Prepared Friday, December 7th
I have to admit...I had been dreading the act of physically moving all of our luggage through ICE, and then schlepping it through the parking garage over to the taxi stand. We had a lot of luggage when we left home; it's now grown to the point where we have four big suitcases; two rolling carryons weighted down with water bottles and cans of Coke (unused from our minibar setups), and yes, possibly some gin and rum we've accumulated along the way; the large beach bag filled with the over the door shoe rack and its contents; my backpack, heavy with my laptop and paperwork; and two 18-packs of Mountain Dew.
Well, in the end, it's done, and no one got hurt in the process (although I'll admit that I didn't confirm that with the taxi driver who heaved the luggage into his cab). The taxi driver also didn't give us much attitude when he discovered this fare was only to Terminal 26, and not to the Fort Lauderdale airport, and for that I am truly thankful. Let's hope we're as lucky on our return.
When we finally arrived at Terminal 26, we were handed an embarkation number and had no wait at all to check in and get our new ship's card. One thing we both particularly liked on Holland America (HAL) is that our security photos were taken right at check in, instead of when we boarded the ship. Although passengers with priority embarkation (as we have on Princess) and those who had arrived before us were already boarding, we had to wait about 20 minutes or so before our boarding group was called. Those 20 minutes gave us our first look at our fellow passengers.
Oh my. Now, HAL has a reputation of having senior citizens, and their PARENTS as their primary passenger demographic. More cynical observers might call it God's waiting room. And I'll admit- these cruises out of Fort Lauderdale just before Christmas attract an older passenger mix regardless of cruise line. There were some passengers similar in age to those we'd met on the Emerald, but there were some really, really elderly ones too. Lots of those. Frankly, it reminded me of senior living facility, and was a bit disconcerting.
But we were soon on the ship, and went immediately to our cabin, our- specially chosen, premium priced, one of the largest non-handicapped inside cabins in the industry- cabin. We had wanted this cabin for two reasons: its location just below the Lido Deck and a short walk from the buffet, the fitness center and the main pool and hot tubs, and its larger size that would comfortably handle all our "stuff". And it's wonderful. We have a larger bathroom (though not as large as we had on the Maasdam); a slightly larger and definitely longer shower than on the Emerald Princess; a sofa (!); and a large coffee table that can be raised to accommodate dining. Yes, it's a perfect cabin.
The ship, on the other hand is dark. Very dark. Dark wood, dark carpet, and, most of all, I feel like I'm on a submarine. There are very limited views of the water from the public rooms. The hallways, even in the public areas, seem dark and narrow. They wind and turn from the front of the ship to the back. For an avowed claustrophobic like myself, and given my unfamiliarity with this ship, this is a bit uncomfortable. But most disturbing is some of the artwork in the elevator lobbies. Predominant are large urns, which, given the passenger demographic, is a little odd. But what has G in stitches is a sarcophagus in the Deck 3 forward elevator lobby that looks just like something in a mausoleum. (Look for yourself at the photo. It's just plain creepy). He removes his hat and pays his respects every time he passes by.
Thankfully, that's not too often. Our cabin location will allow us to avoid most elevators and the lower public areas. We decided before we ever boarded the ship that we were going to have most, if not all, of our meals in the buffet. No formal nights, no sitting at a table with strangers; we're just going to go casual and unscheduled these 10 days. This is, after all, our 10-day vacstion. ;-) And the buffet is where HAL really outshines Princess. Serving the same food as in the dining room, and largely made to order, it's not much like buffet food at all. On warmer nights, we can even have dinner outside on the very large aft deck, watching sailaway from the islands, or in the glass covered midship area by the Lido Pool. Tonight I enjoyed a seafood Louis appetizer, chicken breast, lots of sautéed spinach and balsamic strawberries (unusual but good) for dessert. It may not be a table for two by a window with service by Sutti and Somphong, but we're not going to starve.
Tomorrow: HAL's private island of Half Moon Cay. We've been there twice before and LOVED it. With a much, much nicer beach than Princess Cay, it's possible to walk barefoot along its crescent shaped shoreline for well over an hour round trip.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed for sun!
Photo 1: despite the dry dock, food was still loaded on the Emerald today...just not nearly as much as usual
Photo 2: while we were still on the Emerald, a large crane was loading freight containers on the ship
Photo 3: view of the Emerald (the far ship) from the Noordam
Photo 4: the artwork that has G so freaked out. You have to admit, it's a little strange.
About 3pm this afternoon, G looked and me and said, "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore". And he's right. We're also not on the Emerald Princess anymore. Things are different in Noordam-land. Different-good and different-bad. Based on past cruise experiences, though, I suspect that over the course of these 10-days, the different-good will stay good but the different-bad will get better. That's the way it usually works when we venture into (relatively) new territory. All it takes is an open mind and a bit of patience. We definitely possess the former. The latter? We want it. NOW!
Backing up a bit first, to late yesterday evening...
We packed fairly thoughtfully last night. We started out by packing VERY thoughtfully, but then the Broncos game started, and it was a great one to watch, and the final packing devolved into a familiar pattern of shoving stuff in wherever it would fit. Which, with all the things we had to move, was in a space about half the size really required.
Interesting note: my lost shorts never showed up. Our cabin is now truly empty. We've checked under the beds and behind the nightstand (improbable places for the shorts to be hiding), and I'm more certain than ever that they were never returned from the laundry. I'm still not going to file a claim. They were $10 Target shorts. These things happen. And, besides, I would have to push the point, which I won't. That's another, heretofore unspoken reality of staying on a ship for four months: we don't want to rock the boat (that pun is me at my cleverest), don't want to be labelled complainers, because, I can promise you, some of the most travelled passengers do have that reputation noted on their permanent record. When it comes to minor issues, we simply move on.
Despite that fact that we had no need to hurry off the ship today, and, in fact, weren't scheduled to disembark until the last group at 10:35am, we were awake before the ship even arrived in Port Everglades. There is just no sleeping in on disembarkation day; doors slamming and voices in the hallway assure that.
The longest wait this morning was to get through ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) after disembarking the Emerald. They were seriously understaffed at first, and disembarkation quickly slipped to almost an hour behind schedule. Standing in line in the terminal for over 30 minutes to go through ICE allowed me plenty of time to contemplate (not verbalize) how the politicians who want to shrink the federal government at all costs must not have to wait in line to go through ICE. It allowed G plenty of time to verbalize that, after all the renovation at Terminal 2 this year, they certainly didn't fix the air conditioning. Wait two minutes and repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Perhaps the newly painted bright blue walls were supposed to soothe and cool us. They didn't.
We had some luggage label change outs to do, removing the Emerald disembarkation luggage labels and affixing the Noordam embarkation luggage labels. It was only then that I noticed that I still had an old Island Princess label on my carryon. Thank goodness that bag hadn't been misplaced somewhere between home and the Emerald Princess.
Backing up a bit first, to late yesterday evening...
We packed fairly thoughtfully last night. We started out by packing VERY thoughtfully, but then the Broncos game started, and it was a great one to watch, and the final packing devolved into a familiar pattern of shoving stuff in wherever it would fit. Which, with all the things we had to move, was in a space about half the size really required.
Interesting note: my lost shorts never showed up. Our cabin is now truly empty. We've checked under the beds and behind the nightstand (improbable places for the shorts to be hiding), and I'm more certain than ever that they were never returned from the laundry. I'm still not going to file a claim. They were $10 Target shorts. These things happen. And, besides, I would have to push the point, which I won't. That's another, heretofore unspoken reality of staying on a ship for four months: we don't want to rock the boat (that pun is me at my cleverest), don't want to be labelled complainers, because, I can promise you, some of the most travelled passengers do have that reputation noted on their permanent record. When it comes to minor issues, we simply move on.
Despite that fact that we had no need to hurry off the ship today, and, in fact, weren't scheduled to disembark until the last group at 10:35am, we were awake before the ship even arrived in Port Everglades. There is just no sleeping in on disembarkation day; doors slamming and voices in the hallway assure that.
The longest wait this morning was to get through ICE (Immigration and Customs Enforcement) after disembarking the Emerald. They were seriously understaffed at first, and disembarkation quickly slipped to almost an hour behind schedule. Standing in line in the terminal for over 30 minutes to go through ICE allowed me plenty of time to contemplate (not verbalize) how the politicians who want to shrink the federal government at all costs must not have to wait in line to go through ICE. It allowed G plenty of time to verbalize that, after all the renovation at Terminal 2 this year, they certainly didn't fix the air conditioning. Wait two minutes and repeat. And repeat. And repeat. Perhaps the newly painted bright blue walls were supposed to soothe and cool us. They didn't.
We had some luggage label change outs to do, removing the Emerald disembarkation luggage labels and affixing the Noordam embarkation luggage labels. It was only then that I noticed that I still had an old Island Princess label on my carryon. Thank goodness that bag hadn't been misplaced somewhere between home and the Emerald Princess.
I have to admit...I had been dreading the act of physically moving all of our luggage through ICE, and then schlepping it through the parking garage over to the taxi stand. We had a lot of luggage when we left home; it's now grown to the point where we have four big suitcases; two rolling carryons weighted down with water bottles and cans of Coke (unused from our minibar setups), and yes, possibly some gin and rum we've accumulated along the way; the large beach bag filled with the over the door shoe rack and its contents; my backpack, heavy with my laptop and paperwork; and two 18-packs of Mountain Dew.
Well, in the end, it's done, and no one got hurt in the process (although I'll admit that I didn't confirm that with the taxi driver who heaved the luggage into his cab). The taxi driver also didn't give us much attitude when he discovered this fare was only to Terminal 26, and not to the Fort Lauderdale airport, and for that I am truly thankful. Let's hope we're as lucky on our return.
When we finally arrived at Terminal 26, we were handed an embarkation number and had no wait at all to check in and get our new ship's card. One thing we both particularly liked on Holland America (HAL) is that our security photos were taken right at check in, instead of when we boarded the ship. Although passengers with priority embarkation (as we have on Princess) and those who had arrived before us were already boarding, we had to wait about 20 minutes or so before our boarding group was called. Those 20 minutes gave us our first look at our fellow passengers.
Oh my. Now, HAL has a reputation of having senior citizens, and their PARENTS as their primary passenger demographic. More cynical observers might call it God's waiting room. And I'll admit- these cruises out of Fort Lauderdale just before Christmas attract an older passenger mix regardless of cruise line. There were some passengers similar in age to those we'd met on the Emerald, but there were some really, really elderly ones too. Lots of those. Frankly, it reminded me of senior living facility, and was a bit disconcerting.
But we were soon on the ship, and went immediately to our cabin, our- specially chosen, premium priced, one of the largest non-handicapped inside cabins in the industry- cabin. We had wanted this cabin for two reasons: its location just below the Lido Deck and a short walk from the buffet, the fitness center and the main pool and hot tubs, and its larger size that would comfortably handle all our "stuff". And it's wonderful. We have a larger bathroom (though not as large as we had on the Maasdam); a slightly larger and definitely longer shower than on the Emerald Princess; a sofa (!); and a large coffee table that can be raised to accommodate dining. Yes, it's a perfect cabin.
The ship, on the other hand is dark. Very dark. Dark wood, dark carpet, and, most of all, I feel like I'm on a submarine. There are very limited views of the water from the public rooms. The hallways, even in the public areas, seem dark and narrow. They wind and turn from the front of the ship to the back. For an avowed claustrophobic like myself, and given my unfamiliarity with this ship, this is a bit uncomfortable. But most disturbing is some of the artwork in the elevator lobbies. Predominant are large urns, which, given the passenger demographic, is a little odd. But what has G in stitches is a sarcophagus in the Deck 3 forward elevator lobby that looks just like something in a mausoleum. (Look for yourself at the photo. It's just plain creepy). He removes his hat and pays his respects every time he passes by.
Thankfully, that's not too often. Our cabin location will allow us to avoid most elevators and the lower public areas. We decided before we ever boarded the ship that we were going to have most, if not all, of our meals in the buffet. No formal nights, no sitting at a table with strangers; we're just going to go casual and unscheduled these 10 days. This is, after all, our 10-day vacstion. ;-) And the buffet is where HAL really outshines Princess. Serving the same food as in the dining room, and largely made to order, it's not much like buffet food at all. On warmer nights, we can even have dinner outside on the very large aft deck, watching sailaway from the islands, or in the glass covered midship area by the Lido Pool. Tonight I enjoyed a seafood Louis appetizer, chicken breast, lots of sautéed spinach and balsamic strawberries (unusual but good) for dessert. It may not be a table for two by a window with service by Sutti and Somphong, but we're not going to starve.
Tomorrow: HAL's private island of Half Moon Cay. We've been there twice before and LOVED it. With a much, much nicer beach than Princess Cay, it's possible to walk barefoot along its crescent shaped shoreline for well over an hour round trip.
I'm keeping my fingers crossed for sun!
Photo 1: despite the dry dock, food was still loaded on the Emerald today...just not nearly as much as usual
Photo 2: while we were still on the Emerald, a large crane was loading freight containers on the ship
Photo 3: view of the Emerald (the far ship) from the Noordam
Photo 4: the artwork that has G so freaked out. You have to admit, it's a little strange.
