THINGS I LEARNED ON MY SUMMER VACATION, PART 3

Southeast Alaska looks a lot like Washington and other places we've visited in the west.  On our cruise, the Inside Passage route from Vancouver to Skagway afforded some stunning scenery.  Beautiful blue waters, emerald green hills and craggy mountains, waterfalls galore. Yet, we often said, "This looks like the San Juan Islands."  Or, "This reminds me of Lake Chelan."  Rafters on the river looked like they were shooting the Tieton.

Once in Denali National Park, the scenery changed to wide open spaces and enormous vistas -- reminding us of Glacier National Park or Yosemite.

It's funny how the brain makes sense of things by comparing them to other known things.  That's why meeting someone often prompts one to say, "She reminds me of my sister"..or friend..or co-worker.  When I met Alaska it reminded me of other places I already know, which surprised me.  I had expected the National Geographic Channel "TV version" of Alaska -- all herds of wildlife and calving glaciers, fields of wildflowers, and salmon jumping upstream with grizzlies patrolling the riverbank while fly fishers hauled in record-setting fishes.

I know those travelogues are real and even if I didn't see it, it was happening somewhere.  (Our travel companions did go fly fishing.)  But I realized on some naive level I expected to see all of it up close and personal at every turn.

We saw very little wildlife:  a few bald eagles, a caribou from about a mile away and a few moose -- one up close and 2-3 just outside of Wasilla along the train tracks.  We were lucky enough to see a black bear up close catching salmon in a stream near the Mendenhall Glacier.  We were on a boardwalk adjacent to the parking lot and the stream ran under a footbridge which is where the bear was.  Hoards of tourists 3-4 deep jostled with cameras.  Hub got a nice video.  I was too short to see it "in person" over all the other people crammed onto the rail of the bridge.   Not a postcard sort of sighting.

Once I settled into expecting the familiar, I could appreciate the nuances of Alaska that are different.  Tundra for one.  It's bouncy.  We stuck our hands into a hole and only a few inches below the surface soil it was frigid cold, though warm enough for us to be wearing T-shirts that day in the sun.



Glaciers are another.   We saw the Mendenhall Glacier first, which terminates into a lovely lake fed by a pounding waterfall.

Yet, it was the Hubbard Glacier that was the highlight of the trip for me.  Our ship got to within 1/2 mile, which I understand is the closest it has ever been able to go.  The early morning was calm as we floated through beautiful ice floes.  The captain was able to turn the ship in slooooow 360-degree circles so all got a view, no matter where you stood.  We saw and heard the calving ice.  Most observers were silent as we absorbed the enormity of this amazing natural phenomenon.







And Denali (Mt. McKinley) itself is something to see -- if you can.  It is often shrouded in fog and clouds - only 30% of visitors ever see it.  We were lucky.  We were 60 miles away, but there it was and there is no denying its majesty and enormity.










The other thing I loved was the domed train we rode from Denali National Park back to Anchorage.  It was an all-day trip as the bus had been, but there was no comparison.  It was so much fun to sit "up top" and have the panoramic view.  The service was excellent, the intermittent narration just enough, the trip to the dining car downstairs for a light lunch felt elegant (white table cloths, leather bound menus!) and fun.

Back in Anchorage, we had another 24 hours before flying to Seattle.  We found a couple of great restaurants and coffee shops and visited two breweries (for Hub's microbrew-tasting hobby).  We found a waterfront bike and walking trail that was quiet and lovely.  A nice, mellow end to the trip.

And this, my friends, ends the summer vacation series.

The biggest lesson I learned was to appreciate exactly where I live.  After 32 years of living in this vacationland of two mountain ranges, an enormous Sound, dozens of rivers, the Pacific Ocean, lakes, lakes, lakes and a big metropolitan city along with picturesque small towns, it's easy to take it a bit for granted.  I am always appreciative of where I live, but I do expect I'll see mountains when I wake up and the waterfront of our town, and the river I drive next to on the way to my Yoga studio.  It's just the backdrop to my life.  After this trip, I see it all with the eyes of a tourist and can feel the amazement I felt in 1982 when we decided to settle in this part of the country.  Two young "kids" from flat cornfield country Illinois looked at each other and said, "Can you believe we get to live HERE?!?"  Yep, we do.  And we are blessed.

At least, that's the view from here… ©

THINGS I LEARNED ON MY SUMMER VACATION, PART 1

HEY YA, HI YA!  I'm home from my Alaskan Cruise Adventure!  I am no longer a cruise virgin; I am one of "them", the hoards of mostly 50-60+somethings who disembark enmass in the early morning hours lining up for their motor coach, minivan, bus, train, hiking, biking, boating, flying "shore excursions".  In spite of my attempts to NOT look like a cruise tourist, there was no denying my too-new hiking boots (but PURPLE!  So CUTE!), my tell-tale backpack (but  31 years old and pretty beat up; I've taken it on every trip I've ever taken since 1983) and my look of confusion and gullibility.  (Sure…I guess I need a new Made in Alaska coffee mug filled with chocolate caribou "chips".)

Here's what I can tell you about my cruise experience:  Those ships are enormous and luxurious.  The Celebrity Millennium is a floating 5-star resort, with 2000 guests and 1000 staff.  We were greeted onboard with champagne, mimosas, and fresh squeezed orange juice…and it was pretty much like that the whole time.  The food was amazing, prepared and presented like you'd find at the best fine dining restaurant; the decor was glamorous; the activities and amenities plentiful and varied; our veranda stateroom was essentially a large bedroom with a sitting area and a balcony and was super comfortable (I want that cushy mattress!);  the service was impeccable.

Interestingly, the attention to clean hands bordered on OCD.  ("There will be NO norovirus outbreak on our ship!")  Purell has a sweet deal with its cruise line contracts.  Your little purse-sized bottle is a drop in the bucket compared to the ubiquitous self-dispensing Purell machines at every stairway, elevator, restaurant, bar, and boarding location on a cruise ship.  My hands have never been so disinfected; I believe I could have performed surgery.

Yes, I do see the appeal of this form of luxurious transportation.  For, to me, that's what it was.  My hotel was taking me to the places I wanted to visit.  It was weird to leave one port of call, have a little dinner, see a show, then go to bed and wake up berthed in a new town.  I felt like a kid who sleeps through the road trip.  It was a bit disorienting.  In addition, I feel like I missed some of the scenery reputed to be so beautiful on the Inside Passage route.  I was asleep!

On our land excursions, which had to be scheduled according to when the "hotel" was setting sail, I felt I only scratched the surface of each place we visited.  It was a quick look-around (several hours, but time went fast), snap a bunch of photos, and back on the ship.  Go, go, go.

I saved time, however, by not being the type of woman who likes expensive fine jewelry.  At every single port of call, the "tourist shops" are lined up for blocks  immediately in front of the cruise ship docks.  And the first line of shops are jewelry stores.  We were stumped by this…why would Ketchikan, Alaska be the sapphire and diamond capital of North America?  Well, come to find out…the cruise ships and jewelry stores have a little thing going.  I had heard that the cruise lines actually OWN these stores, then that was disputed, so I'm not sure.  But the cruise lines certainly promote the stores and I've read they receive huge kick-backs on sales as well as collect hefty advertising dollars by recommending stores in the daily onboard circulars that are delivered to our stateroom doors the night before we arrive at the next port of call.  Maybe you can get a deal; I don't know.  But the cruise lines are making a tidy little profit from this strange jewelry concession.

(Speaking of owning things…did you know that Carnival Corporation owns Carnival Cruise Lines, Holland American Cruise Lines, Princess Cruise Lines and a bunch of European cruise lines as well as shore excursion companies, hotel franchises, etc.?  And maybe some jewelry stores…)

I know you are wondering if I got seasick, since that was my biggest fear (even bigger than looking like a stereotypical cruise ship tourist).  No…not really.  But maybe a little.  We had perfect weather, so seas were mostly calm.  As seas go.  The Inside Passage, being protected from the open ocean was generally smooth as glass.  But about 12 hours after first setting sail, at 4 a.m., we went through a narrow passage that included howling winds and swirling currents that bounced us around a bit.  My anxiety soared, so I put on my scopolamine patch and popped half a Xanax.  All was well, except I slept on and off most of the next day.  We were "at sea" making our way from Vancouver to Ketchikan, so at least I didn't miss any stops in my stupor.  The other day "at sea" was at the end of the trip when we left Skagway and headed across the Gulf of Alaska (south of which is the North Pacific Ocean, so really just a lot of big water) to Seward.  It wasn't terrible for most people probably, but when that much water is pushing toward shore in big swells, your boat is gonna rock and roll a bit.  So, I hit the meds again, and stayed mostly in my stateroom trying to keep my eye on the horizon and not move around too much.  I tried to join my companions at dinner, but left after the appetizer, feeling queasy.  I was happy to be at the dock in Seward when I woke up the next morning, even if it was raining (our only day of rain).

So, would I cruise again?  There is no denying that the beautifully appointed ship, the "how may I serve you?" staff, so many fun and interesting things to see and do are a feast for the senses.  Yet, me being me, I really liked just being alone and quiet in my stateroom and on my private veranda too.

I didn't take advantage of many of the ship's attractive offerings -- never used the spa (I decided not to spend the extra money for a massage I could get cheaper at home), the gym, the bars (since I don't drink), the pool, the library, the on-board gift/jewelry/Apple store shopping, the casino, the late-night games and festivities.  Many of these would have been fun, but I was either off ship during the day or eating/sleeping with not much "free" time.   As for the amazing food selections, I was anxious about feeling seasick, so I didn't eat all that much and the choices I made were rather bland -- so I lost 2 pounds on the trip.  (That's a good thing, but far from typical, I know.)  I tired of being on a schedule for meals and sailing times.  I did fine with my wardrobe of "smart casual" clothing for the restaurants, but it felt dressed up to me and I was much more comfortable in my shore duds -- hiking boots, comfy Yoga pants, and a sweater.   I felt like I had to pack too much to create the necessary outfits, which I guess means I must dress mostly like a slob at home in my weird "get-ups".

I think ultimately I'm a little bit of a reclusive, nausea-phobic hypochondriac, sloppy-casual landlubber who likes spending a longer time in one place, on my own schedule.  (But I'm still lovable, right?)

Mostly I'm happy to have shared the experience with Hub and our friends.  I was leery about traveling with other people since my inner Introvert needs a lot of recovery time after extended socializing.  But we gave each other enough space to have separate experiences as well as having  a lot of fun shared times.  Every day I looked forward to our dinners together.  We laughed so much, especially when things went awry, and will have memories to share over the coming years that are priceless to me.  And that made the whole cruise worth it.  I feel closer and more connected to our friends... and any activity that contributes to meaningful, lasting relationships is one that is worth doing.

At least, that's the view from here…. ©

STAY TUNED FOR MORE VACATION REPORTS:  Bus from Hell, Denali Tour,  Favorite Sites, Arctic Olympics!

A THREE HOUR TOUR….A THREE HOUR TOUR….

"Just sit right back and you'll hear a tale, 
A tale of a fateful trip 
That started from this tropic port 
Aboard this tiny ship."  
Gilligan's Island Theme Song



Over time, I've ridiculed people who take vacations on cruise ships.  It's only fair that I am about to eat my words -- we leave Friday on a cruise.

I have been worn down by the slow and persistent trickle of cajoling from friends and family who tell me I'll love it.  I am struggling mightily to believe them.  Philosophically I'm not thrilled with the luxurious excesses most cruise ships tout as "amenities".  I'm not thrilled with non-stop people, activities, and entertainments.  I'm not thrilled with "formal nights", but I understand we can opt out.  Yet, even standard cruise ship-suggested attire for dining is expected to be "smart casual".  I'm not sure my casual is smart enough.  I'm especially not thrilled with the possibility of seasickness.  (Oh, believe me, I've read all the online first-person narratives about this!)

I am thrilled with sharing this adventure with Hub and our travel companions, two good friends and enthusiastic cruisers, who are among those who assure me I'll be fine and it will be fun.

So far, I've actually paid very little attention to the pre-cruise planning.   (I've sort of taken to comparing it to a colonoscopy prep -- rather unpleasant and messy -- but tolerable if you don't give it too much thought.)  Hub has spent hours (many, many hours!) navigating the "shore excursion" options, shopping and comparing trips and fees, making reservations, etc.  I believe he has this all worked out and I believe I said "yes" to what has been decided.  I rejected any open water boat trips (the whales will have to breach without me) and small helicopter glacial landings (puh-leeze!)  I think we will be on sightseeing buses and trains and trams and hiking trails and if the weather permits, a kayak trip on some bay or other.  (In spite of my fear of big water, I do love a protected bay and an afternoon of kayaking).

I'm very much looking forward to seeing Alaska; never been there.  People say it's quite wonderful -- as in truly "full of wonder".   After seven days of cruising and various ports of call, which will include those shore excursion tours, we get off the ship in Seward and hop on a motor coach for a trip to a lodge in Denali for 2 nights, then a train to Anchorage where we spend a night, then a flight back home.  Whew!

To most this sounds like a perfect trip.  To me, well.  It sounds like a lot of "going and doing" and not enough "being".  I like a lot of down time; quiet time; non-scheduled time; at home time, actually.  But I am open to being surprised and delighted by the whole thing.  I want to have a fabulous experience.  And attitude is so important in these matters….most matters, actually.

Besides, I have enough seasickness remedies in my carry-on to keep me in a twilight state of barely conscious alertness throughout the trip.  Yep, just like a colonoscopy.

At least, that's the view from here… ©

SO JOIN US HERE EACH WEEK MY FRIENDS, YOU'RE SURE TO GET A SMILE...

Aloha!  When I started this blog a little over a year ago, some of my first posts were from Kaua'i -- our annual respite from the Northwest drizzle.  We're back.

When we first started coming here 14 years ago, there were no cruise ships docking in Nawiliwili Bay. Then after a time, we noticed that Thursdays saw the dawn arrival of a huge ship and the swarm of "boat people", with their blue and white striped Norwegian Cruise Line towels, spread body-to-sweating-body upon "our" Kalapaki Beach.

 I don't begrudge anyone the pleasure of this sweet little beach.  But the operative word here is little.  It's just a crescent of sand on a small bay.  So all those extra people made me a feel a bit crowded in.  They seemed to have no qualms about spreading those towels out about 3 feet from my lounge chair.  We took to leaving for other parts of the island on Thursdays.

But for the past 2-3 years, there is no escape.  One of these behemoths arrives nearly every morning with the sunrise, making their "Kaua'i" stop on the Hawaiian Island cruise itinerary.  The shore tour buses caravan to the dock, picking up full loads of passengers to ferry to the many wondrous locales of the Garden Isle:  Wiamea Canyon (the "Grand Canyon" of Kaua'i); Hanalei (of Puff the Magic Dragon fame); Spouting Horn (the island's very own "Old Faithful"); Coconut Marketplace (tourist mall)...on and on.

But some people don't hop on the party buses. (We've heard group sing-alongs as they drive by -- oh such good cheer!)  Instead they make their way on shuttles or by foot (a couple miles) to Kalapaki Bay beach.  My beach.  Nearly every day.

We still stake out our palm-shaded lounge chairs early in the morning, an introvert's distance away from other people, and settle in for a day of ... nothing much.  But we know now to expect that we will soon be sharing space with cruisers of various stripe. (We've discovered the parts of the beach that are relatively less populous, so our quiet is usually fairly preserved, but still....).

I have written before about my anti-cruise bias.  I have never been on a cruise ship, which naturally makes me uniquely qualified to have a strong opinion.  I don't need to clutter my mind with facts based on actual experience.

So, here are my thoughts, based on my annual observations:

1.  I'm really, really delighted that cruise ships are ADA and senior-friendly.  Judging by the number of geriatric and variously-abled folks I see rolling and shuffling down the bricked walking path along the beach, I am grateful for them (and impressed, really) that they and their canes, walkers, and wheelchairs must be so well accommodated by cruise ships.  I truly admire these folks, really.  I think traveling is a pain in the butt even when strong and mobile.

2.  I am also INCREDIBLY happy that the cruise lines are doing something about the American obesity epidemic!   To presumably be hosting an enormous number of contestants on what must be "Biggest Loser" cruises, these ships offer a chance for folks to, you know, get in shape.  I believe the motto must be: "MORE VOLLEYBALL!!!  LESS BUFFET!!!"  At least, that's what I'm hoping, cuz there really is an over-representation of, well, "heavy-set" folk plopping down next to my chair.  I do admire their lack of body-image-shame.  Who says bikinis and speedos are just for the svelte?   (Also they have no fear of the sun -- the redder the better!)

3.  Carnival really is the "party line"!  Oh my!  Large groups of 20-30-somethings with nothing but beer and cigarettes to consume on shore day sure looks like capital "F" Fun!  Lots of laughter!  Lots of horseplay!  A little public amorous adventuring!  You can sleep when you are dead!  Party on!  (Carnival hardly ever stops here -- Kaua'i is far too tame for that crowd).

4.  Cruises are a boon to the resort wear industry.   Island cruise = new wardrobe!  Red, white, blue! Stripes!  Stripes! Stripes! Nautical!  Tropical!  Impossibly white tennis shoes!  Rhinestone-studded ball caps!  Home team logo T's!  Gaudy florals!!!  Inspiring!

5.  I get an international relations education.  Lots of different languages and customs abound.  Like just the other day, I watched as a foursome, speaking a language I did not recognize, spread out a dozen feet from me.  An attractive enough young man, wearing perfectly sensible board shorts, stood flexing and preening for a few moments, then reached toward his waistline, untied his shorts and let them descend to his ankles, exposing a most skimpy and REVEALING Speedo!  Emblazoned across his behind were the letters SRBIJA.  Smartphone at the ready, I did a quick Google search and discovered the origin of this mysterious language and predilection for an unusual display of national pride -- Serbia!  Da!

So, all in all, I guess the cruise lines are doing good in the world.  They are veritable floating cities, a cross-section of peoples and cultures and inter-generational good times.   We are the world!  We are the people!  But for some reason, I am still not convinced I'd be a happy cruiser.

I looked up the cost of one of these Hawaiian Island cruises -- about $2300 for 10 days.  I guess it's a good enough deal, if your idea of fun is sharing a floating barge of non-stop stimulation and distraction in the middle of the ocean with 2000-3000 people you don't know, won't meet, and many of whom you don't care to know anyway, with occasional stops for dash-about sightseeing (at extra cost), then back up the gangplank for another jaunt to more of the same....

Everyone has a price.  If it costs $2300 to buy a spot on one of these voyages, I might accept $5000 to agree to go.

At least, that's the view from here....©