Third Time Across the Atlantic, Yet New Adventures

Our latest journey was a cruise across the Atlantic with Holland America Line (HAL), a trip which faithful readers will know we have taken twice before, once from New York City to Rome by way of the Azores Islands of Portugal and once from Rome, back through the Azores, to Fort Lauderdale, Florida. And yes, I realize I live a privileged life in terms of travel ability and more. This crossing, our third time sailing across the Atlantic, and assuredly not our last, put some new spins on the familiar route with new stopping points providing new adventure.

Beginnings: Atlanta to Florida

As always, our adventure essentially started at the Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport for a short flight to Fort Lauderdale where we would board the MS Zuiderdam (translates as “South Wind” from the Dutch) one of four similar Vista class ships in the Holland America fleet. Coincidentally, the MS Zuiderdam was the first HAL ship we ever sailed on, back in 2005 on a 7-day Caribbean trip, my first cruise, as a test case to see if I would enjoy the cruise experience. I admit that I was skeptical, but 160 cruise days later, I think it safe to say that I do enjoy cruising. We parked in the International Park and Ride lot because we knew we would be returning through the International Terminal, the newish Terminal F, even though we would fly out of Terminal A, necessitating a quite long underground tram ride. With essentially hourly flights to Fort Lauderdale, and with the cruise terminal literally across the street from the airport, we had no need to depart or arrive early. In fact, we landed at around 10:30am, were at the cruise terminal by about 11:00am and boarded with the priority group of guests in the premium cabins or with 4-Star Mariner Status (200+ cruise day credits based on both days on-board and on-board spending), we qualified on both counts, around 11:30am. While it used to be that while guests could board the ship but the cabins would not be ready to occupy, the new method is that at time of boarding cabins are open and ready so we quickly located 7063, directly across the hallway from the exclusive Neptune Lounge, a location both useful and troublesome, and settled in for the experience of 8 luxuriously lazy days at sea before our first landfall.

Cabin Classes: Location and Costs

While it is common to see very low prices quoted for cruises these days, there is in fact a wide range of cabins, and therefore a wide range of money to be spent, on any given cruise. The lowest fares apply to only one or two cabins, inside cabins with no windows, much less balconies, on the lowest levels of the ship, but even one cabin at such a price allows the line to advertise the rate, with the all-important “from” attached to the fare to attract and lure in buyers who might then opt for something higher up and larger than a standard closet. The ultimate determinant of price on a ship is location and size of the space. Spaces in the middle of ships have the advantage of less motion and easier access to elevators and stairs. Higher decks are closer to the sun decks and some food options and have better views in general. So, down on deck one and in the front or rear are some of the lowest priced cabins while higher up in the center of the ship are the more expensive. Excepting the penthouse, we were in one of the top cabins on the ship, referred to as the Neptune Suites. These suites, unlike a hotel suite perhaps, do not have multiple rooms, but they are a decently large space where one is not forced to crab-walk between the end of the bed and the wall, and the balconies are quite large and could easily seat four adults. Much of the space is rather wasted being just empty space between the bed and the couch but at least it is useful for two grown men struggling into formal attire. The other additional space, outside the bathroom, contained a lighted makeup table, and hopefully needless to say, neither of us have a need for that amenity. We used it for storage of cufflinks, fragrance, and watches. We have a shameful number of all of those items, and that doesn’t even include the rather insane number of ties, both bow and regular, with which we travel in pre-packed “cruise kits” that we have assembled over the years. We have no occasion for anything remotely formal, not even ties, outside of cruising barring a wedding or funeral which we have not had occasion to attend in several years, so leaving these items packed and at the ready for a cruise is quite reasonable.

One major advantage of booking the Neptune class of cabin, aside from location on deck 7, mostly, and generous space, is access to the Neptune Lounge, also on deck 7. The lounge, only accessible by key card, is stocked with upscale snacks and a fancy coffee machine along with two dedicated concierge staff who can handle any and all shipboard actions that would otherwise involve standing in lines at the Front Desk, Shore Excursions, or Dining. These concierges can smooth your path regarding most any issue and can be quite a valuable asset, especially for the needier passenger who feels the need for more royal treatment and rear-end kissing. We flatter ourselves that we are not in that category. The Neptune suites also provide free laundry and pressing, a feature we also are afforded due to our 4-Star Mariner status, exclusive access to breakfast in the Pinnacle Grill, and priority access to all tender boats for access to ports that don’t allow for direct docking, although there were no such ports on this journey. While there are some quite nice perks, it is worth noting that these cabins often come at quite a premium, up to 40-50% additional fare over the next closest class of cabin and usually we have accessed these through last minute upgrade offers although in this case we purchased it outright, a practice we are quite seriously reconsidering for future cruises as not worth the additional cash given our usually simple requirements and the creation of cabins with almost the same space but without the Lounge access. Regardless of future decisions about cabins however, we greatly enjoyed our cabin and the space and perks it provided even if we learned that being located directly across the entry from the Lounge, despite ease and convenience for early morning coffee, came with a good bit of noise from people entering and exiting, as well as conversation and the clash and bang of service equipment using the service entrance also immediately adjacent. Location, especially on a ship, really is an important consideration.

Shipboard Life During a Crossing

While crossings are often more value priced than more port heavy itineraries, we greatly enjoy the days at sea with the ease of knowing that there is no real compelling reason to not sleep in and be indulgently lazy. The ships always provide a wide range of potential activities from about 8AM onwards into the late hours but there is no requirement that you participate in any of them. Granted, the cabin stewards seem to hyperventilate if they don’t get in to clean twice a day but other than that you can lounge as much as you can stand on sea days, of which we had eight from the start of the voyage. Honestly, Tim doesn’t idle well at all, and he tends to find reasons to roam the ship on vague errands and fact-finding missions while I am more content to remain engrossed in a book or magazine for hours on end. Tim also had grand plans of using the ship gym, as he has admittedly done in the past, but this trip he managed to find the gym all of twice. He did, however, manage to work his way through quite the backlog of magazines, often out on the balcony. Another change of pace for us was that I was often the first one up in the morning, sometimes before the 7AM opening of the lounge for coffee and continental breakfast, which found me staring through the spy hole to determine the opening status of the lounge and then trying to quietly eat breakfast pastry at the makeup table while Tim was still sleeping, pending the opening closer to 8AM of the official breakfast venues. Note, at home I never, but never, am awake for or eat breakfast, so this turn of events was quite strange.

The Ritual of Dining

The most major event of most any day was the ritual preparation for dining. Once upon a time in cruise land, dinner was served in designated shifts, four times per evening, with two seatings on each of two levels of the dining room. You ate at the same time and at the same table with the same staff every night, and with the same group of up to 8 strangers depending on the size of your table. As most of you know, we are pretty staunchly anti-social (Tim could sell someone their own old underwear back but it doesn’t mean he actually LIKES talking to people…trust me, he doesn’t) so we have always managed a table for two, unless of course, traveling with my folks in which case we allow them to sit with us at a table for four. Verifying this arrangement is always one of the first tasks we undertake once on board. This trip was no exception and while seated at a table for four there was never anyone else present except for us. Nowadays, due to pressure from newer guests who don’t value tradition, most people choose a dining time of their choosing nightly, sometimes changing it from day to day, and thus changing table locations, dining companions, and staff on a daily basis. We remain part of a shrinking group of traditionalists with a set dining time and location and we prefer the “late” seating which used to be 8:30pm which moved to 8:00pm and has now eroded to 7:45pm. The other tradition was that of a dress code which varied between full formal to semi-formal to smart casual with varying degrees of rules about attire enforced for these specific evenings. Anyone can eat on the Lido buffet at most any time dressed in anything they like including robes (horrifying in some cases!) so it isn’t that you have to make a dressing effort if you don’t want to. Now however, gone are the semi-formal nights and “smart casual” seems to mean anything short of naked although we don’t find anything remotely “smart” about what most people wear on these nights. We, however, never go to dinner in anything less than shirt and tie, bowties now included since Tim learned to master tying them, and formal nights for us mean full tuxedo. The only rule remotely enforced anymore is that gentlemen must, on formal night, at least dress with a jacket, and those who arrive at the dining room door without are either denied seating or are given a loaner jacket. I admit that sometimes I find the effort of dressing up this way nightly to be a bit more than I really want to endure, but Tim enjoys this process so I play along. I will never forget that when I first met Tim that he described his family, and the necessary outfits for Christmas Eve at his parents’ home, in such a way that I had visions of Donna Reid in heels and a flouncy dress at all times. He required us to wear coats and ties to that first Christmas gathering and imagine my surprise when most every other male guest was in sweat pants at best. I felt a bit of a fool to be honest and occasionally it feels the same way on the ship when others interpret smart-casual as a t-shirt and shorts and I am stuffed into a tie and semi-uncomfortable shoes! But it makes Tim happy so I cope with it provided that on occasion I can change into something less torturous prior to show time or after dinner cocktails, a request he occasionally grants but usually one he is not keen on allowing.

Nightly Entertainment

We would almost always have a drink in the Ocean Bar prior to dinner but the xylophone player, granted it is a very small xylophone, no longer rings you into dinner so it is necessary to occasionally look at a watch or simply observe the slow motion drift of the cattle to the trough to determine when dinner time has arrived. After dinner the options for entertainment and reasons to remain snappily dressed are considerably more varied. There is a show of some sort in the two level show lounge nightly that is sometimes the shipboard singer and dancer cast, contracted from a company in California on most ships, that can vary in quality depending on the cast and the complexity of the show they are attempting, but they are usually watchable at worst, often with elaborate costumes designed by Bob Mackie, so most everyone looks vaguely like Cher. I think they aim for Broadway but usually land off-off-off-off Broadway at best while still, usually, not causing overt pain while watching. Other nights entertainment is brought on-board on a rotational basis which can vary from a juggler (nope, I am not kidding) through magicians to comedians (almost uniformly bad and prone to jokes heavily dependent on references to gay people, Viagra, and old farts, sometimes all three in one gag, literally a gag) to quite decent musicians, usually a pianist. The shows are usually repeated twice a night to account for different dinner seating times but sometimes only one showing is presented meaning the audience includes those who have finished dinner and those who will eat after the show concludes. Aside from this option there are several bars to choose from including a piano bar with resident entertainer to an ersatz disco which is usually empty to a usually quieter and mostly empty post at the very top level of the ship. If those fail to delight there is also on-board shopping but on this trip the most popular venue proved to be the casino. The casino is most always staffed with contract workers from Eastern Europe and most of the games that one would expect are provided including in this case a very large number of penny slots along with poker, blackjack, and our new favorite, craps. We had absolutely no idea how craps was played, and I am not sure that we know now, but I do know that we easily doubled our money playing it one night with heavy assistance from the casino staff guiding our most every bet and move. The attractive young guy manning the table was, somewhat shamefacedly admittedly the attraction to the game, but I figure this is why they don’t hire too many unattractive staff, but he was quickly replaced by less interesting female staff, who knows, perhaps the management mis-read two middle aged guys playing alone together as a stag party in need of breasts to liven things up, but regardless once we were winning we didn’t care who was in charge. The game is all based on the roll of the dice and woe to those who touch anything they shouldn’t or who lift the dice above the table. The minimum bet was always $5 but there seemed to be practically infinite ways to play your bets, some of which rule out other bets. Sometimes 7 or 11 are ideal but other times they are deadly, all depending on the initial roll, I think. Anyway, I gave Tim $5 and we left with about $80, so while we didn’t pay for the cruise we at least left with 16 times what we entered with and I couldn’t complain about that.

Spa Day?

I guess I should add that there are still more forms of entertainment on board, although we don’t usually use these venues, especially the spa where you can have all sorts of supposed beauty treatments, soaks, rubs, masks, muds, and what not. They also provide a full hair salon, in this case staffed by a very enthusiastic young East Indian lad, who I confess was the last person I expected to see doing old lady hairdos. While on a past cruise we did sign up for a massage package with a young Polish guy who was proud of his past work with professional soccer, football if you’re European, players whom he could bring to tears with his aggressive calf and thigh muscle mauling, but the last two sailings have only provided young female massage purveyors and I honestly think we would sign up for recreational root canal work before we would submit to young women rubbing on us so we politely declined on the first day upon completing our routine exploration of all ship amenities, including the spa and gym tour. The Australian lads staffing the gym were nice enough but I haven’t set foot in a gym in almost two decades, despite being once quite devoted to 6 times a week work outs, and why reverse such a settled trend while on vacation? Sometimes I enjoy being old and set in my ways.

Land Yet?

Despite all the joys, distractions, and leisure of shipboard life on sea days, we were not unhappy about seeing dry land again after eight days, some of them rather rocking and rolling due to storms coming down south off of Greenland that saw me occasionally greenish around the gills and sleeping on the sofa to compensate for the rolling action of the ship (rolling head to toe based on sofa orientation is much less nauseating for me than rolling from side to side based on bed orientation). Usually I do not suffer seasickness and therefore don’t take along medication to prevent it. Tim only suffers from the motion once he is on land and the motion stops but not in his inner ears and brain which send signals that the sidewalk is moving when it really shouldn’t be.

Madeira Island

I was quite thrilled that our first landfall was to be the island of Madeira, a semi-autonomous outlying possession of Portugal. Landing there was one of the reasons this particular crossing caught my eye in fact. Many crossings stop in the Azores, another island group possession of Portugal, much farther to the north and farther to the west than is Madeira, which lies pretty much due west of Morocco and relatively near the Canary Islands of Spain. I have known about Madeira since I was in the single digits of age, not due to the namesake wine which comes from the island and which is historically quite popular with Brits (this fondness for Portuguese wine also has to do with the historic unavailability of French or Spanish wines due to constant wars between the Brits and these parties while the Portuguese seemed to not factor largely in British conflicts, but that is another issue and story), but because of a child’s picture atlas, printed by National Geographic, given to me by my parents long, long ago. I so adored that atlas that they had to buy me a second one when I wore the first one out reading and re-reading it. This atlas including a great many pictures of most every populated country and speck of land on the planet, including all the islands of the Atlantic, including Madeira which was pictured with women and girls in front of straw-roofed A-frame cottages tatting lace and working intricate embroidery, skills brought by teaching nuns long ago, skills for which the island would become almost as famous as for the production of wine. Tim regards that atlas as being a very expensive book since it started and heavily fueled my desire to visit so many relatively obscure places in the world.

Perhaps needless to say, the Madeira of today is quite different from the one pictured in my child’s atlas of the 1970s and 1980s. Change has been pretty rampant, especially with the help, for better or worse depending on your perspective, of the European Union (EU) which has invested heavily in bringing the islands of both the Azores and Madeira into the modern world after being relatively neglected backwaters of Portugal, a country which was consistently in the lower economic rankings of the European world despite having been a global colonial powerhouse and masters of the seas starting around the 16th century. It is worth remembering that once upon a time it was Portugal that navigated the first routes around Africa, past the Cape of Good Hope and into the Indian Ocean, opening up the riches of both India, China, and ultimately becoming the only Western nation welcome into the closed society and markets of Japan until the forced opening by the black ships of Matthew C. Perry from the United States in the 19th century. Portugal was also granted half of the New World, now known as Brasil, by the then Pope, all without a thought or consideration for the millions of native peoples who had no say in the matter of who was now to be the master of the lands they had inhabited for generations beyond reckoning. It was a long fall for the Portuguese and a long climb they are still making back toward economic prosperity and success, a path greatly eased by membership in the European Union (EU) and the advent of the Euro currency. But lest I digress too far into Portuguese history, a subject I can’t imagine many readers are too deeply interested in despite it truly being quite fascinating, I will return to the present in Madeira.

We landed in the capital city of Funchal on the main island of Madeira. Funchal is a quite large city, which surprised me, with a population of over 100,000 people. Unlike the nine inhabited islands of the Azores group, there are only two inhabited islands constituting Madeira, the other being Porto Santo, with a very small permanent population that grows exponentially in summer with vacationers. Madeira was long fairly unvisited except by other Portuguese and was generally only accessible via mainland Portugal or perhaps via the Azores but a great deal has changed with the building of a bold new airport with a runway that is built on tall concrete pilings, looking much like a major freeway interchange, which themselves are sunk into reclaimed land from the ocean. Now, flights arrive from many cities in Europe, in addition to those from Lisbon and Ponta Delgada, bringing more and more tourists, still mostly European, to this beautiful speck of land. Madeira is semi-autonomous, so while still ultimately ruled from Portugal and therefore without its own armed forces or foreign affairs, it does govern itself in many ways and they have their own President and Parliament on the island. As timing and luck would have it, it was election time on the island so the first thing one noticed on arrival in the city from the port were the campaign posters. We heard a good deal about the various corruptions of the candidates, some of them having something to do with concrete barons who succeeded in having major concrete projects approved, or something along those lines, but I confess that I wasn’t paying close attention to the talk of local politics in favor of admiring the physical beauty of this island that I had long dreamed of visiting in search of elven women making lace.

The arts of embroidery and lace making are still practiced on Madeira even if not by actual elves, however, while authentic island-made examples of these arts are available, you have to be very big fan of the form because prices are quite high, up to €60 for even small pieces, which was a good bit more than I was keen to pay, although I did find a quite small piece for a price that was acceptable. While the ship had organized and offered shore excursions, as they do in most every port, Tim and I have a hearty distaste for being herded on and off of buses and being driven by someone else’s timetable and interests. And, the ship was charging about $75 per person for a four hour tour and we felt confident we could do better on our own. We did ride the overpriced shuttle into town but sometimes these conveyances are unavoidable because cruise ships are frequently docked in industrial ports where it is either not allowed and/or not safe, to simply walk in and out, especially with enhanced security measures at most every port anywhere in the world. Once we left the bus there were several men offering private tours by taxi and we happened upon Fernando Souza, a charming middle-aged man with a taxi van who offered us a standard four hour private tour, for both of us, for €75, about half the price of the ship organized bus tour. Now, it is true that the ship will sell you a private tour, but with a price tag of up to $999 PER PERSON for four hours, I think it safe to say that we struck a much better bargain. I realize that some people would find it frightening or intimidating to hire a private driver in a foreign land but we have done it several times and have never had anything other than a delightful time. The ship does try to impress upon you some fear factors such as leaving you behind with the full financial responsibility of catching up if you return late to the ship, a fear that is absent if you use ship organized excursions, and to each his own, but Tim and I generally prefer our independent means when it is practical and cost effective. Sometimes, there is simply no practical way, at any price, to match what the ship can organize and offer, but this is not always the case, as is proven again on Madeira.

Fernando, a native of Madeira, of course was aware of the standard tour route and initially offered us that path, but I had a guidebook about Madeira and I had a few ideas of my own, especially about visiting the far northern town of Santana, the only location left with any of the straw-roofed A-frame houses that I had seen in my atlas years ago. Turns out that while many islanders used to live in these small dwellings they had long been replaced and only one family still actually lives in one, but the government had maintained several more in Santana as a tourist attraction. Perhaps it was silly of me, knowing that these were preserved for tourists, but those houses had been my view of Madeira for almost 40 years and I was driven to see them regardless. It took some doing, as well as a renegotiation of the price, but Fernando agreed to our plans to include Santana and off we went.

My first impressions of Madeira were of the old meeting the new. Large multilane expressways were being built around the island to replace what were originally foot paths that grew into single lane roads hugging the coastal cliffs of this very mountainous volcanic island. Being mountainous, tunnels are a common feature and some of them are quite old indeed, built by hand by the islanders long before the arrival of the technology and machinery of the EU. Flowering plants such as bougainvillea run riot across the hills, at least those few that were not heavily terraced for farming. As Fernando explained, during the World Wars, in which Portugal remained officially neutral, shipping to and from the islands was heavily interrupted and local people had to provide for all their own needs, including food, so the mountains were painstakingly terraced to provide level cropland. The islanders even grew their own flax for fiber to make clothes, a process we were able to witness in all its complexity and heavy manual labor in Santana. Today, the island continues to grow the grapes that produce the famous wine but many of the terraces support the number one export crop of bananas for the Portuguese and wider European market. It was also common to see gardens of a wide variety of food stuffs and flowers most everywhere one looked, with onions also being grown on a commercial scale. Cactus of varying types, some with beautiful and colorful flowers, seemed to be everywhere as well and wild ferns, calla lilies, lily of the Nile (Agapanthus), loquats, and massive tree ferns were other plants that I could easily recognize that seemed to proliferate across the island. One benefit of volcanic lands is that the soil tends to be incredibly fertile provided that enough water flows, and the high mountain peaks of Madeira capture the clouds and it became commonplace for us to witness wild waterfalls cascading down the peaks through natural valleys into the main valley we used to traverse the island from the relatively calm seas and sunny skies of the south to the crashing breakers and fog of the north. Probably not surprisingly, life on the island is concentrated in the valleys and along the coast, especially the southern coast, because of the more favorable climactic conditions. It can, reportedly, become quite cold and wet in the higher elevations.

We stopped at a small café/bar for an early morning taste of the local firewater known as poncha. Poncha is a traditional alcoholic drink from the island, made with “aguardente de cana” (distilled alcohol made from sugar cane juice), honey, sugar, lemon rind and with different fruit juices according to the version of Poncha, but traditionally lemon juice is used. The drink is mixed together with a mixing tool created in Madeira officially called a mexelote but more commonly known as a “caralhinho” (little cock), which is a type of muddler created in Madeira. For those familiar with Brasilian drinks, the Caipirinha is based on Poncha and utilizes another type of sugar cane liquor known in Brasil as cachaça. Cachaça and the Caipirinha have both gained great popularity in the United States in recent years, although nothing will ever equal what you can get for pennies in Brasil. It is said in Madeira that Poncha cures the common cold and people are encouraged to drink it if they have cold like symptoms. I don’t know if Poncha will cure a cold, but it sure did burn when it went down. The drink may be based on an Indian drink called Pãnch/Panch, which in Hindi means five and the drink was originally made with five ingredients: alcohol, sugar, lemon, water, and tea or spices. Interestingly, at least to me, this is also where the English drink Punch has originated from.

While I don’t recall the exact name of the bar where we had Poncha it was obviously a favorite stopping point for travelers who had decorated the walls with boarding passes, small denomination currency, and even student and national identification cards from literally across the globe. I found those small tokens of world travelers who had made their way to this relatively isolated and obscure location to be as fascinating, or more, than the entire experience of drinking Poncha.

We made a stop for coffee and pastry on the north coast in the small town of Sao Vicente. It was here that I found lots of examples of local embroidery, along with a lot of ticky-tack most likely imported from China. I did buy a blanket, similar to one I bought in Newfoundland, which is woven with lots of examples of sights unique to Madeira, including those A-frame houses that I had yet to see. There were also wonderful, thick, and beautiful locally knitted wool sweaters for really great prices and I will kick myself until I return to Madeira next year (more on that later) that I didn’t buy one, convincing myself that I would find more elsewhere on the island. I didn’t.

From Sao Vicente we wound our way, quite literally, on one lane roads towards Santana to the east. When I say one-lane I mean it most literally. When we encountered a car coming the other direction, one of us would have to back up to a wide enough spot in the road to allow the cars to quite literally inch, or millimeter, themselves past one another. One time this happened with a police van and the distance between us couldn’t have been more than a centimeter at most, making me thankful for skillful local drivers; I couldn’t imagine doing it myself in a rental car. These roads were hundreds of feet, or more, up on the coastal cliffs, inherited from the original footpaths that were the only means of moving between one isolated village and another. The rare turnout provided stunning views out over the sea and many of the footpaths still exist and are popular with nature hiking tourists who can make treks quite literally around the entire circumference of the island if they should so choose as the island is not especially large encompassing a mere 309 square miles, placing it between Kau’ai and Molokai, two of the smaller of the Hawaiian Islands.

Madeira has earned UNESCO World Heritage status as one of the last remaining sites of significant laurel forests, a forest type now essentially restricted to the islands of Madeira, the Azores, and the Canary Islands although it once predominated across southern Europe where it has now been essentially eradicated. These forests, protected in the Madeira National Park, display a wealth of ecological niches, intact ecosystem processes, and play a predominant role in maintaining the hydrological balance on the island of Madeira. The property has great importance for biodiversity conservation with at least 76 vascular plant species endemic to Madeira occurring in the property, together with a high number of endemic invertebrates and two endemic birds including the emblematic Madeiran Laurel Pigeon.

We returned to Funchal via a route that took us literally under the new runway of the expanded airport. Madeira Airport was once one of the most dangerous and difficult places for even very experienced pilots to land a plane because of the unforgiving location of the very short runway between ocean and high cliffs. There was also no ability to refuel; instead planes had to make the short hop to Porto Santo which had space for fueling operations. The new and much extended runway has reduced the difficulty but it is still considered a tricky place to land and ranks as one of the most dangerous airports in the world.

We had a bit of time in Funchal, which is a nice city with an atmospheric old town near the water. One of the most popular tourist activities, unique to Madeira and Funchal, is riding wicker toboggans down the steep street from Monte to Funchal. These baskets were once a common means of getting down the hill, especially for the wealthy set that preferred the cooler climate of Monte over the ocean level of Funchal. The baskets are guided by two pilots who ride on the rear during the very fast run. The baskets used to be hand carried back up the hill by the necessarily strong drivers but now this task is accomplished with a truck. This phenomenon is much better understood when seen than when described and it is very easy to find photos and video of these basket rides on the Internet.

In all too short a time we had to return to the ship, our visit to Madeira finished. I greatly enjoyed the visit and I am delighted that we have plans to return next year in October/November. This time I will buy a sweater and will explore the western side of the island, preferably with Fernando once again as I have his card and contact information. If anyone reading this is planning a trip that includes Madeira, let me know and I can pass the contact information along for this quite nice and knowledgeable guide and driver.

Truly Behind the Scenes on Board the MS Zuiderdam

We had another sea day ahead of us on the way to Spain and this would turn out to be one of the best sea days ever. Early in the cruise it was announced that a “behind the scenes” tour of the ship would be offered, limited to 12 participants, on an as then unannounced date, that would include the bridge and the engine control room among other areas of the ship normally never seen by passengers. The hitch, beyond the limited number of participants, was the price tag of $150 per person. We sprung for it and I believe it was absolutely worth every single cent. Now, we have been on “behind the scenes” tours of the kitchens, offered on most every cruise, as well as a onetime offer of seeing the back stage of the show lounge where the singers and dancers prepare along with props and costumes, but never before were we given the chance to see the bridge and more industrial areas of the ship. The tour started around 9:30am on the bridge, one deck above us on deck 8. The bridge, of course, spans the entire width of the ship and has commanding views, even through a glass plate in the floor, which we were assured was quite safe to stand upon. The controls are, as would be expected, quite high tech looking and completely incomprehensible to me, consisting of lots of lights, buttons, levers, and switches. We were admonished to absolutely not touch anything, even by accident. The officer of the watch showed us how the ship was navigated, docked, and maneuvered from a single station. We saw how essentially everything about the operations of the ship could be monitored, known, and controlled from this one location. I was frankly surprised by how few people it seemed to require on the bridge during normal sailing operations, consisting of two watchmen who seemed to be responsible solely for scanning the horizon as well as perhaps two officers. We were treated to a group photo on the bridge as well.

Our next stop was backstage in the show lounge, again, a sight we had seen before on another ship, but it was nonetheless interesting. We also learned a bit about life aboard the ship as an entertainer in that the cast and dancers share two to a cabin with bunk beds while the lead singers warrant solo accommodations. While certainly not technically sailors, the entertainment staff do have emergency responsibilities as guides on the stairwells, and in fact most passengers will first encounter the entertainment staff not on stage at a show but on the stairwell landings during the mandatory first day lifeboat drills.

From my perspective things became a lot more interesting from this point on as we descended to A deck, a deck that is normally only seen by passengers during port stops when the gangway is located on this lower deck essentially at water level. Most passengers only see the area where the central elevators open because beyond that is all crew only areas behind firmly closed doors. But we passed through those secret portals and what a sight it was. Crew areas are stark and plain with none of the fancy dress decoration of the public areas or of even the cabins. Bare metal rules the day with only a coat of paint, no carpet, no glamour, only a sign requesting silence as you near crew quarters because some crew on a 24/7 operation will be sleeping during the daytime. Crew work up to 10 or more hours a day, every day, for up to 10 months straight with leaves that run for up to 4 months but which are usually shorter. It clearly isn’t a life and a job for just anyone.

We were able to see the crew galley, the dining and recreation area, which was certainly plainer than ours, but which served food specially designed to appeal to the palates of the crew, most of whom are from Indonesia or the Philippines. Food was noted to be especially important to crew moral because it helped remind them of home and the cooks were hired from the homelands of the crew exactly because they could most reliably cook familiar foods in the proper familiar ways. There is also a mosque provided for the worship of Muslim crew and the national holidays of Indonesia, the Philippines, and India, from where most of the security staff are hired, are acknowledged and celebrated on board with equal accord. We saw the florist area as well as entered food and beverage storage rooms. I was momentarily disconcerted with the coffin storage room, or morgue, but at sea it is necessary to be prepared for any eventuality including death necessitating temporary cold storage of the corpse until a port can be reached. In the kitchen, or galley, for the passengers we saw the bakery where most all bread is daily baked, the meat preparation area, the salad preparation area as well as the serving lines for the dishes served in the main dining room. During this cruise I discovered and absolutely fell in love with the cold and chilled soups served during dinner and during the kitchen portion of the tour I asked if it would be possible to obtain copies of the recipes. I didn’t really think that would be possible but the executive chef said that it absolutely was no problem; all I had to do was request the recipe for any dish from my dining room steward and he would provide it. I asked and before leaving I had a pile of delicious cold soup recipes! The amazing taste of some of the chilled soups was partly explained when I discovered that ice cream and/or sherbets were ingredients! Now that I had the recipes in hand, the only issue was to find about 98 close friends to invite for dinner since the recipes were for up to 100 people. While I imagine I could figure out the math to drastically cut the recipes down I don’t think it likely to happen. Based on ordering history, the ship knows fairly exactly how much of each dish on the nightly changing menu to make. To my surprise, the menus are set in advance by the corporate offices in Seattle and the onboard kitchen staff has little to no ability to make changes. The corporate offices even determined that the practically daily time shifts of one hour forward as one sails to the east would occur at noon instead of during the night as they always had before, for reasons I never understood. All hail the power of the corporate office.

As interesting and instructive as the kitchen was, I think it was the laundry that most impressed me. Ever since I was a kid I’ve had something of a laundry fetish and I once imagined how fun it would be to own and operate a dry cleaners and/or commercial laundry. I once had the chance to see the insides of a large hospital laundry (these are mostly gone, replaced with offsite contracted services) but it wasn’t running at the time, so while the sheer size of the machines impressed me I didn’t see them running. These were not the kinds of washing machines you will ever see at the local appliance store and if I hadn’t seen piles of sheets emerging from them I am not sure I would have pegged them for what they were. The dryers looked fairly familiar from laundromats but the sheets and all other linens such as napkins were not dried in tumblers but instead on large complicated machines that took them all in flat and over a long line dried, pressed, and even folded them to be collected by the staff person at the end of the line. The laundry also had dry cleaning capability along with all those fascinating and labor saving specially designed irons and steamers, some of which were demonstrated. I assure you, that is the only way to iron a pair of trousers. I did find that some of the perceived glamour of a commercial laundry was evaporated from me due to the noise, the humidity, the heat, and the apparent sheer drudgery of the work, but not to the point that I am willing to stop salivating over the latest new beautiful laundry machines on my next trip to Lowe’s or Home Depot and I am also not yet willing to allow Tim to touch any buttons on the washer or dryer at home, even though he does have sole custody of the dishwasher.

The engine control room was the last stop on the tour and it looked like what you have seen on television of the control rooms of a major power plant. The room consisted of walls of lights and buttons, switches, and knobs, along with the expected admonition to absolutely touch nothing. The Chief Engineer walked us through the basics of the operations that produced not only propulsion of the ship 24 hours a day, but which also manufacture all fresh water, provide all power and lights, and monitor all equipment and functions that allow for those processes to happen. It seemed an awesome responsibility and I couldn’t imagine having to work down there, but I am glad that someone can and does.

The tour was an expensive opportunity but I was ever so glad that we did it. It really changed my perspective of some aspects of cruising, gave me a totally new appreciation for the amazing amount of dedication and hard work that is provided on a daily basis by a largely invisible crew, and convinced me that there is very little glamourous about a life working at sea.

Cadiz and Sevilla, Spain

Our first mainland port was Cadiz, Spain, which is on the Atlantic side facing west. We have been to Cadiz on every crossing and my first impressions of the city back in 2005 were less than favorable and mostly focused on the amazing amount of dog shit in the streets. Cadiz itself is a major Spanish port and the ship provisions a great deal of goods there but the city itself doesn’t hold a great deal of tourist appeal despite being rather ancient and dating back to the Phoenicians, long before anything remotely resembling the common era. Cadiz does however provide a good port for transiting to Sevilla (Seville), a major Spanish city with amazing history and sights, and we opted to pay for a shuttle from the ship to the city center but not for the organized tour. Our “excursion” provided transit over the roughly 90 minute route and nothing else which was ideal for our purposes.

The history and attractions of Sevilla can easily be found elsewhere in great detail and I am certain we barely brushed the surface in the time we had, but we certainly enjoyed our time in the city. Perhaps oddly, our first stop was the Post Office to mail the many postcards we had purchased in Madeira but which we, of course, had not had time to fill out and address while still on the island. It turned out that the Spanish Post Office has been essential sold to a German bank that operates the postal service as a private for-profit enterprise, and as has been my experience of similar private and for-profit postal operations in Australia, the quality of customer service, speed, and efficiency are all generally far above what you could expect from a government owned and operated system. Government systems, with their “for life no matter what” employees are often slow, inefficient, rude, and generally unpleasant to deal with, but this seems to change with private and for-profit operations. While the United States Postal Service is technically not a government agency it is nonetheless essentially managed by Congress that prohibits them from actually charging what it really costs to provide postal services. Yes, it is expensive to mail something in Europe and I paid at least €1 per post card, which today equals $1.08, which added up with over 25 cards to mail, but I know they have arrived and I was surprised to learn that to mail a post card to Europe costs the same as it does to mail a one-ounce letter, $1.15, so perhaps on international services, which in my experience can move faster to Switzerland than to my great-aunt in very remote and rural Missouri, the USPS is charging it correctly even if $0.49 is insanely and unrealistically low for a domestic first class one ounce envelope.

Of course there is more to see in Sevilla than the post office but as a stamp collector I am always interested in how these services work in other countries. The two big sights in Sevilla are the Alcazar and the cathedral and we opted to start with the Alcazar.

It is important to first note that the word “alcazar” simply means a castle or a fort so it is necessary to be specific about which alcazar you are talking about, in this case the Alcazar of Sevilla, which was originally a Moorish fort which was turned into a Royal residence, which it remains to this day when the Spanish royal family is present. It is a beautiful example of Moorish architecture and design with lovely and extensive gardens as well. Detailed histories of the Alcazar of Sevilla are available elsewhere so I won’t repeat it here. We enjoyed our visit and Tim was especially taken with the geometric patterns of design that are so essential to Islamic art and architecture, largely due to the prohibition against portraying the human form, forcing designers to fully utilize geometric forms of decoration along with stylized portrayals of plants on the facades and interiors of buildings, including on the many glazed tile surfaces.

Our next stop was the cathedral of Sevilla. The Cathedral of Saint Mary of the See, better known as Sevilla Cathedral, is a Roman Catholic cathedral in Sevilla, Andalusia, Spain. It is the largest Gothic cathedral and the third-largest church in the world. It is also the largest cathedral in the world, as the two larger churches, the Basilica of the National Shrine of Our Lady of Aparecida and St Peter’s Basilica, are not the seats of bishops. It was registered in 1987 by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site, along with the Alcázar palace complex and the General Archive of the Indies. After its completion in the early 16th century, the Sevilla Cathedral supplanted Hagia Sophia as the largest cathedral in the world, a title the Byzantine church had held for nearly a thousand years. The cathedral is also the burial site of Christopher Columbus.

Certainly as the above would lead you to believe, the cathedral in Sevilla is impressive in terms of size and decoration, and yes, the tomb of Columbus, well perhaps the tomb of Columbus since the remains believed to be those of Christopher Columbus have been moved about several times between the New World and the Old and some DNA analysis suggests that it might in fact be Christopher’s brother who is buried in Sevilla, or perhaps parts of Christopher, or perhaps even parts of more than one person mixed together, but for sake of argument we will say that if nothing else the tomb is called the tomb of Columbus.

At the risk of offending some people I am afraid that while I found the Sevilla cathedral to be impressive I also find it confusing just as I find any and all such opulent Catholic Church buildings and monuments, certainly most egregiously the Vatican and its attendant Museum and its contents. Of late I have heard much ado and praise of the glories of the new Pope Francis and his commitment to service to the poor and needy and his humble ways of living and so on. And while that all sounds well and good, when confronted with something such as the Sevilla Cathedral and its gilded and golden priceless contents, I have to wonder about the contradictions and the sad irony of an institution that claims to be focused on service to the poor and suffering who also happens to be and remains the single largest land owner in the world with real estate worth that has to be in the billions if not more, priceless artifacts that museums around the world would give billions more to have, and an institution that charges up to tens of thousands of dollars for education even in the primary grades to say nothing of taking billions more from private insurance companies, government health programs, and even down to the last $50 of old ladies Social Security checks for health care, and I have to wonder how that all meshes with service to the poor and the needy. I look at the cathedral in Sevilla, or anywhere else, and I can’t help but wonder how many people could be fed, how many children could be educated, how many people could be housed, how much medical care could be provided, how many elderly could be housed and cared for with dignity and grace while being allowed to keep more of their cash than what a child gets in an allowance for a month, if the Church were to let go of some of its gross worldly glamour and golden artifacts and actually started to truly provide to its full potential and extent to those it claims to most love, value, and exist to serve. Seriously, if it really only takes the price of a cup of coffee to feed, clothe, and provide health care to a child in the developing world, than how many cups of coffee equivalents, and therefore how many child life equivalents are sitting doing essentially no one any practical real world good in Sevilla Cathedral. I can’t imagine with certainty but I would bet quite a few. And even in Spain, which is certainly not the developing world as we think of it, with its 23% unemployment rate, which is much higher among the young, couldn’t all that wealth and grandeur find better uses that are more truly in accord with the words of the Church than its actions? I have to think that the answer is yes, unless of course I have missed the point and what the Pope really means when he praises and pledges commitment to the poor and suffering is solely to provide for the so-called spiritual needs in the hereafter, even as they starve in the now and are endlessly encouraged and mandated to breed yet more children to starve and suffer. In that case, well, then I guess it makes sense to sit on uncountable wealth, enjoy endless privilege, bountiful food, and glamorous lifestyles if you in fact are not concerned with concrete help and action. And lest anyone doubt my sincere confusion, if anyone can actually explain this apparent contradiction in word and claim versus actual physical actions, I would sincerely like to have it cleared up for me so that the next time I go to a beautiful cathedral I can see the sense and value in the endless wealth without reflexively thinking about the starving and the suffering that even one statue could end if it were released to the good of the real people in the now instead of standing in mute silence for the supposed glory of a god who surely is beyond concern with all the gold and gems that he supposedly created in the first place and which he, or she, could therefore presumably create again on demand if desired instead of taking food from the mouth of a Philippine infant for his further glory. Seriously, if anyone has a rational explanation, I would truly love to hear it.

When ashore we like to eat and take a break from ship food. Yes, I know, many people think the food on a cruise ship is the highlight, but I think that is mostly based on the American obsession with the quantity of food as opposed to its quality. We would rather eat less of a great dish than a large amount of mediocre food, so Spanish tapas was great for us. For those that are not familiar, tapas are small dishes so that in one meal people can sample potentially lots of different dishes and even share them instead of having a larger portion of one thing that they eat themselves. Tapas originated as something like a snack or an appetizer but they have evolved into entire meals. Tapas may be cold or hot and can be almost anything. Some chefs and restaurants have moved far away from the traditional tapas contents into wide ranging and elaborate new concoctions. We had more traditional tapas that started with olives and cheese and extended to include stuffed avocado (it was amazing), fried cheese, calamari, and other fish such as sardines. Cheese items were sprinkled liberally with pine nuts. We greatly enjoyed our leisurely and casual lunch before heading back to meet the bus to take us on a rather tedious drive back to the ship.

Malaga, Spain

The next day our new port was Malaga, again, a port we have been to in the past. The ship docks in Malaga primarily to serve as a gateway for tours to the Alhambra, a trip we made on the last crossing. This time we decided to stay and enjoy Malaga as a city and we are glad that we did. Our first stop was the local Picasso museum. The Malaga Picasso museum is small and it certainly doesn’t have the greatest collection of Picasso works but Malaga was the birthplace and hometown of Picasso into his late teens and they are justifiable proud of their, arguably, most famous son even if many people and fans do not realize he was born and raised in Malaga, in part because he never returned to live there once he left and he is therefore more strongly associated with other locations. It is a given that Tim usually hates art museums and I was worried about how he would receive Picasso, especially some of the more abstract works, but I was pleased and surprised to discover that Tim rather enjoyed the visit and even brought a postcard of his favorite work that resides in easy view on his desk. The visit was short because the collection is small but I certainly enjoyed the visit since I had studied Picasso when I was a senior in high school and I learned to greatly appreciate his works. I found it valuable that the museum showed some of Picasso’s very representational works that demonstrate, despite what some might claim based on his later more abstract works, that he was a classically trained and capable artist who could make paintings of subjects that are clearly identifiable but who followed his instincts and visions to make truly revolutionary works of art that remain celebrated to this day.

To my surprise, there is a wonderfully preserved Roman amphitheater in the heart of modern Malaga and it was easy to visit. I think many people forget, or perhaps never realized the extent of the Roman range in the Mediterranean basin. The Romans had well developed colonies and cities all along the modern day Spanish coast, including in Malaga, building on settlements that extend, as do other cities, back to the Phoenicians of antiquity, pre-dating even the Greeks. Overall we enjoyed our visit to Malaga, enhanced by stunningly beautiful weather and a well-developed waterfront and port.

Cartagena, Spain

Our last port before docking in the port of Civitavecchia which serves Rome, where we would depart the ship for good, was the Spanish coastal city of Cartagena. The Columbian version of Cartagena, fronting the Caribbean Sea, is much better known to most people and in fact when you first consult Google Maps for Cartagena it is the South American city that will first appear. The Spanish Cartagena is a relatively small city and it is best known for the quantity and quality of its ruins which range from the Roman through the Moorish to the medieval European, with many buildings built atop the ruins and remains of earlier buildings through the ages such that as you move through what was a cathedral turns into a Moorish fort and was originally a Roman amphitheater. The amphitheater is well preserved and maintained with an excellent museum on the site. The amphitheater is certainly not the only ancient and well preserved ruin in the immediate vicinity of Cartagena and an enthusiast for such relics could easily spend several days exploring everything to be seen. We were able to see many such remnants even from the balcony of our cabin as such remains surround the harbor, which makes sense as they once served as defensive fortifications.

Aside from ancient relics, we also enjoyed some more modern attractions from the comfort of our balcony including a local rowing team that was practicing in circles around the ship. The ship itself provided some level of entertainment because while many passengers were ashore the crew was launched into a full scale emergency exercise that progressed to the point of the launching all of the life boats from our side, the starboard (the right side if facing forward to the bridge). These exercises are, of course, intended to keep the crew in practice for the rare occasion when they might need to perform these tasks. Most of the life boat crews were quite competent but we did enjoy watching the rather fumbling attempts of lifeboat number 5, directly below us. They got there in the end, but they clearly were the least competent, so we were pleased to note that we were assigned to lifeboat number 9.

Final Days on Board and the Future Plans

Our final day on board was a sea day as we moved between Corsica, France and Sardinia, Italy. We resisted the inevitable need to start packing for as long as we could but ultimately we had to bow to reality and get things ready for departure the following morning. We had our suitcases out in the hall before midnight and settled in for the fitful sleep so common before a departure.

We had planned our departure in the morning to allow us some time to investigate some other cabin classes that we might choose for future cruises. During the trip we did place deposits on two future cruises for 2016. The first one is another crossing that includes the Azores again, but which heads north along the shore of France, including the beaches of Normandy, before cruising on into the Baltic Sea ending at Copenhagen. This will be a quite different route from all other crossings which have gone into, or from, the Mediterranean. This trip would be on the MS Zuiderdam again, our third sailing on that vessel. The second one we placed a deposit on is a more traditional crossing from Rome, via Spain once again, stopping in Madeira again (yippee!) and moving on towards Fort Lauderdale. That voyage is scheduled to be on the MS Koningsdam, the absolute newest ship in the Holland America Line (HAL) fleet that hasn’t even launched on its maiden voyage as of yet, an event scheduled for this summer. The MS Koningsdam will be the largest ship in the HAL fleet although it will remain far smaller than the behemoth 5,000+ passenger ships sailing the Caribbean these days.

The advantage of booking onboard is that deposits on most cruises are only $100 per person to hold your cabin with final payment due 75 days before departure. If circumstances should change or if for any reason one decides to not actually take the cruise, deposits are completely transferable to another cruise or they can be completely refunded, so there is zero risk in planning for the future while in the midst of enjoying the cruise experience.

We took the time to check out the Neptune Suites that are located at the very back of the ship and we sort of liked the quite different layout and the much larger, and wrap around the corner, balconies. But our primary purpose was to investigate the new class of cabin that only exists on the newer and larger ships that are very similar in size to the much more expensive Neptune Suites but with much more attractive pricing. We found the size to be more than adequate for our needs and considerably larger than cabins we have been in on past cruises for up to 28 days so we are confident that we would be satisfied, especially with savings that would amount to the cruise fare on an additional voyage for one person. That is a considerable savings.

Waiting in Rome

We left the ship toward the end of the disembarkation process because our flight was on the next day so there was no need to hurry towards the airport on the transfer bus. Many of the passengers on our transfer were staying at the airport, as we were, for flights the next day while some were continuing their vacations elsewhere in Europe, including one couple seated near us who were flying to Albania, another dream destination of mine, as well as another couple who was renting a car and heading towards Tuscany. Surprisingly to me, some passengers were entertaining themselves while waiting for the MS Zuiderdam to come out of about two weeks of dry dock in Sicily to continue cruising aboard the same ship that they had crossed the Atlantic on, sailing about the Mediterranean.

We were early arriving at the airport Hilton, a location we have stayed at before, and technically our assigned room wasn’t ready at that hour but because of our Gold status with Hilton we were offered a free upgrade to the Executive Level floor with a room that was ready and waiting. Of course we accepted it so that we could crash out and relax, waiting for the next day’s flight. After a nap we looked into taking a cab into the nearby town for dinner, but the trip of no more than a few kilometers would have cost about €20 so we opted, perhaps unwisely, to return to the airport for food. We had a dismal and mostly cold meal at a cafeteria and perhaps we should have just opted to eat an overpriced meal in the hotel but we live and we learn.

Flying Home

The next morning we rode the shuttle to Terminal 5 of the Leonardo da Vinci International Airport which is from where all flights to the United States depart. I am certain the design of the terminal has something to do with perceived enhanced security for flights headed to the United States, which meant that it would be a royal pain. Once we cleared the podiums where you answer inane questions about who has handled your baggage and what is in it (a point at which anyone bent on mischief would clearly lie with no reasonable way to be detected, therefore a waste of time), we progressed through passport control, which amounted to an officer engaged in an enthusiastic conversation with a co-worker barely glancing at the exterior of my documents. Then we could check our baggage with Vicenzo, who was delightfully exuberant despite the baggage conveyors being broken requiring porters to manually haul all bags to the point at which technology hadn’t failed. THEN we moved on to the point at which we boarded shuttle buses to drive to the remote terminal where the planes actually were. As Delta One, the new name for Business Elite, passengers and Sky Club members we had access to the Alitalia lounge for our wait. The lounge was fairly loud with barely working Wi-Fi and limited bathrooms, but it was clearly better than the concourse which had no seating for the waiting passengers who didn’t have a lounge access pass. While our plane was at the gate, it had apparently arrived late and therefore we were delayed boarding and departing, although all time was made up in the air and we arrived slightly early.

We were flying the Airbus A330 equipment inherited from Northwest Airlines during the merger, equipment we had flown before on the Honolulu to Atlanta route prior to the installation of the new lie-flat bed seats and other upgrades. I always enjoy having a bed in the sky and do feel badly for those in the back who I know can’t be comfortable sitting upright for the 11+ hour flight, but I don’t feel badly enough to offer to trade. I rated the comfort of this bed/seat as below those on the Boeing 747 and Boeing 777, but higher than the Thompson Solutions seats on the Boeing 767 series. The service of the flight attendants was adequate but certainly nothing to write home about and only one flight attendant was awarded an appreciation certificate that are given to us Diamond Medallions at the beginning of each year. While I didn’t notice it, during the flight, somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, I passed the milestone of having flown 1,000,000 miles with Delta Airlines and have now officially entered the Million Miler group which grants me at least Silver Medallion status for the remainder of my life regardless of how much I do, or do not, fly. I also qualified for a free gift, in my case a Hartmann leather briefcase with a retail value of about $500, so that was quite nice and it arrives tomorrow via UPS. Aside from that the benefits of being a Million Miler are pretty limited but at least my Medallion identification tags will have a large M that denotes the status, a factor that will only matter, or be noticed, by other frequent fliers with Delta who for reasons that defy us all aspire to the same quasi-achievement of spending a great deal of time sitting in airplane seats on Delta equipment. Tim is on track to reach two million miler status, probably this year, which will grant him Gold Medallion status for life. And his tags will have a 2 M and such, again important or recognized by a limited number of folks at the airport.

We screwed up at the airport, making the mistake of following the hoards that were connecting. We sailed through Global Entry and waited for bags that never arrived because we were in the wrong bag claim area. We should have progressed, via a very long underground walkway from Concourse E to the new Concourse F, where all passengers who are terminating in Atlanta are supposed to collect their bags and go through Customs and Immigration. I’m not sure why it is called that since you go through Immigration first and then Customs, but such it is. Finally Tim noticed that all the bags on the belt had connecting cities with none tagged for Atlanta, so he asked and was informed of our mistake. A kind Immigration agent took us back through the way we had come, something you would never be allowed to do without an official escort and pointed us in the right direction. With the help of a motorized cart and a long walk we arrived in the correct place, went through Immigration and Customs again, and found our lonely bags with no further incident. The drive home was uneventful and our two babies, the Miniature Pinchers, Bailey and Rusty, were quite happy to have us home.

Final Thoughts

Our fondness for Atlantic crossings is confirmed, obviously since we have booked two more. With the sailing this autumn that takes us from the Mediterranean, through the Suez Canal, and across the Indian Ocean to Singapore, we move closer to having sailed around the globe, albeit in pieces. Someday I look forward to crossing the Pacific, either the long way from Australia to San Diego, or the short route from Japan, through the Aleutian Islands to Seattle, but for the next year or so I will look forward to the amazing relaxation and pleasure of sailing across the Atlantic in reasonably luxury with my best friend and the most awesome life and travel partner one could ever ask for, Timothy.

Cheers to all and may you have great adventures of your own!