ARKANSAS FAMILY REUNIION

ARKANSAS FAMILY REUNION BLOG
JUNE 19 2010
Dottie’s birthday place, Camden, Arkansas is an interesting and typical small Arkansas town. The county seat for Ouachita County with a population of 13,000, it is conveniently located 100 miles south of Little Rock and a few hours drive from Shreveport, Memphis and Dallas. About 75,000 people populate a 50 mile radius trade area surrounding Camden. The town is situated on the banks of the Ouachita River and once was a steam boat landing where cotton was loaded and shipped to New Orleans. It became one of the leading cotton shipping terminals in the mid 19th century. A cotton gin was built in 1841 launching Camden’s industrial history.
The abundance of timber combined with the development of the railroads created the timber industry in the early 1900’s. Oil was discovered in Arkansas in Oachita County in the 1920’s and, along with timber, played a major role in the development of the area’s economics. In the 1940’s the Shumaker Naval Ordinance Plant was established near Camden. After the site was abandoned by the government, the Highland Industrial Park was developed and now provides a home for a number of high tech companies that provide employment for about 4000 local residents. Arkansas’ only publicly supported technical/junior college (SAU Tech) provides a continuous supply of skilled workers.
Although Camden is a basically rural area, it provides lovely residential areas with low tax rates and a surprising array of library, museum and cultural amenities. Over 50 churches serve the area many of which are over 100 years old. Many historical buildings, monuments, cemeteries and civil war battlefields around Camden link the town to its rich and colorful past. Over twenty active service clubs serve the area.
Camden’s past includes some interesting history that locals are quick to relate. Davy Crockett’s sister, Matilda, lived in Camden and is buried nearby. The Spanish explorer Fernando DeSoto camped in the vicinity of what is now downtown Camden in 1541. Edgar Allen Poe worked as a printer for the local newspaper, The Herald, in 1845. Sam Walton owned the Ben Franklin Five and Dime located at the present day site of Stinson’s Jewelry Store. Three Arkansas governors and two US Senators were from Camden. Wild Bill Hickock served in Camden for the Union Army as a scout and spy during the Civil War. Grapette, an internationally known soft drink, was invented by B.T.Foks in Camden. The Drink was marketed in 38 states and over 20 countries. Porter Clay, brother of famous U.S. senator Henry Clay , established the first Camden church. He is buried in the Confederate Cemetery of Maul Road. Movies featuring such names as Kirstie Alley, Patrick Swayze, Barbara Hershey, David Carradine and others were made in Camden. And names such as Carrie Nations, Huey P. Long, Will Rogers (who was paid $1500 for his performance in 1928), Elvis Presley, oil fire expert Red Adair and a host of others have had significant roles in Camden life in the past.
Come on now! You mean to say you’ve never heard of Camden, Arkansas
Dottie’s cousin Wanda’s side of the family has traditionally held a reunion at Camden on Father’s Day every even numbered year. Although family members have moved from Camden, mostly to Texas, they enjoy returning to Camden every other year to renew acquaintances and catch up on one another’s lives. This year the family returned for the weekend with a catered lunch arranged to be served at the White Oak Lake State Park about ten miles northwest of Camden.
Our trip to Arkansas was hugely successful in that we met a whole bunch of kissin' cousins and such and renewed Dottie's memories of where she grew up. On the other hand, we experienced usual Arkansas weather at 94-99 degrees with 85-90 % humidity. Not exactly what we Californios are accustomed to. And then, the highly touted southern cooking that Dottie and I looked forward to didn't materialize. We did have one wonderful home cooked dinner that cousin Dean, 84, prepared and served at his house. We watched carefully as he prepared the meal and asked lots of questions about techniques involved in southern cooking. The catered lunch on reunion day couldn't be expected to be much and it wasn't; deep fried catfish, deep fried chicken and deep fried hush puppies were filling but nothing to write home about. And then we went to the local’s most popular fish fry house and more deep fried catfish, deep fried chicken and deep fried hush puppies apparently from the same kitchen.
Our Arkansas relatives got together two additional times; once for pizza and coke and again for luncheon left overs (make that "leave overs"). We skipped the latter and had dinner at a local café where Dottie’s chicken fried steak appeared to have been left in the micro wave too long and the gravy was served in a bowl on the side sans mashed potatoes. So much for southern cooking.
Cousin Dean spent an afternoon driving us around Camden where Dottie lived until she was nine. The town of 13,000 is spread around an area big enough for 50,000 + with a downtown area of small shops and county government offices. The economy seems to be thriving with auto dealer lots full instead of boarded up California style. As Dean drove us around we were surprised that he simply stopped in the middle of the street when he wanted to point to something and no one was ever behind us. Cousin Dean told us that in Camden two cars at a stop sign at the same time is referred to as a “traffic jam”.
It was fun stopping in the neighborhood, across the street from the now closed Paper Factory, where Dottie's grandmother operated a boarding house. It was at this boarding house where Dottie's mother met her father and lived for the first year or so after she was born. Later we visited the neighborhood where her parents built their first house and she lived until she was nine. Her father purchased land at the top of "Hecker Hill", on Fairview Road, and subdivided and sold lots apparently to finance his own house. The house still stands with the same tree in the back yard that once provided a limb for Dottie's swing. We drove to the school, Fairview School, that Dottie attended about a mile away. Her school had been torn down with a beautiful brick set of buildings in its place. Dottie recalled walking to the school and then later riding her bike. Dottie's father had worked his way up at the Paper Mill which led to a number of management promotions and transfers that took the Family to Savanna, Georgia and several other locations before arriving in Seattle and then Oakland in 1948.
We planned our week so that we could spend a couple of days in Hot Springs. Here we found lots of people and modest traffic. Hot Springs features the nation's smallest National Park which includes the final half dozen "baths" that featured opportunities to soak in the hot water with the presumption that cures for all of life's ills could be found. So certain was the curative effect of the waters that the government build a huge veteran's hospital close by. The hospital claimed the highest cure rate of any hospital in the nation as it provided hydro therapy for everything from the gout to syphilis (no kidding). The baths did land office business until the advent of some of our current drugs in the fifties and the baths drifted into oblivion. One bath house continues operation today where for $18 you can sit in the hot water and dream of getting better. Actually, in the hey day of the baths, a cure visit lasted a minimum of three weeks. Not too many poor folk got the cure from the waters.
We toured the buildings, walked through the souvenir shops and rode the elevator at the nearby “Tower” that takes visitors to a height of 650 feet above the baths for a 180 degree view of the countryside. Interestingly, you can't see the baths but you can see 150 miles of Arkansas in every direction. Arkansas has a lot of trees. Before leaving Hot Springs we spent a leisurely several hours on a steamboat touring the man made lakes just west of town. Our luncheon “cruise” took us by what must be the Finest collection of contemporary mansions in Arkansas. We passed by literally hundreds of lake front mansions including some that were quite remarkable. The home of the CEO of Tyson Foods included a separate connected island with marvelous landscaping and a prominent gazebo for entertaining guests while watching the sunset. Dottie’s continuing interest in real estate led to examining a local real estate sales magazine that listed several 4 and 5 bedroom lakeside mansions, with docking facilities, for $500,000. Small wonder that AARP lists Arkansas as one of the best places to retire on a small income.
Our flights each way, via collected air miles, were pleasant enough and gave us both time to catch up on our Sudoku in between cat naps. When we turned in our rented car we found that we had driven almost 1000 miles. Given that we estimated that we passed at least 500 Baptist churches along the way, we figured that everyone in Arkansas can walk to church on Sundays. Our rented served us well but we don't think we'll run out and buy a Toyota Camry right away. They put the gear shift in the wrong place and we kept turning on the windshield wipers.
Love to all,
Dottie and Dad, Mom and Bill, Gram and Grampa Bill, The Somersett/Bercks

TAHITI 2010

TAHITI 2010
Towering palms swaying gently on a balmy breeze, a brilliant moon shining through puffy white clouds, the soft strum of a ukulele seductively accompanying the poetic grace of a long haired gloriously tanned beauty from an imagined world and you and your best friend held captive by a magnificent setting sun. Welcome to French Polynesia and the wonders in each of our minds created by a life time of film, books and music that has become a part of each of us. Hey! We want to go to Tahiti.
Our seven night nine day trip to Tahiti started with an inviting ad in our local newspaper. “Take your Sweetie to Tahiti – only $895 including air fare for four nights. Since we’d just tossed a note about a visit to a South Sea Island in our “bucket”, we were quick to sign on. A few days later, after appropriate reflection that usually follows spontaneous acts of wildness, we acknowledge the fact that we wanted to go but it seemed a long way to go for just a couple of days. Negotiating with the travel company followed with arrangements agreed that would extend the stay for a full week. We were set.
Since Air Tahiti Nui was the key element in our travel bargain, we needed to get to Los Angeles to begin the seven and a half hour trip. Our flight left Los Angeles at 5:30 pm on a Sunday afternoon and delivered us to Papeete, the capital of French Polynesia, at 11:00 pm the same day. To say the least, we were bushed. We left our home at 8:00 am and spent the next 18 hours in transit.
Our original reservations had us booked into the Papeete Hilton. A call two weeks before we left informed us that the Hilton had just announced it was closing and we would be assigned a different hotel; the Sofitel Maeva Beach Resort Hotel. We knew Sofitel liked to think of itself as on the high end of four stars but it took a “google” to assure us that we wanted to accept the substitute. The Sofitel brags about its “only” white sand beach in Tahiti and it’s marvelous view of the “lagoon”. We agreed to the change when we were assured a sea view room which wasn’t in the package offered by Hilton.
Our assigned room pleased us. The view, as promised, gave us a full view of the lagoon between Tahiti and Moorea, a good look at the huge pool between the hotel and the ocean and a clear shot of the outdoor dining room that allowed us to pick our times for meals when we could avoid the rush. Interestingly enough, there were no big crowds. Like the rest of the world, Tahiti has been suffering big time from the recession. During our stay we enjoyed the pick of the beach spots or poolside lounges whenever we were ready.
We discovered quickly that Tahiti is different. The money, the French Polynesian Franc, was once tied to the US Dollar differing only in the fact that no decimal was used. Thus $5.00 became 500 francs. The declining dollar no longerdrives the Franc and the exchange rate is now between 78 and 88 Francs to the dollar, depending where you trade. The negative exchange rate is magnified by the “consumption tax” philosophy that provides the income necessary to run the country. Almost all commodities are taxed before they arrive on the market shelf. We were told that a two liter bottle of coke costs about 1$ US at dockside but close to the equivalent of $5 US on the market shelf. A $20,000 car from Japan sells for $40,000 after the consumption tax is added. Those who like regressive taxes will love the French Polynesian system. No income taxes and everyone pays the same tax when purchases are made.
With jobs lost because of reduced tourism, we expected to see some signs of a weakened economy. We didn’t. Ladies drove the family car to the supermarket four blocks from home. Everyone seemed to have a car or motor scooter for transportation. Morning and evening rush hours provided the appropriate traffic with smog producing traffic jams all over Papeete. All seemed happy. Boys, men and women over thirty seemed, in the majority, over fed if not obese.
Tahiti, like all of French Polynesia, started life as a volcanoe; actually several volcanoes. The “island” is actually two islands connected by a narrow isthmus. The largest island is Tahiti Nui; the Nui meaning large. The smaller is Tahiti Iti; you guessed it..Iti means small. Tahiti Nui has three towering mountains at heights of 6,000, 6,400 and 6,800 feet respectively. The tops of the mountains are perpetually in the clouds and almost constant rain. The rainfall provides for hundreds of waterfalls and a source of hydro electric power that supplies 20% of the island’s need. The remaining 80% is generated by diesel generators.
Tahiti is estimated to have been settled by Polynesians from Samoa and Tonga between 300 and 800 AD. The first European to visit Tahiti was Englishman Samuel Wallis in 1767. He was followed by French explorer Louis-Antoine de Bougainville who was completing France’s first circumnavigation. It was Bouganville’s account of his visit that attracted the attention of Europe. He described an earthly paradise where men and women lived happily in innocence, away from the corruption of civilization. Captain Cook stopped by for several months in1769 to recover from scurvy that had weakened his crew and himself. The island became a stopover for anyone in the area in the coming years including the HMS Bounty which stopped for provisions just before the famous mutiny.
In 1842 French Admiral Dupetit Thouars convinced Queen Pomare IV to accept a French protectorate which remained until 1880 when King Pomare V was forced to cede sovereignty to France. The story is told how the King, an alcoholic, was deprived of his booze until he signed off on ownership to France. In following years, the British and France fought for control of the Pacific islands. In a final treaty, The French gave the English the rights to colonize Australia and New Zealand in exchange for all that is now known as French Polynesia; an area as large as Europe containing 118 islands. Today French Polynesia is called a French Overseas Community which is privileged to govern much of its life without interference from France. There is some talk about Polynesia becoming an independent country but no one sees such happening very soon.
Our tour of the island was on the one highway around the coast covering about 71 miles. While the island originally inhabited by early settlers was largely barren, the entire island is now a mass of heavy vegetation brought to the island from all over the Paciic. Flowering shrubs and trees are ever present with Breadfruit trees, bamboo, avocado, banyan, pine and a large variety of exotic trees covering all open space that hasn’t been purposefully cleared. We stopped to view a couple of “blow holes” along the coast. Every little bay had a few surfers waiting for a big one even though the shoreline everywhere featured menacing looking rocks. We saw several surfers standing on their boards using a paddle to enhance their speed and control. A few houses featured grass roofs but most had roofs of corrugated steel painted in soft pastel colors.
We were surprised to see ash trays on our tables in restaurants and people smoking pretty much where ever they pleased. On the other hand, we didn’t see all that many smokers and very few young people smoking. Trash in the streets made one think that perhaps we were in a Mexican border town although the graffiti was much less offensive than we know in California and far less artistic
Papeete is the capital of French Polynesia with Tahiti being the most populated of the islands in the country. French Polynesia is inhabited by 260,000 people 170,000 of which live on the island of Tahiti.
We decided that we couldn’t call our Tahiti visit complete without doing a Tahitian show. The Intercontinental Hotel next door had such a show so we cabbed over (we were told it wasn’t wise to wal k the area at night) for dinner and the show. The dancers were highly trained and very athletic looking. The ten men and ten women wore great costumes and danced beautifully while the six piece Tahitian band drummed and played in superb fashion. But we were bored. We didn’t know why we were disappointed but we chose to leave before the usual Hawaiian/Tahitian thing where the customers get to get up and look foolish trying to dance with the stars of the show.
Our tour of the island proudly took us to the Paul Gaugan Museum where the story of his life was told and copies of his most famous paintings were displayed. We learned that Gaugan began his many faceted life as a seaman sailing the world on sail powered cargo ships. He became a banker, married well, had four children and gained a fortune as a stock broker. A recession caused the loss of his fortune and changed his life. He left his wife and children and took up the life of a struggling artist. He gained an appointment as Envoy to Tahiti that included passage to the island but no salary. He struggled for years as a painter never really gaining much attention for his work. He married a 13 year old Tahitian girl and began painting young Tahitian ladies with little success. At one point he attempted suicide. He had been taking arsenic in small doses to cure syphilis. In a fit of depression, he drank an almost full bottle of arsenic and finished off a bottle of absinthe before setting down to die. His previous experience with arsenic allowed his system to cope and he became very ill but did not die. He died at age 65 while living in the Marquessa Islands and never learned that one day his work would become very valuable.
The population of Tahiti today is approximately 60% Tahitian, 10% Chinese, about 10% French and a mixture of the three. 1000 Chinese were brought to Tahiti in the mid 19th Century to work in cotton fields when attempts to employ Tahitians failed. Cotton thrived until the late 1860 ‘s when world cotton prices fell after our Civil War. The Chinese were left to their own devices and had to find new means of survival. Today the Chinese of Tahiti are the wealthy class owning much of the island and controlling much of the business.
We knew before we left home that we wanted to visit Moorea; an island about 15 miles from Tahiti Nui. Rather than doing it on our own, we signed up for a tour that picked us up at our hotel, dropped us off on the dock near our high speed ferry, met us with a guide and bus on Moorea, fed us lunch while we were entertained by Tahitian dancers and took us back and dropped us off on the door a step of our hotel eight hours later. As luck would have it, no one else was interested in a tour of Moorea on our chosen day and we had a ten passenger van and guide all to ourselves for the day. Our guide/driver, Timate, was Tahitian from a family that had been fishermen for several generations. Like most Tahitians, Timate spoke both Tahitian and French as first languages. He also spoke clear and precise English for which he apologized repeatedly. We were pleased that Timate was our guide for the day.
As we were driven the 37 mile perimeter road, we were told that Moorea has only 17,000 inhabitants; 10% Chinese, 21% Japanese, 50% Tahitian and the rest a mixture of the three. Each time we passed a store or supermarket we were told that the businesses were run by Chinese. A considerable number of Mooreans take the ferry each day to Tahiti for work and school. Fishing and farming are the principal sources of work for the people of the island. The four resort hotels on the island contribute valued jobs as well. People on the island are still talking of the “tragic” closing of a Club Med in 2001 five days after 9/11. The loss of 140 steady jobs continues to be a source of concern and almost daily discussion.
Timate told us that the lack of jobs and things to do made it very difficult for young Mooreans. Drugs and alcohol are a significant problem that no one seems to be able do much about. Alcohol related traffic deaths among young people is an ever present occurrence. Timate told us of his brother who died in a high speed crash that killed 5 boys, none over twenty.
We stopped for photo ops at a bay where the film Mutiny was filmed at another bay, Cook’s Bay, where Captain Cook spent several months on one of his voyages in the area. The inevitable tourist “trap”, Tiki Village, provided a pleasant stop where we were encouraged to buy handicrafts and such from nice people in Tahitian garb. A couple of the men were dressed in the kind of loin cloth worn by Suma wrestlers. Such a costume gave full view of tattoos covering legs, posteriors, backs, arms and torsos that were often completely covered with art work. We were told that all men wore tattoos. The tattoos were designed to tell much about the person; where his family came from, the kind of work he did, where he went to school and much more.
A Tahitian meal was served us. Dottie had Pineapple Pork and I had chicken in a cocoanut milk sauce. A four piece band played as a troupe of three men and three women danced local Polynesian dances. Our guide Timate was one of the musicians and sang lustily when the need arose.
One of the interesting exhibits at Tiki Village was a display of several dozen black and white photographs of young Tahitians. The exhibit was a gift from the wife of a photographer who had visited the island several times before World War II. The gift was made as a reminder to all of the innocence and beauty of the local people before civilization over ran this part of the world. Almost all of the photographs were of naked subjects who were obviously comfortable dressed as they were.
As we waited on the pier for our ferry return to Papeete, we were entertained by a half dozen teen age boys who repeatedly dove from a platform about 20 feet above the water. The boys who were in their late teens were having great fun as each tried to out dive or cannon ball his friends. The show was especially appreciated by a class of apparent third and fourth graders who were waiting for the same ferry after a field trip on Moorea.
The wonderful warm sea water caressing the beach at our hotel made a pleasant site for several days of loafing in the shade of one of those cute little grass hut like table coverings that you are supposed to see on a south seas beach. An occasional dip to cool off between naps made one wonder how we got so lucky.
Our long trek back to Pleasanton was made pleasant and memorable by several fun things. While we were waiting for our mid-night flight out of Papeete, a man of about our age was wheeled in by a lady who appeared to be a daughter and another lady wearing a big badge on her shirt that said nurse. They sat next to us. Within minutes, the man, all smiles, took out an eight string ukulele and began playing. His daughter and the nurse sang along in Tahitian. We asked if the man was going to be the entertainment on our flight to Los Angeles. The question was good for a laugh. Moments later a wheelchair pusher airport employee joined the group and sang along. At the end of the song, the newcomer was asked to play which he did. For the next thirty minutes the two did their version of dueling ukuleles much to our pleasure and those sitting around us. We hardly noticed that our plane was an hour late in taking off.
The second fun thing was an invitation to upgrade to Business Class for the seven and a half hour flight. The flight had been oversold and we were moved from peon class to empty seats up front so that others could make the flight. That made the flight one in which we both slept for almost six hours and then enjoyed a full breakfast served on linen with real knives and forks.
Our third delight came as we arrived in San Jose. Dorri and Andrea picked us up after our 4:30 arrival. Knowing that the highway home is one big traffic jam at that hour, it was quickly decided that dinner before driving home was in order. Andrea has a suggestion for a restaurant nearby and we headed in that direction. We decided that since it was dinner time for most folks, we called Bill’s sister Jan to invited her to join us. She wasn’t home so we left a message. Five minutes after we arrived at the restaurant we had chosen, Bills’ nephew Cliff Grodeon entered the restaurant. We asked if Jan had received our message and if he was going to have dinner with us. He seemed a little surprised to see us and allowed as how he was meeting Jan and Brooke, Skylar and Jesse there for dinner. A few minutes later, Ja












































































































































































n et al came through the door totally surprised to see us. Our good fortune brought about a wonderful meal and visit with family that closed our exciting Tahiti adventure.
We are truly blessed,
With our love to all,
Gram and Grampa Bill, Mom and Dad, Dottie and Bill

BLOG #12

23 August 2008
Happy, happy birthday to Dottie………….
Hello to all from the U.K. headed to South Hampton and our new home onboard the NCL Jade.
Our whirlwind stay in London is over and we’re checked out and entrained on our way to meet our next cruise. Wouldn’t you know, we woke up to a clear blue sky and bright sunshine this morning; the first in two weeks. Our cab driver this morning told us that you can have all four seasons of the year in one day in London on any day. We knew exactly what he was talking about yesterday when we awoke to overcast skies, walked to a nearby museum a little chilled, left the museum a few hours later in sunshine so bright and hot that we changed the side of the street we were walking on to find some shade and walked home under our “brelly” after doing s little shopping in the “local” near our hotel. We carried our umbrella every day for two weeks but only donned our pocket panchos three times. Summer in London is interesting.
One can spend a whole day seeing the sights around Parliament Square. We did and enjoyed every minute of it. We began with a ride on the “London Eye”; a ferris wheel that claims to be the largest rotating observation platform in the world. We aren’t sure if it’s the biggest but at over 450 feet high we weren’t going to argue. For a dollar a minute they lift your enclosed gondola to the peak and down in twenty-five minutes. A couple of dozen pics later and we were sure we’d seen more roof tops in twenty-five minutes that the two of us collectively had seen in our life times.
`A stroll back across Westminster Bridge past Big Ben and the House of Parliament and we were inside Westminster Abbey. Several hours later we decided that the Abbey is “hands down” the nicest if not largest grave yard we had seen. There is no question that the Westminster Abbey is beautiful and loaded with history.
Parliament must have been in session on the day of our visit because the usual tours had been suspended for the day. We made our way through the few blocks that separate Parliament Square and Trafalgar Square, the home of the famous obelisk topped with a full size statue of the famous British admiral Lord Nelson. I read once that the mounting for the statue was made as high as possible so as not to allow Lord Nelson’s diminutive height detract from his glorious record of successes on the high seas. Trafalgar square which for generations has been a focal point for dissension disappointed us with the substance of the crowds during our visit. Rather than being allowed to become part of some kind of demonstration we joined the ever youthful square crowd in watching yet another British victory at the Olympics shown on the biggest TV screen we have ever seen.
The Trafalgar Square Olympic view matched the experience we have had in trying to keep up with the goings on in Bird Nest land. We saw about 10
minutes devoted to Michael Phelps doing his grand thing and the rest of the U.K. coverage of the Olympics was devoted to Biking, Sailing and Sculling. We all like to see our country win so we watched little known U.K. athletes get medals that the Brits never dreamed they could win. Apparently the National Olympic Lottery, launched ten years ago to provide financial support to athletes training for the Olympics, has paid off handsomely. Now the Brits are anguishing over how they are going to pay their host’s costs of the 2012 Games. One cabby commented that it was nice to see his country win the gold but no one had ever heard about the gold winning athletes until they stood on the stand. Footballers they know……but scullers?
Our day was complete as we managed to keep up with our goal of at least one pub meal a day during our two week stay. This time we lunched at the Sherlock Holmes Pub with all of the food items in the menu named for one of the great detective’s sleuthing triumphs.
Friday, August 15, marked a two pub day and visits to Hyde Park, next door Green Park and it’s entrance marked by the massive Wellington Arch, Piccadilly Circus and the Piccadilly Trocadero. The Trocadero is a city block of multi-storied buildings that have been joined and renovated to provide hundreds of small booths selling stuff of all kinds and a multi screen theater. We wondered through the Trocadero amidst thousands of teenagers foraging through the variety of goods designed primarily to attract their allowances. We looked a lot but found nothing to our liking which kind of puts the lie to our “acting like teenagers”.
Our plan for the day had included a short underground ride to Leicester Square where generations of theater goers have bought “same day” reduced priced theater tickets. We found such a seller at Piccadilly Circus and bought premium, rather than reduced priced, tickets for the current theatrical rage in London, “Billy Elliott”. We figured we were lucky to get tickets at all since most shows are sold out days in advance.
Our Dress Circle tickets turned out to be balcony seats in the very last row away from the stage. We could barely see the marvelous acting and dancing on stage and neither of us could make out the dialogue from the stage that was in a northern U.K. accent that much of the audience couldn’t decipher. We later returned to the ticket seller who readily admitted to her mistake but refused to return our $180 purchase price offering us only $80 or nothing. We accepted with a promise to write to the local authorities about how we had been cheated. Before we left, we informed everyone standing in line behind us that the seller was a cheat and to beware. We wrote our letter to the “Town Council” but really don’t expect a response. Billy Elliott will be coming to New York in October and will undoubtedly be a long run hit.
We returned to Piccadilly Circus and its ever present excitement the next day to do some Christmas shopping in some of its unusual shops. Our evening search for something different for dinner brought us to a basement level “Wine Bar” that looked inviting. It turned out to be more than inviting when we found fondue on the menu and a delightful Swiss lady owner who we had great fun with. A glass of the red and some pics with our new friends, the owners, and we promised to return before we left town. We did.
We spent most of a day in the British Museum. When Dottie learned that the museum had the world’s largest and finest collection of Egyptian mummies we were on our way. Most British museums are free of charge and this one is listed as one of the world’s half dozen greatest museums. Literally thousands of people of all ages toured the marvelous displays as we wound our way through the halls. When we left we were amazed at how long we had been inside knowing that we only saw about a fourth of the collections on display.
We decided when we were squashed against the Buckingham Palace fence watching the “Changing of the Guard” that we wanted to see more of the palace. We returned twice to do the tours of the “Royal Mews”, the “Queen’s Treasures” and the “Palace State Rooms”. We were pleased that we did. It is hard for anyone to really imagine how royalty lives. After our visits we had a new understanding of why the Queen has been known as one of the richest ladies in the world. The Royal Mews houses some of the horses and carriages used by the Queen suggesting that Dwight might consider a modest upgrade if he ever acquires a royal horse. The Queen’s treasures focused mainly on the collection of art work by the greatest artists ever while the State Rooms allowed us the privilege of seeing where the Queen entertains dignitaries at a dining table seating about 200 guests served by more than 80 liveried waiters.
We followed our visits to Buckingham Palace with a visit to Kensington Palace; the home of Princess Diane following her separation. We concluded quickly that Diane was being sent to a contemporary “Towers of London”. The gardens were ill kept, the rooms poorly maintained, and the whole of the palace poorly lit and dreary. Even the rooms previously used by Queen Victoria seemed depressing. We left feeling sorry for Diane.
A highlight of our London experience was a day visit to Stratford Upon Avon; the land of Shakespeare. We toured “Anne Hathaway’s Cottage” where the eighteen year old Shakespeare and the twenty-six year old Anne began their married life. The cottage was originally built in the fifteenth century and remains today a well preserved example of how homes were constructed in that era. The well versed docents made our visit interesting as they provided interesting anecdotes about the lives of the Shakespeares and their neighbors. Following a tour bus ride through the area, we met a couple that Bill met during his South Seas tour last December, Paul and Katryna Skitt. Our leisurely lunch with the Kitts gave us a first hand contact with real people in the country we were visiting and a welcomed perspective.
We knew from our first day on Cromwell Road that the Victoria and Albert Museum was just a few blocks away from our hotel. We saved our last day for our visit. Bill had recalled that he had seen a great exhibit of 18th and 19th century inventions at the V & A. We found that the inventions were actually on display at the Museum of Natural History next door. What we found was a marvelous display of silver work from over the centuries and table displays that used the marvelous wares. We spent far more time than we had planned but enjoyed every minute of our visit.
Our last day was a day to celebrate Dottie’s 76th birthday. Our day began with Bloody Marys in our room followed by our first real English Breakfast in the hotel dining room. The breakfast was great but we were a bit overcome to find that the full English Breakfast was more pricey than the marvelous Chateabriand we had enjoyed on two previous evenings. The day concluded with dinner downtown and tickets to a stage presentation of “Wizard of Oz” at London’s newest theater. A happily smiling Dottie was led to the curb and another amazing event. As we approached, a cab appeared out of no where and screeched to a halt right in front of us. We had been told in advance that a cab would be impossible to find when the theater crowd erupted onto the street but there it was. C’mon now! How lucky can you get?
We love you all,
Gram, Grampa Bill, Mom and Dad, Dottie and Bill

BLOG #12

23 August 2008
Happy, happy birthday to Dottie………….
Hello to all from the U.K. headed to South Hampton and our new home onboard the NCL Jade.
Our whirlwind stay in London is over and we’re checked out and entrained on our way to meet our next cruise. Wouldn’t you know, we woke up to a clear blue sky and bright sunshine this morning; the first in two weeks. Our cab driver this morning told us that you can have all four seasons of the year in one day in London on any day. We knew exactly what he was talking about yesterday when we awoke to overcast skies, walked to a nearby museum a little chilled, left the museum a few hours later in sunshine so bright and hot that we changed the side of the street we were walking on to find some shade and walked home under our “brelly” after doing s little shopping in the “local” near our hotel. We carried our umbrella every day for two weeks but only donned our pocket panchos three times. Summer in London is interesting.
One can spend a whole day seeing the sights around Parliament Square. We did and enjoyed every minute of it. We began with a ride on the “London Eye”; a ferris wheel that claims to be the largest rotating observation platform in the world. We aren’t sure if it’s the biggest but at over 450 feet high we weren’t going to argue. For a dollar a minute they lift your enclosed gondola to the peak and down in twenty-five minutes. A couple of dozen pics later and we were sure we’d seen more roof tops in twenty-five minutes that the two of us collectively had seen in our life times.
`A stroll back across Westminster Bridge past Big Ben and the House of Parliament and we were inside Westminster Abbey. Several hours later we decided that the Abbey is “hands down” the nicest if not largest grave yard we had seen. There is no question that the Westminster Abbey is beautiful and loaded with history.
Parliament must have been in session on the day of our visit because the usual tours had been suspended for the day. We made our way through the few blocks that separate Parliament Square and Trafalgar Square, the home of the famous obelisk topped with a full size statue of the famous British admiral Lord Nelson. I read once that the mounting for the statue was made as high as possible so as not to allow Lord Nelson’s diminutive height detract from his glorious record of successes on the high seas. Trafalgar square which for generations has been a focal point for dissension disappointed us with the substance of the crowds during our visit. Rather than being allowed to become part of some kind of demonstration we joined the ever youthful square crowd in watching yet another British victory at the Olympics shown on the biggest TV screen we have ever seen.
The Trafalgar Square Olympic view matched the experience we have had in trying to keep up with the goings on in Bird Nest land. We saw about 10
minutes devoted to Michael Phelps doing his grand thing and the rest of the U.K. coverage of the Olympics was devoted to Biking, Sailing and Sculling. We all like to see our country win so we watched little known U.K. athletes get medals that the Brits never dreamed they could win. Apparently the National Olympic Lottery, launched ten years ago to provide financial support to athletes training for the Olympics, has paid off handsomely. Now the Brits are anguishing over how they are going to pay their host’s costs of the 2012 Games. One cabby commented that it was nice to see his country win the gold but no one had ever heard about the gold winning athletes until they stood on the stand. Footballers they know……but scullers?
Our day was complete as we managed to keep up with our goal of at least one pub meal a day during our two week stay. This time we lunched at the Sherlock Holmes Pub with all of the food items in the menu named for one of the great detective’s sleuthing triumphs.
Friday, August 15, marked a two pub day and visits to Hyde Park, next door Green Park and it’s entrance marked by the massive Wellington Arch, Piccadilly Circus and the Piccadilly Trocadero. The Trocadero is a city block of multi-storied buildings that have been joined and renovated to provide hundreds of small booths selling stuff of all kinds and a multi screen theater. We wondered through the Trocadero amidst thousands of teenagers foraging through the variety of goods designed primarily to attract their allowances. We looked a lot but found nothing to our liking which kind of puts the lie to our “acting like teenagers”.
Our plan for the day had included a short underground ride to Leicester Square where generations of theater goers have bought “same day” reduced priced theater tickets. We found such a seller at Piccadilly Circus and bought premium, rather than reduced priced, tickets for the current theatrical rage in London, “Billy Elliott”. We figured we were lucky to get tickets at all since most shows are sold out days in advance.
Our Dress Circle tickets turned out to be balcony seats in the very last row away from the stage. We could barely see the marvelous acting and dancing on stage and neither of us could make out the dialogue from the stage that was in a northern U.K. accent that much of the audience couldn’t decipher. We later returned to the ticket seller who readily admitted to her mistake but refused to return our $180 purchase price offering us only $80 or nothing. We accepted with a promise to write to the local authorities about how we had been cheated. Before we left, we informed everyone standing in line behind us that the seller was a cheat and to beware. We wrote our letter to the “Town Council” but really don’t expect a response. Billy Elliott will be coming to New York in October and will undoubtedly be a long run hit.
We returned to Piccadilly Circus and its ever present excitement the next day to do some Christmas shopping in some of its unusual shops. Our evening search for something different for dinner brought us to a basement level “Wine Bar” that looked inviting. It turned out to be more than inviting when we found fondue on the menu and a delightful Swiss lady owner who we had great fun with. A glass of the red and some pics with our new friends, the owners, and we promised to return before we left town. We did.
We spent most of a day in the British Museum. When Dottie learned that the museum had the world’s largest and finest collection of Egyptian mummies we were on our way. Most British museums are free of charge and this one is listed as one of the world’s half dozen greatest museums. Literally thousands of people of all ages toured the marvelous displays as we wound our way through the halls. When we left we were amazed at how long we had been inside knowing that we only saw about a fourth of the collections on display.
We decided when we were squashed against the Buckingham Palace fence watching the “Changing of the Guard” that we wanted to see more of the palace. We returned twice to do the tours of the “Royal Mews”, the “Queen’s Treasures” and the “Palace State Rooms”. We were pleased that we did. It is hard for anyone to really imagine how royalty lives. After our visits we had a new understanding of why the Queen has been known as one of the richest ladies in the world. The Royal Mews houses some of the horses and carriages used by the Queen suggesting that Dwight might consider a modest upgrade if he ever acquires a royal horse. The Queen’s treasures focused mainly on the collection of art work by the greatest artists ever while the State Rooms allowed us the privilege of seeing where the Queen entertains dignitaries at a dining table seating about 200 guests served by more than 80 liveried waiters.
We followed our visits to Buckingham Palace with a visit to Kensington Palace; the home of Princess Diane following her separation. We concluded quickly that Diane was being sent to a contemporary “Towers of London”. The gardens were ill kept, the rooms poorly maintained, and the whole of the palace poorly lit and dreary. Even the rooms previously used by Queen Victoria seemed depressing. We left feeling sorry for Diane.
A highlight of our London experience was a day visit to Stratford Upon Avon; the land of Shakespeare. We toured “Anne Hathaway’s Cottage” where the eighteen year old Shakespeare and the twenty-six year old Anne began their married life. The cottage was originally built in the fifteenth century and remains today a well preserved example of how homes were constructed in that era. The well versed docents made our visit interesting as they provided interesting anecdotes about the lives of the Shakespeares and their neighbors. Following a tour bus ride through the area, we met a couple that Bill met during his South Seas tour last December, Paul and Katryna Skitt. Our leisurely lunch with the Kitts gave us a first hand contact with real people in the country we were visiting and a welcomed perspective.
We knew from our first day on Cromwell Road that the Victoria and Albert Museum was just a few blocks away from our hotel. We saved our last day for our visit. Bill had recalled that he had seen a great exhibit of 18th and 19th century inventions at the V & A. We found that the inventions were actually on display at the Museum of Natural History next door. What we found was a marvelous display of silver work from over the centuries and table displays that used the marvelous wares. We spent far more time than we had planned but enjoyed every minute of our visit.
Our last day was a day to celebrate Dottie’s 76th birthday. Our day began with Bloody Marys in our room followed by our first real English Breakfast in the hotel dining room. The breakfast was great but we were a bit overcome to find that the full English Breakfast was more pricey than the marvelous Chateabriand we had enjoyed on two previous evenings. The day concluded with dinner downtown and tickets to a stage presentation of “Wizard of Oz” at London’s newest theater. A happily smiling Dottie was led to the curb and another amazing event. As we approached, a cab appeared out of no where and screeched to a halt right in front of us. We had been told in advance that a cab would be impossible to find when the theater crowd erupted onto the street but there it was. C’mon now! How lucky can you get?
We love you all,
Gram, Grampa Bill, Mom and Dad, Dottie and Bill

Blog #9 London

13 August 2008
A drippy hello from London Towne,
.
We opted to take a tour from the ship to London via the Essex and Kent countryside and the marvelous little town of Canterbury ending with a quickie tour through London. The day for our travel was great with blue skies and little puffy white clouds framing the rolling hills of Essex. Our guide walked us through Canterbury pointing out buildings that were older than California dirt and fun to look at. Little canals running through the town were described as once serving the weavers who provided the town with its reason to be for several centuries.
The Canterbury Cathedral, of course, was the real reason we took the trip. Our guide filled us in on the tempestuous past for the church men who once governed religion in England but left us to our own devices to tour and explore the site. We spent a couple of hours soaking up the grandeur of the Cathedral and its many small chapels. If one were to really study the various modes of architecture incorporated in the various parts of the Cathedral it would take days rather than hours. We concentrated on enjoying the enormity of the buildings, enjoying the organist practicing, sitting in on a choir practice and strolling slowly through the many parts of the Cathedral.
By the time our bus slowed down to become a part of London traffic, a light rain began and followed us into town. We did the usual tour of London’s time honored monuments before we were dropped off to taxi on to our hotel. The Marriott was ready for us but had placed us in a room facing the back side of adjacent buildings; a scene that didn’t please us since we were going to make the Marriott our home for two weeks. The desk assured us that “on the morrow” a room with a decent exposure would be ours. In the meantime, we were treated to afternoon cocktails in the lounge. They put their best foot forward by treating us right from the git go.
Our first day’s outing was to St. Paul’s Cathedral; Christopher Wren’s masterpiece. When Cathedral was mentioned, Dottie was quick to ask “how many steps?” after our 220 step experience at St. Isaac’s in St. Petersburg. Assured that there wasn’t a tower to conquer, we were on our way. Our “underground” trip, and the purchase of our “Oyster Cards” introduced us to the mode of transportation we would be using for the most part in London. Three hours worth of St. Paul’s and we decided that we had been thrilled and amazed enough and we headed back to our hotel to unpack in the new room that was waiting for us. We easily concluded that the two Cathedrals we had seen in the last two days were gorgeous but not quite in the same league as our church at home.
We had asked several British couples on board ship what would be the one thing we shouldn’t miss in London. Nearly everyone put “The Tower of London” at the top of their lists. So off we went to see what “The Tower” is all about. After four hours poking around through the gazillion or so rooms in the tower we decided that the Tower was all about history. We imagined people loosing their heads, being imprisoned and talking their way out of or into life’s problems. We started our tour early, since we both are early folks, and were pleased we did. When we were ready to go home it seemed that half the world was touring the tour. The Royal Jewels display that we strolled leisurely through now had a waiting line two blocks long. We were pleased that we sought out the demonstration of medieval instruments of warfare and now feel ready to do our part if we find ourselves committed to seiging a castle or something.
We lunched on our first round of fish and chips and were each served the biggest piece of fish you can imagine. We ate it all but most of our “chips” went to a flock of pigeons watching us enjoy our meal. With a big piece of day left, we opted to board one of the many river cruise boats that ply the Thames loaded with tourists. Our round trip took us from Tower Bridge to Westminster Landing and back and gave us our first almost glimpse of “Somerset House”. We heard the onboard guide list Somerset House along with a number of other buildings he was pointing out but never really felt we knew that we had seen it. With a name like Somerset House, we decided we would make a point of finding it for a later visit. A light rain followed us back to our hotel.
The first couple of nights we were a bit on the tired side so we had dinner in the hotel dining room. The first night’s Chateau Brionde, one of the least expensive things on the menu, was so great we decided that a mistake was made in the pricing. Since then we’ve been seeking out small restaurants in the area with great success. Last night’s meal at a small French Restaurant was quiet with great food at a reasonable price. Dottie’s Coq Au Vin was marvelous.
Yesterday we set out to do Herrod’s, the world’s greatest department store where the claim is made and met that they will get anything the customer asks for. Our four hour visit had us gawking at watches (Dottie’s Wal-Mart special broke) that had more diamonds than we could count, marveling at the world famous “Foods Courts” where we actually saw some people buying things, to the fourth floor animal kingdom where you could buy diamond studded nail clippers to do for your doggie in style. We almost bought a basic pink accessory kit for Louie but we couldn’t remember if he was a girl or a boy. We lunched at the wine bar and ice creamed in the sweet shop feeling that our simple purchases had paid at least half of a week’s salary for one of the thousands of clerks working the mostly sight-seeing crowd.
Knowing that Herrods is not too far from Somerset House and being reminded constantly that our feet were in need of a rest rather than another walk, we opted to taxi what we were certain was a short trip. Our young cabbie showed us the sights of London taking a long around about way to our destination and a $22 fair. Leaving the cab without tipping (which most people don’t do in London anyway) we began our visit of Somerset House.
Listed as an art gallery and center for art students, Somerset House is a huge building that housed the offices of the British Admiralty prior to 1830. Why it was found unsuitable for the Navy’s use couldn’t be explained. It stood vacant for several decades before it became a museum. Rather than plan a run through the whole of Somerset House, we decided on a visit to the Courtauld Galleries and a display of the Courtauld collection of Cezannes’ works. The display complimented a current special display of French Impressionists works that included the work of Manet, Picasso, Renoir, Gauguin, Matisse and others. Seeing a few works of each of these painters made our visit very special and enjoyable. A light rain falling outside convinced us to spend a little time relaxing in the museums wine bar before heading home.
Today the forecaster foretold rain for the day even though the morning started with sunny skies and bright sunshine. Packing our handy plastic rain ponchos, we headed for the underground destination Buckingham Palace and the “Changing of the Guard”. We knew that this is probably the most popular venue in London and that if we wanted to really see the ceremony we would need to arrive early. We arrived so early that we took time to visit St. James Park adjacent to the palace. We strolled through the lovely park, admired the lily laden ponds and basked in a bright sunshine that was quickly being chased away by darkening clouds.
We found a great place at the palace fence where we believed we could see whatever was to happen. We were in place by 9:45 and the changing of the guard takes place at 11:15 each day. Within minutes after we arrived, we noticed that the crowd had thickened to three deep behind us. By 11:00 the crowd had filled the sidewalk and was a dozen deep on the sidewalk on the other side of the street. We were in a prime spot where we could see absolutely everything.
We enjoyed the spectacle of the red-coated guards with their tall shaggy beaver hats marching into the area in front of the palace and directly in front of us. The assembled guards went through a number of time honored moves and formations, one of which had the captain of the guard marching directly toward us with sword in hand. He stopped within five feet of us and our fence lined fellow gawkers, looked us in the eyes and marched back. I had to restrain Dottie who wanted to climb the fence and lay a hug on this beautiful person.
Twenty minutes after the first contingent of guards arrived, a second group of equal size marched in from the opposite direction accompanied by a similarly regaled brass band. After the change of guards, the band formed a semicircle directly in front of us to serenade us with something marchy and loud that sounded great. Three hours after our arrival, we left knowing we had seen it all…..from a ring side seat.
The off again on again sprinkles didn’t dampen our spirits but it did leave us with an appetite for lunch at a pub we had noted on our way to the Palace. Bill had his first “pint” of the trip as we both enjoyed sandwiches with multi-grain “bloomers” if you please. We decided that pub food is really our thing. After having “Bangers and Mash” a couple of nights ago we’ve decided that there’s a whole new world of culinary delights that we want to explore.
Life is getting better by the day,
With Love to all.
Gram and Grampa Bill, Mom and Dad, Dottie and Bill

People Watching

July 23, 2008
A TRAVELER’S OBSERVATIONS OF FELLOW PASSENGERS (aka “People Watching”)
Cruising has changed. At least the cruising this traveler has known over the past almost twenty years has changed. In the past, it was the rare occasion when some thoughtful grandparent took a grand child on a cruise. I always felt a little sorry for the kid who was usually a teenager or often a college aged young adult. Shipboard programs were definitely geared to the retired or near retired traveler. The young people had to make do with older generation talk at dinner and lectures and such designed to entertain granny and gramps. Today things have changed big time.
Granted, the last three cruises have been mid summer; high season for European travelers. Add the nose dive the U. S. dollar has taken in recent months creating a bonanza for families that couldn’t afford to cruise in the past and you have perhaps a new incentive for travelers to live the good life on the high seas resort style. I dropped by the public library in Dover a few weeks ago and read in the London Times that the British Pound passed the U.S. $2.00 mark for the first time in a generation. Add the growth of the Euro against the U. S. dollar to and exchange rate of $1.60 for one Euro and you have cruise ship rates that all of a sudden have fallen into the range of affordable for many who couldn’t afford the pleasure in the past.
And then, in all fairness, the Norwegian Cruise Line has developed a line of marketing that makes “your resort afloat” much more attractive to many than in the past. NCL’s motto of “Freestyle Cruising” has lowered the barrier for those who envisioned a Titanic style activity where folks dressed in tux and gown for dining. The standard for dress now aboard NCL vessels allows anything to be worn in most dining rooms as long as it includes shoes and long pants and any shirt for men and something similar for ladies. One dining room out of eleven requires a dress code that will not allow jeans on men or women in the evening.
So maybe the “new look” in cruising is catching on. Whatever the reason, things have changed; probably for the better for the new crowd of young families that are enjoying cruising on the Baltic this summer.
For the almost seasoned cruise passenger, the change is a little shocking but not so great that one can’t live with it. What “live with it” means is probably something different for each traveler. I saw a couple of my age, a few nights ago, smiling with their hands clasped in front of them as though they wanted to clap as about 50 children, ages 6 to 8, marched down the middle of the hall chanting something like military marchers do. The chanters were in good voice and it was obvious they had practiced their cadence chant and learned to use their loudest voices. It was soooooo cute! The kids were heading for the early show at the “Stardust Theater” where the song and dance troupe was putting on a musical spectacular. When I arrived for the early show, it appeared that there were about 100 youngsters , ages 5 - 10, seated together in one section of the theater. They were obviously having a goodtime. For most shows the kids are not allowed to sit in the front two rows unless accompanied by parents which is rare.
On deck there are hot tubs for kids only, hot tubs for families and hot tubs for adults. One of the two pools is for adults only. The usual buffet that is found on most ships has a section for kids with lower tables and hassock like stools rather than chairs with a children’s buffet close by. One of the bar venues, aptly named “Bar City” has separate viewing rooms opening off of the dance floor where kids can play video games or watch DVDs of movies for the younger set. When a very sophisticated trio specializing in Latin music plays, there are often a dozen or so teens lounged in the room with little kids trying to mimic adults by improvising dance movements on the dance floor that seem right at the moment. Often the dancing toddlers have parents near by who are encouraging their creative efforts.
I like to eat late on cruise ships as do most Europeans. I guess if I ate at 5:30 with the folks from Iowa and Kansas it would be a little quieter. At 9:00 PM it’s not very quiet. For the last two nights there has been an extended family that eats together along with a two year old that likes to exercise his vocal chords while the adults are talking and not paying attention to him. Last night we were two tables away and I observed the passing of the screeching child from one parent to another. I noticed Mother soaking the child’s pacifier in her cocktail. That just seemed to make the screeching louder. Fortunately, I just turned off my hearing aids. I did feel sorry for some of my fellow passengers but many appeared not to mind.
I must admit that with rare exception, as in the case of the screeching kid and a few babies that do their natural crying bit when tired or hungry, the kids on board are unusually polite. The fact that families are traveling together says a lot about parental attitudes that foster well behaved kids. Our American way is more often a case of leaving the kids with grandparents when the parents are going to go on vacation. We can’t seem to have fun when the kids are around. Ship board life is real togetherness. When a family with three toddlers share a single inside cabin, that’s togetherness.
The ship provides a full range of activities for children of all ages with a special section of the ship labeled “no adults allowed”. A cadre of a dozen or more college aged girls spend all day every day making sure that each child on board is having the best of times and the kids seem to love it.
It would be interesting to see how the kids get along in the programs provided. Overheard elevator conversations lead to the acceptance that English is not the universal language of travelers. My penchant for trying to strike up conversations in elevators fails more often than not due to mutual language deficiencies. The kids all learn their marching chants in English but it’s my guess that they do a lot of signing when they want to share the colors in the crayon box. The usual attempt on first night by someone assigned to warm up the crowd by asking where people are from yields the idea that passengers on this series of cruises are from all over.
Differences in nationality leads one to some unfair conclusions in a situation like the one I’m in. I’ve noticed that the “dominant male” in table settings of Italian, Spanish and South American travelers is gifted by our creator with a wonderfully loud voice. He seems assured that every one within six tables wants to know everything that he has to say. This level of decibels is also applicable in elevators, presumably so that those unfortunate enough to be in the elevator next door can hear. When papa, or the one paying the bill, is absent, the “dominant female”, who has been unusually restrained before now takes over the task of entertainment. You don’t even need to look in their direction to tell who Mama is when the gals are chatting it up.
The dominant role in Asian families has a somewhat different tack. When papa speaks he speaks softly. No one eats and everyone listens intently. The younger men at the table tend to look down and stare at their plates when dad is wound up but are quick to make an appropriate remark in support when he finishes. The ladies all smile very nicely and keep whatever they might be thinking to themselves.
The English impress me as not knowing one another at the dinner table. If the dining room was filled with English diners the most prevalent sound with be the clicking of silverware on plates and an occasional soup slurp. While I had the pleasure of dining with an English couple at my assigned table on a recent voyage, and found them very pleasant to chat with, my recollection is that they never spoke to one another. English tend to eat very fast at least those that I’ve eaten with always seemed to be the first to finish with each course.
Americans treat dinner as a social occasion. As an avowed people watcher, I’ve concluded that Americans can be spotted easily in dining room because they’re constantly talking. If there are more than two couples at a table there will probably be more than one conversation going on at all times. Single couples tend to identify the level of affection shared. In the dining room I frequent most often, there are tables with a wall bench seating for two and chair seating on the opposite side for two. When a couple is seated at such a table, which is often, the affectionate ones tend to sit on the same side while the left overs sit across from one another. This may be a defensive measure by the husband who doesn’t want his wife to fork her left-overs onto his plate but more often as not it seems as the best way to sit as far apart as possible. What’s really nice is to see an octogenarian couple sitting on the same side of the table whispering sweet nothings to one another. But then, maybe its just because their hard of hearing.
My favorite dining room watching is when I find a couple that is obviously not married and totally infatuated with one another. The man smiles when he talks and the lady listens attentively with flirtatious glances and an occasional giggle. The exchange continues as whatever food has been served gets cold and the level in the wine bottle diminishes. When they leave it is always holding hands and smiling at one another. That’s what I hope people see when they see my lady and me at dinner, forever.
Lots of love to all,
Grandpa Bill, Dad, Bill and Mr. B

Musings of a Traveler

12 July 2008
The Musings of a Traveler.
For all who have experienced the exasperation of setting the clock ahead an hour each spring when day-light savings time is manifest, it is easy to conceive of the affect upon the traveler heading eastward. Periodically notice is given to reset wristwatches and alarm clocks to the new time zone’s requirement. On this particular cruise of twelve days, our ship manages to cross through three time zones on its voyage from Dover, England to St. Petersburg, Russia causing three nights in six days when all lose an hour’s sleep. And then the ship turns around and returns to Dover providing travelers an extra hour’s sleep every other day. What a wonderful idea. Passengers disembark feeling well rested, given the extra sack time during the last six days, and all go home to report that the cruise was “restful”. Restful for all except those revelers who dance and drink away the night no matter what the time.
For the home bound, the routine of sun up and sun down is one that becomes a part of one’s being that can be taken for granted. The closer home is to the equator, the less the change in the hour of expected sun actions. Traveling to the extremes of the hemispheres introduces some interesting changes. Since this trip is close to the middle of the year and in the northern hemisphere, days are a bit longer than most of the passengers are accustomed. As an example, the daily bulletin on board ship, “Freestyle Daily” (every ship as a cutesy title for its bulletin), reported while in St. Petersburg, Russia, our northern most port, that sunset was scheduled for 11:35 PM and sunrise at 5:16 AM. I recall on our previous circuit, twelve days earlier, noting that sunrise was schedule for 4:20 AM. One actually can read by the light of the “midnight sun” as I learned for the first time in 1989 when friends took me on a 1:00 AM canal boat ride in then Leningrad. In 1997 I recall walking the dog past midnight in Fairbanks, Alaska and watching teams in a local softball league start their game after midnight without any field lights. It’s a wonderful world but kind of strange until you get used to it.
Eating on board a modern cruise liner is an art form. Most passengers react to the abundance of food with gusto and determination. Few seemed to eat as they normally do when at home. But then, home doesn’t have eight to ten restaurants under its roof, all within walking distance even for cripples, with a variety of cuisine to satisfy any and all tastes. The rule of the house is that the passenger gets what he wants, when he wants it, whether he needs it or not. If lobster tail is on the menu, why not order two, or three, or four. Like Bill Clinton mused; he did it because he could. The number of passengers within view each evening who order two or three desserts following each meal is enough to blow one away. In between meals there is a constant offering of wonderful stuff. A grill near the pool on this ship fires up its kitchen at 2:00 PM creating the aroma of barbecued hamburgers and such that has the effect of popcorn cooking in a movie theater. Two hours after lunch is served a line forms for hamburgers and fries with all the trimmings. The question of the day is obvious: WHERE DO THEY PUT IT ALL? This traveler has learned the hard way that he can’t do that. It took me a week to find where they hide the bathroom scales and I dutifully visit it once a day which leads to breakfasts consisting solely of fruit, lunches of salads and dinners with only one appetizer and one entree. It’s a challenge that few seem capable of conquering.
BINGO With all the wonderful things to do on board a cruise ship, it continues to amaze me the numbers who are attracted to the daily Bingo game. It costs big bucks to participate but it is something one can do in a seated position that doesn’t take any great mental exercise or stress. Maybe that’s what a cruise vacation is all about; but Bingo? By the size of the pay outs, I imagine the game is probably one of the ship’s biggest money makers. But then, if one wins the “big one” one can pay off the credit card bill when it comes.
On Board shopping seems to attract hordes of folks no matter what is being sold. Having the privilege of doing the same cruise twice now I have become aware that each of the twelve days at sea is like the twelve days of Christmas. Each has it’s special sale. We have watches, jade, silver and gold chains made from spools of chain of different patterns and sizes, booze at wonderful discounts but you can’t drink it on the ship ( If you get sloppy you have to pay dearly for the privilege), and oh yes - paintings. Why folks would pay big bucks for a cruise and air fare to get there and then spend a part of each day attending an “art auction” to buy “some of the truly great art of our life time”. They do. Maybe it’s the free champagne that always flows at such affairs.
The bigger the ship, the greater the number of places to listen to music and drink, or maybe its drink and listen to music. Each venue has its specialty in music. This is all fine and good, except that the world of entertainment knows in its heart that people won’t come unless the performance is going to be something special. So we have “sock hops” featuring music from the 50s and 60s, or “Latin Night”, or Country Western Night”, “Waltz Away the Night” and such. The observation I have made, being an aficionado of entertainment of any sort, is that no matter what the evening’s fare is announced to be, the music is always the same. Dance combos play like they only know a limited number of songs and that’s what they play, no matter what the Entertainment Director has decided to call the evenings fare. Have you ever watched people try to line dance to “The Girls from Ipanema”?
The nightly “show” in the ship’s big theater has its ups and downs but people attend whatever is showing and always clap loudly at the end. The best shows are always those performed by the cast of boy and girl singers and dancers. These kids work hours to bring their performances to a finely honed point of perfection. The energy exhibited alone is worth the price of admission which by the way is free. The shows always try to capture the unique talents of the troupe and exploit them to the fullest. This troupe has a couple of male dancers who do marvelous forward flips that always miraculously get worked into the show. The girl dancers are all lovely and skinny and are always costumed to take advantage of their loveliness about which no man in the audience dare complain. To please the ladies, I suppose, all dances involving male dancers guarantee a couple of times in the show where the male dancers turn their back sides to the audience and wiggle their bottoms. There must be a purpose there that escapes me but it’s a sure thing it will happen. Beyond the troupe’s performance, ships always have a juggler, a magician, a comedian and a musical performer of some sort. On this cruise we have a marimba player who can also play a half dozen other instruments that are worked into his act. We do have a male vocalist but he probably isn’t very good because the show band plays so loudly backing him up that it’s hard to know if he’s good or not. Girl singers are my favorite but none is aboard on this cruise.
The daily bulletin of each ship I’ve ever sailed on always has an interesting announcement that sounds like I should see what’s happening. The announcements are always the same: “Friends of Bill W” and “Friends of Dorothy”. The announcement usually reads that the “friends” will meet in one of he bars on board about 5:00 PM. I now know for certain what these friend groups are all about. Friends of Bill W are members of Alcoholics Anonymous. Why they meet in a bar I’m not sure although I noticed yesterday that this cruise’s Friends of Bill W just switched their meeting place to the Chapel. Not many ships come equipped with a Chapel but this one does. Friends of Dorothy clarified its mission on the first day of this cruise by adding the letters GLBT to the announcement which I was told stands for Gay, Lesbian, Bi-sexual and Transgender. I guess I won’t bother with visiting the Friends of Dorothy although the name certainly intrigues me.
All of the above leads one to the conclusion that maybe it’s not wise to spend too much time on cruise ships and away from home. My traveling friend Marty is a good example. He proudly tells all, whether they ask him or not, that this is his 53rd cruise in less than four years. Since the only thing Marty ever finds to talk about is how many times he has been in the port we are currently visiting, maybe too much of any one thing can really be too much, no matter how wonderful it sounds. On the other hand, it’s nice to have Marty around when a tour guide in a new town is needed.
Love and kisses to all,
Grandpa Bill, Dad, Bill and Mr. B