We Are In France, and Boy Are My Arms Tired!
Actually it is my legs that are really tired this morning. I went to bed at about nine, and, at the time, we were still in port. At ten, when they started the engines I woke up thinking we were having an earthquake (seaquake?). After I figured out where I was and what was going on, I fell back asleep and slept very soundly. I woke up sometime in the night, wandered off to the bathroom, and then when I got back into bed I wondered what time it was. So, I reached over and turned on the light on the nightstand to see what time the clock read. The clock read 10:35?
How could I possibly have slept so soundly and only thirty-five minutes had passed. I knew it wasn’t 10:35 in the morning because it was pitch dark out. So, then I laid awake far too long trying to figure out if I had read the sailing time incorrectly, but that still didn’t make sense. The thing I didn’t bother to do (I AM A IDIOT) was go over to the desk and check my watch. Because then I would have realized that the battery in the clock died at 10:35. So, instead I dreamed all night about clocks and time and being late. The only way I managed to figure it out was at 8:00, when we docked in Marseille and I looked over at it still said 10:35.
How depressing, when I left my cabin this morning, there was a letter in my cabin e-mail with all the details of disembarking from the ship on Wednesday, my transfer to the airport, and my luggage tags for leaving the ship. That is always a sure sign that the cruise is just about over. Tomorrow we will have to have our bags packed and out in the hall before we go to dinner. And then I will have to be up Wednesday morning at 4:30 a.m.; because I will be disembarking at 6:10 for the airport. Well, of course, there is also the small matter of clearing customs at the ship, before I can transfer to the airport. It is amazing that a ten day cruise, that you plan on for so many months, can suddenly be over so quickly. I have just now gotten to the point where I know which direction to turn when I get off the elevator, so that I don’t end up wandering the wrong side of the ship. I have just now gotten to the point that the dining staff knows me when I come in, the wine stewards have figured out that I don’t drink, and the servers in the buffet know that I always ask for two scoops of scrambled eggs for breakfast, instead of one.
I have also figured out what areas of the ship are nice for relaxing, and which areas are good for listening to music in the afternoon or the evening. I have figured out which members of our 640-member little family will say good morning or afternoon, which ones would love to have you joined them for a meal and a chat, and which ones to avoid at all costs. A friend asked me if I liked the small ship better than the large ship. It is hard to decide. There are certainly advantages to both. The large ships offer you all of the non-stop events and shows to keep you going night or day, but they also provide you with two thousand strangers who you seldom see more than once or twice during the cruise. On this smaller ship, you see the same persons several times a day, and when you run into some of them ashore, you instantly know that they are from the same ship. I think if I had my choice, I would take a smaller ship again, but one that didn’t have non-stop days in port. There is something nice about being at sea for twenty four hours at a time, when you have nothing more important to do than eat and read and nap. The different port every day takes you out of the world of cruising, and instead puts you in the world of a floating hotel. I think I prefer a combination of the two. The sights that you get to explore are certainly the magic of the vacation, but the time onboard ship is like the icing on the cake.
OH YEA, FRANCE!
The one draw back of traveling my cruise ship is that you don’t end up arriving in the middle of the city. Some times, like Rome, you are 45 miles away from the city in Civitavecchia. Other cities you actually arrive in that city, but exactly near anything that you want to see. Such is the case of Marseille. We docked at a very nice pier. I could see one of the cathedrals near by, but there didn’t appear to be anyway to get across the freeway that divided the pier from the city. So, in my continued effort to abuse my legs, my hips, my back, and my feet; I set out on foot. Well, after crossing this vast wasteland of nothingness and construction sites (what the Hell were they building?), I finally saw a big set of steps leading up to this old fortress. So, I went up the steps followed the path around …. and around, and finally arrived at the local marina. Now, there is no way any other city could match the beauty of some of the yachts in Monte Carlo; but I defiantly have never seen so many boats crammed together in one marina. There were so many masts sticking up that harbor that it looked like the olds day in New York when all of the buildings had a mass of TV antenna. Well, I walked and I walked, but I didn’t find very many shops. There were lots and lots or restaurants and outdoor cafes, but not really any stores. After hiking for another half hour, I came to a very busy area of the city that was set up with a beautiful old-fashioned carousel and a Ferris wheel, and lots and lots of little sidewalk booths, most of them selling manger scenes, crèches, and Christmas figures of Mary and Joseph and baby Jesus. The amazing thing was each of these canvas-covered booths all seemed to have identical stuff for sale. Oh there were a few booths selling picture frames, or hand-painted mirrors for sale, but most of them were selling the identical Christmas figures. And there wasn’t one menorah in the bunch. So, after wandering through all these booths (I will never make fun of Holiday Bazaars at church again) I grabbed a cab and came back to the ship. And that was the extent of my visit to France!
Tonight we sailed for Majorca at 6:00 p.m.; and for the first time during this voyage we have very rough water. My fellow travelers and I have been trying to walk down the hallways without following on our collective asses, and so far we seem to have made it. I keep waiting for a handy Boy Scout to offer to walk me down the corridor to my cabin. But since this cruise seems to be lacking in Boy Scouts, I think I will stagger my way back to my cabin and watch TV.
Good Night!
