Sea Day 1 of 2 to Roatan (island off the coast of Honduras)

My back is NOT happy. I’m quite sure it’s the bed. It’s too soft.  MUCH too soft. After much complaining, they put some kind of semi-rigid mattress underneath, which presumably was supposed to make a difference.  Needless to say, it has not.  Even ?three ?four massages have only offered temporary respite.  And I’m getting through our stash of Paracetamol pretty fast.  Last night, I went to the little shop to try and get some sort of pain relieving cream. They used to stock Ibuleve. Sold out.  Paracetamol? Sold out. Aspirin? Guess, go on, I dare you. Nothing whatsoever, except after sun. Not even bite cream.  In. The. Tropics.  Whoever is in charge of stock control needs to be quietly taken outside and shot. This is not kind.  Never mind the average age of the passengers, even crew get headaches!

So I went back to the cabin and put an appeal on this cruise’s private passengers’ Facebook group! Sure enough, within half an hour, there was a message in my Inbox, telling me it was outside their cabin ready for me to collect.  How lovely is that?! Now, all I have to do is figure out who she is, so I can thank her in person!  In case you’re interested, it’s Morrison’s own brand, but it’s still Diclofenac, so that’ll do nicely.  Although I’m starting to think it’s a tear, not a strain. Still, we’ll see how it goes.

As noted at the end of the last missive, I have lost all understanding of time.  So far, on this cruise, we have lost/gained 4 hours getting to Bermuda, then another one on the way to Florida. Then another one to New Orleans.  Then we got one or two back going to Barbados (?!), then we lost them again to go to Panama and Costa Rica.  The clocks changed again last night, but I’ve given up trying to keep track. So has my phone, for that matter.  I just ask Dad to look at his watch! And hope he’s keeping more on top of things that I am.  How the crew cope with it, I cannot begin to imagine. Whoever designed this route must have been high as the proverbial kite at the time.  I don’t think a cat would have drawn a course this daft. Try and follow it on a map, it’s insane!

For longer-standing readers, the name Roatan may ring a distant bell. That’s the port that was cancelled when we had to stay in Los Angeles for an extra day, due to the immigration foul up that cost the local Head of Homeland Security his job. And all the people yelled in Reception about how badly they wanted to go there.  Remember that?! Well, now, finally, c. 12 years later (was it 2011?), we might finally find out what all the fuss was about.

Sadly, tomorrow will be three weeks to Southampton.  The countdown has already begun for some. People are messaging me from home to arrange meeting up – I think they think there will be presents! Ha ha!  Bills are arriving, MOT reminders, even mortgage renewal quotations. Steady on, people, this is still my holibobs, do you mind?! Talking of which, need to stop nattering and plough through some emails.  I’m sure SOME of them actually require my attention.

Sea Day 2. Blinked and missed it. Can’t have been very exciting! Oh, but dad and I earwigged the quiz while we played Quirkle and got 16 out of 20! Mind you, table 3 (NOT the BWAW) got 19 out of 20, so there’s that.  Amanda does ask easy questions, but she still hasn’t learned to pronounce the answers correctly! We have to ask her to spell words, because she simply cannot read them out properly. She asked what an “entomonologist” studies. When she was made to spell it, it turns out she meant entomologist. But it could have been etymologist, or entomogenous (although that’s an adjective, not a noun). She has a clear voice and a decent microphone technique, she’s just not very bright! We all found the questions very easy, but she had been up all night picking questions she thought were quite hard! Oh dear.

Afterthought about Costa Rica. Peacocks.  They are very large, close up. I’ve always assumed they were flightless, partly due to their size and partly due to the apparent uselessness of their eyes as feathers to provide lift – if the air can get through gaps, that’s not going to work, I thought.  Terrifyingly, they are not! They only do short hops/flaps, rather like chickens, but when you see one of those coming towards your head… Bird phobia fully reinstated.

Roatan

Oh, NOW I get it. Roatan is quite possibly the ultimate Perfect Caribbean Island™. White beaches, turquoise, clear waters, plenty of thick rainforest and wildlife, and heat and humidity that even the Devil would find difficult to take.  And not a breath of wind to relieve it.  Everyone on deck moved their sunbeds into the shade, it was so fierce! Roatan is home to the world’s Second Largest coral reef, and people come here to dive the reef and the plentiful wrecks that ran aground on it and sank over the centuries. 

But we don’t dive. Nor do we like lying around on sandy beaches. And the pier walk looked pretty epic. So we stayed on board. Those who went ashore loved it, but my curiosity was fully sated by looking out of the window.

Roatan is the first of four ports in four days, so if the paragraphs get a bit perfunctory, forgive me, I’m probably knackered.

Belize City. 

I’ve wanted to visit Belize ever since I was taught that the UK purchases their entire Cavendish banana crop every year. Nowadays, they do allow some other countries to have some, but we still get ours either from here or Costa Rica.

We must be quite far north of our recent stops, because the temperature has dropped at least 7 degrees overnight. Today is overcast and 23 C. Still humid as all getout, mind you. 

This is a tender port. Cruise ships aren’t allowed to dock. In fact, we are moored so far out, we can barely see the town/ land! I’m not sure how the people of the private island inbetween us and the shore feel about us looming outside their windows, but we’re smaller than the Celebrity Constellation which is moored roughly a mile off our port side. Apparently, it takes 20-30 minutes just to get ashore. Tendering ashore is usually fine, as long as the water is calm. Here, today, it ain’t. We have white horses.  Dad and I took one look out the window and agreed we’re not getting on a small catamaran in that! Catamarans float on the surface, so are more prone to both pitching and rolling waves. A ‘proper’ boat keel cuts through the water, and is therefore less prone to throwing its passengers about every time it meets the tiniest bump in the road. Also, the faster it goes, the more the back goes down into the water.  But the boats being used were cats, called Belize Spirit and Yura respectively, so nope.  Curiously, both cats wore Diamonds International sponsorship adverts on their roofs, so one would imagine their shop might have been open, even though today is Sunday.  But we don’t buy diamonds, either!

Those who went ashore found that the water-based tours had been cancelled, due to said choppy waters.  Those who went on the trolley train (which was our plan), said it was very pleasant, but it’s Sunday and the entire place is SHUT. Not even market stalls on the quayside. Someone posted some pics on Facebook of some buildings and a statue they saw on their “stroll”, but it is NOT a place to come to for a simple tourist, and definitely not for anyone of limited mobility.  I’m sure it’s a bit more inviting and interesting when it’s not a Sunday, but, thanks to P&O, we’ll never know!

Still, the seas are turquoise and the sun shone for a while, so it was a pleasant enough view!

Tomorrow and Tuesday are Mexico – Costa Maya and Cozumel respectively.

NORA: YOUR ESSAY DEADLINE IS TUESDAY. I have received nothing to proofread yet…

Valentine’s Day 2024.  Happy Valentine’s Day to those that celebrate it. I don’t.  I don’t celebrate the days of many Christian martyrs, come to that!

Puerto Limon, Costa Rica. Been here, done that. Didn’t get off. I think we’ve just been overdoing it and our systems are rebelling.  So we both needed a Slow Day.

As I sit and type this after dinner (roast lamb and mint sauce), I am handed my second rose of the evening.  The first, a full long-stemmed red rose from my cabin steward; the second, a shorter one from one of the drinks waiters! I do better on board for flowers than I ever have done at home!

Update on the Canal: we went through the older, smaller locks. Of course we did. Someone misunderstood the talk given beforehand!  We watched it on the telly last night – both parts. He clearly is not from an engineering background – or a speaking one, come to that. He showed us every graph from the three or four different feasibility studies and economic justification plans! He barely touched on the pioneering engineering solutions they created to solve the various issues they faced.  Which is probably what most of the audience were interested in. People don’t travel halfway around the world to look at the graphs of expected usage vs. capacity. They want to see the structures and mechanics of building new locks in the middle of a working canal. But, hey, I’m sure he was cheap, so P&O can rest easy. 

We have very strict BOB times, as we have a time slot allocated by the ports.  Think about an aeroplane takeoff slot.  We have them too, but ours are less flexible because we need the tide to be right! MANY times on this cruise, we have left late – on two occasions, we were still stationary at 10pm, having been due to depart at 6. This is extremely exasperating, because we rush to get back on time, and then sit and stare at all the stuff we could have still been doing for two or three hours.  Often we could have eaten ashore, somewhere local, which is usually fun.  We never get an explanation or apology, but it’s usually a medical issue, whereby the ship and the shore are arguing the toss about whether or not a person can be disembarked at this location – negotiating with their insurers, finding their stuff and packing it up, locating their passports, their spouses, doing the necessary offloading paperwork, hospital admission forms, ambulances, etc.  It’s a very slow process. 

But today, it wasn’t us that was late leaving, for a change. It was the Saga Ruby Princess that was moored next to us.  They were probably due to leave at about 5pm. But when I got into the cabin, Dad was counting, and he was up to 67.  It seems that several of their excursion buses had not returned, and he was counting passengers still strolling down the pier to get back on board.  There were a LOT of officers on the quayside, looking at their watches and glaring down the pier towards the land.  We sat there and watched what we thought were the last stragglers.  But the final count was somewhere in the region of 196.  They had got to cast off time with 200 passengers unaccounted for! THAT is the stuff of nightmares for a cruise captain and crew!  They eventually set off well after 6pm, and, when we’d finished laughing our heads off, we went to dinner, just after we, too, set sail.

Two sea days to come. Bliss.

I am now very confused as regards the time and date. Happy Birthday, Angie and Aicha! I don’t know if I’m late or early or what. But have a nice day!

Update on Colon:

After I had blogged (about 3pm), we checked the Horizon and found that our BOB time was 7.30pm. This is unusually late for a P&O departure.  Even more so, as we had pegged it overnight and docked at 1am, in order to disembark someone who was in rather urgent need of medical intervention.  Which meant that we were woken up by the lack of movement, and therefore needed a lie-in to recover. It’s very hard work, all this enjoying yourself!

So we decided to venture ashore and have a look, after all. We were told there was a supermarket near the ship, and a few bits and pieces would not have gone amiss, so we had a stroll.  The first thing we encountered was Immigration.  A row of tables laden with computers and wires, and three or four bored-looking officials basking in some fairly enthusiastic air con in a warehouse/ hangar. They had loos, but no seating, so we got our passports stamped and kept going. There was a handy shortcut through the Duty Free Shop, which helped cut the corner, and out we popped, onto a road that was closed to traffic, and we pootled through the breeze to the end of the warehouse. Where someone had constructed a shopping mall. VERY new and shiny, at least half the shops weren’t even taken yet, but with more security guards than you can shake a stick at.  This is probably due to the fact that the entire mall is Duty Free. It’s called Colon 2000. All the jewellery stores were upstairs (makes it harder to get away from a robbery). Downstairs was mostly discount brands and outlet-type shops. Nothing we wanted. And no seating. We arrived at a crossroads. To the left, was an ice cream parlour with outdoor seating, overlooking the water, and to the right, was, allegedly a five minute walk to the supermarket. So we parted ways. Dad went for a sit down and I went for a wander.

Even taking into account that I’m not the fastest walker in the world, and very few countries bother to signpost supermarkets, it took me considerably more than five minutes to find and get to.  Interestingly for a port that welcomes several cruise ships a day, virtually no one spoke any English at all.  Now, I don’t travel the globe expecting to be met by locals who speak like Paddington Bear, of course not, but I usually find that, particularly near the touristy bits/cruise ship docks, most people I encounter have a basic level of English, enough to be helpful, give directions and answer a few basic questions. Here? Nope. Only the security guards.  No one else. Not a syllable. Anyway, after asking directions from someone who wasn’t from here either (!), and getting two, apparently conflicting, answers, I found my way over broken tarmac, collapsed brickwork, chained off car parks and past the graffiti and closed shutters, to the supermarket.  Praise be for efficient air con. 

This was the most ridiculously cheap supermarket I may ever have visited.  Even the expensive imported stuff was cheap.  Duracell batteries? Doublemint chewing gum?  No more expensive that the local brands. Likewise Lays (Walkers) crisps, M&Ms and Heinz Ketchup.  I stocked up on crisps and peanuts – we never buy the ones on board because they are so eye-wateringly expensive.  The store was probably a cross between a Homebase and a Sainsburys. They had masonry paint and a toy department and the most enormous bags of stuff on the shelves.  Ever been to a Makro or a Cash and Carry?  Laundry detergent in refill bags so large, I couldn’t lift one off the shelf.  5 litres? Maybe more.  Everything was VAST.  They also sold household stuff, like the bigger Tescos do – disposable barbecues, ironing boards, dog leads.  The only thing I priced that I did NOT consider cheap was the shower curtains.  The cheapest were about eight quid, and they weren’t even very pretty designs. 

Anyway, paid for my purchases 15 minutes before closing time, and bid a tearful farewell to the air con in Super 99.  When I came out, I realised why my directions had seemed confusing.  Where I had stopped to ask for help was in the middle of one side of a square block of buildings. One lady pointed one way and one lady pointed the other. Because the entrance was literally on the opposite side from where I was. So I went back the other way! In so doing, I may have visited a souvenir shop and purchased the obligatory tshirt and fridge magnet.  Ahem.  Walking back around the other way was much more pleasant, because it was along a continuation of the posh frontage of the Duty Free Mall of earlier.  It was also shorter.  I found dad in no time, and went to join the queue for the World’s Slowest Ice Cream Servers ™ inside the Gelateri.  A very nice man kept my place in the queue while I had a sit down, and then he made the lady in front of him let me go first!  Very sweet of him.  The ice cream was divine, when it finally materialised.  And, again, not expensive. About the same as from an ice cream van in the UK. Way cheaper than Dessert MK, for the Neotians. Oddly, they specialised in sundaes made with fresh cookies, which were under heated lights at one end of the counter while the ice creams were at the other end (over 20 flavours), with the till inbetween.  What with the air con, I dread to think what their leccy bill comes to!

We then tried to return to the ship. Which we were sitting looking at.  As the Rotterdam had just arrived on the evening tide and moored up next to us, and was beginning to disgorge its thousands of Americans (it is a Holland America ship with at least four more decks than us), discretion seemed the better part of valour, and we left.  However, between us and the Aurora was a fenced off construction area.  We literally had to walk back through the Duty Free Mall and then back down the length of the two Immigration warehouses, then back through the length of those warehouses, to get back to the gangplank.  Needless to say, Dad had to have a sit down halfway.  Thank heavens for the English-speaking and decent security guards, who offered him the only seat in existence.  Not like the girls in the shop. They had put the shutters down, and when we knocked and asked them to let us use the shortcut again, for Dad’s sake, they point blank refused.  Unnecessarily unkind.  I don’t like spiteful people or prejudiced people and these two girls were both.  I will be writing to their proprietors. 

So we’ve mentioned run down, and we’ve mentioned construction sites.  What I haven’t mentioned is that there were virtually no people or cars.  Those who ventured further into town came back using words like derelict, war torn, bombed out, etc. It isn’t really war damaged. It’s just VERY run down here. Apparently, they are working to improve the whole town, which they have started with the cruise dockside, but apparently, they have moved everybody out while they do it! Hence all the neglect and unrepaired damage.  Now, granted, part of the desolation was due to the fact that we were in a Christian country on a Sunday (thanks, P&O), so smaller shops and, unfortunately, both the pharmacies I passed, were closed, but the entire place seemed to be a work in progress.  Hence why the P&O excursions all headed out of town at the first opportunity!

As regards accessibility, as long as you stick to the mall near the water, the paving is as smooth as a baby’s bum, but further afield, you’ll need to walk in the road to get even the impression of a smooth surface.  They have VERY high kerbs, and none of them have dips.  There are one or two ramps to get you from down to up and back again, but they’re fairly few and far between.  And, unless you want an ice cream, there is NOWHERE, and I mean nowhere, to sit down.  Not even a bollard or flower bed to perch on for a breather.  This is NOT an easy place for those with impaired mobility of any level. I dread to think how the visually impaired would cope.

Once we had napped/ attempted to recover, we joined Ian and Lesley for the Syndicate Quiz. We gave up for a while, but we decided we didn’t want our enjoyment blighted by the Buggers Who Keep Winning, so we gave it another go.  We didn’t do badly. I think we ended up with 11 out of 20. Bearing in mind that at least three tables didn’t make it to double figures, that was pretty respectable. Even the BWKW only got 15 out of 20! They still won, of course, but we were pleased enough. Although if the quiz lady had been able to pronounce Haydn correctly, that would have been nice!

There is a very adorable little trend on board, of couples wearing matching outfits or as near as possible.  They’re so cute!

Today was the Panama Canal.  This was a half transit. This means it’s just a jaunt for cruise passengers to say they’ve done it.  We entered from the north end, went through the Gatun Locks (I’m told we used the new set, not the old ones – don’t know why, we’re small enough to use the older ones), cruised around the lake in the middle for a bit, and then came back out through the same Gatun Locks and northern entrance.  Much muttering on the Facebook page this evening about the eco-dreadfulness of spending so much money and fuel on this. 

The person doing the commentary through the canal knew precisely ZERO about the Canal, and Dad was very unimpressed with his performance.  We once had the most amazing commentator, who was a fount of knowledge.  Apparently, P&O don’t pay speakers for actually knowing what they’re talking about anymore.  The same man is advertised as giving a talk tomorrow morning about the history of P&O.  His advert reads, “Recently, P&O Cruises celebrated its 200th Anniversary, tracing its roots back to 1822…” No, it didn’t. It had its 175th Anniversary in 2012. It was founded in 1837 and is the world’s oldest passenger cruise line.  As only twelve years have elapsed since, I might venture to suggest that, using simple mathematics, we haven’t experienced 25 years.  It may have FELT like 25 years, but it was actually only twelve.  We know this because (a) I wrote a piece for Cruise International Magazine about the anniversary and history of the line, and (b) we were on board for the celebrations.  FFS.  Unlikely to be leaping out of bed to attend that one tomorrow morning. I mean, how hard can it be? Google is everyone’s friend, these days.  And Google got the date right. Yes, I checked.

5th Feb was a sea day, mercifully! We were shattered.  This day entailed mostly naps. Happy birthday, Oded!

Tuesday was Curaçao.  We’ve been here before, and we both remembered it fondly, and were looking forward to seeing it again.  Once again, the heat and humidity were off the scale, although there was some cloud, so it didn’t seem to hit quite as hard.  Even dad was willing to venture outside!

However, P&O had found a cheaper parking space than the one we used to use.  This put us in an area that I think was called Kura.  On the “wrong” side of the Queen Emma Bridge from town. This meant a fair walk down to the ferry, or further to the bridge, itself, to cross over.  When we got to the ferry, the driver was having a nap and refused to take us across! We found out LATER that he was not obliged to if the bridge was closed/crossable.  But at the time we were just hot and exasperated. There was a bar on the opposite side of the road, so we crossed over for a drink and a sit down while we contemplated our next move. We were greeted at The Captain bar (which I think is a local chain – I’ve seen similar signage elsewhere recently) with the words, “Go away, we’re closed”.  Charming! We asked why and he said he doesn’t open til 4.30 because he’s Dutch and doesn’t like working hard.  Well, if you’re a barman and opening two diet coke bottles is too tiring, perhaps this is not the best line of work for you?! Anyway, we had a sit down anyway – he could hardly stop us! – and then staggered back up the hill to the port entrance and downhill to the gangplank and then uphill to get back on board. Most of the rest of the day/evening was sleep. I didn’t even go to dinner, because I was too tired to chew. 

For those coming here after us, you need to check the flag flying at the town end of the bridge. If it’s orange, it means that the bridge may open, but only for 10 minutes at a time. And, yes, you can ride it while it does.  The ferry is not obligated to run during an orange flag.  If the flag is blue, that means it is going to open and stay open for 45 minutes, which means the ferry HAS to run. What happens after nightfall , when you can’t see the flag, was never made clear to us.

Upsides:

(1) tomorrow is Aruba, and we aren’t planning to get off anyway, so that will give us some recovery time. 

(2) I can confirm that the suntan lotion I purchased, with insect repellent incorporated into it, definitely does work. I know this because I forgot to put on any in Curaçao, and I have some ENORMOUS bites on my legs now! For those who may be interested, it is called Malibu Daily Defense (sic).  It’s only SPF15, but that suffices for even my pale skin for several hours, without the need to reapply (assuming I’ve remembered to apply in the first place).  And I haven’t been bitten up until now so the repellent aspect works well.

Wednesday = Aruba. 

I needed a Slow Day today, so I didn’t make it to lunch until about 3pm. Thank heavens for all day service in the canteen! Fortunately, the waiters make a tremendous fuss of Dad if I’m not around, so I know he’s being looked after if I’m otherwise engaged.

Aruba update from looking out of the window: The extraordinary pink shopping centre that resembles the Neasden Temple is still here and still very pink. The bar opposite that used to have a cow on the roof is also still here. We’re moored right next to it. I’m not sure if the cow is still there, though, as it was round the other side, facing the street. I wonder if the owner continues to refuse to install a router? He used to have a sign up that said, “We don’t have wifi – talk to each other!”. 

Muzak update: Rocketman on a flute with saxophone solos – nope nope nope. Careless Whisper on the harp – meh. Bearable but odd.  Adding a saxophone at the end, which made it sound exactly like the original was even weirder. Because the harp kept going!  

For those paying more attention that I have been, Martinique was the halfway point of the cruise. We are now on the downhill bit. 

Cartagena, Colombia. Now, concentrate.  There are seven Springfields in America, and the writers of the Simpsons always refused to say which one was the inspiration for The Simpsons’ town. That’s amateur numbers. There are THIRTY, that’s THREE-ZERO places in the world called Cartagena. And more with Cartegna as part of a longer name.  We’ve been to several before, including the one in Spain that was the Carthage of Roman history.  This one was new to us.

Looking out the window, it was immediately clear that Cartegna is a very successful city. Skyscrapers filled the skyline, and the whole thing looked a bit like a graphic equaliser readout.  However, nestled behind them (well away from us!), is a UNESCO World Heritage Site – the Old Town.  This is a lovely old walled city, built to protect the financial success from the pirates of the area, who had a tendency to pop ashore and nick it all. Said financial success was built on two products: gold and slaves.

Small aside on modern parlance: Virtue signalling. I hate virtue signalling. It’s nonsense, and a thorough waste of time and electricity.  For those who are unfamiliar with the term, Virtue Signalling is where you say something to show that you are a decent, lovely person.  Much along the lines of Ardal O’Hanlon’s “Down with this sort of thing”, but without nearly as much import.  Things like, “you didn’t share that message about hating cancer, so you must therefore love cancer and don’t care a jot for people who have it”. Like I say, manifest nonsense, that means that some feel they have to virtue signal, to show they’re not a monster. Something like, “although I don’t share messages on Facebook about it, I just want to make it clear that I really do not like cancer, and want to send my support to anyone touched by it”.  Fatuous nonsense.

The reason for this mini-rant? Well, P&O is cutting corners right, left and centre, as you know, and one of the things that went first was the paper Port Guides.  ALLEGEDLY, they are available for free on the ship’s gratis intranet, but I haven’t found them yet!  Now, granted, they were riddled with errors, spelling mistakes, downright untruths and often were as much use as a chocolate fire guard, but it’s the thought that counts! It gave us a map (of sorts)(of varying reliability and usefulness – like the one that didn’t show the shuttle bus stop), and a vague idea of the currency, language and history of the place we were being let loose in. Dad and I have kept them. We have a HUGE folder full at home!  But it’s no use if we visit somewhere we’ve never been before. Such as, say, Cartegna in Colombia.

I have, however, found a website, called Cruise Crocodile. It is still in its infancy, and is buried under roughly one million adverts and pop-ups, but when you get past them, it’s actually got some rather useful port guides, and one of them was for Cartegna, Colombia. It gives the history of the Old Town (built in 1553 by a Spaniard who named it after his home town).  That it became one of the wealthiest places in the Caribbean.  That the pirates came for the wealth, so in the 17th century they built the wall around the city, to protect themselves. As I mentioned above. But where it talks about the gold and slavery, it refers to this “gruesome” trade.  That’s the virtue signalling I mentioned. That one adjective, gruesome. It’s not necessary. We know perfectly well that slavery is not a Good Thing. We don’t need to be told it’s a horrible thing to buy and sell people.  That’s just virtue signalling. It’s saying, “I wrote this but I don’t approve of it, so I’m going to make it clear that I think this is a Bad Thing, so you know I don’t think it’s a Good Thing”.  It’s totally unnecessary. It’s bordering on tautology, in my opinion.  It’s like saying “The Black Death killed a lot of people. This was not a good thing”. It’s not necessary.  We know that a third of the population of Europe died. We are capable of figuring out for ourselves that that was not considered to be a beneficial outcome (although it really was, but that’s another story altogether).  Virtue signalling is just stating the obvious. Slavery is a gruesome trade. No, REALLY?! Who’d ‘a thunk?!

We didn’t go to the Old City, for a variety of reasons. Not least of which was the Cruise Terminal was FANTASTIC. It’s a destination in and of itself!  It’s a 600 yard walk, but they provide a free shuttle bus, for which Dad was rather grateful, and some of them are even air conditioned!  When you arrive you are greeted with a one-way system.  This takes you through a sort of wild aviary, under tunnels of trees, to enclosures of flamingos, peacocks, parrots, and a few monkeys.  They are free to roam and fly as they wish, but they know where to wait for the feeding stations, and the parrots are extremely accomplished at sitting on human heads for the taking of photographs.  There is almost no bird poo to be seen, although the monkeys are not quite as respectful in that regard.  There are two outdoor cafes and a large indoor market selling tourist tat, with some of the best air con we’ve found so far.  So I shopped while Dad sat and watched other people being abused, pooed on or ignored by the nearby wildlife.  A small bottle of coke was about eight quid, but that didn’t dull our enjoyment in the slightest. 

I have refrained from commenting too much about the heat and humidity so far in this blog, because I know that, at home, my road is flooded closed, AGAIN, and you are all cold and miserable.  But we have had temperatures consistently over 30 degrees ever since New Orleans, and the humidity is now so high that the waiters have to mop the CEILINGS, because the air con is causing such condensation where it meets the outside air that it’s dripping on the diners!

Today is Sunday 11th February 2024, and we are in the Port of Colon. There is very little to do here. The half dozen excursions P&O were able to cobble together all relate to the Panama Canal, and start with an hour’s drive, to get away from the port!  This is a Rest Day for us.  Even Cruise Crocodile hasn’t mustered a port guide for this place yet. It’s a working port.  Cranes and containers and little lorries driving around waiting to have containers plonked on their backs by even littler forklifts. But it’s Sunday, in a Christian country, so there’s not much activity to speak of. Which undoubtedly means P&O got a discount on the parking fees! **sigh**

NORA, essay deadline: ONE WEEK.

The day after St Vincent was Barbados. We don’t get off here anymore.  Because it is the furthest east of all the Caribbean islands, EVERYONE stops here, both on the way out and on the way back across the Atlantic; it reduces the risk of cabin fever amongst the landlubbers aboard.  We stayed on board and caught up on chores – like blogging and napping and checking bank accounts are still solvent! Apparently, our usual spot, The Boatyard, was so overcrowded they had to close to new visitors! Glad we weren’t there for that! There are always a good half dozen cruise ships in, minimum. There was talk of a dozen today, but that might be a slight exaggeration! But even six of the newer, much larger, ships is potentially THIRTY THOUSAND passengers, all going ashore looking for a beach. And don’t forget, crew and staff are allowed ashore too!

I was glad of the day off, because the next day was Martinique.  For those who have lost count, that is six ports in six days. What were they thinking when they plotted that itinerary! Thank heavens they included Barbados, so we could plan a rest day. 

Martinique is France. Not French. Not French-speaking, France.  The currency is the Euro, and the flag is the bleu blanc rouge of the tricolore.  And they speak proper French. Not a Creole that I have trouble understanding, proper French. It was lovely. Unfortunately, P&O couldn’t pass up the chance to save a few pennies, and we were the only ship in, because we arrived on a Sunday. France is closed on Sundays.  That’s why the parking is cheap.  (By the way, Paris, hiking the parking for heavy cars is a very silly idea, particularly as electric cars are heavier than petrol and diesel!).

Oddly, as soon as anyone realised we were British, all they wanted to talk about was Brexit. I had to explain to several different people that, generally speaking, no one really talks much about Brexit at home! They seemed curiously obsessed about it.

Some touristy stalls and bars had set up on the quayside, playing French music (we’ve heard a LOT of English language reggae, especially Bob Marley, these past few days) and offering seating and shade. So I purchased the obligatory trinkets and tshirt and then went to one of the bars for a sit down.  They were just putting out extra tables and chairs for two new arrivals, so I joined them.  We chatted for about an hour. They complimented me on my French.  They also thought I was from Alsace (that’s what the University de Caen administrator thought when I rang her in 1997!), so I must have a pretty consistent accent.  We discussed the teaching of English in schools – they now start in primary school – and Matthieu’s nephew is ten and speaks four languages fluently – French, English, Spanish and Portuguese. The older gentleman never gave his name, but it didn’t matter. We had a lovely time for an hour, watching the very happy-looking drug addicts dancing to the music and saying hello to everyone – not begging – just passing.

There is a very big drug smuggling problem here, because there are so many small coves for small boats to come into during the night, and no way to patrol them all.  From here, it’s a straight flight into mainland Europe – Martinique is a French department, and so it is inside the Schengen area.  Flying from here to Paris is an internal flight! Which reminds me, did the recent cannabis find make it to the UK news? Two cruise passengers boarded a ship to sail from the US to the UK. Homeland Security were called, and they each had something like 57 kilos of cannabis in their bags.  Apparently, it’s better to sell it in the UK because they can get a significantly higher price there, compared to the US. You live and learn.

Anyway, I spent a lovely hour chatting in French with two complete strangers, interrupted only by my brief visit to a Very Complicated Toilet ™.  They had a single accessible automated cubicle thingy.  Firstly, it wouldn’t let me in because it was cleaning itself.  Then, when the door did open, everything was sopping wet! In order to get toilet paper, you have to wave your hand in front of a sensor on the wall and it feeds out a certain amount. You want more? Wave again. Want more? Wait. Then wave again. And so on.  The first portion was used to dry the seat!  Then, when you’re done, you wave to flush. The soap and water are both plentiful and also sourced by waving at sensors. They even have sensitivity as to flow rate. The closer you put your hand, the more soap you get and the stronger the water flows.  All very clever.  Cleverest of all: the door open is a BUTTON. So you can’t wave your hand and open it by accident! All of which was explained very clearly by an automated voice – female – in French.  The signage was in French and English, but the talky lady was French only.  Still, clean and well-stocked. Not like Guadeloupe, when I had to wander the streets begging for loo roll!

Dad didn’t come ashore here. We were moored at an L-shaped pier, that struck out from the shore across the shallows, and then bent round so that we could moor alongside and have several gangways down.  He was right not to. I counted. It was 515 paces from the end of the gangplank to the land.  Not for those with limited walking ability!  There were pedicabs to get you around once you’d got there (all powered by women), but they weren’t allowed onto the pier, which is very silly, as that’s where they were needed the most!

They seem very fond of painting their tarmac here. On the shore, there was a huge pavement painting, apparently commemorating the Martinikais’ contribution to the Resistance in WWII.  It’s probably very pretty from the air, but at ground level, it’s just large patches of colour with names painted in white! The pier was also painted – green for pavements and blue for roadway.  And some colour co-ordinated (ie blue and green!) patterny bits here and there.

So, although some were disappointed that everything was shut, I absolutely loved it here, and this is somewhere I would love to come back to again sometime.

R401 Part 5

Sad postscript to San Juan. The day I finally got there, Chita Rivera died.  She was the original Anita on my soundtrack tape of West Side Story.  Very sad.  But if I was of a superstitious nature, I can see how that would seem an uncanny coincidence. Humans love a pattern.

Anyway, that was San Juan on Tuesday.  Where I managed to contract heat exhaustion.  Heat Exhaustion is the precursor to heat stroke/sun stroke (now considered the same thing). Those will kill you.  Heat exhaustion just makes you have stomach cramps, throw up a bit and sleep a lot.  So I spent the next day in as cold a shower as I could muster/ stand.  We had never intended to get off in Sint Maarten anyway, so I could not have timed it better! We have been here plenty of times before. It’s all very lovely, and it’s fun playing spot the difference between the Dutch bit and the French bit (more rules and road markings on the French side, and the disabled parking spaces have official signs saying Stupidity is not a disability, park somewhere else, in French).  Philipsburg is where we moor and you have to taxi to Marigot for the French bit.  Philipsburg is VERY touristy, although they haven’t yet quite grasped that they can price gouge on Diet Cokes as much as they do on diamonds!

However, Philipsburg is NOT wheelchair friendly.  The boardwalk along the front isn’t bad, and it is right on the sand. It’s called the Boardwalk, but it’s actually a tarmacked, pedestria nised road. But step one road back from the front, so to speak, and it’s a mobility nightmare – cobbled roads and pavements with neither dipped kerbs nor even wide enough pavements for both wheels at once of even the narrowest wheelchair.  We did once find a disabled loo, or what passes for one here, but it was in the basement of a hotel, and mum was not impressed with having to take the lift down and back up again. Particularly as, when we got to it, it was just a cubicle with a wider door – no handles whatsoever. The people are very friendly, but this is not an ideal location for anyone with mobility needs.  Of course, that being said, I haven’t been ashore here for a few years, so there may have been improvements. I was too ill to go and check this year.

So, as a result of the fierce sun and heat in San Juan, I spent Wednesday in bed, or stark nekkid and letting the water evaporate the heat out of my skin. 

Here endeth January 2024.

Thursday – yes, that’s three ports in three days, for those paying attention, was Dominica (pronounced DominEEKa).  Quite a pleasant little place.  There were two other cruise ships in, a Seabourn one and a German one, with the splendidly thought-out name, Mein Schiff 4.  Someone needs a medal for coming up with that one. Luckily the other two were parked at the other end of the town, so we had our bit all to ourselves.  Dad and I pottered along the quayside. Once again, the sun was white hot and fierce, and the humidity so high that the roof of the ship’s canteen had condensation on it! I took a look before we went ashore, and calculated how far we’d likely get and spotted a resting place halfway. When we got to the halfway point, Dad wanted a sit down – I felt very organised! There were some seats outside what looked like a little café, so I went to ask if they would mind if we just had a cheeky sit down for a couple of minutes. When I opened the door, I was hit by a blast of cold air so strong, it knocked me backwards. Turns out, it’s an ICE CREAM shop! They had FOUR full-size wall-mounted air con units going full blast. It was FAB.  So Dad negotiated the two rather large steps, and we went and sat inside – he had vanilla from a little pot, and I had an apple lolly.  I cannot describe the virulent shade of green that it had, but it tasted lovely.  Sadly – or maybe deliberately?! – the shop was barely visible from the outside, and we were the only non-locals in there. If you’re ever in Dominica, look for Sweet Novelties in the little stone house with pale blue shutters. The entrance is around the side. You’re welcome.

Then we plodded on a little further, to the waterfront supermarket, where I replenished my stock of cotton wool and a nice, very tall, assistant found dad a chair.  We considered making purchases, so I scouted the chocolates and so on.  There was a post-Christmas discount shelf, to clear the Pringles with Santas on, etc.  They had three different flavours of Terry’s Chocolate Orange – dark, milk and mint. But as they were reduced to TEN DOLLARS, we gave it a miss.  We both love a chocolate orange, but not at that price!

Final thought on Dominica. Hello Kitty is VERY popular here. She’s even on the Dominica souvenir teatowels!

Friday? It must be St Vincent, as in “and the Grenadines”.  Dad rather overdid it yesterday, so I went ashore alone.  As we didn’t come ashore here last year, due to very Blighty-like precipitation, it was nice to finally get a look.  I couldn’t go far.  I had a pain in my left foot, that I had initially assumed was a patch of sunburn where I had failed to spray, and was walking with a pronounced and quite painful limp.  I managed to buy a tshirt and a fridge magnet, and, walking stick in hand, danced as best I could to the live reggae band, who never stopped playing for the entire hour and a half I was listening. When I got back on board, I went to the doctor. My red, sore patch had become a lump during the night, and kept me awake.  After repeatedly jamming his thumb into the most sensitive spot he could find, Dr John concluded that I have developed plantar fasciitis! Yay! Ow.  The doctor sent me away with a healthy bill, an exercise resistance band, and a flea in my ear about unsupportive footwear.  That’s me told.

Tomorrow, one of our favourite waitresses, Shaheema, disembarks. She’s quitting the ships altogether and going back to airline stewardessing. Everyone at the quiz showered her with kisses and cards and good lucks.  She and I became friends last October, or was it the October before? It’s been a while, anyway! I’ll miss her friendly smile every day.

I am posting this again, as the first upload seems to have failed.

R401 Part 4

HELLOOOOO SAN JUAN, capital of Puerto Rico! A US territory but not a state (I dunno either).

Bye bye cold water from the taps.

THIS is sunshine. Proper. Blue sky. Much humidity. Good breeze.

Even the roof is now mended and open! Let the holiday commence!

I have wanted to see San Juan in Puerto Rico ever since I was a little girl and my mum gave me the Broadway recording of West Side Story on cassette. 

Puerto Rico,

You lovely island . . .

Island of tropical breezes.

Always the pineapples growing,

Always the coffee blossoms blowing . . .

Puerto Rico . . .

You ugly island . . .

Island of tropic diseases.

Always the hurricanes blowing,

Always the population growing . . .

And the money owing,

And the babies crying,

And the bullets flying.

I like the island Manhattan.

Smoke on your pipe and put that in!

I like to be in America!

O.K. by me in America!

Ev’rything free in America

For a small fee in America!

I like the city of San Juan.

I know a boat you can get on.

Hundreds of flowers in full bloom.

Hundreds of people in each room!

…

When I will go back to San Juan.

When you will shut up and get gone?

Everyone there will give big cheer!

Everyone there will have moved here!

Those were some of the first lyrics I ever learned by heart (excluding songs and hymns at school). I played that song until the tape stretched. So finally coming here felt like quite a big deal to me.

Too hot.  Much too hot. Normally, we’d have built up to this gradually, via sunnier but more northerly climes, such as Bermuda or Madeira or Florida. But the weather has been so grey and miserable, that we’ve built up no tolerance to the sun. And now, it is hitting us, hard. It is FIERCELY hot today, and we’re not ready for it! I’m not anyway.  It was so hot on deck, that Dad thought the roof was still closed! Yes, that stifling.  He came back from his morning recce complaining about living in a greenhouse.  Luckily, as the roof WAS now open – for the first time since the replacement part boarded at Southampton – it wasn’t nearly as humid as it could have been! But the sun was white hot, and beating down like it was trying to make up for three weeks’ of lost time in one afternoon.  Most found it too hot to sunbathe, and retreated to the shade.

Anyway, I ventured ashore alone and pottered on the quayside (read: carried out an air con crawl along the shops).  Although this is, ostensibly/ to all intents and purposes, the USA, it is still an island, so prices were not low.  There were also three other ships in at the same time, so virtually everyone I saw was a tourist, mostly Americans – friendly bunch, as usual.  This is a prosperous town, not ugly but not pretty like the NOLA French Quarter, for example. There are a few forts and things to go and look at but it’s not a particularly historic kind of a place. For example, this was not Aurora’s maiden call here, but there were only seven excursions available to choose from. Tomorrow, in St Maarten, there are fifteen. With a ‘rainforest drive’, a shopping mall, a flamenco guitar show and a ‘gastronomic experience’, they were really trying, but it doesn’t seem a particularly interesting place. The largest property on the waterfront was Señor Frog’s, which is a chain of mahogany-panelled, air conditioned bars. Most Americans just seem to come ashore, stock up on crisps and wine and get back on board! I went into two pharmacies and pretty much all they were selling was Doritos!

Being America-ish, they understand the concept of helping the disabled get around. There are dipped kerbs, and most places are either level or ramped entry. However, they haven’t quite grasped the need for SEATING. Which is a shame. Nor do the elderly or infirm get priority at the tills. Which is just thoughtless.

Then I strolled back along the quayside to the ship, past some perfectly touristy market stalls, which allowed me to buy some souvenirs for friends and a fridge magnet for us.  Getting back on board, into the air con, was such a relief. I felt so ridiculous. I mean, this is what we’re here for, isn’t it?! To escape the fact that it’s single digits in the UK right now?! So why on earth am I grumpy about it being 28 in the shade?! And not just me; virtually everyone I spoke to on board was similarly whingey. Well, mostly because humans are contrary buggers, at the best of times. But also because, unfortunately, you can have too much of a good thing!

Interestingly, when they made the film of West Side Story, four years after the Broadway soundtrack was such a roaring success, Sondheim changed the lyrics of America.

Puerto Rico,

My heart’s devotion—

Let it sink back in the ocean.

Always the hurricanes blowing,

Always the population growing,

And the money owing,

And the sunlight streaming,

And the natives steaming.

So maybe the locals find it a bit hard to bear, as well!

Anyway, hopefully, my system will have learned from today and be more grateful tomorrow in St Maarten. Hopefully.