Scintillating Sydney

 

scintillating - adj. - sparkling, brilliant

Although I featured it in an early blog from 2021, I could not think of a more appropriate word than scintillating to describe the Coral Princess's most recent destination, Sydney, Australia.  Luckily, the ship got a great parking spot at a dock nestled between the famed opera house and the upbeat, quaint section of the city known as the Rocks so that I could have toured by foot. 

However, I opted for the hop on, hop off bus, the red and blue lines, that took many of us on a complete tour of the entire city in about three hours time. Prerecorded information was conveyed to us via a set of ear buds. I enjoyed a seat on the second floor of the convertible, double-decker bus. As it was quite warm and humid, the constant breeze made for a comfortable ride. Two facts that stayed with me were that Sydney, a combination of Vancouver, London, Boston, and maybe even L.A., is young, having been established by British convicts in 1788. The second was that Bondi Beach, a destination for surfers, was one of the first to utilize lifeguards regularly. Oddly enough, I saw two homeless people about two miles apart who, compared to those in L.A., seemed to be living quite well on the sidewalks with their clean, white sheets, queen-sized mattresses, and "gated" rooms made by well-organized crates. 

After the bus tour, I explored the opera house but was unable to score a ticket for a tour of the interior spaces as they were sold out. However, based on what I observed inside the box office area (and on the internet), I'd say the space is very similar to the Disney Center in Los Angeles. The woodwork looks to be about the same although the architecture of the Sydney Opera House is more original, modern, like a piece of modern art. It is, to say the least, sculptural. To me, an opera house should be elegant, but as there are so many performance spaces in the Sydney, I'd say that it is much more of a performing arts center than a traditional opera house. The exterior and interior designs are appropriately rustic given the nature of Australia itself. 

After strolling around the botanical gardens and wharf area, I headed into the modern art museum to witness some inexplicable art installations. One included footage of O.J. Simpson's white Broncho, a closeup of his face after hearing his acquittal, and Kim Kardashian revealing her mother's grief over the loss of her best friend, Nicole Simpson. What the artist was trying to convey via the medium of video was beyond me, but I was impressed to see a portion of Los Angeles history in Australia. 

One last standout had to do with the wildlife in scintillating Sydney. Amidst the packs of uniformed secondary school children lined up on lawns awaiting tours were flocks of wild, black and white ibises and white cockatiels. At that moment, I was reminded that the species of creatures are very different from what we have in the Western Hemisphere. Maybe before leaving Australia, I'll have to visit a zoo so that I can see kangaroos and koalas. 

Next stop? Burnie, Tasmania. Until then, good day, mates! 

#Sydney, #Australia, #blog, #blogger, #travel 

  

Nau Mai to Tauranga, Picton, and New Plymouth, New Zealand

 

nau mai - Maori term for welcome

Tauranga: At first glance, the colors of Port Tauranga are dark blue (the ocean), green (the plant life on the hillsides) and white (the houses and businesses). On this particular Sunday, our coach bus tour included a ride through the beach community (considered legendary by surfers) with its protected coves, high dunes, surf shacks, and contrasting multi-million-dollar, modern glass homes (like you would find in Los Angeles) across the street from the sand. Just beyond these natural and manmade riches, tucked between residential neighborhoods, is the Elms, a historic village dating back to the mid-1800s when Queen Victoria's people decided to impose their culture (which included their Christian beliefs) on the Maori tribe, the natives of New Zealand who still make up twenty percent of the population. What I enjoyed about the place is the well-tended English garden that encircles the property composed of a restored chapel, library, and main house, used primarily for sleeping. Our knowledgeable docent provided us with everything we needed to know and more.

From there, we motored inland past rolling hills, farms like you would find in Pennsylvania, yet more reminiscent of Scotland (where most of the British immigrants came from) until we reached a kiwi orchard, where we learned all about how New Zealand's cash crop, the kiwi, is grown on vines. At first glance, we thought we were in a vineyard. The grapes, however, were camel-colored, oval balls with fine hair. The last stop was a community center, a version of an Elks Club, outfitted with booths containing products, such as jams and jellies, cosmetics, tea, chocolate bars, etc. all featuring the kiwi as a main ingredient. (Tourist trap, maybe?) My personal favorites were the kiwi tea and scones with kiwi clotted cream. Here Great Britain met New Zealand in a delicious way. 

Picton is a quiet, quaint hamlet by the sea that the large ships often bypass. Shuttles for the ship's passengers were provided as freshly cut lumber dominates the port area resulting in no safe areas to walk. We strolled through much of the town (a few blocks large), hiked through a slice of the outback (two miles worth) that rose up from the bay, and were treated to narration from Hannah (Vancouver native who wanted to find touches of her home elsewhere) and Andy, a native New Zealander. The most interesting fact that I gleaned had to do with the possum, a rat-like creature in a cuter outfit that I grew up appreciating while living in a mid-century modern house in the woods of New Jersey. The Europeans introduced possums to New Zealand in the 1800s. Since then, the population has exploded to 80 million creatures that the government is trying to curtail, sadly. No matter where you are in the world, overpopulation can happens when a new species is introduced to an ecosystem. However, the most memorable trait of Picton was/is its "handmade ice cream." All of us on the excursion received a free cone of honey vanilla from a local merchant. So delicious! Unsurprisingly, New Zealand is known for its dairies. I haven't had ice cream like NZ's since my college days amidst the dairy farmlands of Pennsylvania. If you are willing to take this world cruise or at least two planes, Picton is an unspoiled, unforgettable delight. 

New Plymouth: The first bit of information out of our bus driver's mouth was that this mid-sided city in the shadows of Mt. Taranaki was the filming location for The Last Samurai, chosen by Hollywood movie location scouts because Mt. Taranaki looks remarkably like Mt. Fuji. For some reason (probably monetary), the company couldn't film there. Apparently when Tom Cruise, the film's star, was in New Plymouth to shoot, he was able to disappear into bars and restaurants. No one wanted a selfie with him in it. He was treated like a regular citizen. 

Upon exploration, I found that New Plymouth looks similar to one of many Canadian towns along the St. Lawrence. The name "Devon" is everywhere as the first British settlers came from Devonshire, England in 1841. Land tensions between the native Maoris and the Brits led to war in 1860, which lasted about ten years. There was much division and resentment up until 1972, when the New Zealand government admitted to stealing Maori land and paid 98 million dollars in reparations to the tribe. Also at that time, tribal traditions and history were added to school curriculums (and remain) to ensure that the Maoris maintain their cultural identity. Peaceful relations between the factions continue to be a priority. (In this regard, the U.S. could really learn something from New Zealand.)

The most interesting sights along our two-mile walking tour of New Plymouth (hosted by a senior British docent) were the Richmond family home (New Plymouth's first family), a six-hundred-year-old sweet chestnut tree, antique American cars participating in the "Americarna" road rally, a verdant park where the original railway was built in 1875, and a cemetery where soldiers who died during the "Maori trouble" are buried. Of special interest to me, the retired English teacher, was an outstanding symbol of three feathers that is repeated on local monuments. A Maori prophet, their Gandhi, introduced it to represent "glory to God, peace on Earth, and goodwill towards men." (Sound familiar?) I spent the rest of the time allotted exploring a shopping mall right next to the shuttle bus stop, featuring some American stores, such as Sketchers. (The sneakers were very expensive at about $200 U.S. dollars at pair). I met a very good-looking young clerk who told me he was in love with the idea of my home state California, a visit to which is on his bucket list. I suppose the grass is always greener. Just one more thing: many Americans are applying for New Zealand residency lately. Hmm. I wonder why. 

Next stop? Sydney, Australia. Catch you soon! 

#New Zealand, #down under, #travel, #blog, #blogger 

A Tale of Opposing Ports: Lively Lifou, New Caledonia and Immaculate Auckland, N.Z.

 

immaculate - adjective - free from flaws or mistakes; perfect. (Oxford Languages)

    If there are angels put in place just to govern the weather, they must be watching over us on the Coral Princess because even though it is rainy season here in the South Pacific, we have experienced very little of the wet stuff. However, the morning we landed in Lifou, New Caledonia, the angels might have been snoozing as there was a down pour that lasted two hours. Ostensibly, they woke up as the clouds cleared and the sun came out just before my cohorts and I got out of a tour van to begin a hike through one of New Caledonia's ancient forests. 

     Along with twelve other shipmates, two native Kanak guides named Flo and Liz, and two nameless stray dogs, I spent about two hours stepping over roots and negotiating rugged, volcanic terrain in my very worn New Balance sneakers. (As the path was slick from the rains, it was a miracle I did not fall.) Since the mutts never left us, I decided to name them after two of the trees we came across: Blueberry for the (pregnant) female and Manna for the male. They proved to be excellent, ebullient companions. As we journeyed past sandalwood trees, endemic conifers, wild calla lilies, vanilla bean vines, etc., Flo enlightened us with information regarding New Caledonia. What I remembered at the end of the day was that the island has10,000 inhabitants who are under French rule. Although the islanders live for free in hatched huts decorated with hand-woven rugs or in concrete and tin shacks, they have few modern conveniences. The Kanak natives are mainly self-sufficient, depending on some livestock (pigs) and home-grown crops. As divorce is not an option, many of the young people delay tying the knot, or they remain single, something Flo admitted to being. 

    After about a half mile, we came across a scenic overlook of the largest bay in New Caledonia, a verdant hook of tropical vegetation, white sand, and water of glacier blue intermingled with turquoise. It was so clear that I could see many fish playing tag along the volcanic reefs from about 100 yards above the ocean. On the way back, we came across a deep, dank grotto containing human bones. Apparently, the dead used to be left in these caverns that punctuate the earth like black craters. Flo had no idea just how old the remains were. About an hour later when we were back in the vicinity of the ship, I took one last look at the island and realized that I had run out of synonyms for paradise. 

    Two sea days later, we found ourselves in contrasting, immaculate Auckland, the largest city (1.8 million people) on the island of New Zealand. Wealthy, westernized Auckland could not be further from Lifou. It reminded me of any one of a short list of international cities: Helsinki, Old Havana, London, and L.A. But if push came to shove, if you were to blindfold me while I was still out at sea on the ship, and then drove me from the port into the middle of the city, upon removing the mask, I'd look around and guess that I was in Vancouver as the city just feels Canadian. Which makes sense as once upon a time, the British made themselves known in Canada as well as in New Zealand. 

   Tu-EE, an indigenous person (Maori) who sounded like an MP, probably from the House of Lords, was our tour guide as we rode throughout the city. Just like I have found in L.A., a million dollars will buy you a home of 1200 square feet or a three-bedroom condo in Auckland. The American influence is greater here than anywhere else since they have a number of fast-food restaurants (KFC and Pizza Hut, plus Burger King and McDonalds) and mall shops (Lululemon, H&M). As our brand new coach bus was too comfortable for the octogenarians onboard, we only stopped once at a park just outside of the city that had spectacular views of the bay and skyline. From Tu-EE, we learned that New Zealand's economy depends mainly on dairy, agriculture, timber, and tourism. What impressed me most is Auckland's extremely organized public transportation system. Bargain hunting in the main shopping district is easy as the U.S. dollar is worth 30% more. Our tour took us by parks where cricket was being played, through Parnell Village–Auckland's equivalent of Notting Hill–up to the War Museum, down to the shopping district (Queens Street), around the sky needle, and back to the harbor where there were many opportunities to gape at tall ships and/or dine al fresco under multi-colored umbrellas. The perfect SoCal-esque weather (70 and clear) brought many New Zealanders out of their homes on this particular Saturday. 

    Once the tour was over, I had a chance to do a bit of traveling by foot around the city. Doing a bit of people watching, I noticed few differences between the tourists off of the cruise ships and the natives. Let's put it this way: If you saw any of them walking down 42nd Street in New York, you would not point and say, "Look! New Zealanders!" Despite the presence of indigenous peoples (Maori make up twenty percent of the country) who hold onto their customs, Auckland is very diverse. I could see myself living here as I am sure many others can. 

    In my next written episode, I will give you the lowdown on Tauranga, Picton, and New Plymouth–all in New Zealand–just in case you would like to take a separate trip here yourself. 

#New Zealand, #blog, #blogger, #personal essay, #travel 

For the Skeptics: The Case in Favor of the Cruise

 

skeptics - noun - persons inclined to question or doubt accepted opinions (Oxford Languages)

No matter how valid the supportive evidence, there will always be skeptics as people tend to hold onto opinions that make them feel secure in their own psychic or environmental spaces. It does not help that stereotyping can leak into their subjectivity as well. Which is all okay. To each his or her own choice. As for me, I try to be fair, look at the big picture, and base my conclusions on facts rather than on opinions. When it comes to either liking or disliking cruises as a means of exploring the world or just escaping your own for seven to over a hundred days at a time, cruises are a pleasurable, entertaining, and an affordable option that most, no matter what their age, should welcome.

Achtung, Skeptics! Here are all of the reasons (I can think of) why you should change your mind about getting on a ship: 

1. Value: Cruising is still cheaper than traveling via air, staying in hotels, and or air b n b's, especially when you consider the number of ports (countries visited), and the quality of the onboard food and entertainment. Based on what the regulars tell me, enticing deals can be brokered to save the cruiser even more money. Addictive indeed. 

2. Practicality: Certainly, only unpacking once and easing through embarkation (if you don't have to fly to and/or from the port city) are luring. When was the last time you did not have to go through intensive security at some point during your vacation? Since I had checked in for my world cruise before embarking, all I did was walk through one metal detector and was able to go directly to my stateroom. Ahhh. It was SO easy. Traveling from international port to international port is also a walk in the park as the ship takes care of customs for the most part. After visiting eight foreign countries already, I have not had to show my passport once. 

3. Adventure : When on a cruise, you can go to a number of different countries within days. Although this does not work for those who enjoy spending a week or more in one country, I personally prefer seeing as much of the world as possible to get a feel for its contents, cultures, and size. (I am also running out of time chronologically. If I wanted to fly to fifty countries and stay a week in each, I might run out of cash and time.)

4. Service : There is nothing like being treated like a princess or prince. On every cruise, there are numerous services that spoil you rotten, such as no-extra-charge room service pretty much whenever you want it and maid service (bed make up and turn down). With the right package deal, if you are anywhere on the ship, you can get a drink and snack delivered (for an extra charge). Your personal server will find you via technology. What I like is the crew members who know your name. I haven't enjoyed this level of sucking up to since I used to go to my father's country club with him. His club dues for one year were about the same price as my 114-day Pacific cruise and that was fifteen years ago. Also, if you don't like tipping, you can pre-arrange to have all of your favorite servers tipped in advance. If you have not accumulated 150 days on Princess, you have to do your own laundry, but there are facilities on each deck. I wash all of my clothes by hand and hang them up to dry in my room. Which is not as bad as it sounds as I do a little at a time. 

5. Social life: You meet interesting people from all over the world, celebrating life together on one vessel. And you learn that we are all the same (humans) and should theoretically get along. Additionally, I like that the ship expects passengers to dress up evenings. Formal nights are common, making cruises the last bastion of elegance. 

6. Entertainment: If you adore all kinds of shows that are included in the price of your ticket, you will love cruise ships. Samples of entertainment include Broadway show excerpts, vocalists, instrumentalists, dancers, show bands, big bands, movies, Cirque du Soleil-esque performers – just about everything you can think of. No matter where you are on the ship, you can usually find live music played until 11 p.m. each night. 

7. Casino: Although small, the casino is usually located mid-ship and has everything you would find in a Vegas hotel. And I am told that the gamblers generally win.

9. Variety of ages: Assuming that cruises just attract people over 65 is a stereotype that is only partially true. The seniors who cruise tend to be young at heart because there is nothing to be unhappy about. Plus, they are usually in good shape as the itineraries can be arduous. On this particular world cruise, I have seen children, teens, young adults, parents and couples. The parents are home-schooling their children right onboard the ship. Even though these folks are in the minority on this voyage, Caribbean cruises tend to attract mainly young families. Disney usually attracts primarily families. 

10. Education: If you think your brain will rot if you spend more than two days out at sea, there are plenty of educational options onboard, such as lectures given by experts in their fields. And again, all of the seminars are included in the price.

11. Games: For those who like to play, there are plenty of opportunities onboard a ship. For example, you can play trivia, various card games, pickle ball, shuffle board, etc., etc. There are even game rooms on the ship for the kids. Yet for the sophisticated few who like to read, there is a complete library onboard. 

12. Health: Everyone needs a good night's sleep to remain healthy. Admittedly, I do not sleep all that well on dry land, but when I am on a ship, I snooze like a baby as when the ship is moving, there is sufficient cradling so that I am rocked to sleep, something I have not experienced since I was, well, an infant. A generalization that is often associated with cruising is that there are so many in one place that everyone winds up getting sick. After having spent 63 days on six different cruises so far, I have not seen much in the way of illness as the staff is constantly vigilant, reminding passengers to wash and sanitize their hands. If you do get sick, there is a hospital onboard. There are not too many hotels that have hospitals. 

So there you have it. I am probably forgetting to include a few more pluses, but twelve reasons are probably sufficient for now. If I still have not convinced you to take a risk on cruising, so be it.  

#reasons to cruise, #cruise ships, #travel, #blog, #blogger, #personal essay 

Suva and Dravuni Island, Fiji: Tentative Vicissitudes

 

vicissitudes - noun - unexpected changes or variations in circumstances that occur over time. (Cambridge English Dictionary)

    I view Suva and Dravuni Island, Fiji, as vicissitudes, as they, "variations in circumstances" (my own), both managed to defy my expectations albeit over a short period of time.

    With 180 inches of rain per year, Suva, Fiji is the largest, sun-and-rain-soaked city in the South Seas. (Say that five times fast.) Heavily populated Suva resembles any city in Indonesia (take your pick), which makes sense as the original inhabitants traveled from Southeast Asia. The current natives are friendly as proven by the sound of "Bula!" ("Hello!") that reverberates through the air and then lands on billboards. Not surprisingly, Fiji was a British colony until 1970. Signs are in English, roadways reflect British names, people drive on the left, but there is also the American Burger King and McDonalds. Clearly, the enjoyment of the hamburger is a uniting, global phenomenon. 

    Our tour guide on the hour-long drive to the beach, Nancy (anglicized from Nanana) pointed out myriad sights. Prisons (three within an hour's drive) are situated on grassy hillsides along the roadside as well as numerous churches, although all religions are represented on Fiji. I suppose that the number of penitentiaries prove that despite religion, the people are adverse to the Golden Rule. But crime is always the sum of the addends: overpopulation plus poverty. According to Nancy, the city folks are more Westernized; whereas, the villagers still adhere to certain customs, particularly for the women, who are not allowed to wear hats, shorts, or miniskirts unless they are on the beach. All three are a sign of disrespect. On one end of the island, the dead are mourned for 100 days. During this time, the men cannot shave or cut their hair, and they must wear black. (The women probably just wear black since they don't cut their hair or shave anyway.) 

    With its unevenly peaked mountain ranges and tropical vegetation, the Fiji countryside is naturally beautiful. Wild orchids peep out from roadside brush like tropical birds, a distraction, a feeble, but appreciated attempt to mask the shacks of poverty. Tapioca that seems to be another ubiquitous diversion next to the road is a big export. The plant looks a lot like marijuana but is never mistaken for it.

    The beach we went to was and is not extraordinary, not what you might expect. I befriended a female gynecologist from Baltimore right off the bus who became my close companion for ninety minutes. About 300 yards from where we were camped out on beach chairs under makeshift pergolas, there was a water baptism taking place. Which was a filmic sight to see as most of the witnesses were also in the water, some dressed in black, holding black umbrellas silhouetting them in the shadows that the obfuscating sun cast. At first I thought I was watching a funeral. My temporary friend and I spent a few minutes in the ocean, the temperature of which (80-85 degrees) was reminiscent of bath water that might be attractive to some, but it just served as proof of global warming to me, something that is very real indeed. 

    Before long, we found ourselves on the bus heading back into town. When we reached the center, a memorable sight was an open-air florist shop, featuring red, white, and pink floral arrangements on multiple tables in celebration of Valentine's Day. Which is not a holiday that I thought was celebrated outside of the United States. "Love is everywhere." The full day ended with a cleansing, cooling rain and the sight of fellow cruise passengers drinking Fiji Water from the same bottles you'd find at 7-11. (Of course, the factory is in Fiji.) The day was enlightening, but Suva and surroundings in reality was not what I had hoped it would be.

    In direct contrast, Dravuni Island transcended my forever high expectations. Less than a mile from one end to the another, Dravuni would be the perfect location for the TV series "Survivor" albeit the residents (all 200 of them) would probably complain. (Apparently,"Survivor" was filmed in the Fiji Islands but not on Dravuni.) For those of you (and me) who abhor technology and the pace at which it is traveling mainly for the sake of greed, Dravuni is Paradise on Earth. It is the Fijian counterpart of an Amish farm, but perhaps even more rudimentary as there is pretty much nothing: no indoor plumbing, electricity, land vehicles of any kind (I did not even see a bicycle) or anything like smart phones, laptops, phones, etc. Of course, there are no cell towers. Can you imagine? (Sublime!)

    Coming off of the tender boat, I felt like one of Captain Bligh's crew from Mutiny on the Bounty. Time has not touched Dravuni or its people. The only attributes of contemporary life that I saw were bass boats with outboard motors, shabby furniture, and suitcases that a family boarding a bass boat headed to an unknown port were carrying. The residents live in open-air, concrete huts with tin roofs, much like their fellow Fijians in the suburbs of Suva. All had nothing but "bula" to say to us. Of course, we countered with "bula" right back, simple, but direct and well intended. As it was Sunday, no one was peddling wares except for coconut juice right from a freshly downed coconut. Christian hymns emanating from an unseen church could be heard in the near distance. Trying to avoid the searing sun at all costs, my Aussie friend John and I sat just feet from the clear, turquoise water under palms. Our resting place? An old wicker couch that someone had deposited there for the comfort of the guests off of cruise ships. I attempted to snorkel, but the fish were sparse, probably due to the warmth of the ocean, another sign that things are not right with the natural world. 

    When it came time to leave the Garden of Eden behind, I seriously did not want to go. I kept repeating to myself, What if I just stayed here? It was so tempting. After all of the Coral Princess passengers were present and accounted for, the captain fired up the engines, and the ship began to move. Fijian men in two bass boats on either side of the ship escorted it through a narrow channel deep enough to accommodate the width and girth of it. Once the vessel was safely beyond the shallow shoals, they turned their boats around, waving goodbye enthusiastically to me and anyone else who was standing on the balconies, hesitant to wake up from the dream. I watched the boats return and did not go back to my cabin until the island was a few inches long on the offing, signaling the end of a perfect day. 

    If you are interested in visiting Fiji in the future, I would recommend spending time on the primitive out islands if you can possibly manage to do so. I think you'll agree that we all need to take a few steps back in time on occasion.

#travel, #cruise, #Fiji, #Suva, #Dravuni Island, #blog, #blogger

Simple, Sublime Samoa

 

sublime - adj. - of great excellence or beauty (Oxford Languages)

    Similar to the U.S. Virgin Islands in terms of its topography, simple, sublime Samoa is filled with pleasant surprises. Initially, I had no expectations of the island, once affiliated with Great Britain, Germany, and the United States. The German influence has long disappeared, yet the British and American remain as all Samoans speak English, appreciate rugby, drive on the left side of the road, and eat in McDonalds. It became the first Pacific nation to gain independence in 1962, and the pride of autonomy shows. 

    After disembarking, my Russian and German friend and I ignored the numerous taxis corralling fellow passengers in the harbor, braved the heat (about 88), and walked about 1.6 miles into Apia, Samoa's main city. On the way to a recommended marketplace, we noticed many houses of worship and wound up spending about ten minutes appreciating the wood carvings and stained glass in the Immaculate Conception Cathedral, a Catholic masterpiece signifying the natives' acceptance of Christianity as their primary religion. From there, we followed a paper map (yup) that led us to the main open-air market Fulgalei Fresh Produce in the center of town. The stalls were so narrow and heat of the day too suffocating that we left early in search of a taxi to take us to Piula freshwater cave pool in Upolu, about twenty miles east. 

    Fortunately, we found Eete, a twice married young man with five children, in his Toyota right in front of the visitors' center. When I sat in the "suicide seat," on the left side as opposed to right, I saw that Eete had a mini version of the New Testament on the dashboard, which made me feel more at ease considering my vulnerable position in the front of the vehicle. While on the narrow, serpentine, macadam route, Eete serenaded us with Christian reggae music on his car radio. The quiet hamlets we passed featured brightly painted, concrete homes and gardens (Some plants were in recycled tires painted orange). The inhabitants seemed to understand the adage, "Cleanliness is next to godliness" since their pride in ownership was obvious despite their not owning much. We also saw that the beaches that outline the coast vary from chocolate to white and the water from brunette to aqua and turquoise. 

    Once we arrived at the pool, we mingled with the native peoples who seemed nonplussed that they had to share their waters with foreigners. Personally, I enjoyed snorkeling both in the cave pool and ocean, meeting many friendly, colorful tropical fish at an intimate distance, including a clown fish that looked like a stunt double for Nemo. On the journey back to the ship, we noticed many school children in well-pressed uniforms, and college students dressed in all black. I'm sorry to say but we did not have enough time to visit the Robert Louis Stevenson Museum, the island home of Stevenson, author of Treasure Island, that Samoa no doubt inspired. He had built and occupied it in a town just outside of Apia called Vailima, a far cry from his birthplace of Edinburgh (that home I did see back in 2017). 

    After our journey was over, we did not have any problems using American dollars to pay Eete as an American dollar is worth $2.68 in Samoan currency. With the approximately $172.00 in Samoan money that we paid Eete, he probably took his wives and children out to a sumptuous dinner, a treat well deserved. 

    If you are ever in the vicinity of New Zealand, take a flight to simple, subline Samoa. You won't regret it. 

#Samoa, #cruises, #travel, #blog, #blogger

  

Cruising and College: "Curious Bedfellows"?

 

"curious bedfellows" - noun - term borrowed from William Shakespeare's The Tempest that refers to unlikely, unexpected groups forced into an alliance due to shared interests. (plainenglish.com)

Superficially, it may seem like cruising (traveling via a cruise ship) does not have anything to do with the collegiate experience. Yet in fact, the "curious bedfellows," cruising and college, have more similarities than differences, forcing them into a metaphorical alliance of sorts. 

To begin, the cost of both per semester (about four months) is actually about the same, roughly 50K if you have a single stateroom (a cruise's version of a dorm room). On a ship and in college, the amount includes a number of classes offered on a daily basis when the ship is at sea. However, only on a cruise is reading optional. In addition, there are no exams or grades on a cruise. But in college, there are many. On a cruise, the meals and beverages are sumptuous and delicious and unlimited; whereas at an actual college, they are not as tasty and are limited. As far as I remember, no alcohol is legitimately offered in the college cafeteria, not so on a cruise. The price of a cruise and college also includes all entertainments: theater, Las Vegas-style shows (usually not found at institutions of higher learning), and sports (although a cruise ship may only offer board games, dancing, pickle ball, mini golf, and shuffleboard–my personal fav). As we know, college includes more in the way of athletics, particularly team sports, although I must say that the enthusiasm of the spectators in both realms is about the same. The ebullience of screaming and yelling competing groups is ageless.

Upon closer examination, the classes offered on a typical cruise ship amount to hour-long seminars mainly on the ports of call themselves. Occasionally, there will be a class on marine biology (similar to that offered in college, complete with Power Point slides), but most of the cruise selections are geared toward learning a skill, such as basket weaving–what collegiate football players used to take to up their G.P.A.s and stay in school. Additionally, on ships, there is always trivia and various quiz bowls to exercise the mind. It is my guess that such pastimes can also be found at many colleges. 

When it comes to socialization, the two have much more in common. On semester-long cruises, the dorm mates–usually wives and husbands (generally roommates on dry land)–decorate their doors with eye-catching phrases held in place via magnets. Which is very much like what one would see at any university or college. I even saw one door on the ship offering passers-by a go at Scrabble. After a few weeks of being on the ship (or on any college campus), a passenger (like any student) can join clubs (choir, poker, Bridge, etc.) and may find his or her group, a.k.a. clique, with which to spend time (hang out). Cliques can meet in the staterooms (dorm rooms in college) that are about the same size as an actual college dorm rooms except they are much nicer, or they can congregate at a number of bars throughout the ship that offer entertainment (such as live bands and dancing) just as college-town pubs do. Walking around either the ship or a campus, the extrovert may find oneself running into people he/she knows after two weeks, making one feel at home or marginally popular.

Of course there are obvious differences. One is the age range. The average passenger on this 114-day cruise is about seventy; whereas, the average age of a college student is nineteen. A cruise includes WAY better class trips than what one would find at any college or at any school, for that matter. But college has the benefit of being on drivable dry land. Also, the campus on a ship is much smaller to accommodate fewer "students" albeit there are colleges that do have 2,000 undergraduates, yet they are spread across numerous acres. And of course, one does not graduate from cruising like one does from college although the option to continue both states of being is available for additional dollars.

I am sure I can come up with more comparable attributes between the two "curious bedfellows," but I'd rather trot over to the onboard "cafe" to pick up a couple of slices of pizza before I have to go to a club meeting (choir) and afterwards back to my room to proofread this "paper" and turn it in (publish it) for all to read. If I see the glass as half empty, I can say that this particular cruise is a step toward assisted living. If I see the glass as being half full, it is merely a step back in time, toward college. In order to feel much younger than I am, I will choose the latter. 

#college, #cruises, #comparison, #travel, #blog, #blogger