axmk.com : trans-atlantic w-e cruise 2007

About the cruise... We arrived in Miami & hopped a cab to a charming Art Deco hotel, the Richmond, and settled into a surprisingly spacious (the 30s-era hotels are notorious for tiny rooms) room overlooking the ocean, with the waxing moon reflected in the hotel's long stretch of swimming and decorative pools. The backyards of these hotels remind me of home -- narrow & deep -- and from our 6th floor window we could see the landscaped pools of all the neighboring hotels.

In the morning, we wandered down the boardwalk to a lovely old hotel and enjoyed a leisurely breakfast with the paper on their deep elevated veranda. The pool was lovely, but the Atlantic was lovelier -- warmer than should have been possible, and gently breaking at a sandbar about 30 yards from shore. The water was crystal clear & the sand completely free of debris -- manmade or natural. For the first time ever, I wanted to spend more time in the water than Howard.

The next day we moseyed down to the port & hopped on the Regency Seven Seas "Voyager", captained by Knut Johansen. [Friends in the know will note with hilarity the name shared with eine kleine eisbar in the Berlin Zoo.] At dusk, we set sail with a toot of the horn.

Our cabin was spacious & lovely; both How & I appreciated the space efficiency accomplished by the designers (we both, however, felt the tub, in addition to the shower, was excessive.) Our position on the starboard side caught the sunrise, sun almost all day, and the moon all night. By the second night of the cruise, the moon had waxed to fullness.

I settled into a rhythm as we proceeded eastward, advancing an hour in time every other day; our butler Girish would deliver fresh squeezed orange juice & hot water while we lolled in bed behind the curtain. Up to enjoy the juice in our luxury bathrobes & slippers, and to struggle to make fresh-brewed Peets. Off to walk the track on the top deck, listening to a Harry Potter audiotape borrowed from friend Betsy as I paced off -- 7 laps to a mile. Still listening, down to the exercise room for 20 minutes on the orbital machine. Back to the room to shower & dress, in time for lunch. The afternoons we read and napped until tea at 4 pm. More napping & reading followed, usually in our room, where Girish would bring us canapés. If possible, we roused ourselves for dinner, followed by a movie either in their little theater or our room. I believe I managed in this first week to read & watch 6 month's worth of books & movies, crossing the titles off the "to do" list on my PDA with glee.

Much was made online of the cruise line's decision shortly after we booked to make all beverages included -- including all alcohol. I have to admit it did change my drinking habits -- I am not accustomed to champagne before tea-time, white AND red wine with every dinner, and a cordial before bed (they stock your "liquor cabinet" with your preferences). I had to struggle to keep consuming my customary 1.5 liters of water a day, and I was disappointed to see their reliance on plastic bottled water. Even the ice water served at dinner out of a pitcher was poured out of a bottle minutes before. This seemed enormously inefficient at sea.

One late afternoon, Howard & I were relaxing on our balcony, reading, chatting, and sipping champagne. Only one time previously had I seen any sign of life on another balcony within eye- or ear-shot of ours- - a foot resting on the railing. Past cruises have yielded neighbors who made their presence known by smoking cigars or cigarettes, drinking with (loud) friends, and hollering into their cabins -- presumably to their hard-of-hearing companions. So this was a peculiar luxury.

Howard suddenly leapt out of his seat & squeaked "Dolphins! Dolphins!" while jabbing his finger slightly forward of our deck. And there they were! With the constantly shifting landscape of the sea's surface, they were suprisingly easy to see as they rocketted along below the surface, racing toward or away from the ship, not along with it. When they leapt, they looked as small as the kippers they served at breakfast; even though we were only on the 7th deck, that means they were about 70 feet away.

I also noticed a phenomenon I had not noticed before -- deep swaths of bubbles alongside the ship. In the right light, they give you an ability to see below the water's surface, probably to a depth of more than a meter. As entrancing as watching a flickering fire. I was surprised at the low swells we encountered all the way across the ocean. Somehow I was imagining something closer to "A Perfect Storm" but it was quite peaceful. No seabirds.

Another morning, Howard & I attempted to play paddle tennis. Paddle tennis employs regular tennis balls, but a perforated wooden paddle that deadens the movement enough to permit a small court -- about 25 x 50. This difference permitted us to play more or less as equals -- especially adding in the frustrating effects of the wind and the ship's motion!

Anyone who cruises knows that a fixture is "art auctions" where you can buy "priceless" works of "art" for a "song." It's a big moneymaker for the lines, and we avoid them like the plague, but sometimes you can catch good lectures designed to lure you into purchasing. So, I checked out one on Dali, my dad's fave artist. Did you know that Walt Disney and Salvador Dali collaborated on a short animation called "Destino"? Dali created about 25 water colors for the film and a Disney animator assisted with a complete set of storyboards -- they even recorded an orchestrated version of the song that was the film's inspiration. But it was shelved in the late 40s & forgotten. Roy Disney discovered the work in a vault in the late 90s & with outside investment finished the project. Think of a surreal, dream-like "Fantasia" and you get the drift -- it was lovely & remarkable.

We passed the rock of Gibraltar in the middle of the second week. It looks rather like a shoe, with the short toe pointing westward. At least at 1 in the morning, this is what it looks like, after you've had a couple drinks and are shivering in the cold wind. The captain made no announcements, however, when we sailed through the Bermuda Triangle -- guess he wanted to keep that quiet!

Funchal, Madiera: a lovely city on what looks like a lovely island, though Howard & I are both mystified by the development on a place so remote. Madiera means "wood" in Portuguese but the island is heavily developed. In a quite charming way -- Funchal grows up a large hillside to meet an old fortress built there in the distant past. We took an aerial tram up to the top, then rode one of their wicker "sleds" back down. Kids -- do not try this at home. Two people get into a wooden sled with greased rails. Two guides jump on the back and off you go -- Howard calculated 13 miles per hour average. The guides slow & steer using their weight & the thick soles of their boots -- replaceable -- that reminded me of an artist's gum eraser. Would not pass OSHA standards at home, even under the Bush administration. Exhilarating! See the video of our descent.

Lanzarote, The Canary Islands: a peculiar port of call, and an indication of the advanced age of the cruise line's typical clientele, where everyone takes tours rather than moseying around on their own. This is a volcanic wasteland, not unlike the Big Island of HI, but without enough rain to make weeds grow. They actually rely heavily on dew for what little agriculture exists. And this is a resort why?

Agadir, Morocco: we had the same reaction to Agadir, our first port of call in Morocco. We guess that British & German vacationers are so desperate to get out of the rain & cold that they'll go anywhere hot. It was peculiar to be in an Islamic country, not only for the obvious reasons related to our "war on terror", but because I am completely insensitive to any cultural differences. We were assured that, being a resort, Agadir residents were quite cosmopolitan & forgiving of bear shoulders & knees, but most of the people we saw were in traditional garb. My only comfort point was that the main language is French, in which I am passing literate.

Casablanca, Morocco: Howard & I have figured out where old mopeds go to die -- Morocco. The streets are filled with belching, screeching, falling-apart mopeds. Ick. The medina in Cas is much cooler than the one in Agadir. Well, since Agadir's was essentially a soviet-style concrete block building, this isn't saying much, but in fact it is the old part of the city, narrow streets, rickety looking buildings (none over 3 stories), all whitewashed, which lends it real charm.

Malaga, Spain: we take our first "bus turistica" around this lovely city; afterwards I try to find a church with a cool crypt covered with sculls & crossbones, but fail.

Valencia, Spain: The America's Cup trials are going on in Valencia right now, so we headed down to the recently rebuilt port to check things out. An amazing bit of urban renewal, very nicely done, and quite interesting as an event (though no sailing was happening this day). We both wonder, however, if the area will sustain interest after the event, actually becoming integrated into Valencia's residential life.

Final destination, Barcelona: we rented an apartment straddling the boundary of the highly desirable "Old Town" and "Born" parts of the city -- the oldest architecture & densely populated with restaurants, shops, and landmarks, equally geared toward residents & tourists. The apartment was on the 4th floor (walkup -- erk) of a 6-story building overlooking the Place des Olles. Swallows were the first sign of life in the morning; then around 10 the cafes started to set up. Shops, too, around this time. Lots of foot traffic, occasional bicycles, motorcycles & mopeds, endlessly entertaining people watching. A fountain made a good meeting point. Around 8 pm people would start queuing up for the hot restaurant Cal Pep; shops closed; and the party grew in intensity 'til after midnight, when it waned. And this is on weeknights.

I could have spent the whole week just leaning over our balcony or wandering around our neighborhood, savoring the medieval architecture, the narrow streets, the bits of the old roman city preserved in newer buildings. Some highlights:

parrots in the park, sounding like those at home,
lots of GSDs (and no dog is neutered or spayed),
the gorgeous mosaics at Park Guell & others,
"discovering" Gaudi,
a glass of wine & cheeses in a cavernous bar set into a windowless medieval structure of vaults & brick - fascinating & creepy at the same time (Va de Vi -- which has a sister restaurant in Concord, CA, or something equally dull),
the lush green cloisters at the Cathedral, complete with a resident family of geese,
excellent exhibit of Roman ruins with computer renditions morphing a recreation to what you see today.

And one evening, we stood in line at Cal Pep, and I ate That Which Shall Not Be Named:

clams
calamari
itty bitty batter-fried sardines
raw tuna

Who'd have guessed? It took a half bottle of good champagne & the better half of a bottle of red wine, but I did it!

Here's an "advert" for the toboggan ride on Madiera, about 50 seconds, then below is the actual seat-front footage of our descent!