Cruising to Panama, Costa Rica, and Columbia

Carnival Triumph, March 2-14, 2015

The Panama Canal: a place on nearly everyone’s bucket list.  The Gupton and I decided the time had come to head there, given the fact that we could book a trip from and to Galveston, thus avoiding the airports (and steep air fares) that seem to be a major part of travel these days.

Carnival has a ship, the Triumph, which was making just one voyage to the western Caribbean.  The 12-day trip would take us to Grand Cayman; Colon, Panama; Limon, Costa Rica; and two cities in Columbia, namely Cartagena and Santa Marta.  Seven days were all to be at sea, giving me plenty of time to sit on my balcony and listen to the water.  As a matter of fact, that’s what I’m doing as I write this….

The Triumph was built in the 1970s, and its décor rather looks it, with colors and styles of embellishment stemming from that era.  It suffered a major engine accident in 2005, and at that time, much of the ship was refurbished, but retained most of the original design in the public areas.  There are little touches everywhere that show that it’s an older ship, where repairs have been patched or the constant wear has come through.  The ship holds over 2700 passengers and over 1000 crew members.  The crew have been trained within an inch of their lives to be fabulous, and they were the absolute best thing about the ship, with the exception of being on the ocean!

Embarkation day: there was heavy fog all over our area on March 2; in fact, I had a message from Carnival that their previous cruise landing might be delayed due to weather, and that our arrival at the terminal should be a bit later than scheduled.  We stopped at Stomp’s on the way down for a lunch, and still arrived shortly after the originally scheduled 12:30 time.  Ahead of us was a long line of cars unloading, but we coped well, and I left Hank seated on a bench with his walker while I went to park the car. 

I’m way too optimistic when it comes to The Gupton’s capacity for movement, I guess; I thought he could negotiate the terminal and getting onto the ship with the walker, which has a seat.  He ended up in a wheelchair to negotiate the last half of the climb (it really is a lot of walking, and he don’t do that!) We got him in the room and he was asleep by 2:30, which is fairly normal for him.  Upon arrival at our room, we immediately noticed that our room was narrower, shorter in length, and the window views were a bit smaller than the ships we had been on recently.

I set out to explore.  This is our 3^rd cruise in 4 years, but the first on a Carnival ship since my 40^th birthday (which decade is best left unmentioned). The design of the public areas is interesting; they have split most of the upper levels into three groups, so if you are at one end of the ship on the top 3 levels, for example, you need to go to a lower floor to get to the set of elevators that will take you to an area on the other end of the ship. 

This required some strategic exploration on my part, of course, so I began by fortifying myself at one of the bars, then started my journey.  In, and out, up, and down, I hit as much as I could find from deck 11 down to deck 3.  And just for good measure, I pulled out my phone to send a few texts while I still could.  When I decided to head back to the room, I realized that somewhere along the way, I had lost my SeaPass card, which is the room key and onboard credit card.  And we had not even left port.  I blame the Crown Royal.

A trip to guest services was then in order.  The young man from India asked my room number, and I stated 9092, table 606, roommate’s name, etc.  After stating the room number 3 times, he informed me that there WAS no 9092, and I was in 9290.  (See, it had to be the Crown Royal).  He also said I wasn’t the first, and wouldn’t be the last, to lose the card.  I guess he’d already had an interesting day. Namaste, Subhankar!  So on the way back to the room, I got another Crown to calm down…

Now, the Hankster likes his formal dining with wait service.  We were on the 9^th floor, just two doors from one of the pools, which led directly to the buffet restaurant.  The gent who helped me book the cruise thought that this might be an easier thing for me, expecting my hubby to want to keep it casual, or for me to carry food to the room, or whatever. The formal dining room was on the 4^th floor, reached by traversing from our room, through the buffet restaurant (pretty huge) and then getting to the elevators at that further end of the ship.  This required that Hank negotiate the pool area and buffet kiosks and tables using his walker, and he frequently needed to sit for a few minutes to get his breath.  Slow going: our first trip to the dining room took about 20 minutes before we could sit down at the table.

But our dinner was pleasant; one of our table couples I had already met during the safety drill (we were standing next to each other).  They were Canadian, from the Niagara Falls area, and bore the names of John and Donna Proper.  He was also a very large guy, and diabetic, so he and Hank had some similar issues.  Unfortunately, Mr. Gupton was having hearing aid issues.  He neglected to realize that he was out of batteries.  Sigh.  But he got the steak and lobster, which he enjoyed, and I got a bottle of Pinot Grigio, which I enjoyed, so we finished our meal and headed back to the room.  He was asleep by 7:30, and I not only followed him shortly after, but I slept till nearly 5 am!  Ah, the luxury…Day 2 at sea: the first thing I did upon rising was to step onto the balcony to check the weather.  Galveston had been damp and quite coolish; there was already a definite difference in the temperature, although the humidity was nearly the same!  I dressed and headed out to do some deck walking, and after that, I went to find the spa/gym.  That took some doing, but I finally found it, and saw they were doing a yoga class.  I checked out their list of classes, and while they had Pilates, Yoga, stretch and bike classes, there was no Zumba, no Cardio, and no Tai Chi.  For those of you who don’t know me well, I can’t get up and down off the floor easily, and can’t kneel at all right now.  And I find treadmills and stationary bikes tedious at best.  So I trotted back outside, found a quiet deck, and worked my way through my entire tai chi repertoire, which takes nearly an hour.  It was a little shaky, since the decks were wet and I usually don’t wear shoes to do the forms, but I managed and worked up a sweat to boot. 

About 7:30 I woke Mr. G up, handed him his coffee, and told him it was time for breakfast.  Since he didn’t want to try the nearby restaurant, and couldn’t stand the room service menu, we planned for the brunch at the formal dining room, which began at 8:30.  He showered, dressed, and after one false start (damned elevators!) we made it.  I had the eggs benedict with salmon, a dish I discovered last year in Scandinavia.  He had steak and eggs, and I got the béarnaise they gave to him.  I just loaded it on top of my hollandaise!  Then Mr. G headed for the room and bed.  It was 10:00 a.m., so he was nearly back on his regular schedule.

Off I went to do some more walking.  I need to mention that my friends Rhonda and Brian LeBlanc were on board.  I left a note at their room, kept moving and looking for them.  The wind picked up considerably, so my visor blew off, but the sun was out and so were the bathers.  The bartenders are kept quite busy on these decks! 

Headed inside for a Long Island Iced Tea and a little book reading, where I was spied by Rhonda and Brian!  We chatted and arranged to meet upstairs in the dining area.  I got Hank up and we went in to eat, and then moseyed over to visit with the LeBlancs for an hour.  Hank was at his storytelling best, and Rhonda just egged him on unmercifully.  Then it was back for a short nap for Hank, after which it was time to dress up for the first formal dining evening.

I think all this enforced exercise that Hank is doing to get around the ship is helping him some.  It only took us 10 minutes to get to the dining room instead of last night’s 20.  And no one from our table the previous night was there, but we had 3 new folks seated – some people from Los Angeles.  Dannie and Bessie had been married 57 years, and were celebrating on ship.  Their daughter Emily, an ob-gyn nurse, was along for the picture taking.  We had a delightful time exchanging stories. We had crossed a time line, so set our clocks up – a week earlier than home. We were heading almost due east to get to Grand Cayman.

Day 3, again at sea: awakening this morning, bright sunlight and warm tropical air greeted me on the balcony.  I dashed into my clothes and headed out for my tai chi exercises.  The wind was very noticeable, and though I found a spot with some shelter, I still got blown off balance fairly frequently.  Managed all my forms, and wolfed down some huevos rancheros before doing a little walking.  Got the Gup out of bed and fed him his own chow, and at 10, took him to a program on the Titanic, one of his absolute all-time favorite topics.  It was FREEZING in the room, so I ducked out and read a book till they were done. 

We headed back to the room and Hank got a few minutes shut-eye, then I went to get burgers from one of the most popular kiosks on the ship.  Guy Fieri has syndicated his burger joint to the ships, and I had been lusting for a burger since we had boarded.  Heaven on earth, like Jimmy Buffet says. 

The afternoon was a lazy one, we both napped, I finished a book, and then took it down to the library to donate.  I was checking the photo gallery when I ran into Rhonda and Brian.  We chatted a while, then I went to get another of those fab Long Island Iced Teas.  Back up at the room, The Gupton got dressed for dinner, and then he tripped and sprawled, knocking the scab off his leg that was from the fall about 10 days ago.  Bled like the proverbial stuck pig, thanks to his blood thinners.  We doused it a while, then I ran downstairs for bandages, taped him up, and we headed for the dining room.  Tonight he had a full lobster (his 3^rd lobster meal in 3 days) and I had a lovely truffle pate and veal.  Then I danced with the waiters while they performed. (Just so ya know, I wasn’t the only passenger prancing.)

We came back to the room and great drama.  Some of the passengers had spotted a small craft “in distress,” and in the law of the sea, that means that any nearby ship must check it out.  We changed course, and most of the passengers were leaning off the port side to watch.  We had ring-side seats at our balcony.  The craft was about a 12-14 foot pontoon, with a small aluminum mast, pontoons out of Styrofoam, sail looked plastic to me.  The guy in the room next to us said we weren’t far off Cuba at that point, leading us to all sorts of speculation.  The Triumph let down a landing deck at sea level, and some crew roped the craft, entered to verify no one was on it, left some kind of notice that they had viewed the ship and no one was aboard, and returned to the ship.  The little craft drifted away into the darkness; I went in to do Evening Prayer with some special intentions for whoever had been on the boat.

Day 4: Cayman! I awoke as the boat began slowing down for its docking in Georgetown, Grand Cayman, about 6:30 a.m.  The balcony view was lovely – I could see 7 Mile Beach in the distance, site of many memories from the 70s.  (Where I used to stay, in some really junky little cabins there is now a 12 story resort hotel).  Anyway, I hopped into my clothes and headed upstairs for my usual morning tai chi routine. It was MUCH smoother on the water today, and almost no wind, so I nearly looked as if I knew what I was doing instead of floundering around.   Finishing that, I ran into Brian, and we chatted a few minutes before he left to get Rhonda.  They were heading for the stingray tour. 

I used my Tex-Mex Spanish at the taco bar and chatted up the boys while they made my burrito.  Then I took it back to the balcony in my room and watched the boat tenders hauling everyone to the island; the tenders loaded right below me. I watched a guy on a parasail for about 20 minutes as he floated nearby.  Lots of small craft were in the water: fishing, sailing, jet-skis, just the usual stuff offshore. 

Absolutely beautiful weather for a day on a cruise ship!

Hank got up and I took him in for breakfast.  His walking has become almost normal, and he hardly has to stop for breath anymore.  Needless to say, I have mentioned to him that all this exercise is helping…  We were sitting at one of the tables in the adult dining room, just watching the activity towards the island, when our Canadian dining partners from night 1 stopped by.  John and Donna ended up spending a couple of hours with us, including eating lunch.  Turns out John has 3 cousins in the NFL, and Hank knew who they were, so they were off and running. We moved on eventually, so Hank could nap.  I read on the balcony, and took a snooze myself!  Then it was off to dinner.

Our dining companions from Los Angeles returned, and we had a great time.  Emily, the daughter, is probably 10 years younger than me, and she’s into red wine and audio books, so we had no trouble keeping the conversation going.  They are Filipino, by the way, and Danny and Bessie had come to the States in their 20s.  Hank had the surf and turf AGAIN, and I had duck. I had also ordered a celery and yam soup, and everyone at the table wondered exceedingly when Jean-Baptiste laid a huge bowl with 3 small yam slices at my place.  Then he grinned and poured the soup over the yams from a small pitcher.  It was worth a laugh.Day 5: at sea.  Woke up to some rockin’: there were whitecaps everywhere, and someone said the swells were about 11 feet.  Lots of sun, but the wind really pushed the water around.  My tai chi efforts were seriously stymied, and I gave up after about 10 minutes.  We got a notice that the crew planned to wash all the balconies today, so we were asked to vacate the rooms during the morning hours.  Since I could get him to the brunch in the main dining room, Mr. Gupton dined late. I then drug him down the hall to watch a cha cha dance lesson. After that, I tried to get him into shopping for souvenirs in the ship’s shops, but by then it was obvious he had blown all his resources.  Got him into the cabin and he was out like a light from noon till 4:30. 

I spent the afternoon on the balcony for a while, finishing another book (such luxury, to read and hear the water and watch the waves). Then I took my used up book down to the ship’s library (I donate them when done so I don’t lug them back in my luggage) and went up top to walk a mile.  It was exceedingly windy on the track, but other than looking like a wreck, I managed.  Ran into Emily and gave her a list of books she might find intriguing when she got back home (once a librarian, always a reader’s advisor).

Came back to the room, and watched a tai chi video I had brought with me, while Hank got his act together.  We went downstairs to one of the bars so he could have a Manhattan, and I could have my usual.  Listened to some music, then went up to dinner.  We were dining alone at our table again – Hank is mystified that people don’t seem to want others to wait on them hand and foot!  We both had a sirloin strip, but he still had shrimp, and I had a bouillabaisse for starters.  And then the waiters danced again and so did I.  We headed for the cabin, and for some reason, I turned on the tv and watched Animal Planet.  I got to laughing so hard at the antics of the cats and dogs that I woke Hank up, and so we ended the night in front of the tv.

Day 6: Limon, Costa Rica.  Woke up early enough to see that we were still not quite to shore, and that the sky was exceedingly overcast.  Welcome to the rainforest!  By the time I was dressed and heading for someplace to walk and do tai chi, it was raining.  Nice, solid, heavy, drops of rain hitting the decks.  So I ducked into an empty dining area, and worked on my forms.  I even kicked off my shoes so I could do them barefoot, the way I prefer.  I’ve been leery of twisting and turning barefoot on the wood decks outside. 

Came back to the room, grabbed my parka and visor, and went back out to watch the docking procedure.  It was still raining, but a little lighter, and I climbed up to deck 12, where the basketball court is.  No one was in that exposed area, and it was the spot most visible to the front of the ship.  It’s always astonishing to watch a monster ship like this quietly nose up to the pier with not even a bump.  It takes a while to do so, of course, since they are moving ever so slowly.  One false step and they could easily destroy the whole port area.  But they didn’t, and the rain let up, although showers are forecast for the day.  Weather, according to the cruise director, is slightly cooler today, but will feel like 92! I had forgotten that I would be in a prime birding area.  Not that I’m a birder of any stripe, but it’s always interesting to see something unusual in the sky.  My first sightings were the giant birds offshore with forked tails and bent wings.  Like swallowtail kites, but all dark, and larger.  Then there were the much smaller swallow-like birds once we docked.  Gonna have to check these guys out.

Got Hank up about 10 – they were going to do maintenance on the water lines and needed to get him out of the room before they turned everything off.  Took him to the buffet for breakfast, and he liked it so much, he had a 2^nd plate.  While he was polishing that off, John and Donna dropped by.  We got to talking gardening, and I promised to deliver my special tomato fertilizer recipe.  First reader’s advisory, now master gardener work – haven’t dropped a stitch even on the cruise.

I intended to get Hank up to watch some basketball in the sports bar, but one of our fellow travelers came by and told us that there was a Mercado of sorts just on the other side of the pier area.  Donna and I decided to check it out, since it was so close, and we had a fun time.  The booths were mostly identical, with lots of coffee, woodwork, and tee shirts for sale, but there were a few special ones, like a wonderful woodcarver, and a couple of super-cheap massage and pedicure booths.  I picked up a few more gifties, and we headed back to the ship.  By this time, the weather had cleared, and now we are truly able to tell we’re in the tropics.  My balcony was nice for about 10 minutes, but then a bit too much in the sun for true enjoyment.

I headed down to the sports bar to get a fix of college basketball, it being Saturday afternoon.  For the first time ever, the tv screens weren’t working.  I asked four people, and finally learned that there was some satellite difficulty; I was also promised that it should be repaired within the hour.  A scoreboard was still running, so I learned that Indiana lost again – sigh.  After 2 and a half hours, I gave up, and went upstairs to get Hank to dinner.

We got to the dining room before it opened, and a bunch of folks were crowded around the doors, because the waiters were rehearsing another song and dance number.  They did it 3 times before we went in, so I got a lot of practice! Hank ordered a “penne marisco,” pasta with lots of seafood in it, and I ordered the short ribs.  Turned out the penne sauce had cheese in it, so we swapped dinners. I also had a fig, date, and cinnamon cake with rum raisin ice cream.  Very nice ending to my dinner.

We left and headed to the sports bar, where they finally had screens running.  Watched 2 games and had to switch the clocks back up again, so we didn’t get to bed till after 11. We’re such late night party types…

Day 7: Colon, Panama.  Woke up late for me (7:00) and we had already docked! Looked out my balcony, and I was smack dab facing the little facades of colonial Panama, in the usual tropical colors.  This crowded little area is obviously mostly industrial, in spite of a Radisson and a casino across the street. They are window dressing at best; the actual buildings are vacant, and one of the walkways contains some aluminum that obviously was a covered walkway that blew over.  Oh yes, the wind was swaying the palm trees, and the ship flags were straight out.

The rest is undeniably commercial/industrial in intent.  You can see some apartment buildings and trees, but they are surrounded by cranes, warehouses, and other business interests.  Looking towards the slight barrier reef, there were at least a dozen large ships already inside the reef and more outside it, fading into the distance. 

On our Atlantic side, the canal actually begins in a lake that was created. The locks that everyone knows about are some miles away, reached by ferry, train, or tour bus, and make up a fairly small portion of the passageway. Being the technological marvel for that time (not to mention ours), the locks are what fascinate the public.  They are constructing another set currently, because the largest sea-going vessels can’t get through the current locks.

After looking around via the upper decks, I did my tai chi routines and returned to the room to shower and wait for the Gupton to awaken. About 9:30, I gave up, and shook him and asked if he was sleeping till noon.  He said yes, so I called Donna, and we arranged to go ashore for an hour or so.  At that point of course, Mr. G got up, and I told him to take a shower and stay put till I got back.  I headed downstairs to our meeting spot, and spent a few minutes observing all the staff in their lifejackets and using walkie-talkies, doing drills while almost everyone was ashore.

Donna and I met up, headed down the gangplank, and into a phalanx of taxi drivers, all anxious to take two lovely ladies to see the Canal, to go shopping, anything at all, for a reasonable price.  The usual.  Anyway, we toured the nearby shops: Donna was on the prowl for a porkpie hat for John, and I looked for anything small and touristy that would fit in a suitcase.  We both bought little paintings on feathers like we had seen in Limon, and I grabbed some postcards.  Stopped in a pretty large grocery (bigger than our local B&B, smaller than Kroger) and I picked up some bigger bandages for Hank’s knee.  Some indigenous young men were dressed up and playing in the walk area on the way back to the ship, and I dropped them a buck and took their picture.  All done in an hour.

Got back to the room, and Hank was gone.  And I had his room key.  Went dashing to the dining room, and there he sat, looking around.  He had dozed, then heard someone say, “abandon ship,” and thought it was real!  He dressed and got out of the room, then made it to the deck and figured if no one else was leaving, neither was he. I fed him his breakfast, got me some lunch, then he went back to the room for his nap and I went down to watch some girls’ basketball.  The ACC girls were just over when John came in, and we visited a bit while we waited for the next game to start – and then the satellite went out again.  I went back upstairs to nap.

We headed for the dining room, and chatted with our table crew (Jean-Baptiste from Haiti; Dajana, from the Bosnia-Hercegovina; and I Gehde (number two!) from Bali.  I should note at this point that thanks to Gilbert’s “Eat, Pray, Love” I had learned about the interesting way the Balinese name their children.  If it’s a boy, the first part is I; if a girl, it’s Ni.  Then they name them one, two, three, four, in the order of their appearance.  No Jane or Joe for them.  So there are a bunch of Wayans on board (like me, they’re number one!), and a few twos and threes.  Must be terrible trying to keep them straight on a census. All of the Balinese that I’ve run across have been thrilled to think I know even that little about their culture and their names, including Gehde.Hank was back to the surf and turf tonight, and I had a seafood dish. My starter was a salad in which they marinated the Portobello mushrooms in something wonderful; I thought that was the best of the evening until I got the dessert. It was billed as Bitter and Sweet bread pudding, and it was absolutely dangerous. Layer of 70% chocolate on the bottom, bits of chocolate throughout, and slathered in a vanilla cream sauce.  Told the crew I tried to crawl into the bowl to finish the edges.

We went up to watch another tournament game, and then I met Donna at the excursion desk to order our trip.  She handed me a couple pieces of chocolate, explaining that they were the product of a chocolate candy making class someone else had taken.  They had shared the chocolate, and neither Donna nor John liked it, so she pawned it off on me.  It was ghastly!  Spit it out and drank a lot of water.  I think these folks flunked the class.

Got our newsletter on Cartagena when we were back at the room, and included was a nice letter from the captain explaining that there would be LOTS and LOTS of extra security at the port, on the dock, on our tours, etc. even though there was little chance of danger… Columbia was the stopping area I had been a little dubious about; glad we didn’t book an excursion for Cartagena, at least.  Santa Marta isn’t a town you hear about in the news, so it should be a little calmer – I hope.At dinner, they announced that we were leaving port and the seas would be rougher till we got to Columbia.  Warned you to hold the handrails, etc. yadda, yadda.  Well, it turns out they weren’t kidding.  We rocked and rolled in the bed all night; I could have sworn Hank fell out of bed 3 times, but it was just some very large bumps of furniture outside somewhere.  It’s quite fascinating; nothing in the room moved except the two warm bodies, but boy, did we feel it.  I’m a light sleeper anyway, and I never got really settled.  And getting up at my usual time for my exercises was a useless endeavor.  Decided to wait till 11 when we docked at Cartagena, and busied myself puttering in the room.

Day 8 – Cartagena. At about 9:30, we entered calmer waters – finally, the protected coastal area near Columbia.  We’re in South America!  That means that I’ve been to Europe and South America, and Hank’s made it to Asia as well (Istanbul). The first image I had was for this rather barren area where some resort type structures, a few barrios, and an old fort guarded the area.

  The terrain reminded me of Madrid.  The land was much browner and drier than we had seen in Panama and Costa Rica.  Still lots of palm trees, but mostly scrub on the hillsides.  In the distance, however, was the truly modern urban skyscraper scene that is Cartagena, one of the largest cities on the Continent.  It was hazy, so the skyscrapers looked as if they were coming out of a mist. We’re talking about 3 dozen of them, most around 30 or so stories. Then, there’s another cluster of them, across some sort of bay or inlet, where another dozen stand.  And finally, further away, another section without multi-story towers, where the typical cranes and industrial areas for shipping are laid out.

Compared to Panama, where all the big cargo ships were lining up to enter the lake and the canal, this place is laid back.  There are a couple of cargo ships, and our liner, and dozens of small craft, but that’s about it.  We’ve rounded the point  and rather than the city standing on a hill, it looks as if the entire thing is at sea level.  Oh, the temperature is about 10-15 degrees cooler than it was in Panama – quite pleasant. By about 11:30, we were docked, lots of folks were trotting off, and we went to lunch.  I did watch the crew loading a person on a stretcher into an ambulance; that’s a heck of a way to end a cruise.  They didn’t look rushed, so it probably wasn’t a crisis, but how unfortunate.  Given our passenger demographics, it’s probably not unusual.Came back to the room, where Hank hit the sack; I went to the balcony to watch the musicians, dancers, and other “native” folk in costume who were performing for the groups that came out to head for the tour busses.  They were there for over an hour, so I took a couple of pictures and settled in to finish another novel.  Having accomplished that, I took the book down to donate to the library, then went up to the track to walk my mile.  It was a warm one, and I came back to the room to cool down on the balcony, followed by a nap. 

Dinner was quiet; Hank had lamb, I had a blackened tilapia.  I did get two desserts, though – one was a white chocolate bread pudding, which wasn’t nearly as good as the black and white the night before; and the other was an almond date cake, which was fairly decent.  Hank was walking without his cane by this time, and we ambled down to the sports bar for a while to watch a couple more games.  I went down to buy photos, and it took forever to scour the hundreds of pictures on the walls for the past week.  When I got back up to the bar, John and Donna had arrived.  She was in the market for a watch, but the shops weren’t open yet (we hadn’t left the harbor).  Eventually, they did open, and she went to look for her watch, and I checked out the colognes for Hank.  The satellite died again, so we went up to bed, and John and Donna probably headed for the casino.

Day 9: Santa Marta.  We docked at about 8 a.m., and our tour was scheduled to leave at 8:30, so Donna and I were on the pier by 8:15.  We found our bus, and then we sat. And sat.  The bus was full, but we were on time south of the U.S. border, it seems.  After leaving the dock area, the bus meandered through the streets of Santa Marta and nearby areas.  We turned into a narrow street (being a colonial town, nearly all were narrow) and passed a young mother sitting on the curb.  I thought she was begging at first, but she was breast feeding, just sitting on the street.  Didn’t seem to bother anyone passing by.

Our bus had to scrape by several other busses, trucks, and tons of motorcycles in the course of our drive, occasionally jumping up the curb to pass on the sidewalk. The town is much older and smaller than Cartagena; few skyscrapers dot the landscape, although there is construction everywhere.  We passed a couple of guys hand-creating mosaics in the esplanade, while traffic swirled around them.

The businesses and houses throughout the city are the small hacienda-style places, where little can be seen past the tiny wrought iron covered patios in the front.  There’s also a lot of the urban barbed wire and glass embedded in concrete at the tops of the walls and on the roofs.  Less graffiti than I’m used to, though. The current unemployment rate is 9.8%, down from about 15% recently.  Our guide mentioned that they have about 6 levels of economic separation, and the lowest 3 get some forms of assistance, with the lowest getting free health care, and additional assistance.  All students upon graduating from high school have mandatory 18 month government service, as police cadets or military service.

I, of course, spent my time checking out the flora of the city.  The climate, as mentioned earlier, is much drier, and outside of town we saw hillsides with prickly pear, saguaro, and tough scrub trees, like cedar.  In town, residents obviously try to make the urban environment cooler and greener.  Trees noted included raintree, jacaranda, powderpuff, and a magnolia variety I’m not familiar with; only the raintree was flowering at this time.  Lots of palm varieties and banyan were common. Hibiscus were blooming occasionally, and bougainvillea fairly extensively.  We passed a garden center, and petunias were on sale, although I couldn’t imagine them lasting in the heat at this date – we registered in the 90s, and they don’t last past March in Texas. 

We finally arrived at the park which was the only stop on our two-hour tour.  Simon Bolivar, the Liberator of the Caribbean and South America, had made his home for a short time before his death of tuberculosis in Santa Marta.  His home and farm has become a park, with statues, the rooms and outbuildings, and lots of walkways filled with a variety of plants.  I watched an iguana clamber up a large banyan; the iguana was about 3 feet long, when you counted the huge tail.

In the main plaza, a group of 6 dancers and 5 musicians, all teens or early 20s, performed almost non-stop for the hordes of tour busses and school children parading through the area.  The dancers did two different types of dancing; the first, the more European-oriented dancing with the full skirts that the ladies hold out and fan, vaguely reminiscent at times of flamenco in the steps and the swirling.  The young men dress as campesinos in white, with their hats used as accessories.  All were barefoot while dancing.  After a costume change, they appeared to transform into a much more African-related style of dance.  The costumes were much briefer, there were more acrobatics, and in general, a more earthy, tribal style. They must be able to eat whatever they want, given the amount of effort they put into the dancing!

At this point, one of the group pointed out to the tour guide that this was supposed to be a two-hour tour, and we were past that point and wanted to go back to the ship.  He seemed surprised, but we headed back to the bus.  I was anxious to get back because Hank expected me at 10:30, and it was already that. Then this same lady chatted up the guide to get him to stop the bus in the middle of town, run with her across the boulevard into a shop, and let her buy a couple of tee shirts!  The rest of us jokingly tried to get the bus driver to go on without them, and I told Donna the guide had just lost my tip.  After they got back, we arrived without incident, and boarded the ship, but it was noon by then.

I had to stop in the ship’s bay to get Hank some insulin; though I had counted his pills and got refills before we left, he miscalculated on one of his liquid meds, and we couldn’t go 6 more days without him landing in a coma or something.  $130.00 later, I had my vial, and he and I went to lunch.  (When we got home, I found the rest of the stuff in the refrigerator - it just didn't get packed.)  Then we came back to the room so he could take a shower.  He took another nap instead, and I went to the balcony to read.

 I heard from another person in the elevator that their group had been put on a bus and ended up at a police station, where the police then put them on another bus and sent them back to the pier!  I guess we were lucky.  And a lot of the tours in Cartegena had stories about people boarding the busses to try to sell stuff, and the drivers and tour guides letting them. The following day, I heard another bus tour horror story, about an “easy” tour full of people with walkers, that had to hike for a mile and a half almost straight up! Sure puts a question mark on Carnival’s judgment on excursions.

Went down to the sports bar to watch more ballgames, then did dinner (and danced to YMCA), then back to the ballgames.  We were up till 10:30, woo-hoo!  Rhonda and Brian caught us at the elevator as we were going up, and Rhonda tried to talk us into going to a show – fat chance for us.

Day 10: at sea. Heading due north for the next three days, so we’re in open seas, and doing a bit of rolling.  Hope the temperature stays moderate.  We’ve been keeping an eye on the weather maps on the telly, but it’s hard to tell just what it’s like till you are actually there. Went up on deck 11 to the track, intending to walk, but the wind was so fierce I almost couldn’t move.  I looked like a tv weatherman during one of our storms.  Went down to deck 10, which wasn’t quite so intense, and managed to walk there, passing the smokers at each lap (one of the few smoking areas is up there, set aside for those poor desperate souls).  Inside, I attempted tai chi at my spot where I can do it barefoot.  A speaker right at my ear was gifting me with tunes from Grease, and the two spa pools on the other side were splashing water out of one and into the other.  Not the easiest place to concentrate and keep your balance!

Went into the buffet to grab a sandwich, and ran into Dajana, one of our night waiters.  She’s from Bosnia-Hercegovina, and so I tried to dredge up my few phrases of whatever they call the language that they all use in the Baltics.  I don’t think they choose to call it Slavic, but that’s close.  Anyway, instead of “thank you,” I said “you’re welcome,” but she promised to work on it with me. Travel can not only be broadening (mind as well as tummy), it can break down social barriers!Got The Gupton to awaken, and took him to brunch.  We were sitting at a table for 8, and excluding me, as the youngest, there was Hank, with his congestive heart failure and diabetes; a lady from Austin, who had diabetes and was bipolar; her traveling companion, who showed up with a bloody Mary (but I never got any physical report on her!); a gent from Wichita Falls, who had left his wife up at the buffet so he could get tomato soup, which he loves and she doesn’t; and a couple from Idaho, he of which just had spinal surgery and she was blind in one eye and had two bad knees.  This kind of gives you an example of the demographics of the cruise.  To be sure, there were people under 50, and some with young children and teens, but they were definitely in the minority.  Most were in their 70s and 80s; probably over 200 of the men weighed as much as Hank or much more; more of the women were heavy than thin. There were lots of Viet Vet caps and tee shirts; there was a small contingent of LGBT types; probably 80% of the ship’s complement were Texan.  You cannot believe the number of canes, walkers, wheelchairs, and scooters.

Anyway, my waiter was I Kekut, and I guessed correctly that he was the 4^th child.  He taught me to say thank you in Balinese (mamasskete, if you’ll forgive the spelling) and I plan to surprise Gehde, my Bali waiter, at dinner.  After that, he called Hank I Wayan and me Ni Wayan for the rest of the meal.  This was a brunch menu: Hank had steak and eggs and a banana cream pie; I had something called Hen Diavolo, which was middling, and a caramel cheesecake which was not really cheesecake or caramel, and was layered with what looked like oreo cookie crumbles.  sigh.

Took Hank back to the room to crash.  I finished my latest novel, and tossed it into the library.  Then I went to the sports bar, where I almost saw a half a ballgame before the satellite went off one time too often, and sent me back upstairs to read.

Got Hank awake for supper, and we dined on pasta with mushrooms and a duck consommé  (for me) and a Thai shrimp soup and pork chop (for him).  Then I got to dance with the waiters again, and we went down to the sports bar.  Rhonda and Brian found us there, and we had a round of drinks before they went to the comedy club.  I ran over to buy Hank some cologne he wanted, and about 2 hours later, realized that I had lost my card AGAIN.  By then I had gone up to the room, into the casino to the john, etc., etc.  Took Hank’s insulin bag to guest services and got the nice man to give me yet another card (Namaste, Sukankhar!).

 Day 11: at sea.  In the middle of the night I got up for the necessary, and there was a nice letter from the captain, stating that we were detouring at 5 a.m. for Grand Cayman to take someone to the hospital.  So glad I haven’t had to deal with that issue. 

Got up for good around 6:30, dressed, and went looking for a tai chi spot.  I ended up at the track on deck 11, where a ton of folks were walking and jogging, and one guy was doing his own exercise regimen.  I parked myself sort of next to him, inside the track, and we did our thing while everyone else did theirs.  Then one of the crew came out to do a morning stretch routine, and we abandoned our space so he could draw in all the 20-something women who had been on the track.  I then walked my nautical mile, and went downstairs for a shower.  Saw on the telly that it was raining and 55 in Houston.  It’s sunny and about 80 or so here.

Lunch was a late breakfast for Hank, pizza for me.  Great little pizza kiosk that tosses the dough and is open 24 hours.  Only had it this one time, though.  Hank thought the choices were too exotic.  We then went down for some basketball, and we got into conversations with different folks, usually guys, about sports; me, basketball; Hank, football.  Then we went upstairs, and I fell asleep in the sun on the balcony.  Got up for dinner, and they finally had escargot!  I had a dozen of the rich things, and then a chateaubriand.  Hank had shrimp and more shrimp.

Back down to the sports bar, and we met more folks and had more talks.  Someone came in and said it was pouring buckets outside.  We hadn’t noticed. John and Donna came in and then we got chatting with a lady who was drinking Long Beach tea – doesn’t have the tequila, and uses cranberry juice instead of the cola in the Long Islands.  Gonna try that one. 

Day 12 – at sea. Got up betimes, dressed and was on the track at 7.  Did my tai chi routine, then started my mile.  German lady on the track asked if I had been doing chi quong, and I said yes; she said her friend taught it.  People still lapped me like crazy.  Went downstairs to start the packing process and got pretty far; then to the library to drop off my last books (the ones I didn’t read…) Then time to get Hank up for breakfast; met with John and Donna for brunch.

Hank and I headed for basketball and after a game, he needed his nap, so I took him up and came back down to watch another one.  Then I came up for a snooze myself, and we got up and went down to dinner.  He had a full lobster again – said he didn’t know when he’d get another, so he might as well.  I had a crab cake and prime rib.  And then the waiters sang for us – lyrics slightly changed using “Jet Plane,” a song which holds so many memories for me in so many places that everytime I hear it, I start tearing up.  So here’s another one for the pile.  After that, we danced one last time: it started as the Macarena and segued into the chicken dance, and back!  It was a riot.  Then I hugged the crew and said thank you in French, Slavic, and Balinese, and we went to watch basketball. Indiana lost. Time to go put the bags out in the hall for pickup.

Debarkation day: Woke up at 6 and could see lights; by 7 we were in port starting the docking process. MUCH cooler, and slightly foggy/misty.  Passed the Carnival Freedom on the way to our dock, and people were hollering and waving back and forth (still kind of dark outside). Got my act together and woke Hank up; we have to be out of the cabin by 8:30.  He was not thrilled, of course.

Went to the dining room for one last leisurely meal; salmon was high on the list again.  Found out from our table mates that there were actually a total of 4 people who had needed hospitalization on our journey.  Finished the meal and joined the hundreds of others gathered all over the ship.  The debarkation schedule was kind of excellent; our bags were tagged with up to 30 different zones, and the off-loading was based on zone numbers, so they handled just under 100 people each 15 minutes or so.  If you had a high number (ours was 20) then you knew it would be a couple of hours before you needed to move.  So where did we go?  Sports bar, of course, so we worked in one more game.  Had bars on my phone again, so I sent a few notes. 

We headed to the deck area where we could leave.  I checked to make sure there were no steps, and Hank figured he could handle the walk, so we didn’t have to wait on a wheelchair.  He did very well, and only had to sit a couple of times before we got a porter, grabbed our bags, and headed through customs.  Rhonda and Brian were in line next to us, so we waved good-bye and headed to the shuttle to get us to the car.  At 12:01 we were leaving Galveston.  Stopped for lunch at Las Brisas to get our Mexican fix, and got home at 3:00.  All was well.