THINGS I LEARNED ON MY SUMMER VACATION, PART 2

Be very careful, or more astute than we were, when booking a Gray Line of Alaska tour.

The WORST day of the Alaska trip began with our disembarkation from the luxury Celebrity Millennium cruise ship to begin the Denali tour portion of our vacation.

The Gray Line of Alaska tour materials described a seamless transfer from ship to shore, where a luxury motor coach would transport us to Denali National Park.  A free shuttle was to meet us at the cruise terminal in Seward and take us to another nearby location to board our big, comfy motor coach (not some silly bus, mind you…a MOTOR COACH!) which would travel on to Anchorage where we would have a 90-minute stop at the Anchorage museum and lunch.  Then back on the coach, off we'd go toward Denali, including a 30-minute stop in the village of Talkeetna, and finally our destination, the Denali Princess Lodge.  A long day, but sounded fun!

Not so much.

First,  the free shuttle at the cruise terminal was nowhere to be found.  The guys both tried calling Gray Line's 800 number, only to be interminably on hold and then to find representatives completely befuddled by our predicament.  We were concerned because we had to meet the motor coach at a give time, which was fast approaching.  Finally, our travel companion just called a taxi and we were on our way.

Once we got to THAT destination, there was still nothing in sight that said "Gray Line" -- no building, bus, or person.  Hub went inside a store nearby and they said, "That's your bus out there at the curb."  That bus said "Park Connection"…how were we to know?  But inquiring with the young woman standing near it with a clipboard, sure enough our names were listed.

We gals got on board, hoping to find a seat not completely in the back, since we were late arrivals.  We lucked out and were only about 1/3 of the way back.  The guys stayed with our luggage and ended up helping load since the driver was well into his 70's, with a hitch in his giddy-up and rather dazed and confused by the task at hand.  Our guys mostly wanted to be sure our luggage made it on to our bus.

Once seated, we realized our motor coach was not especially luxurious.  It was a bit long in the tooth and rather cramped -- like sitting in coach on a crowded flight and everyone insists on reclining their seats into your lap.  (As was also the case on the bus).   Our driver looked a bit frail to be the one in charge of this behemoth vehicle, but what choice did we have?  We gripped our armrests and hung on.  And a good thing too, since whenever he decided to offer some narration about sights along the way, he started to veer in the direction he was pointing.  At one point we were drifting into oncoming traffic on a 4-lane (no median) highway as he tried to spot some bison that sometimes wander into a field.  He quickly corrected and said, "Whoa!  I need to keep my eyes on the road!"  Good idea.

We were eager for our museum stop in Anchorage.  Yet, upon arrival all the luggage was unloaded and lined up on the curb while the bus went on to the airport to deliver other passengers there.  Apparently we were not all on the same tour.  We expressed some concern about our suitcases just sitting on the city sidewalk, but those in charge assured us "someone will stay nearby" and commented about our consternation, "You must be from a big city or something."   Then, asking about the museum, we  were told we were free to go in if we wanted to or we could go find a spot for lunch, just be back in an hour to hop back on the bus.  Hub explained that the museum was part of our tour and that's when we got the message.  Nope.

"I hear that all the time", the gal said.  "We are not a tour, we offer transportation for Gray Line.  We just take you there."  No museum unless we wanted to pay the $20 admission like everyone else, and lunch was on our own dime too.  We skipped the museum and went to lunch.  Those who drink, drank.

Meeting back up with the bus at the appointed hour, we watched as our luggage was re-loaded and were relieved to see the driver had changed.  This guy was a sprightly 60-ish year-old with a better command of the process.  Some modicum of confidence was restored.

Back on the bus, he did a good job of some narration, but the cramped conditions and long, long hours of riding ahead of us were still an endurance test.   At least we had our stop in the picturesque-sounding Talkeetna to anticipate.  But, once we reached that turn-off, we were told we'd just be dropping folks off at a resort there -- 15 miles from the main highway.  Our 30 minutes in Talkeetna was actually a 30 mile round trip to drop off some passengers who were staying there.  We were not happy.

Then came the music.  The driver announcing he'd "keep quiet now for awhile" was a welcome idea since much of the narration had become personal stories of one nature or another.  But in an effort to keep us all entertained, he said he'd put on some music.

I don't know about  you, but I really rail against the current cultural expectation that I have to be "entertained" every minute of every day with pictures and noise.  Airports, doctor's offices, vet clinics, restaurants -- TVs and Muzak constantly bombarding me with programming not of my choosing nor often of my liking.  So, our driver decided we'd all enjoy a tour of Europe and started with a playlist of smaltzy "Italian" music, following later with another selection of French-themed drivel.  At some point I remember accordions…and then finally, as we approached our destination, Country and Western.  That was when our friend turned to us from across the aisle and said, "Just shoot me."

We had left Seward at 10:30 a.m.  We finally arrived at the Denali Princess Lodge at 9:30 p.m.  Exhausted, hungry, frustrated…we found a beautiful lodge, a big resort with shops and restaurants, and comfortable accommodations, all owned by Princess/Carnival Corporation.   And the sun was still shining brightly, adding to our disorientation.  We ate late and went to bed around 11:30 -- dusk.

Strange day.  But memorable.  And now laughable.  Just beware Gray Line.

At least, that's the view from here….