I was raised in the deep woods of northern British Columbia. Well, OK, maybe not so far north, or so deep, but there were a lot of trees around our house in Vancouver. Now, I normally refrain from mentioning my origins as there is something about the name “British Columbia” that conjures up images of a small country carved out the jungles of South America with a tattered Union Jack fluttering from a dead banana tree. Furthermore, I am then often complimented on my aptness in correctly conjugating the verb “to be” and my ability to hold a wine glass correctly; whereupon I am forced to report that British Columbia is actually a province in Canada – the first one on the left. This in turn usually brings on an embarrassing defensive posture: “No, I don’t personally know Anne Murray” and, “Yes, I know we should have done more to keep Justin Bieber from going to America!”
I mention my background here only to highlight the fact that I was raised in a very conservative Canadian environment where the entire family gathered around our single black and white television set on Saturday night to watch “Hockey Night in Canada!”; where we would never, ever think of listening to anything by Nine Inch Nails (or God forbid, Sid Vicious and the Sex Pistols); and where we would never contemplate doing anything against the law, as we all knew without a doubt that the Mounties always got their man – as exemplified every week in episodes of Sergeant Preston and Dudley Do-Right.
With such an upbringing, you can imagine, then, my consternation as I was coming home from work one evening several weeks ago when I was, for no apparent reason, pulled over by a uniformed representative of the Fulton County Sheriff's department.
Officer: “Do you know why I pulled you over?”
SailorJack: “Because I’m Canadian?”
Officer: "I pulled you over because you have no taillights.”
SailorJack: "What! I assure you officer, they were back there when I left for work this morning.”
Well, to make a long story short and despite my protestations that it wasn’t that dark out yet, I received a ticket with a court appearance date that was the exact same date that our upcoming cruise was to dock in Nagasaki. Concerned that I could possibly miss our cruise, I called the court clerk to try and change the date, but was informed that the ticket was only a warning ticket and that all I had to do was stop by the court house any day prior to the court date with proof that the taillights had been repaired. Thirty-seven dollars later and a trip to the court house in Atlanta and the way was cleared for our 16 day immersion cruise on Celebrity’s Millennium.
Clearing up my inadvertent violation of the American tail light law certainly set the stage for a great cruise and a terrific beginning for 2017. However, speaking of 2017, I would be remiss if I did not also point out that 2017 is Canada’s 150th birthday, which, oddly, is also the same number of calories in a bottle of Moosehead’s Lager beer – a startling coincidence and an omen that portends well for our upcoming cruise. Not only that, but the 6 ports of call on the cruise are exactly the same as the number of bottles of Moosehead’s Lager beer found in a six-pack! On top of that, consider this: There are 19 letters in “Moosehead’s Lager Beer” and exactly 19 letters in “Celebrity Millennium!” Coincidence? I think not! Still not convinced? Our street address has a 19 in it! While the mystical intricacies of numerology are not my strong suit, I can’t help but feel that the convergence of of so many interrelated numbers is a positive and auspicious sign that we are in for an amazing cruise.
ButI digress.
As aforementioned, we are booked on the Millennium for a sixteen day cruise through the Orient - visiting ports in China, Hong Kong, Japan, Vietnam, and the Philippines. Not only that, but the cruise is billed as an “Immersion Cruise” and, while that may make sense to others, it was a brand new concept to me. My first thought was that it was called that because of the free Ultimate Drink Package that was offered for the sailing. The dictionary defines immersion as “complete submersion in a liquid”, which pretty much nailed my upcoming plans with 16 days of free beer on the ship.
Atlanta
We have arrived at Atlanta’s Hartsfield Airport two hours early for our international flight to Shanghai. We did curbside check-in for our bags, had TSA pre-check , breezed through security, and arrived at our gate with an hour to spare before boarding. So far our trip to Shanghai was going off without a hitch!
Without a hitch that is until we were informed that our flight to San Francisco was delayed and that we would not make our connection to Tokyo and then on to Shanghai where we were to catch the ship.
SailorJack: “Is this because I’m Canadian?”
GateAgent: “Of course not, our computers went down and we have a systems-wide delay.”
SailorJack: “Does this mean I am going to miss our sailing date in Shanghai?”
GateAgent: “I am going to see if I can reroute you.”
SailorJack(turning to SailorJill): "This is outrageous! We have been waiting for this cruise for nearly a year. We booked our trip a day early to ensure that we arrived in time and now we may miss the ship due to no fault of our own. I am going to write an extremely fiery letter to United!”
GateAgent: “OK, here we are sir. I have rerouted you and you are now confirmed on an afternoon direct flight from San Francisco to Shanghai. Not only will you not have to change planes in Tokyo, you will actually arrive in Shanghai 4 hours earlier than your original flight. And you will be flying on our brand new Boeing 787 Dreamliner which has a state of the art entertainment system, a whisper quiet cabin, and luxurious amenities. I have also upgraded you to EconomyPlus so that you will have extra leg room while enjoying the complimentary beer on your flight.
SailorJill: “Jack, will you be needing any help with that fiery complaint letter?”
Day 2 – At Sea - East China Sea
We awoke today to cloudless skies and cool temperatures as our ship sailed east by northeast through the East China Sea (now how exotic does that sound!) towards our first port of call - Nagasaki, Japan. Arising a little before SailorJill, I went up to the Oceanview Café while Jill completed some last minute morning ministrations. As I nursed my coffee and watched the sun rise over the eastern horizon I was entertained by a server named Delat, who had a most infectious personality. As he pushed his cart among the tables he reminded me of Molly Malone – only instead of crying out “cockles and muscles, alive, alive oh, he would shout out “coffee, duty free coffee”, or “just like Starbucks, only no star”, and “best coffee! Left over from last night!”
Then, just when I was beginning to get a little concerned about SailorJill, Delat came over to the table:
Delat: "You have been here for nearly an hour. Are you traveling alone on this very romantic cruise?”
SailorJack: "I am pretty sure I had a wife with me when I boarded yesterday, but…”
Delat spotted her first, but how he knew she was with me I haven’t a clue, but he waved a white napkin in the air and called out “here he is!”
After breakfast we bid adieu to Delat and went up on deck and curled up in a couple of inviting lounges and enjoyed the morning with a steaming mug of hot tea and a good book. Despite what SailorJill may say later, “steaming mug of tea” is NOT my code for “a cold bottle of beer!” After a couple of hours of reading and people watching, it was time to get ready for our Meet and Greet. Back in our stateroom, SailorJill changed into a very diaphanous white Kimono with a thigh high slit and secured with a long pale pink Obi. The Kimono was complemented by silky, sheer white thigh high stockings and high heeled wooden sandals, and her jet black hair was piled high in an updo and pinned together with two long and very ornate ivory stick pins. Oops, sorry, that is actually by newest screen saver! Sorry about that. Jill is actually wearing sandals, shorts, and her “Men are Idiots and My Husband is Their Leader” T-shirt – a gift from her mother on the occasion of our fifth wedding anniversary. I put on my khaki shorts, T-shirt, and Topsiders and we went up to meet our traveling companions.
The ship’s officer presiding over our roll call welcomed us aboard and mentioned that this was a true immersion cruise as we would be visiting 5 Asian countries and were sailing with guests from 45 different countries. Technically, it could be as much as 46 different countries as I wasn’t sure if he was including the two people from Alabama in that count.
One of the gentlemen I met at our Meet and Greet was a very impressively dressed British Gentleman – replete with a Tweed Jacket, a well tailored waistcoat, high-waisted pants, and immaculately shined Oxford Brogues. As he had mentioned that he was from the city of Bristol, and as I was looking to establish some common ground, I mentioned that I had recently seen a World War II era Bristol Blenheim bomber at our air museum in Canada - that I assumed was made in his home town of Bristol.
Drawing himself up to his full six foot, two inch stature, he responded quite vociferously: “Sir, it is not the Bristol BlenHEIM, it is the Bristol BlenEM!” (I could almost hear him muttering, “My God, they can’t even speak the Queen’s own English in the Colonies!”) Suitably admonished, I refrained from mentioning that I had also seen a British Spitfire, fearing that the correct pronunciation might actually be SpitFAR. The rest of our conversation did not go nearly as smoothly. Note: In speaking with people from England it is probably best not to bring up the subject of Brexit. Unless, of course, you are prepared to listen to a 15 minute discourse regarding the insouciance of English millennials. His parting comment was -“England did not need independence from the EU! Independence is what other countries got from us!” It was at this point that I figured he and I would probably not be exchanging Christmas Cards.
For our “immersion” dinner tonight, in lieu of silverware, I was presented with two little wooden sticks. I was aware that these were something called “Chop Sticks” but had previously thought, erroneously as it turned out, that such items were quaint historical artifacts that had been replaced by forks and spoons shortly after Marco Polo’s visit to the Orient. But no, there they were -staring up at me like two prostrate alien life forms. As I regarded my place setting I also noticed that on the table setting there were no Salad Chop Sticks – you are apparently required to use the same size chop sticks for each course. To be perfectly honest with you, I hadn’t even started eating yet and was already dreading the Soup Course.
Now, living in Southern Georgia as I do, the closest I have ever come to eating something with two linear objects was using my thumb and forefinger to pick up a leg of southern fried chicken. But, always willing to try something new, I took the two little sticks in hand and set about to eat dinner. After several frustrating minutes trying to pick up rice and little pieces of Mongolian beef with the chop sticks, I concluded that “chop sticks” is actually Chinese for “Jenny Craig” because I was certainly going to lose weight at the rate I was going - as the energy output to caloric intake ratio was going entirely in the wrong direction. And speaking of Mongolian beef, I wasn’t even sure that Mongols had cows in the Gobi desert –but I guess that sounded a lot better than Mongolian Yak.
Changing course, I decided that I could use the pointed end of the stick to simply spear the beef. But, using chop sticks as little spears, was, as I was quickly informed by our Japanese table mates, an almost sacrilegious no-no. There is, I was sternly admonished, actually a Japanese word for spearing your food. It is (and I swear I am not making this up) “sashi-bashi” - which loosely translates as “uncoordinated idiot.” Now sashi-bashi should not be confused with another chop stick no-no – hiro bashi. Hiro bashi refers to the prohibited act of passing something from your chop sticks to someone else’s chop sticks. This act, fortunately, was not going to be a problem for me as I could not pick up anything in the firstplace – let alone balance it long enough to pass it over to Jill. Obviously, under the watchful eyes of our dinner companions, I was not going to get a taste of SailorJill’s selection – which was something called General Tao’s Chicken. Now, quite frankly, I have no idea who General Tao was, but I am guessing he is the Chinese version of Colonel Sanders, although I do not recall seeing any General Tao’s Chicken stores when touring Shanghai.
Surrendering to a growing desire to actually eat something I was about to ask the waiter if he had a fork when I got the “don’t you dare embarrass me” look from SailorJill. Oh, well, I figured I could eat when we got to Japan.
Day 3 – Nagasaki, Japan
We have arrived in Nagasaki, a bustling city of nearly half a million people on the Japanese island of Kyushu. Located on the southern tip of that island, it was, back in the day, a small fishing village of little importance apparently called Wohoushima; but that all changed when Portuguese explorer Fernao Mendes Pinto made his historic landing in Japan here in 1543. From there it grew to became a bustling trading port, attained free port status in 1859 and began a rapid modernization effort starting in 1868. In anticipation of officially being proclaimed a city, we are told that the city fathers wanted to rename the town to incorporate references to its growing contributions to the Japanese economy. Those leading contributions included the tanning of hides of little indigenous animals for faux leather furniture and the fermentation and production of quality rice wine. So it was that on April 1, 1889, the village of Wohoushima, incorporating its two leading industries, was renamed Nagasaki and was officially proclaimed a city. It is now the largest city on Kyushu and the capital of Nagasaki Prefecture.
I would be remiss if I did not include another important date in Nagasaki’s history – October 29, 1613 - the date Captain John Saris on the British ship Clove, brought the first beer to Japan. The arrival was certainly momentous, but I fear that history has largely overlooked and under reported the extraordinary leadership abilities demonstrated by Captain Saris on that momentous sailing. The trip from London to Nagasaki covered over 16,000 nautical miles and took nearly 6 months to complete – yet when he arrived in Nagasaki THERE WAS STILL BEER ON THE SHIP!
One of our stops in Nagasaki was the Glover Gardens which were part of the Glover Mansion and is the reputed setting for the Opera, Madame Butterfly. Now, I will be the first to admit that I am not all that knowledgeable about Opera – OK, I know nothing about Opera. I thought the Three Penny Opera was about three girls named Penny, then found out it wasn’t even an opera. I should have realized that when I heard that Mack the Knife was one of the big songs in Three Penny! But I digress yet again. As best as I could understand, Madame Butterfly was written by an Italian (Puccini), set in Japan (Nagasaki), and featured a despicable American (Lieutenant Pinkerton) - in other words a typical international operatic mess.While the name suggests a light and fun opera, it actually features lust, seduction, teenage pregnancy, abandonment, guilt and violent death – sort of a Japanese version of Law and Order: SpecialVictims Unit, only with music and big hair.
SailorJill, who is into alternative music, was thrilled with this stop – as was I when I found that the gift shop sold beer! While SailorJill wandered through the gardens, I enjoyed a nice chair and raised a glass to my newest hero – Captain Saris.
Of course the date we all associate with Nagasaki is August 9, 1945 –the day the second atomic bomb was deployed in World War II.
We first visited the Nagasaki Peace Park which is located near the hypocenter of the explosion. One enters the Peace Park past a beautiful fountain that was constructed as a prayer to the many victims of the bombing who died searching for water to ease the pain of their badly burned bodies. At the far end of the park is the 30 foot tall Peace Statue – erected to warn of the danger of nuclear weapons and the need for eternal peace. Between these two points are monuments erected by nations from around the world.
At one of the monuments an elderly man had a pail of water and was watering two plants. He invited Jill (as well as other visitors) to dip a ladle of water from the pail and sprinkle it on one of the plants. It was a moving moment as the man then showed Jill a picture of himself (as a young child) standing amongst the devastated ruins of Nagasaki following the bombing. As he placed his arm around Jill and posed for a picture it did more than anything else to personalize to us the events of that day in 1945.
Around the corner from the Peace Park is a monument erected at the hypocenter or “ground zero” of the bomb’s detonation. The bomb actually detonated at an altitude of 1,650 feet and the monument is located directly below that point. To stand at the exact point where the bomb exploded was chilling.
Our last visit was to the Nagasaki Atomic Bomb Museum. The museum was designed to show what effect the bomb had on Nagasaki – showing the city before the bombing, the reconstruction, and the lasting effects of the atomic bomb. It was, to say the least, a very sobering visit.
I should mention that getting around Nagasaki is easy and inexpensive. An all day pass on the electric train is less than five dollars. The train itself is a marvel and was designed by famed Japanese designer Masimoto Packeminsan – and was based upon his earlier successful design of the original sardine can. To ensure that the train accommodates as many passengers as possible the train employs (and I swear I am not making this up) what are called “passenger arrangement staff”, but are actually known as “pushers.” Just when you think that there is absolutely, positively no more room in the train car, the passenger arrangement staff starts pushing more people into the car and yelling at you through the windows to move closer together. So efficient are they at their job that on several occasions they were successful in getting more people into the train car than can be found in many small American villages.
One of the odd things I was struck with was the number of people wearing surgical masks over their faces. I had originally thought that it was health related, but I was told that the mask actually was a way to ensure solitude on a crowded train. It is hard to start a conversation with someone when they had a mask over their mouth and nose and earbuds in their ears. It was, I was assured, nothing personal. I almost bought into that, but as I started to board the train I saw that those not wearing masks were suddenly grabbing and donning their masks. By the time I had reached the top step of the train car, sixty or seventy pairs of wide eyes were staring at me over sterile surgical masks.
Day 4 – At Sea
Today I discovered Cafe al Bacio (named after Bacios – the Roman Goddess of Desire and Temptation. The glass-encased shelves, holding an ever changing selection of dazzling confections, was simply impossible to ignore – especially since I had to pass by every time I came and went from my stateroom!
It became my first stop every morning after breakfast. My typical après breakfast order was a diet Coke, an apple turnover and two (or three) berliners. While the turnovers may be the best I have ever eaten, the berliners were simply sinfully good! And while John F Kennedy’s alleged malaprop, “Ich bin ein berliner” has been the subject of debate, in my case there is a distinct possibility of it actually becoming fact!
Then, at noon, the morning confections were replaced with such afternoon delights as strawberry cheesecake, chocolate mocha torts, coconut cake, and a vast assortment of cookies and tartlets. Of course, one had to take an afternoon break and where better to take it than at Café al Bacio where one could enjoy a selection of those wonderful delights – washed down, of course, with a French Kiss (Courvoisier,Grand Marnier, Espresso and Whipped Cream.)
Day 5 – Keelung, Taiwan (Day 1)
Today we have decided that instead of exploring Keelung, we would take the train to Taipei, the capitol city of Taiwan. The train station is actually visible from the ship and was an easy 10 minute walk from the pier. We caught the train and tried to quickly take a seat and blend in. But blending in proved problematic as we were the only two people on the train not staring into a cellphone. Not a book insight. Not a newspaper in sight. Not a single conversation. I could have stood up and done the Hokey Pokey and no one would have noticed! It was the quietest 45 minute train ride I have ever taken.
Arriving in Taipei we spent the morning visiting the National Palace Museum and and in exploring the city. As we strolled through the streets of Taipei, and as the lunch hour approached, I found myself inexorably drawn to a restaurant located in the middle of the next block. As we passed several interesting looking dining establishments on the way, SailorJill kept questioning me as to why I was favoring a restaurant some distance away. Her questions stopped with a knowing sigh when she spotted the name over the door - the Tai -Wan-On - and the neon sign in the window signifying that this establishment served Tsingtao beer.
TheTai-Wan-On, surprisingly, turned out to be an oriental buffet with a very unique twist. As we took our seats, a waiter approached us and put a clock on the table. The restaurant, he explained, was an all you can eat buffet – FOR 50 MINUTES! After taking our drink orders he used a small silver key to set the clock for 50 minutes, pushed a little red button on the top of the clock and left to get our drink order. There was a red dome-like light on the top of the clock that I assumed would start flashing after the 50 minute time limit was reached; and I couldn’t help but wonder if there might also be some sort of wailing siren secreted deep within the hidden gears and cogs of the clockworks.
Of course by the time I took this all in the clock had ticked down to 48 minutes, so hurriedly we made our dash to the buffet. Whether by design or not, our table was like a mile and a half from the buffet line, so by the time we got there, waited in line, walked down the buffet line, filled our plates and got back to our table the clock had ticked down to 41 minutes. Have you ever tried using chop sticks to pick up a slippery dumpling when the doomsday clock next you is clicking a cadence that basically says, “You're running out of time!, You're running out of time!”
Even under the best of times, as I have previously enumerated, I am but a neophyte when it comes to using chop sticks, but under the pressure of Satan’s Timepiece I became, if possible, even more inept at manipulating them. I finally managed to pick up a shrimp ball with mushroom cap when the mushroom cap fell with a splash back into the little saucer of garlic hoisin sauce. “Don’t worry,” admonished SailorJill, “it will come out in the wash.” It was now becoming quite apparent that I was getting more food on me than in me. It was about then that I noticed that the cadence on the clock (was the ticking getting louder?) seemed to change to a more strident “You aren’t going to make it! You aren’t going to make it!”
Dessert, which had become but a distant fading dream was now replaced with the very real possibility that I was actually going to leave an all you can eat buffet completely hungry! Attacking my plate with a renewed sense of desperation I picked up something called ‘Siu Mai” only to see it slip off my chop sticks, carom off my plate, roll across the table and come to rest against SailorJill’s plate – leaving behind an incriminating trail of brown garlic sauce.
Sensing my distress, SailorJill opined, “Jack, take a deep breath and take a drink of water.” Fine words, but I didn’t have time to reach over, grab the glass, take a drink, and return the glass to the table. The clock was down to six minutes!
I desperately wanted to eat SOMETHING and the “Gin Do with Black Bean Filling” was the closest thing on my plate. As I picked it up I apparently squeezed it with too much pressure as the Gin Do flew off from between the chop sticks and (god help me) actually landed in my water glass! Well, it wasn’t Gin and Tonic, but Gin and Water would have to do – but at least I was going to get something to eat and drink! But as I was about to pick up the glass, our waiter came over, discretely picked up the glass, took out his little silver key, and, demonstrating one of the greatest humanitarian gestures I have ever personally witnessed, reset our clock to 80 minutes! I didn't know whether to be embarrassed or thankful, but at least I now had a shot at not leaving hungry!
Day 5 (Continued) – Keelung, Taiwan
Before I proceed further I must make note of the fact that while attending University I did not major in Religious Studies, but did take an introductory course in Comparative Religions. It was here that I learned of the three most dreaded temptations cast upon Mankind by the malevolent and willful Forces of Evil; temptations that were designed to lure the innocent of heart into a self-destructive downward spiral of degradation and doom. The Three Temptations of Trepidation are:
1.The Seduction of Man in the Garden of Eden – whereby the serpent tempted Adam and Eve into eating of the forbidden fruit – which resulted in Man being cast out of Paradise and into a life of drudgery, peril, and Disco music.
2. Sirens of Sirenum – Beautiful temptresses whose mesmerizing and haunting melodies seduced multitudes of sailors and lured them and their ships onto the rocks of Sirenum and to their own ultimate destruction. (Note: While ancient writings do not actually indicate which specific songs the Sirens sang, there has been some scientific speculation that it may have been “Knock, Knock, Knock on Wood” - as can be witnessed here.
3. The Ultimate Drink Package – a devilish all you can drink option that invariably leads one into an uncontrollable urge “to get one’s money’s worth” by indulging in a cocktail or two before heading to the dining room, an aperitif waiting for the meal to arrive, a glass or two of wine with the meal, and a liquor after the meal – and that is just breakfast!
Now, while many believe that a person’s metal is best measured by how able he can resist temptation, I have found that the easiest and best way to rid myself of temptation is to simply give into it. It is for this reason that I was originally somewhat disconcerted to learn that our 16 day cruise included the Ultimate Drink Package. I had a terrible premonition that “99 Bottles of Beer on the Wall” had the potential of being more than just a song from my days at summer camp. Not only that, but after a day of unlimited Mai Tais around the pool I would find that an evening of trying to dance the Rumba with SailorJill would wind up being a lot more “rum” than “ba.”
Despite that terrible temptation, I thought that I was actually being pretty good up until now. However, upon our return from Taipei I found attached to our door two complimentary tickets for a day long tour for our next port of call – Kaoshiung, Taiwan. Thinking that there had been some type of mistake, I went down to the excursion desk but was assured that the tickets were, indeed, for myself and SailorJill. He could not explain how we had come to be the recipient of such largess, but I initially suspected that somewhere deep within the bowels of the ship, a harried accountant, hunched over a gray metal desk and wearing a worn green visor, had performed a cost/benefit analysis and come to the conclusion that it would cost the ship less to give me two free tickets to get me off the ship for 8 hours rather than have me sitting around the pool taking advantage of “all the beer he can drink” for those same 8 hours.
Either that, or they may have been, as SailorJill opined, the “surprise gift” at which our travel agent had hinted.
Day 6 – Keelung, Taiwan (Day 2)
Today we enjoyed a tour of Keelung, the Bisha Fish Port, the amazing Yehliu Geopark, and the picturesque north coast of Taiwan. But high on SailorJill’s list was finding a shop that sold Tiger Bahm. One of our dinner companions last night had told Jill about this amazing product that eased pain, restored hair, cured acne, and did just about everything else.
Walking into a Chinese apothecary in one of the villages on our tour, I approached the proprietor:
SailorJack: “Do you have any Tiger Bahm?”
Store Owner: “What you want?”
SailorJack (speaking more slowly): “I am looking for Tiger Bahm.”
Store Owner: “I no sell Tiger parts – illegal!”
SailorJack: “Its not a part – its a bahm, its a bahm.”
StoreOwner ( wide-eyed and reaching for cellphone); “YOU GO NOW! YOU GO NOW!”
Day 9 – Manila, Philippines (Day 1)
We have arrived in the Republic of the Philippines, a Southeast Asia nation comprised of 7,641 islands, most of which we will be unable to visit on this cruise. The Philippines are rich in both culture and history and we are looking forward to spending two days here. Our stop here is Manila, located on the largest island – Luzon. High on our agenda for Manila is a visit to the Intramuros– the old colonial section of Manila - home to some excellent museums and 19th Century architecture. But before we visit the museums, I have one word for you, “Shoes.” OK, maybe more accurately, three words,“Imelda Marcos’s shoes” – of which she is reported to have had a record number of 3,000 pairs – a record our daughter, Alexis (we named her that because if we hadn’t had her we could be driving one) appears to be trying to break! Many of Imelda’s shoes are now in the Marikina Shoe Museum - after having been liberated from her closet when Imelda was forced to temporarily flee the Philippines in 1986 with nothing but a single pair of espadrilles.
Although technically not a museum, another anticipated stop here is the Araneta Coliseum – the venue for what is reputed to be the best boxing match in history – the 1975 “Thrilla in Manila” bout between Muhammad Ali and Joe Frazier.
Day 10 – Manila, Philippines (Day 2)
Today we took a tour to Subic Bay – which, until 1992, was a major US naval shipyard. One of the more interesting stops on the tour was at the Jungle Environment Survival Training (JEST) camp - which was conducted by members of the Aetas – indigenous people of the Philippines. Here we learned how to survive on bamboo! In one demonstration, an Aeta scalloped a large piece of bamboo, filled the hole with fine bamboo shavings and then vigorously rubbed another piece of bamboo along the scalloped edges until the bamboo shavings began to glow and to eventually burst into a small flame. Upon this accomplishment, the Aeta demonstrator, his face drenched with sweat, gave a shout of joy. (I can only imagine his shout of joy when I show him my book of matches from our little first aid kit!)
Our demonstrator then asked for a volunteer from the audience to come up and help with a demonstration on using a machete to make bamboo utensils. As I tried to raise my hand, SailorJill grasped it and whispered through clenched teeth, “Jack, we agreed you would never touch a machete again!” She was referring, of course, to an unfortunate incident involving a machete, kudzu, and a $150 electricians bill.
We had just purchased our new home in Atlanta, which had a mountain of kudzu climbing over trees and vegetation in the back yard. Picking up a new machete (Dick’s Sporting Goods – $11.99) I reenacted the scene from Romancing the Stone where Michael Douglas uses his trusty machete to hack a path through the jungle vegetation. Now, you need to understand that at the time I was acting unsupervised so I don’t think I was totally to blame for the unfortunate results. By the time I had finished, along with the dead kudzu vines, I had lopped off most of three prized rhododendrons, two azaleas, and the powerline to the accent lighting in our sweet gum trees. In my defense, the kudzu was covering the plants so I didn’t see the plants underneath them, and I thought the electric line going up the tree was a dead kudzu stem. Nevertheless, SailorJill donated my machete to Goodwill, and agreed with me that in the future my landscaping endeavors would be limited to a small pair of hand pruners.
But I digress. Not only did the volunteer do a decent job making a bamboo spoon and knife, but the demonstration leader then showed us how to use the machete to make bowls and kettles for cooking and eating. If we ever get lost in a bamboo jungle I now have the survival skills to provide for us – I just need to get another machete!
Day 11 – At Sea
As this was a sea day, we read through “Celebrity Today” to see what activities there were to do that we would both enjoy. The only conflict we had was at 11:00 o’clock when the choice was between Asian Beer Tasting or Complimentary Footprint Analysis. The decision was not as hard as you may have thought.
That afternoon we discovered the Martini Bar. I have oft subscribed to the adage that beer is proof that God loves us and wants us to be happy, but I am now convinced that the Martini Bar is proof that God loves us and wants us to be REALLY happy! The mixologists behind the bar were pure geniuses – they could create martinis to any taste, but the one they created for me was called the Abracadabra. It was so stunningly brilliant that I am now considering the possibility of opening up a string of Jack and Jill’s Abracadabra Martini Bars across the US when we get back home.
Day 12 – Chan May, Vietnam
We have arrived in the port city for Da Nang and Hue and have decided to take a ship’s tour to Da Nang which was a major US military base during the Vietnam war. The city has grown considerably and is now the third largest city in Vietnam. Our guide, who, at least to me, speaks with a bit of an accent, is excellent and on the drive from the pier to DaNang has given us a complete history of the area and the growth that has occurred since the war. Da Nang, we are told, has become a major tourist destination for Asians, who arrive by plane and cruise ship.You can imagine my surprise then, when in the midst of describing the growing tourist trade, she informed us that sick flies arrive everyday from South Korea! Relaying my concerns about this startling health related information to SailorJill, she took a deep sigh and said, “Jack, she didn't say sick flies, she said six flights arrive from Korea every day.”OK, I felt better.
On the way to Da Nang our guide asked if anybody had any allergies so that she should advise the restaurant where we were to have lunch. I could not believe the response! “I can’t eat shellfish,” and “my wife is allergic to pine nuts (OK, no pesto sauce!)” From the front of the bus came, “I’m lacto-intolerant,” and “I’m a vegetarian.” (I am beginning to think our Vietnamese lunch is going to consist of a nice salad.) Then from the back of the bus comes, “I’m on a low-carb diet.” What! I mean who comes on an immersion cruise to Asia and announces he can’t eat rice! Its looking like McDonald’s may be our best bet. But amazingly, the restaurant did a fantastic job. Prawns, beef, and rice were all served on the side and the meal turned out to be a true delight.
After lunch we visited several locations in Da Nang, including the old US airbase before arriving at the Linh Ung Pagoda, which is home to the tallest statue in Viet Nam – the 67 meter tall Lady Buddha. It is truly an inspiring site and dominates the skyline of Da Nang much like Christ the Redeemer dominates the skyline of Rio de Janeiro.
Our next stop was China Beach – miles of beautiful white sand beach and warm water – and not a sole using it. This was a major R&R spot for American military personnel and the title of a televisions series in the late 1980s.
Our final stop was the Marble Mountains village of Non Nuoc just south of Da Nang, where we visited a factory producing marble statuary and artwork. The “factory” consisted of one poor guy banging away on a slab of marble – with a few marble chips strategically placed around him – and about 10,000 marble statues, vases, bowls, trinkets, etc. in the store. As there was no way that one sculptor could put out that volume of work I am thinking that the artwork in the store probably came from China, but our guide assured us that the statuary was made by the numerous artisans of which the village is famous - and I have to admit, that whether the artwork was produced here or elsewhere, it was all quite impressive.
I think our guide put it quite poetically when she described the beauty of the sculptures and the process of creating them by local artisans as “joys brought from rays of heaven.” What a beautiful way to describe what we were seeing! At least I thought that was what she had said until SailorJill translated once again. “Jack, she didn’t say joys brought from rays of heaven, she said ‘boys are taught from age of eleven’” Well, that may be, but I liked my version better!
Day 13 – Ha Long Bay, Vietnam
Any men reading this review may want to skip the description of our morning shore excursion here and move on to the afternoon excursion, as you may find it as discomforting to read as it was to write. It was SailorJill’s turn today to pick our shore activity and included in our morning ashore was a, it included, ah, a….his and hers pedicure.While SailorJill suggested it with the most innocent of smiles, I am sure it was payback for making her walk up the hill to Glover Gardens in Nagasaki.
Now, being a man of modest and conservative upbringing, I will admit to not only never having had a pedicure, but I have never even seen the inside of a ladies nail salon. In fact, I try to avert my eyes when driving past one – as I also do with tattoo parlors and gentleman's clubs – OK, maybe not so much with the clubs. And, up until today, my total experience in frequenting establishments offering paid personal services was for haircuts that involved no more than a simple instruction:
Barber: “What would you like?”
SailorJack: “Trim it up.”
Barber: “OK.”
You can imagine, then, my totally confused state when, upon first entering the salon, I was handed a menu. A two page menu! Frankly, I have seen fewer choices on the menu from the Outback Steak House than were on this list. Turning to SailorJill I could see that she was enjoying this way to much. Before I could say anything, a young girl came over to escort us to a chair that looked much like a Barkalounger on steroids – only this one was also attached to what appeared to be a small bathtub filled with what appeared to be blue water.
Following SailorJill’s instructions, I removed my shoes (while under the amused gaze of the women in the six other chairs) and sat down and put my feet into the bathtub. That’s when another young lady pulled up a small stool and sat down and pointed at the menu. Apparently I was supposed to pick something from Page 1. I’ll be honest with you, some of the words on Page 1 were never meant to be uttered by a man – words like “minipedi” or “manipedi!” Once again, turning in panic to SailorJill, she said “Jack, you want the Spa Pedicure.”
SailorJack: “The Spa Pedicure, please.”
Pedicurist:“You want color?”
SailorJill (sensing my bewilderment): “Jack, she wants to know if you want your toe nails colored. If so, I might suggest maybe a bright red to match your face.”
SailorJack: “No color, thank you.”
Pedicurist: “You pick scent.”
SailorJill: “Jack, pick one of the scented gels from the other page. They use that to massage your legs after the pedicure.”
What! The last thing I wanted was to walk out of that salon with scented legs! Not only that, but the scents were distinctly not what you would call manly: Lavender and Lilac, Chamomile, Papaya and Pineapple, and something called Aloe. You would think that they would have something for men – scents like Musk, or Pilsner, or Locker Room! But no. In the end I picked Lemon with Vitamin E. I figured that if I was confronted by people on the ship I could simply explain that I had spilled lemonade on my shirt.
Speaking of people from the ship, I couldn’t believe it when, upon leaving the salon, we ran into two ladies from our trivia team:
TriviaTeam Member: “Jack, you actually had a pedicure! Well, good for you.”
SailorJack: “Yes, and now we are going back to the ship to watch Oprah and talk about our feelings.”
SailorJill (getting into the spirit of things): “Don’t forget about the white wine.”
Well, while I wouldn’t go so far as to say my hour and a half in a ladies nail salon was exactly life altering, I do have to admit that my feet are in pretty good shape – but I now find that when I sit, I am crossing my legs, tugging the hem of my shorts down, and dangling my shoes off the ends of my toes.
Day 13 (Continued)
For this afternoon we took a cruise on a junk around Ha Long Bay – a world heritage site and home to over 1,600 limestone islets and grottoes – both large and small – that rise majestically straight up out of the bay. The islets are topped with thick jungle vegetation and many of the islets are hollow and contain huge caves. In 2012 the bay was named one of the New Seven Natural Wonders of the World. With over 60 miles of coastline it is truly magnificent and is one of the reasons we signed onto this cruise. Everywhere one looks there are fantastic Kodak moments. Thank goodness for digital cameras, because if I had to use film I could not have afforded to develop the film when I got home.
And then there was Thien Cung or “Heaven Cave.” It was only discovered in 1993 and is one of the most magnificent caves we have ever seen and was a fitting last stop on our cruise around the bay.
But the real surprise on our cruise through Ha Long Bay was that SailorJill finally found Tiger Balm! The junk was selling it by the case! One of the crew members put a case on our table and it was snatched up by Jill and our traveling companions so quickly that other passengers were coming over to see what the fuss was all about. Soon, the crew was bringing out case after case and were selling so many that the price started dropping. The original quoted price was $4 a jar and the crewman initially declined an offer of $2. But by the time we were through he was selling them for 3 for $5. It was like a party! One lady came back 15 minutes later and cried out “It Works! I put some on my hand to relive my arthritis and the pain is completely gone!” Customers who had just bought three jars came back to double their order. People on the upper deck were now streaming down to get into the action. The entire ship soon reeked of the pungent odor of Tiger Balm as people put it on their hands, knees, and under their nose to clear up congestion. I've got to find a US source for this stuff!
Day 16 – Hong Kong
Our exploration of Hong Kong took us off the beaten path and lunch time found us in a section of town that I suspect was rarely visited by tourists. My suspicion was confirmed when we entered a restaurant and were escorted to a table – whereupon we realized that no one spoke English – not a single person. As my Chinese is relatively limited – OK, I don’t know any Chinese – we considered leaving, but before we could decide to do so, a waiter, dressed in a freshly pressed, starched white chef’s coat came and spoke to me in a foreign language that I assumed was probably Chinese. After a few seconds, and upon receiving no response from me, he repeated himself (at least I assumed he repeated himself as I could not make heads or tails of what he was saying.)
SailorJill: “For Pete’s sake, Jack, say something.”
SailorJack (reaching back in my memory for anything Chinese I proudly blurted out): “Sayounara.”
SailorJill: “Jack, that’s Japanese for ‘goodbye’.”
SailorJack (hopelessly trying to retain some level of dignity and composure, I used the only other word that came to mind): “Pijou?”
To my complete amazement, this last utterance brought a smile to our waiter’s face and he turned around and disappeared into what I assumed was the kitchen; only to quickly reappear with two bottles of Tsingtao! After the waiter left, SailorJill groaned, “It figures – the only word you know in Chinese is the one for “beer.” She said that like it was a bad thing!
I was, however, somewhat concerned that he had left without leaving us a menu or taking our order – a concern that was alleviated in short order when a young man, also wearing a white chef’s coat pulled a cart up to our table. On the cart were a number of small covered bamboo baskets. Apparently word had gotten out that I was a little on the slow side, as the waiter took the top off one of the baskets and pointing at the contents, politely said: “Dim Sum.” Assuming “DimSum” was Chinese for “do you want this”, we craned our necks and looked at what appeared to be a number of little white dumplings in the bottom of the basket. Not sure what it was, I nodded and he placed the basket on our table, wrote something on a small sheet of paper and placed that on the table as well.
Taking up my chopsticks I couldn’t help but notice that the level of conversation in the room dropped precipitously; followed by an almost imperceptible collective sigh of relief when I didn’t actually poke myself in the eye with one. That is not to say that I was all that adept at using them to pick up a slippery little dumpling! Considering resorting to sashi-bashi, I quickly reconsidered under the warning gaze of SailorJill, and actually succeeded in picking it up! Biting into the dumpling, I found that it contained some sort of gelatinous meat. Not recognizing the meat, nor really wanting to know what it was, we finished off the basket just as another young man wearing the now familiar white chef’s coat pulled up to our table and went through the familiar routine of taking the lid off the basket and offering, “Dim Sum.” Upon our acceptance, he placed the basket on our table, made a notation on the sheet of paper and moved on to the next table. This basket contained several square things wrapped in some type of green leaf and tied together with string.“Jack, if that string is to keep something in there that doesn’t want to be in there I am not eating it.” But to our relief, upon untying the string we found it contained sticky rice and some sort of spicy, mucilaginous meat. I am now reassessing my earlier guess at the meaning of Dim Sum and now believe it to be Chinese for “mystery meat.”
After several more visits from the carts containing ever more mysterious (yet intriguing) samplings, we had finally reached our limit and nodded “no” to the young man with the cart. With a smile, he handed me the slip of paper from the table and pointed to the cash register.
“Jack, how are you going to pay for this. Even I can’t read the bill and the lady behind the counter can’t speak English.” Not to worry. As an experienced world traveler, I have, in the past, faced this very situation with my customary tact and aplomb. Approaching the register I handed the cashier my bill, gave her my most ingratiating smile, reached into my pocket, pulled out all the Hong Kong money I had – and gave the whole bundle to her. Appearing to be somewhat taken aback by the wad of cash thus handed to her, she slowly nodded, removed a few bills from the stack and handed me back the balance. To this day I have no idea what that lunch cost, but it was worth every cent.
After lunch we took the train to Aberdeen, a small fishing village renowned for its floating restaurants. As we got off the train, I took in the sights and turned to SailorJill, “I can certainly see why George Hamilton sang about Aberdeen being the prettiest town that he had ever seen.” After a moment, Jill said, “Jack, he was singing about Abilene, not Aberdeen.” Well, Aberdeen was also pretty impressive!
We capped off our day by taking a Sampan ride around Aberdeen’s harbor and marveling at the sights afforded us from the deck of our small boat. The harbor is so picturesque that it has been used for scenes from movies featuring Jackie Chan, Jean-Claude Van Dame, Angelina Jolie, and Bruce Lee. Located in the harbor are a number of floating restaurants – the most famous of which is the Jumbo FloatingRestaurant. It is decorated in the style of an ancient three story Chinese Imperial Palace. We will have to come back some time for lunch or dinner, but now it was time to head back to the ship.
Day 17 – Hong Kong
Our cruise is over and we have to go home. It was a most remarkable trip and I wish I had the space to describe some of our other stops –including our unbelievable day in Hanoi. But all good things must eventually come to an end and that day is today. Disembarkation was the easiest we have ever had. We had breakfast, picked up our bags and left the ship by 6:45 and arrived at the airport by 7:30. Thirty hours later we arrived in Atlanta along with what had to be Georgia’s largest single collection of Tiger Balm.
Maybe I can sell the stuff through our Jack and Jill’s Abracadabra Martini Bars!