons of people saying "pretty lady, braid ya hair!" over and over again. Not my idea of fun. But, for Gran's sake, I stuck with her while she spend ridiculous amounts of money on useless crafts. It made her happy. Done.
The next stop was the "private" island. It was so private that there was also a Carnival ship in port and a permanent "Swim with Dolphins!" experience affixed on the island. Nonetheless, this small island was where the *something* happened to me. After disembarking the tender boat that took us from the ship to the island and setting Gram and Gramps up at the covered food area (Food = the number one cruise activity after all!), I took off alone on foot.
I walked down the white, sandy walkways lined with large sea-grape plants and admired the beautiful strangeness of the place. I passed groves of coconut trees hung with dozens of hammocks. My insatiable curiosity drove me further and further. I wanted to see everything before I settled on one thing. And that trait served me well. Just past the hammocks was a small inlet where the ocean escaped inland, forming a small river carved into bright, soft, sandy walls. Coconut trees hung overhead and sea grapes lined the open areas. The sand was a bright white color that this California native had never seen and the ocean crystal-clear and blue. (In comparison, California beaches are a bit dingy. The sands are grays and browns and golds; the water dark, cold and murky.) I could see small fish darting around in the little river and hear the crash of the waves. The tropical smells of humidity, ocean, lush flowers and fruit dazzled my sense of smell. The water was warm on my skin and the sand danced between my toes like silk.
It was love at first step.
Once I set foot in the water, I was a goner. I sat with my feet dangling in the warm water, my fingers combing swirly designs in the sand. The moment froze and I knew that I was not done with the Caribbean. I also knew that it would break the heartstrings that had so quickly fastened themselves on this place to leave it.
I knew I only had about an hour left to this magical place, and yet I HAD to come back, back to places where the tropical climate soothed my soul. It was a compulsion, not a need. And it deepened with every breath I took there. And it grew each moment I spent away from there.
Luckily I'd already accepted a contract to begin working on cruise ships in the Caribbean the following summer. Only six months to wait to see the Caribbe/aka my little bit of heaven again. Six months too long.
Here's the kick off:
Are there times in your life, an instant, a moment that you know changed you? In some way, little, big - you stared at the happenings of that moment and knew that you would not be the same? I've had a few and they're most noticeable for me when I'm traveling. Perhaps it's because I'm out of my comfort zone, aware of my surroundings and appreciative of the things happening to me. I feel things acutely when I'm away from what most people would call "home." I'm hooked on feeling that way and ironically, I feel the most at home when I'm living in a situation that is not "normal" - the in-between time, when you're setting up house, you've just moved somewhere or are transitioning to something new. I like the fight and the struggle. I grow the most then and come face to face with the stuff I'm made of.
One of my favorite changing moments happened on a day in December, 2001. I was in the middle of spending a week with my Grandparents on a multi-destination trip in Florida. In essence, I chauffeured the Grandparents around Florida. Grandma, always the eagle-eye for a deal, had signed us up (it was unbeknownst to me what I was really getting myself into) on a week-long trip with stops in Orlando, Cocoa Beach and on a three-day cruise. It was one of those "free" weeks time-share places put on to get you to buy in to their properties. Grandma already owned two time-shares so they sent her a screaming deal that included a free rental car, free nights in hotels and (you guessed it) the cruise was free too.
Sounds like a great setup for a nightmare of a time, but really, having grown up across the continent from Grams and Gramps (I'm from California, they're from Virginia), I was really content to just spend time with them. Sure I had moments of frustration (imagine if you will, the conflicting worlds of a 21-year-old girl from California and 70 year olds from a farm in the sticks in rural Virginia) but the frustration was due mostly to a lack of sleep more than anything. No, Grams and Gramps aren't partiers - far from it, but the symphonic range of their snoring would wake the dead. Being a light sleeper, it was a bit more than I could handle. Beyond the sleepless nights, there were a few days of driving, which were equally adventurous. Cocoa Beach and Orlando are quite a distance apart. Like four hours. I designated myself the driver. Grandpa just wasn't in any kind of shape to drive and Gram's driving would have taken 'till the millennium for us to arrive anywhere. Plus she "taps" when she drives. Not her fingers. The gas pedal. Imagine about six hours of a lurching car. Vroom. Vroom. Vroom. I would have become a permanent bobble-head.
The whole itinerary went something like this: Flight into Fort Lauderdale. Drove to Cocoa beach. One night there and one time-share presentation. Not much time to do anything. I think I went to a Ron Jon's surf shop. We ordered papa John's pizza that night and watched a comedy on TV. The next morning we drove four hours to Orlando, spent two nights/three days (kind of) there and went to another time-share presentation. At this point, I was realllllllly jonesin' for some "me time" so I hopped in the rental car and drove on down to the Magic Kingdom.
I Disneyed it up. And sadly, I wasn't very impressed. Yes, Sleeping Beauty's castle is bigger, but the Magic Kingdom is pretty much just like Disneyland. I should have gone to a different park with my one night out. Oh well.
The next day we drove back to Fort Lauderdale, turned in the car and took a shuttle to Port Everglades: The Cruise Terminal, to board the MS Ocean Breeze, my first ship. I didn't know it at the time, but the SS Ocean Breeze was originally called the Southern Cross. It was a landmark ship in nautical design and the first-ever dedicated passenger ship (Previously, ships held a combination of cargo and passenger). She was also the world's first all-tourist class ship (one-class).
Sure I'd been on Ferry boats. You can't help it growing up in the SF Bay area, but never a proper ship. It was enthralling! I was absolutley captivated. If you've ever cruised and enjoyed it, you know that you'll always love your first ship. It doesn't matter that there was one tiny elevator on the tiny, old, wooden ship (Grandpa was in a wheelchair, so we were constantly in line for it), it doesn't matter that when we hit rough seas, you couldn't walk from one end of a room to the other without doing zig-zags (actually I kind of liked that part). It didn't matter that my parent's bathtub at home was practically bigger than the onboard swimming pool or that the people we were cruising with were the trashiest of the white trash. That boat was magic and I fell in love with it.
Alongside a small Royal Caribbean ship. @23,000 tons, the SS Ocean Breeze is a tiny ship by today's standards! The first ship I worked on was just about twice as big, The MS Maasdam @ 55,000 tons. The newest RCL megaship is 220,000 tons; Nearly 10x as big!
I will always remember this room. One of the evenings onboard was quite stormy and the ship, being as old as it is, has no stabilizers which made for a very rocky night. I loved it! I tried to cross this room from one end to the other and ended up being pitched from side to side four times before managing the crossing. I was so amused by it that I spent the next ten minutes walking back and forth, to and fro in this room (all the while dodging chairs and furniture).
I will always remember this room. One of the evenings onboard was quite stormy and the ship, being as old as it is, has no stabilizers which made for a very rocky night. I loved it! I tried to cross this room from one end to the other and ended up being pitched from side to side four times before managing the crossing. I was so amused by it that I spent the next ten minutes walking back and forth, to and fro in this room (all the while dodging chairs and furniture).
A typical double configuration. I shared a room like this with my Grandparents. Except we had an inside cabin, so no windows. Replace the windows with solid walls that have fold-down bunk beds on them and you'll get our cabin.
The cruise stopped at ports: Nassau, Bahamas and a small, private Bahamian island (which they claimed episodes of Gilligan's island were filmed on... doubtful). In Nassau, I went on a snorkeling expedition, which I thought was really cool, having never been snorkeling before. (Now that I know better... Yikes! We pretty much were dropped off of a small fishing boat in the middle of a large waterway... yeah, it was crap.) Afterward, I went with my Grandma to the place she was super-excited to go: The straw market. I'm not a shopper. I don't like buying cheap tourist crap or being harrassed by tons of people saying "pretty lady, braid ya hair!" over and over again. Not my idea of fun. But, for Gran's sake, I stuck with her while she spend ridiculous amounts of money on useless crafts. It made her happy. Done.
The next stop was the "private" island. It was so private that there was also a Carnival ship in port and a permanent "Swim with Dolphins!" experience affixed on the island. Nonetheless, this small island was where the *something* happened to me. After disembarking the tender boat that took us from the ship to the island and setting Gram and Gramps up at the covered food area (Food = the number one cruise activity after all!), I took off alone on foot.
I walked down the white, sandy walkways lined with large sea-grape plants and admired the beautiful strangeness of the place. I passed groves of coconut trees hung with dozens of hammocks. My insatiable curiosity drove me further and further. I wanted to see everything before I settled on one thing. And that trait served me well. Just past the hammocks was a small inlet where the ocean escaped inland, forming a small river carved into bright, soft, sandy walls. Coconut trees hung overhead and sea grapes lined the open areas. The sand was a bright white color that this California native had never seen and the ocean crystal-clear and blue. (In comparison, California beaches are a bit dingy. The sands are grays and browns and golds; the water dark, cold and murky.) I could see small fish darting around in the little river and hear the crash of the waves. The tropical smells of humidity, ocean, lush flowers and fruit dazzled my sense of smell. The water was warm on my skin and the sand danced between my toes like silk.
It was love at first step.
Once I set foot in the water, I was a goner. I sat with my feet dangling in the warm water, my fingers combing swirly designs in the sand. The moment froze and I knew that I was not done with the Caribbean. I also knew that it would break the heartstrings that had so quickly fastened themselves on this place to leave it.
I knew I only had about an hour left to this magical place, and yet I HAD to come back, back to places where the tropical climate soothed my soul. It was a compulsion, not a need. And it deepened with every breath I took there. And it grew each moment I spent away from there.
