Disclaimers: Mostly PG-13, liver abuse, cheesy goldfish, sarcasm, hyperbole, self-deprecation and probably longer than all the Twilight movies put together. The Somali Pirates are now Oscar Winners so we can’t afford them anymore.
As always, these reviews are not so much to educate or inform, but rather to set the details of our foolhardy escapades in our own minds. After all, it’s important to learn from your mistakes if you want to repeat them perfectly at a future date. If we can make a couple of people laugh until tears run down their legs or snort coffee through their noses, we consider that a bonus. Here goes.
After being diagnosed with debilitating cases of Vacation Deficit Disorder, the Evil Twin and I decided to seek treatment on the high seas. San Diego to Anchorage on a Dam ship looked like just what the doctor ordered but the Passenger Act of 1886, enacted to protect the burgeoning American Cruise Ship Industry, conspired to up the difficulty level significantly. So, what should have been an easy itinerary turned into something that involved NASA-level planning and a whole file folder of color coded docs and confirmations. Luckily, Her Evilness has a label maker and isn’t afraid to use it.
The plan was to catch the train to San Diego, board the Amsterdam for four nights of Vacation Replacement Therapy, spend one night in Vancouver, hop the Statendam for a week and then spend a night in Anchorage on our own before flying home to beautiful downtown North Hollywood, our health restored. Lord knows, we’re both ready for some blessings that aren’t in disguise.
All those connections sounded exhausting and I was hoping to get into better shape and lose 10 pounds before the big day. I only have 13 to go. Apparently, it’s only June and I’m already eating at a Thanksgiving level. Oh well, on the plus side (see what I did there?) fat people are harder to kidnap.
Day 1, Tuesday – Travel Day. Sis and her Long Suffering Hubby (LSH) picked me up and drove us to the Van Nuys train station where the Twin’s bag came in under weight (as it always does) and thankfully the scale monitor turned away just as my bag sent it tipping from 49 to 53. But I’m STILL taller.
We always opt for First Class on the train because it’s only about $10 extra. Generally, we’re in a lower category cabin on the ship so this way we can pretend we’re the princesses we surely would be if the Gods were just -- on the first leg of the trip at least. This time, we’d received paid upgrade offers and would be sailing in a Neptune Suite for the first outing and a Vista on the second. This meant we didn’t need to re-pack the tiaras in San Diego but could keep them on for the duration which was great because I hate how that messes up my hair.
We settled in on the train, hooked up to the free wifi and enjoyed three bottles of chard to start the trip. Half bottles naturally, it was still morning after all.
Once on the ship, we checked in to our beautiful suite and immediately began marking our territory and spreading out. We lightened our purses of all the electronics we wouldn’t be needing, grabbed $20 each in case the casino beckoned and that obligatory $5 in case one of us knocked over a glass and needed to tip on the spot. (We try not to of course; spilling a full glass of wine is the adult equivalent of letting go of a balloon.)
Once unpacked, we visited the Crows for Trivia and met bartender Jeremie who had recently joined the ship. He instantly grokked our preference for goldfish over peanuts and the first of many wine cards was activated and exercised. (That was the only exercise we planned to be a part of on this trip; we’re both in the Fitness Protection Program.)
Trivia was, as usual, cutthroat and bloodthirsty which is why Sis and I play for ourselves. What people won’t do for a Holland America golf towel! Although it did give us a chance to drop a few Douglas Adams references, as in “there’s a frood who really knows where his towel is.”
We also checked in to the Ocean and Sports Bars just to verify that the wine cards worked in all zip codes and ensure that no hard working beverage staffers felt overlooked.
Eventually it was time to dress for dinner which is infinitely easier in such spacious accommodations. We managed it with a minimum of hair pulling and hip-bruising and then set off for our late seating in the MDR.
Backstory: The Amsterdam has always been a favorite, since that day 10 years ago when we boarded her for a 17-night sail from Valparaiso to Rio and first fell in love with cruising. Since then, the Rotterdam and Statendam may have pushed her out of the top spot but she’ll always be our first Dam Ship. Still, last May, we set out on a five night coastal where we hoped to convert a couple of family members to the ranks of cruise fandom. For reasons still unknown to us, the MDR experience was a train wreck from start to finish. Somewhat reminiscent of a Chuck E. Cheese’s that had lost its liquor license.
Suffice it to say we made no converts on that cruise. We were disappointed and dearly hoped the service levels in the A’Dam dining room would return to those we’ve come to expect before we sailed her again.
They didn’t. They surpassed the best we’ve ever experienced. Even on the cruises where we’ve considered the MDR service to be a 10 out of 10, the first night of any leg of the journey usually sees some delays, which is to be expected and never a problem. On most nights, I might have to wait a few minutes for a double espresso when most people order plain coffee. That has never bothered me, and never will.
On this sailing, Waiters Mukliss and Adi, along with Wine Steward Joey (who didn’t need to be spell-checked, as most stuarts/stewarts do) were pulling out our seats for us before we’d left our cabin. By day two, Adi’s left hand cleared my plate as his right hand set down my espresso.
We love the dining room experience and very much enjoy a leisurely two hour dinner. Which we did most nights on this trip. But it would also have been easy to get in and out in under an hour if you had some place to be. We were never rushed but we never waited a second for anything. And through it all, they took the time to laugh and joke with us, telling us a little bit about themselves and asking about our day. Truly exceptional service. Although Chuck E. Cheese’s does have a bouncy castle. Just sayin’.
After dinner, we stuck our heads into the main show which was Glenn Hirsch, a comedian (or so the daily program read) who still thinks it’s funny to pull out every old school stereotype of fat, aging, gluttonous cruisers who go to sleep at 6:00 but set alarms for the midnight buffet and don’t even realize the ship makes port stops. I found myself biting my tongue and rolling my eyes hard enough to affect the earth’s rotation.
We ducked out and went to visit Derek in the Piano Lounge (not Piano Bar as there were no seats at the piano.) He was doing an Abba retrospective and we managed to get seats at the banquettes after a short wait. He was very good but the place was packed and we decided to hit the Crows Nest for Happy Hour and enjoyed chatting with some new friends who we learned were also transferring to the Statendam in Vancouver (the Passenger Act Gang). The wine cards continued to perform up to expectations but we planned to keep putting them through their paces just in case they tried to slack off.
Eventually it was time for bed and I was already planning a nap for tomorrow. All in all, a marvelous first day.
Day 2, Wednesday – Sea Day. We woke up when the sun streaming in around the carefully binder-clipped curtains threatened to burn our retinas away through tightly clenched eyelids. Note to HAL – BALCKOUT DRAPES.
The nicest part of an otherwise unpleasantly early morning was the fact that Sis went down the hallway to the Neptune Lounge and returned with coffee and rolls so we didn’t have to brave the Lido before rehydrating. How could we be so thirsty when we drank so much the night before?
Sis also confirmed something she had noted on the last vacation we shared a room – I suffer from what she’s termed Nighttime Tourettes. Apparently, while fast asleep, I punctuate the silence with short bursts of profanity. That or I’m channeling Redd Foxx. Gotta have that checked out. Or soundproof my apartment. Seriously, &#%!@?!"?.
We wandered the ship a bit, checking out the shops only to confirm what we’ve known since our second cruise – we’ve already purchased everything we wanted to and no new selections have been added. Even though this was our first Alaska cruise, we bought all the Alaska tchotchkes on a coastal sailing years ago.
Around noon, we decided some food was in order and so we headed to the Lido Deck to try the new Dive In. New for us, anyway. We’ve always preferred the Terrace Grill to the indoor Lido offerings at lunchtime and this was a first for us. Upscale burgers with caramelized onions, Gouda cheese and chop chop salad. The food was excellent but it was a bit disorganized. The wait was easily 30 minutes which is a bit much for what I consider “fast food” but they did hand out beepers so you could at least have a seat and enjoy the first adult beverage of the morning (DAY, I mean day.)
At 1:00 we headed to the Crow’s Nest for the blood sport known as Trivia. Wandered the ship a bit more and ended up at the Ocean for Happy Hour at 4:00. Happy happened.
Tonight was the first formal night, even though the print-‘em-yourself documents -- which really don’t cause one to break out in a doc dance -- stated four smart casual nights. We’ve learned that there’s always a formal night when catching the tail end of a longer cruise. We gave ourselves enough time to primp and pamper and enjoyed a bottle of our “toted-aboard” Eberle chard in the room while we did so. (It was much nicer when the onboard stash of wine could be packed in checked luggage rather than wearing a groove in your shoulder and then having to be brought out and registered prior to boarding like some kind of contraband.)
No white chair covers or silver candle holders in the MDR, nor was there any live music playing us in. Still, Muklis, Adi and Joey were front and center, welcomed us with open arms and delivered a wonderful experience.
I love trying new foods on a cruise because it’s really the only time I can do it without spending a lot of money on something I’m not sure I’ll like. At home, what I call cooking is mostly melting cheese on stuff. I once tried making a full meal from scratch and ended up summoning a demon. Now, I’m not likely to attempt anything too fancy without a Haz Mat Team on speed dial. On a cruise, I can be a bit adventurous. Sis can’t even face a green M&M. I think raisin cookies that look like chocolate chip cookies are the reason she has trust issues.
The night before, I had an appetizer that included a lone mussel, which is something I was sure I’d hate but was actually quite nice and no epi-pen was needed. Tonight I tried lobster bisque but I’m afraid I can’t give an accurate review of my reaction because this is a family show. It wasn’t even night time and my affliction was threatening to rise to the surface. I’ve tried and tried but giant sea spiders are definitely not my thing, even when pureed with sherry.
We hit the Ocean and Crows after dinner and went to bed when Jeremie told us to.
Day 3, Thursday – Sea Day. We woke up slowly and eventually made our way to the Dive In/Terrace for late breakfast tacos before visiting the Crows for Trivia.
Trivia comforts us in two ways. One, we know we’ll never be asked to assume any kind of high-powered office because we’re just not bright enough; and Two, if we were, we’d never lead the planet into war because we just don’t have the stomach for it. Unless the payout is something much better than a golf towel.
I’d like to say we saw whales but we actually saw some spurts of water that were most likely made by whales but ones that were too shy to actually show themselves above the water line. I get it. I’m not exactly happy with my “summer body” either.
We then visited the Inebriation Assistants in the Casino Bar before going back to the room to sober up before Happy Hour.
There are gaps in our notes but it most likely went something like this: more Trivia, Happy Hour, Dinner, Casino, Crows, Bed. A lovely time was had by all. You know what they say -- There’s No Time Like the Pleasant.
Day 4, Friday -- Astoria, Oregon. Drinking doesn’t cause hangovers, waking up does. But the good news is – after three sea days, we we’re finally getting off and would have wifi. I hadn’t seen a picture of Benedict Cumberbatch in three days! (Ladies, just Google him; Gentlemen, never mind.)
Backstory: (Not on the Benedict Cumberbatch thing. That’s not an obsession or anything and I think the restraining order was a complete overreaction on his part.) No, Astoria. I managed to get there once when I travelled with my friend Diana but a Level Five case of the Wine Flu prevented me from remembering anything but an overpowering marine aroma and a really annoying voice whispering, “Go to a meeting. Seriously, go to a meeting.” And we never did make it all the way to town.
Sis and I have since been on at least two cruises that were supposed to stop there but the choppy seas off the Oregon Coast made it impossible. This time we made it. There was a trolley to town but it wasn’t awake yet (not that we really were) so we decided to set off on foot. We walked along the train tracks toward the town and noticed that the mile markers kept telling us we were getting further from our destination rather than closer. Still, it was probably only about a mile and a half and there was a Maritime Memorial just under the Astoria-Megler Bridge that connects Oregon to Washington where we stopped and rested while taking in the view (Fitness Protection Program, remember?)
Once in town we found a lovely little Coffee Shop called Street 14. We had only planned as far as finding wifi and so when asked for our order, went kind of mute as we considered the question. Coffee? Breakfast? We hadn’t really thought the possibilities through. We stood there in a fog of debilitating indecisiveness. I’m still not sure what the “tells” were but the counter guy said, “Wine?” and we were back on our feet again. Not to get technical, but according to chemistry, alcohol is a solution.
After “breakfast” and several Internet photos of The Cumberbatch (Oh, sweet baby Jesus on a dinosaur, I needed that!) we wandered the town, and found that the locals were incredibly welcoming and very friendly. We snapped some nice pictures of the Oregon Film Museum, housed in the historic County Jail building, which pays tribute to the five or so famous movies filmed in the state (pretty sure that’s Goonies and four footnotes.) We walked some more and thankfully, we found the cute little free trolley back to the ship before our feet gave out.
Backstory: a month or so ago, the Evil Twin and I saw a show at a small local theater down the street that we both thoroughly enjoyed and she’s been talking about ever since. A performer named Jim Curry who does a spot-on John Denver. He looks like him, he sounds like him, and clearly, he respects the man and his music. He and his wife Anne, who plays several instruments and sings backup, put on a wonderful show and Sis has signed up to follow them on Facebook and other social media.
When we got back from the big city doings in Astoria, I pulled open the daily program and called out to her in the bathroom, “guess who’s headlining the showroom tonight? It’s someone you really like.” “Jimmy Buffett?” “Try again.” “Jim Curry!” “Yup.”
I think she screamed. This was one night she made me skip my espresso and rushed us off to the theater where she tried out every seat in the house before picking her perfect spot. The show was great and she sang in her sleep all night long. (Don’t read anything into this but I think I cursed more than usual.)
Day 5, Saturday -- Vancouver. They kicked us off. They said they loved us but they kicked us off. Happily, we were able to stay in the room while the misspelled stuarts straightened it for the next folks and changed the beds (which we immediately short-sheeted in a pique of jealousy at the thought of having to “downgrade” to a Vista Suite. Can you say, “Quality Problem?”)
At Canada Place we grabbed our bags and a taxi. Apparently it was Victoria Day weekend which I take it means that everyone with access to a car is called into taxi service. Our cabbie had clearly not been in the city more than a few hours and I’m not terribly sure he had ever operated a motor vehicle before. We almost hit one of the guys directing traffic (not too sure about his fitness for his job either) before we ever left the parking garage.
Once on the streets, we gave him the name of our hotel which clearly rang no bells. No problem, we have the street address -- 1225. “Robson? I know Robson,” he assured us. The idea that we wanted to be dropped at a specific location on Robson seemed to be beyond his ken (and frankly, well past his Barbie.)
Once on Robson he would randomly pull up and recite the closest street number. “1648?” “Yes, …. yes it is, but that hardly does us any good. How about 1225?” So, he’d drive another two blocks and try to wipe us off at 1836. “Uhm, do you think it might be behind us?” he’d ask. “Well, unless Vancouver uses a numbering system we’re not familiar with, I’d say that’s a good bet.”
We made at least three U-turns and at one stop sign a pedestrian banged on the hood to express his displeasure at having been bumped hard enough to spill his cup of Tim Horton’s. By the time we got to the hotel we were more sober than we’d been since leaving home and we set out to do something about that.
The Blue Horizon Hotel has a nice location and reasonable prices but since our room wasn’t ready we were more concerned with the restaurant/lounge.
We checked the bags and walked into the Abode just off the lobby where we found that adult beverages were not served until 11:00. OK, we can rally. We are professionals, after all. We ordered toast, bacon and coffee, hardly a combo that will really tax the kitchen staff at any restaurant that doesn’t have a bouncy castle.
Perhaps the electricity was down in the kitchen because the toast and bacon seemed to come straight from the refrigerator without ever having met any type of heat source. That however, doesn’t explain the coffee which seemed to be made from some combination of malt and the tears of small children. If we’d wanted liquid Marmite we would have been born British and presumably, would have the developed the proper antibodies.
I will say that the service was excellent but, as it was, we hurried through breakfast and went in search of other adventures. Assuming the 11:00 rule was Province-wide, we had an hour to kill before we could begin drinking Canada dry so we set off, lugging 10 pound carry-on bags and feeling every bit of the last four days of debauchery.
Today was Preakness Day and while we know that hats are only de rigueur at the Derby, we have hats and so we needed to wear hats. We passed several possible destinations as the 10 pound carry-ons morphed into 20 pound carry-ons.
We ended up at a place called Milestones where we killed a bottle of chard and waited for a place down the street, called Shenanigans, to open at noon. Shenanigans had a drawing of a leprechaun on the front window and seemed to be a friendly, Irish Sports Bar so we figured it would be a great place to watch the race. It was at least one of those things – an Irish Sports Bar. Friendly? Not so much. We sat, moved, sat, moved again and still couldn’t get the bartender to turn and make eye contact. Eventually we figured it must be a locals’ joint and moved on.
We walked the length of the street several times looking for a place to get comfortable and spend an afternoon sampling the local fare only to find that most establishments tended to close for lunch. My patience was decidedly in the deficit range. Still encumbered of the heavy baggage, (30 pounds, easy) we wandered into a place that didn’t look all that welcoming but was. CocoRico Café is a small, homey bistro with a full bar and even fuller kitchen. We were in Vancouver for 24 hours and went there three times. Twice for drinks and once for dinner (and drinks).
Waitress Mariana, just in from France, was there each time and didn’t bat an eye when we whipped out our fascinators before the race. California Chrome won easily and with two races under his belt, we now had a Triple Crown hopeful to bolster our spirits.
Checking into the hotel, we found that the corner room, and they’re all corner rooms, was gorgeous, with windows along two full walls and a balcony with a wonderful view of the Vancouver architecture that would make Prince Charles weep. Don’t get me wrong, I love Vancouver and I think it’s a beautiful city, but somehow it’s in spite of the architecture, not because of it. Whenever I see a building with some sort of flourish or, really anything that calls attention to itself, I think, “that’s just putting a hat on ugly.” (Much like with our Preakness hats!)
After dinner at CocoRico, we came home and slept well.
Day 6, Sunday -- Vancouver. Blackout drapes! (HAL – take note)
We slept in a bit, walked around the corner to Breka Bakery for bowls of coffee that didn’t taste like petroleum products and then went to say goodbye to Mariana at CocoRico. She was surprised, since wine is not a big seller for them, that they still had any left but they did. They probably don’t now.
Luckily, the cabbie who took us to the ship actually seemed to have driven in Vancouver before and delivered us to the port unscathed. There was a bit of a line and our feet and backs were killing us. We were pulled out of the line to present our two bottles of contraband for registration, which we had purchased in a liquor store in Vancouver. Unfortunately, we also bought something else that might prove to be a problem. Pocky Sticks. Billed as Chocolate Cream Covered Biscuit Sticks. These are evil. Seriously, for the next seven days, all we could think was, “why didn’t we buy more?” Save yourself the rehab. Just Say No! (Two days after arriving home, Sis had Googled them, found the closest dealer, um, I mean distributor, and bought enough to dole out like Methadone while we worked them out of our systems.)
We checked in on the Statendam, which has come to be our favorite ship of the Dam fleet. After making our way to our Vista Suite we found that our keycards didn’t work. I left Sis guarding the now 40 pound carry-ons and went to the Front Desk for new keys. The new keys didn’t work any better than the first ones did. Apparently, we weren’t the only ones as the desk was mobbed with folks having the same problem. We finally gained entry from our passing room stewards, Achmad and Made, and vowed to go back when we were sufficiently hydrated.
The Muster Drill was more of a downer than usual. Rather than announcing that “in the event of a real emergency we would send you to your staterooms,” they actually did. Many experienced cruisers went directly to their stations but we passed several folks who were going to their rooms as directed to put on heavy clothing and grab their essentials. (Our essentials were sitting in an ice bucket.)
This caused the drill to last close to an hour because the folks in their rooms didn’t even begin making their way to the Promenade until most of us had already been there for 40 minutes. To top it off, the Captain’s announcements were loud enough to trigger car alarms in Toronto.
After re-visiting the room and killing the first bottle onboard, we made our way to the Crows where we met Froilan and Elmer who would take very good care of us for the next seven days. At this point I’m sure that whenever our cards are swiped, a message pops up that says, “Mostly Harmless. Give them chardonnay and goldfish and no one will get hurt.”
Waiter Rein sold us the first wine tasting of the cruise and Froilan made no qualms about announcing loudly that, “Come Happy Hour, you’re mine!” No problem.
The MDR staff clearly got the same training as on the A’Dam because everything was as quick as it could be. Gede, Benjo and Made were front and center, every night. We bought a seven night wine package for the dining room and the first bottle, at least, measured up.
After dinner, we headed to the Piano Bar to see who was at the keys. If anyone remembers, there have been two HAL Piano Dudes who have knocked us off our barstools – Lee Strubeck, who as far as we can tell, is not longer doing the circuit, and Jimmy Maddox who we have actually changed itineraries for. Our first night with Damien has us thinking we may have found a third. He has a great voice and is obviously an accomplished musician.
My only “complaint” is that he’s hard to sing along with as he changes up the tempo and cadence in such a way that I feel he’d rather perform for a rapt audience than really foster a Piano Bar atmosphere with people getting actively involved in the show. Still, we chair danced and sang anyway. He also doesn’t take breaks so if you sit at the piano, and you want to move on to some other activity, it’s really difficult to leave without drawing attention to yourself and feeling rude.
We realized early on that requesting a particular song might not be the way to go and so, when he did ask for requests, we would name an artist instead. He always delivered, generally picking a B side that was lesser known than the songs the artist is famous for. That’s not a bad thing – we wrote down several songs/albums to look up when we got home, but I suppose a Piano Bar is not really where I want to hear new material but rather songs I know by heart.
Day 7, Monday -- Sea Day. “I didn’t drink enough water yesterday” is a euphemism for “I drank too much wine yesterday.”
We slept late and eventually wandered to the Mix for snacks. A note here – I’m never sure if people know about this wonderful feature. We first saw the Mix on the Rotterdam on the first cruise that they debuted it after a drydock. It wasn’t up and running the first few days (but neither was anything else) and since then, whenever we order munchies on any ship with a Mix, people all around us seem quite shocked. Sometimes even the bartender seems unfamiliar with the service. The menu is small but you can order sliders, chicken wings and a handful of other small plates, free of charge, and have them served, hot, at the bar or lounge. It’s a wonderful alternative to braving the Lido midday but we’ve never seen anyone take advantage of this option until we do.
After snacks we had our first drink of the day at the Crows. And then it was time for wine tasting. The first tasting of the cruise was in the Lower Dining Room and it was packed.
Cellar Master Ferdinand showed us how to open a champagne bottle with a spatula (since he can’t pack his sword post 9/11.) He also demonstrated how to competently open a screw top bottle by rolling it from the inside of the elbow to the wrist. Unfortunately, the Evil Twin tried this one night when I was in the shower and unable to stop her. She’s bruised from shoulder to fingertips. Apparently, she later confessed, the bottle then bounced off the balcony doors, before landing, still quite sealed, on the carpet. In alcohol’s defense, we’ve done some pretty stupid things when sober too.
Day 8, Tuesday -- Ketchikan. Living in Los Angeles where it never rains, we’re not at all used to being outdoors and wet at the same time. After a brief stop at the visitors’ center, we stood in line for the free sightseeing bus for about 20 minutes only to find the bus to be standing room only. It was pouring, and I, for one, wasn’t sure why I was fully dressed in the shower and so we decided to move on. We desperately needed coffee, wine, food, wifi or some combination thereof.
A few blocks later, still a bit confused as to the proper way to wear coats and scarves and wield umbrellas without doing bodily harm to ourselves or others, we passed a group of well-caffeinated young men on a street corner selling a sightseeing tour. Not being fully awake, the instincts said “no” and “we’ll come back later” but after dithering for longer than it takes most people to decide on a life partner, we finally said “yes” just so we could stop trying to converse with people at this hour.
A few minutes later, for $30 apiece, we were on a cute little trolley waiting for more passengers to take the bait. None did and so we had the tour to ourselves. The guide was adorable. He’d lived there his whole young life and put his heart and soul into showing his town off in the best light. He admitted he might be getting some of the facts wrong but took great pride in showing us the best side of Ketchikan. He didn’t manage to find us bears or moose but we saw more eagles than I’ve ever seen before in my life.
I deduced that math wasn’t his strong point when he told us that, in some ancient calamity, “two thirds of the population was decimated” and later that a three bedroom house costs “two quarters of a million dollars.” But, it was a wonderful way to see the highlights and well worth the price, however the math was done.
We had the trolley drop us off at Creek Street which is when it really started pouring and as we were moving through a crowded shopping area we heard our names squealed at high volume and turned to see Adi, our Dining Room Waiter, rushing out of a doorway to shower us with hugs and kisses. I was amazed he could even recognize us as we were bundled up like… well, I don’t know what we looked like, but I’m sure it was like something I’d draw with my left hand and I just hope it doesn’t end up on YouTube.
From there, we made our way back to the pier and stopped in at the Fish Pirate’s Saloon which had wifi, wine and really good homemade potato chips and French fries. We had two orders of fries. One thing that has been drummed into my head since the day I was born – there are two things my sister will not share – an umbrella and French fries.
Once back on the ship, Sis mentioned that she’d told Adi we were looking forward to seeing him for dinner. “Uh, I don’t think so.” “Aren’t we going to the dining room?” “Yes, but he’s on the Amsterdam; we’re on the Statendam. Unless you’re calling the helicopter, or we’re pulling some other Thelma and Louise-worthy stunt, we won’t be seeing him again.” But I swear I wasn’t condescending when I said it. (That’s when you talk down to someone, BTW.)
We went to Trivia and Happy Hour and Froilan asked if it we’d made it to the wine & cheese sailaway earlier. We’d passed through but it was packed so we kept moving. Upon hearing this, he went back into the kitchen area and prepared us a plate of cheeses, crackers, breads and snacks to take to our room. Which went particularly well with the bottle(s) of Chardonnay he sold us for just that purpose.
Note about Trivia: For the first time ever, the Cruise Director (they really are Camp Councilors for grown-ups, aren’t they?) offered no prizes, kept it civil, kept it short and really made it a terrific experience for all involved. Alex had great questions, which we hadn’t heard before and there was no pushing and shoving or arguing over who stole whose answers. The man knows how to keep his kids in line!
Alex never had a cheat sheet. He ran through the questions, repeating each once then asked if anyone needed another repeat before the scorecards were exchanged. The group had one chance to ask for seconds. Then he would close the floor, saying “OK, repeating 2, 8 and 12.” Once he started, there would be no more freebies.
He had memorized everything (and I mean everything). He had nothing written down and even spelled hippopotomonstrosesquipedaliophobia several times from memory. (Look it up, I’ll wait.) We still think that “fear of spelling bees” should have been an acceptable answer.
Chorus: Dinner, Casino, Crows. Goes without saying. Although we also peeked in on Damien but we did it from the Martini Bar rather than getting so close that it’s hard to leave without offending.
Day 9, Wednesday – Juneau. That morning, I, for one, was moving at the speed of dark. We missed the Lido breakfast so we made our way off the ship and limped to the Twisted Fish for wifi and a bottle of wine. I looked at the wine menu and saw: Wines by the gls or bls. I instantly thought “gallons and barrels” but Sis says they meant glasses and bottles. And I was ready to move there.
We probably spent longer there than we should have but when I’m away from wifi for any length of time, I find myself ready to fight a radioactive bear to log on to the net. I can’t help it -- I go online to check my email and 5 hours later I’m watching a video tutorial about how to talk to a giraffe.
But we tore ourselves away and caught a gondola ride up to Mt. Roberts where we found a view, a gift shop and more wine before catching a trolley tour around town. After that, we made the obligatory visit to the Red Dog Saloon where a good time was had and souvenirs purchased.
Back on ship. Repeat Chorus.
Day 10 Thursday – Skagway. OK, the ships clock had changed by one hour. My cell phone did not. So, when setting the alarm I knew I had to make a one hour adjustment to one side or the other. Apparently, this grasshopper did not choose wisely. The risk I took was a calculated one, but clearly, calculation is not my strong suit. In the real world, I set the alarm for 4:45 instead of 6:45. Since we had ordered room service the night before and drawn lots for who needed to be up and dressed, Sis, who drew the short straw, was pretty pissed at me for a good portion of the morning.
I’ve always thought that, unlike my cell phone, I’m not getting thinner and smarter. Apparently, my cell phone’s not getting any smarter either. Still, I tried to convince her that I wasn’t to blame. “It’s not MY fault that I never learned to accept responsibility. I blame the scapegoats.”
Before disembarking, we had a nice view of the rock face where cruise ship crews get to paint tributes to their ship/captain. Local legend has it that the higher up the tribute, the higher esteem the captain is held in. We’d heard that Captain Albert, of blog fame, had recently gotten an entry but we couldn’t see it from where we docked. It was probably up in the clouds somewhere.
We headed off the ship and hopped on a bus that took us well out of town. After a bunch of photo stops, we pulled into a cute little artificial town called Caribou Crossing. I mean – really artificial. It was a façade of an old style town-front with a petting zoo, ice cream parlor and gift shop. Totally silly, but the baby goats were a blast. If I’d brought a bigger purse, I’d probably have one on my lap right now.
We also passed Emerald Lake which is one of several incredible scenic views we had during the day. We then stopped at the real town of Caribou Crossing which had shortened its name to Carcross. It’s an unincorporated community in Yukon, Canada on Bennett Lake and Nares Lake and is home to the Carcross/Tagish First Nation. As of the 2011 census it had a population of 289 and I think most of them were out and about while we stopped by.
Then we took a ride on the White Horse and Yukon Railroad. One of the most acclaimed engineering wonders of the world. It was a fun day but if you do it, bring a flask – otherwise known as a Thirst Aid Kit – there are no stops that are alcohol friendly.
The train left us off downtown and we had the option of getting back onto the bus for a ride back to the ship or cruising around on our own. We opted to go it alone. Unfortunately, there was no wifi anywhere and the walk back to the ship was much longer than it looked. It had been a very long, sober day and upon returning to the ship, we hit the store of wine in the room pretty hard and the rest of the evening was a bit fuzzy.
Now, normally, on vacation, we pace ourselves, which means we start early and go till late. We know how to handle that. Today, we were sober until late. That generally means trouble. We downed one bottle in the room and headed for the Mix for Happy Hour. Occasionally, we’ll buy a bottle at one of the bars, especially if we plan to stay to finish it. Sometimes, we leave a glass or two and come back. This time, it’s entirely possible we bought a case because for the next several days, wherever we went, waiters were telling us we had a bottle behind the bar and our wine cards got no exercise. Either that was a very big bottle or we actually bought a winery.
I know dinner happened and also the Crows after. We were hanging with our A’Dam friends when a karaoke session broke out and we knew we’d have to flee the scene before doing or saying anything to get us talked about too much in the crew quarters. I drink wine because I don’t like to keep things bottled up; karaoke is dangerous territory because I’ve never faked a sarcasm in my life and I wasn’t about to start now.
We hightailed it down to the Piano Bar but made the mistake of sitting in our normally favored spot – at the Piano. Damien was again, wonderful, but we felt exposed, like we were blocking people’s view of the headliner. We eventually managed to sneak out; no we didn’t, who am I kidding? We left and it was obvious and seemingly rude but we at least did it between songs (and bought him several drinks during the trip.)
Sometime that evening, the Evil Twin bought me a scarf in one of the shops. It happened to go well with the sweater I was wearing at the time and she absolutely insisted on buying it for me. The next morning she saw it on the couch and asked where I’d gotten it. When I tried to jog her memory, she resisted with all the effort that I would expect when faced with anything having to do with jogging. For a couple of days she was terrified that she’d actually stolen it but eventually, a receipt turned up and she was able to relax knowing that the authorities weren’t waiting to arrest her at the next port. At least not for that particular infraction.
Day 11, Friday – Scenic Glacier Cruising. The Evil One was up early for some reason that probably had to do with sunrise having occurred before we actually went to bed and the continuing scarcity of blackout drapes.
She was showered, dressed and on her way to the Lido for some coffee substitute before I opened my eyes for the first time. That was good because sometimes I wrestle with my demons; sometimes we just snuggle. This was a morning for snuggling so I settled in for a little more sleep.
By the time I was up and ready to face the day, we were sure it was too late to grab a spot in the Crows. This would be a full day of narration from the bridge and quiet contemplation of the beauty of nature. I was sure everyone on board would be glued to the windows in the best spot of all but we wandered through just to see and were surprised that there was plenty of room. Either that or Froi had saved our seats for us.
We had the best seats in the house for the view of the Margerie Glacier and I couldn’t believe how close we got to it. At times, from our seats at the bar, we couldn’t even glimpse the water line and saw only a wall of white and blue ice stretching the full length of the windows. We stayed there an hour or more and were rewarded with many instances of calving which I thought meant the glacier was having a cow but was actually much more impressive than anything that that concept brings to mind.
We eventually moved onto the Mix and continued drinking on the “one” bottle of wine the staff there seemed to believe we had on hold. I still think we bought a winery.
Then it was off to the Johns Hopkins Glacier which was almost more beautiful, if that’s possible.
We dressed for dinner and had a lovely time. Once again, we fled the Crows when karaoke threatened to break out. I’d rather step on a Lego and have even contemplated faking my own death to avoid another mangled version of We Are the Champions. Seriously, of all the martial arts, karaoke inflicts the most pain.
We ended up at the Martini Bar where we could hear Damien and sing along but not feel so awkward about leaving when we were ready to do that.
And here’s where we ran into a problem. We tried to activate the last beverage card of the trip but there was clearly a communication problem with the bartender. He kept trying to tell to tell us we should just charge to our room as it was so late in the cruise. We tried to explain that we’d already purchased the card so we didn’t want to incur new charges, just to activate the card we already owned. Eventually, it all went pear-shaped and he, apparently, sold us a new bev card, which was the last thing we needed. At the end of it all, it seemed like we now had two non-active wine cards and were charging drinks to the room. Not exactly the plan. We own a winery after all!
Day 12, Saturday – At Sea. We slept in a bit on our last full day onboard and decided it was the perfect time to do laundry. Only it soon became apparent that everyone else on the ship had the same idea. It was also clear to see that the competitive spirit missing from Trivia had relocated to the laundry room. We certainly weren’t going to arm wrestle anyone for access to a washing machine if there wasn’t even a golf towel in the offing and so gave up on that idea and had a drink in the Crow’s so we could practice our skills before wine tasting.
We also paid a visit to the Front Desk to sort out the wine cards. We now had a pre-purchased card that no one seemed willing to activate and a shiny new one that we never intended to buy. After a bit of back and forth which involved swiping the two cards upwards of a dozen times each, we went away with instructions to use one but not the other (which was which we never figured out). We were very confused and vowed to come back and try again later.
The second wine tasting of the trip was held in the Pinnacle and played to a much smaller group than had been in attendance in the dining room. The food pairings were decidedly more exotic, with mushrooms, salmon, foie gras, shrimp, duck breast, strawberry, lemon and chocolate. The Evil One would have had nothing at all to snack on were it not for the bags of popcorn at each setting, to be tasted with the California Chardonnay.
Ferdinand clearly loves what he does (why wouldn’t he?) and did a marvelous job of walking us through the offerings and even demonstrated how to open a bottle of champagne using only a champagne glass. It was a great tasting and as some people had reserved but not shown up, there were extra pours and extra nibbles for the rest of us.
Once back in the room, we actually managed to get that load of laundry done and started packing. We cleaned up, dressed for dinner and left gifts for our marvelous cabin stews before heading off to the MDR for the final dinner of the cruise.
Dinner was wonderful, as usual and the crew did their “end of cruise” parade around the room which is always fun. We thanked, tipped and hugged our new friends and set off for our last night on board.
As always, the last night seems to bring out people we’ve never seen before. We saw folks at the elevators arguing over whether the Crow’s Nest was up or down (from the fifth floor); people asking just how Happy Hour worked; wondering aloud where the front desk was, etc. Did they spend the whole of the last seven days in their room? We always wonder and it’s always a struggle not to mess with them a bit. I know the voices in my head aren’t real but sometimes they have some really good ideas.
We made it to the Crows for a final goodbye to many of our new friends and went to bed.
Day 13, Sunday – Seward. We got up; we got out. We were hurried on to a bus headed for Anchorage and did our best to keep our eyes open as the scenery was gorgeous but we were fairly well exhausted. Once the bus deposited us at the Visitors’ Center in Anchorage, we checked our carry-ons and headed out.
As soon as we were on the ground, the Twin turned to me and said, “if we run into Adi, don’t let me tell him I’ll see him tonight.” Not likely!
One of our friends from the Passenger Act Gang told us about Humpy’s. A fun bar/restaurant around the corner from absolutely everything in Anchorage and so we set off to seek it out. Seeing that the temperature was expected at around 65 degrees, I had left the ship in a light sweater and floor length maxi skirt that I was sure would be just fine. Once in town and walking around I realized that the temperature was not a terrible problem, as long as I could get indoors fairly soon, but my skirt was no match for the gale force winds. Since we couldn’t check into the hotel for several hours, we hightailed it to Humpy’s and I envisioned using a binder clip to turn my long skirt into a bohemian-type diaper on the way back to the hotel.
Humpy’s was fun but since we were hoping to settle in and regain the feeling in our frozen extremities, we were unhappy to relax into our booth and realize that every door and window in the place was wide open. Apparently, if we wanted to warm up, the only way to do it was through the consumption of alcohol. ‘K then.
After a drink or three, we set off to return to the Visitors’ Center, retrieve our luggage and make our way to the hotel. As we were crossing a small plaza, there was that that same, unmistakable shriek and a moment later we had armfuls of a gushing Adi, who frankly at this point should have been afraid we were stalking him. I mean really, to run into him twice after leaving his ship? We were seriously considering filling out adoption paperwork and bringing him home.
Once we’d grabbed our luggage and gotten to the hotel, we had another drama to deal with. We’d booked the Westmark which we knew was a hotel used by HAL but we booked it direct through its website. We’d gotten there before the busload of HAL folks and thought we might get a better room for having booked separately.
The agent behind the desk told us our room was ready but the manager, looking over his shoulder said it wasn’t. We hoped this meant we’d be getting an upgrade as Her Evilness also dropped the fact that she’d stayed there once before. We were sent off to their bar where we bought a bottle and waited for the room we now expected to be wonderful.
Not to be. Our room was on the second floor and we had to pass by the employee break room – separated from the hallway by something that looked suspiciously like a shower curtain -- several open storage closets and the bank of snack machines. The non-smoking balcony was ankle deep in cigarette butts and by the time we saw the evidence stating that the hotel was owned by HAL, the HAL buses were lined up beneath our window, spewing fumes into our room. Perhaps we’d have done better to book with HAL rather than going it on our own.
Once we checked in and changed, we went out and bought a one-hour trolley tour from a smiling tour guide named Cyrus that hit the highlights very well. (Later that night, we turned on the local news channel and saw Cyrus being interviewed about the first cruise ships of the season to hit the city.)
After the tour we stopped at the Snow Goose Restaurant and Sleeping Lady Brewing Company for some fresh pretzel sticks and iced tea (Relax, I just wanted to see if anyone was still reading!)
When we hit a liquor store on the way back to the hotel I was quite shocked to be asked for my ID. Hell, I still have browser tabs open from the Mondale campaign so it’s been quite a long time since my ID has been required. Imagine my surprise when they then carded the Evil Twin as well. Apparently, if two people enter a store together to purchase alcohol, they both have to be ID’d. I guess if you have a toddler, you need to tie ‘em up outside before entering the store.
We had planned to rally and find a nice place for dinner but after removing shoes and getting comfortable, it was quite apparent that we’d not be doing anything nearly that ambitious. Being so close to the snack machines was starting to look like a good thing after all. We turned a pocket full of singles into a stash of sugary and salty munchies and settled in to indulge in some innocent perusing of Cumberbatch pics on our various devices before making the long journey home in the morning.
All in all, a very successful vacation. There had been no gravity storms -- meaning -- no one fell down. Our tiaras still fit. I’m harder to kidnap than ever before. We have Pocky Sticks and I’m sure we’ll run into Adi sometime in the next couple of days. I think we’ll take him someplace with a bouncy castle.