First part of our cruise to the Mexican Rivera, began by train on Amtrak from Oxnard to San Diego where we boarded Holland America Ryndam vessel. Road Runner picked us up at 6 a.m. Bleary eyed, we waved farewell to our cats. Cats were bleary-eyed. Des Teary-eyed.
As usual, in our serendipitous marriage, Des and I have two versions of cruising.
His: too long, misses his cats, 'is it over yet? asked in a plaintive voice', Knees hurt, Musical entertainment too loud--looks for cotton to stuff in his ears at showtime. Other times, can't hear too well and won't get a hearing aid. Oh well! But he is enjoying meeting new people, and hanging out with his best friend from Olympia, Ed Kenealy, and others from our church. The food is too fancy for his 'Jack in the Box' taste. Asks me to interpret the menu, even though it is is English. He was thrilled to find bread pudding on the menu, though.
Hers: Glorious to have breakfast served in our room, dirty dishes hauled away like magic. Great views, Went ashore on Mazatlan and Loreto, a charming Mexican village absent touristy traps. Taken to Loreto by a Tender...a misnomer. Not tender...rocky, weavy, waves which pitched and tossed, but not my breakfast. My friend promised I would be hauled into the Tender by two gorgeous muscular men who would drop me daintily from the moving platform onto the rolling deck of the Tender. Since the crew and staff of the ship is comprised of mostly Indonesian and Phillipino men, no big guys around. Besides, who could see if they were gorgeous and muscular when you are shooting up prayers to the saints of all things hazardous. On shore, walking on cobblestoned paths another challenge, but doable. As for bargaining with local vendors, most overused expression was 'make my day.' The plea to buy, buy, buy. You bargain, they lower new price to a whisper and you must promise not to tell anyone. Crafty guys.
Entertainment on the ship nightly was mostly good. We had CNN in our cabin where Anderson Cooper captivated the news junky in us, just like home One night a fabulous ventriliquist who never moved his lips. Come to think of it, the dummy did it all. He assured the audience he didn't really need the guy with his arm up the dummy's backside? The act was so good, I suspended disbelief and believed Sam, the dummy. The Casino sounds didn't lure us, even though we walked through it every night on way from dinner to our room. Des loved swooping down on one of our church members to make them feel sinful as they worked the slots. (No names here to protect the guilty.) He/she was to immune to his teasing....anyway, sin is not preached much in our church. My own Catholic childhood assured me that sins could be deposited in the ear of a shadowy figure in a tiny cubicle just for the price of a few hail Mary's, some our Fathers, and a Station of the Cross depending on the magnitude of the sin. Back to Des: There were 3 formal nights on the trip, meaning men wore Tux or Suit and tie and women wore long dresses or fancy pants suits. Des had his black preacher's suit (for weddings and funerals) and he negotiated with me to dress up two out of three nights. This was before his feet got blisters and he couldn't wear his good shoes. He wore his fluffy sheepsking bedroom slippers with his suit. I should have taken a picture. He promised me no one would notice. Right.. Well, maybe so, because a contingency of 200 or so Members of TOPS (take off pounds sensibly) were on our ship. There were times when the small elevators were overloaded and people had to back out before it would move. Kind of embarrassing at times. No one noticed his slippers in th elevator. All in all, we both enjoyed the experience, especially since I promised Des I wouldn't allow him on another cruise, and promised to lock the door when we got home and allow me to leave the house. I have other thoughts to share on the philosophy of travel when the hair has whitened or disappeared and the knees are undependable and the case carrying assorted prescription meds is larger than the one carrying the clothes, but that is for another time.
My greatest sin on this trip is the neglect of the gym on the top deck. Hux, my trainer back home, will be very disappointed in me. I have been avoiding most desserts, but that won't impress him. His dire warning, cruisers gain one pound a day for every day on the ship. I hope he was wrong.
One back home, we have pictures and memories to share. Our cats and Des are purring while I am dipping one toe lightly into the real world. I am sure no one will bring me breakfast in bed tomorrow, call me Miss Ann and leave a chocolate on the bed tonight. Not only that, no one will fashion turkish towels or cloths into an elephant perched on the bed when we turn in for the night. The party is over. The laundry awaits.
So Says Sassy
