I had set the alarm last night and so woke early, climbing up to Deck 19 for my morning walk and to watch the sunrise. I had no sooner opened the door to the outside deck when I realized it was raining- no, make that pouring outside. I turned back to the elevator, instead going down to Deck 7 with its covered promenade to walk. It can get quite crowded with walkers a bit later in the day, but that early (before 7am), there were just three of us, and a slew of crew members setting out the cushions on the teak chairs and vacuuming up the water that had managed to find its way even onto the covered deck. There never was a sunrise, but it was quite interesting to clearly see the large areas of rain. G had picked up something from the Passenger Services Desk earlier in the cruise that had a table of Distances to the Horizon from the various decks on the ship. Deck 7, where I walked this morning, is 67 feet above the surface of the water, and one can see 11 miles in the distance to the horizon. Deck 19, where I usually walk, is 172 feet above the surface of the water and it's 17.5 miles to the horizon. (So, walking on the jogging track up there, one has a 35 mile view...quite impressive).
Anyway (I got sidetracked a bit, because we really did find that table of Distances to the Horizon very interesting and I've been wanting to share that information with you)...what I had started to say is that I could see huge pockets of rain, and then, a little ahead or behind them, clearing, then another pocket of rain. It was kind of cool to see, and the clear spots gave me hope that perhaps this wasn't going to be an all day rain.
(I won't make you wait. It hasn't been. It's been sunny and hot and beautiful today).
When I returned to the cabin, G was up and getting ready to start his day. After a quick shower, I joined him in the dining room for breakfast. Waiter Rodolpho once again took good care of us, and we were saddened to hear he's at the end of his contract and going home on turnaround day on the 17th. When he returns to ships, he's going to join the Sun Princess, which is being home-ported in Japan, as he is fluent in Japanese (which makes perfect sense). But we will miss him during the remainder of our months on the Emerald.
After breakfast, I thought about going to Zumba...but that was as close to it as I got. Since I was showered for the day, and had already sent out laundry this morning, I didn't want to get all hot and sweaty again so soon. We are now entering into our two "no laundry" days...with this cruise coming to an end in two days, we can't send laundry on the last day of this cruise and turnaround day, which is the first day of the next cruise. There is strong incentive to try to keep things relatively clean for the time being.
Maybe we could still send laundry tomorrow, but I think we're both afraid to ask our cabin steward, Johnathon, about it. Which brings me to my next topic: The Steward Nazi. Now, don't get be wrong...Johnation is a good steward (17 years with Princess!), in some ways even better than our beloved Cristian from last year. For example, we don't have to ask for things...he just seem to intuit that we need them (more napkins for our minibar, a steady supply of laundry bags and forms). We are lacking for almost nothing. But he makes it clear that certain things are to be done certain ways. For example, when G ordered chocolate covered strawberries (an Elite perk) for the first formal night, he simply handed the completed form to Johnathon. Oh no, no, no, no! Johnathon told him most sternly that the form was to be left on our doorknob for room service to pick up. A bit chastised, G came back in the cabin and relayed this to me. I asked if he had pointed out to Johnathon that it said right on the form that it should be handed to our cabin steward by 9am (and which is the way we've always done it). G said he didn't dare. So last night, when it came time to fill out the form to order chocolate covered strawberries for tonight's formal night, G made a great production of goose-stepping to the door of our cabin, opening it with precision, hanging the form on the doorknob, and goose-stepping backwards back into our cabin. It was the Soup Nazi episode on Seinfeld all over again and I was collapsing in giggles on the bed.
Later this morning, G was showering when he peeked his head out and opened the bathroom door (entirely possible to do without leaving the shower, the bathroom is so tiny). He called for me to ask Johnathon if he had shower gel on his cart of supplies. I hesitated a second, and then said, "I can't. I'm afraid. I won't do it right and it will be: No. Shower. Gel. For. You! (From Seinfeld, for those not in the know). And once again G and I were howling with laughter.
We'll enjoy our Steward Nazi. And we'll certainly be well trained on our next cruise. We'll be good little passengers, asking for nothing. He might even have us making our own beds and cleaning our own toilet by the end of the cruise.
Anyway (I got sidetracked a bit, because we really did find that table of Distances to the Horizon very interesting and I've been wanting to share that information with you)...what I had started to say is that I could see huge pockets of rain, and then, a little ahead or behind them, clearing, then another pocket of rain. It was kind of cool to see, and the clear spots gave me hope that perhaps this wasn't going to be an all day rain.
(I won't make you wait. It hasn't been. It's been sunny and hot and beautiful today).
When I returned to the cabin, G was up and getting ready to start his day. After a quick shower, I joined him in the dining room for breakfast. Waiter Rodolpho once again took good care of us, and we were saddened to hear he's at the end of his contract and going home on turnaround day on the 17th. When he returns to ships, he's going to join the Sun Princess, which is being home-ported in Japan, as he is fluent in Japanese (which makes perfect sense). But we will miss him during the remainder of our months on the Emerald.
After breakfast, I thought about going to Zumba...but that was as close to it as I got. Since I was showered for the day, and had already sent out laundry this morning, I didn't want to get all hot and sweaty again so soon. We are now entering into our two "no laundry" days...with this cruise coming to an end in two days, we can't send laundry on the last day of this cruise and turnaround day, which is the first day of the next cruise. There is strong incentive to try to keep things relatively clean for the time being.
Maybe we could still send laundry tomorrow, but I think we're both afraid to ask our cabin steward, Johnathon, about it. Which brings me to my next topic: The Steward Nazi. Now, don't get be wrong...Johnation is a good steward (17 years with Princess!), in some ways even better than our beloved Cristian from last year. For example, we don't have to ask for things...he just seem to intuit that we need them (more napkins for our minibar, a steady supply of laundry bags and forms). We are lacking for almost nothing. But he makes it clear that certain things are to be done certain ways. For example, when G ordered chocolate covered strawberries (an Elite perk) for the first formal night, he simply handed the completed form to Johnathon. Oh no, no, no, no! Johnathon told him most sternly that the form was to be left on our doorknob for room service to pick up. A bit chastised, G came back in the cabin and relayed this to me. I asked if he had pointed out to Johnathon that it said right on the form that it should be handed to our cabin steward by 9am (and which is the way we've always done it). G said he didn't dare. So last night, when it came time to fill out the form to order chocolate covered strawberries for tonight's formal night, G made a great production of goose-stepping to the door of our cabin, opening it with precision, hanging the form on the doorknob, and goose-stepping backwards back into our cabin. It was the Soup Nazi episode on Seinfeld all over again and I was collapsing in giggles on the bed.
Later this morning, G was showering when he peeked his head out and opened the bathroom door (entirely possible to do without leaving the shower, the bathroom is so tiny). He called for me to ask Johnathon if he had shower gel on his cart of supplies. I hesitated a second, and then said, "I can't. I'm afraid. I won't do it right and it will be: No. Shower. Gel. For. You! (From Seinfeld, for those not in the know). And once again G and I were howling with laughter.
We'll enjoy our Steward Nazi. And we'll certainly be well trained on our next cruise. We'll be good little passengers, asking for nothing. He might even have us making our own beds and cleaning our own toilet by the end of the cruise.
And that got us into a discussion about possibly the best comedy of all times, Seinfeld. and how many times in our daily lives we still quote from it (my favorite, from the low flow shower heads episode: I don't like the sound of that!, said with great intonation).
At 11:30am, G coaxed me into attending a French class with deputy cruise director Frenchie, who is, not surprisingly, from France. More specifically, she is from the countryside in the Loire Valley, and I can tell you she is a delight (which is the reason G was so enthralled with her from her class on an earlier sea day this cruise). She teaches as much about the culture and the food as she does the language, and I loved every minute of her class. She is witty and funny and I hope she continues these French classes on future cruises. She said she had started teaching them when the ship was in Montreal, but they were so well received that even now, with the ship in the Caribbean and not even sailing to the French islands of St. Bart's and St. Martin, they decided to offer them again.
After talking about French food for 45 minutes, it was time to have lunch. I have to admit that G is being brave this cruise, trying all sorts of food that he certainly wouldn't eat at home. I guess it's the best way- the only way- to deal with each menu at least 10 more times this winter. He had a lamb ragout starter (unheard of for him) before falling back on the very familiar, Brunswick Stew (from his neck of the woods in Brunswick County, Virginia).
After lunch we went to a Navigation at Sea lecture, and as educational as it was, we had to skip out a bit early to get to wine tasting. It worked out fine (and we'll remember this for the future)...we arrived 10 minutes late for wine tasting and they were just getting started. As usual, I gave G my whites and he gave me his reds, and we were both content. The sommelier on board the Emerald Princess is named Thai, and he's from- wait for it- Detroit, Michigan! First, it's a rarity to have anyone from the US working on board, and then Detroit isn't exactly Napa Valley, but somehow it all worked, and Thai gave the best lecture we'd ever been to regarding wine (and we've been to a few, all over the world). It was a very enjoyable 35 minutes.
If, by now, you're getting the impression that there's a lot to do on sea days...you're right. But cruise director Peter Tredgett seems to squeeze even more than the normal number of activities into a sea day. I've met three members of his cruise staff: Alissa (Leesh), Ryan, and, of course, deputy cruise director Frenchie, and I predict we're going to have a very enjoyable few months on board.
Tonight: formal night- Brezza marinas (a gin and lime drink) and herbed goat cheese in Skywalkers, lobster for dinner, and a brand new production show, Disco- Blame it on the Boogie. A new production show is a huge thing; they seem to stay around for 4 or more years. I hope we like it (but feel pretty sure we will).
Photo 1: another cruise ship at sea, about as close as we ever see one. We think it's a Holland America ship
Photo 2: look what's on the lunch menu- Brunswick stew, comfort food for G