Home Sweet Home

I'm back! Europe was Hot. Crowded. Expensive. Old. Busy. In other words, a blast. I'm still unwinding, getting over the fatigue of traveling. Haven't had a chance, or the will, to begin digesting all I've seen and done: Rome, Pompeii, Naples, Athens, Istanbul. The good and the bad. There's a story to be told involving figs and diarrhea. I've doled out the souvenirs and somehow it's sad to see the majesty of the Colosseum or the charm of the Almafi coast summed up by trinkets. No matter how much I try to explain with words or pictures, my friends and family won't be able to fully share in the experience of being there. In fact, I'm sure as time passes, my memories will start to lose sharpness, fuzzing around the edges until only impressions remain. Then the trinkets remaining will have to represent and they just don't do the trip justice. Ah well, that's what can expect when one has a mind like Swiss cheese.

I am glad to be back though because despite the awe inspiring columns of the Vatican or the beauty of Postitano, it's not my life. As much as I would like to have a steward clean my room every day, that's not my life either. My life is working 8 to 5, sipping starbucks, shopping at the mall, playing with my dogs, hanging out with friends and driving dangerously on the streets I know. Ho-hum, but comfortable and natural. Traveling is like sloughing off your skin for a while and trying out a different role one. As a tourist, everything is novel. But I think we only get an edited glimpse of others' lives. Italians, Greeks, Spainards, just like Americans, have to pay their bills, mop their floors and get on with their lives. Mundane, with better weather. Europe has such history and great works of art and architecture. I wonder though, if for people who have grown up with them, if such things are shrug worthy. Like the lyrics of Eva Cassidy's song, Penny to My Name:

Strangers say this mountain here is beautiful beyond compare
But it's just a dumb old mountain there; I see it every day

Cruise Day

Our grand journey begins today! I can't believe how the past few weeks just flew by. Ironically, I now think we don't have enough time to do all the things I want to do even though just a while ago I was carping about having to wait too long. We packed and re-packed, but have a niggling doubt that while we are on the plan to Atlanta, I'll have a "oh, crap" realization that something important was forgotten. Like that home alone movie moment when the mom remembers she forgot her kid.

I had elaborate plans to organize a folder with detailed plans and information for each port. I started maybe three pages before school, work and dating sucked the wind from the sail. Sigh, ideals fall by the wayside, but they are nice to have.

In any case, we are on the way and now is not a time for regrets. Plus, it being 3 a.m. in the morning dulls the senses. Bon Voyage.

European Cruise Countdown: 9 days Whoohoo!

Homer Simpson's trademark yell of delight sums up what me and my fellow cruisers must be feeling as the sailaway date approaches. There is just still so much to do though. Angie, being the annoyingly organized person like always, is already 80% packed. Me? I haven't even decided which luggage to use...I don't even know where they are. Somewhere in the Siberia of my house garage.

Euorpean Cruise Countdown: 13 days Chill

I cannot believe that we’re leaving in less than two weeks. The Beijing Olympics was a great diversion (watched the opening ceremony three times: American, British and Hong Kong version) and time just flew by. I admit to a bit of unreality these past few weeks. No matter how much I researched and planned, the cruise seemed like no more closer or real. Just a beautiful concept spun from puppies’ breath and butterfly kisses, which made me really nervous.

My attitude toward the trip has fluctuated wildly from hyperactive excitement to anxiety to now what I hope is calm anticipation. In the first few days, we booked everything so I was super excited and rushed to do this, do that. And then came the waiting game. The more time I had, the more my anxiety mushroomed with doubts. What if we missed our connection in Paris, missing our transfer, ohmigod missing the sailaway? What if we lost our luggage? We should have booked more time before and after, we should have picked another cruise, another flight, another time of year etc. I couldn’t stop second guessing our plans and imagining the worst scenarios. Angie berated me yesterday for being so nervous and said it was uncharacteristic of the girl she knew.

When I was 22, I went to Tokyo, Japan all by myself. I didn’t speak one word of Japanese, I didn’t know anybody there, I didn’t plan and I didn’t think or worry. I just bought a ticket and flew. Looking back, that was pretty dumb. Yet, I have to admire my younger self. No pre-planning had its pitfalls. I ended up stuck at the Narita airport because my flight was delayed and I missed my transfer. I missed a lot of attractions like Akihabara and Mt. Fuji. But, I rode the trains everyday. I bought the sweetest strawberries at a neighborhood grocery, walked the small roads of a Tokyo suburb in a light snow, and spent Christmas Eve wandering Roppongi Hills with some new friends I still share my life with today. I got lost, I lost my camera, spent LOTS of money, and still everything was alright.

So, deep breath, I will have to find that me of a few years ago. I’m not going to pack every top in my closet in case the weather turns. I’m not going to speed dial Princess. I am not going constantly recheck Air France, Delta and KLM websites. I am not going to write my will.

I will chill…..or try to.

European Cruise Countdown: 20 Days-Euro Blues

So, I went to Bank of America to inquire about the exchange rate. One word: awful. At 1.62, $2,000 would only be about 1,200 euros. Hot damn! I knew the dollar was weak, but not this weak. No wonder floods of European tourists are coming to America for shopping. (Oh, and those flights we booked weeks ago are now $200 cheaper...grumble, grumble).

Friends and family have questioned why we're going to Europe now. It certainly would have made more economic sense to wait for the financial waters to calm. Europe will always be there, they say.

However true those statements are, one has to follow one's heart and mine told me to go. Go now. My cousin died very suddenly last week. One day she was fine. The next thing I heard, she'd been in a car accident and gone. You can't bank on the future and always having a next time. So, yeah, the exchange rate hurts. But, if I let that little thing stop me from following my heart, it would hurt even more.

European Cruise Countdown: 22 Days Cabin Fever

We finally got a room: R328. A humble home indeed in the bowels of the ship, but at least near the middle so we won’t (hopefully) feel the waves. Near the elevators and coin operated laundry too. For the longest time after we booked (maybe a week and a half but time flows differently for a paranoid pre-cruiser), we didn’t have a room. I was getting nervous, thinking we’d be relegated to the servants deck. Bu, hey, as long as there is lots of dancing and hot guys ala Titanic, without the ship sinking, of course, it’s all good.

European Cruise Countdown: 26 Days Passport Smiles

It came! It came! My passport came via priority mail yesterday. I’m good to board planes and enjoy my prepaid cruise.

Why, you may ask, did I play chicken with the U.S Department of State with my cruise on the line? One word: Chewy. (Points to picture of the furry offender)

Don’t be fooled by his teddy bear looks, he’s a homewrecker. Egads, I even named him Chewy. Talk about a self-fulfilling prophecy. What happened was sometime in 2006-07, a bad, bad, bad, bad puppy somehow got to my passport and, well, did as he was named. I thought the damage to the spine and a tiny corner of the laminate wasn’t that bad. I smacked his bum, and forgot about it.

Until….after I had purchased nonrefundable air and cruise. My bad. I showed my best friend, the all-knowing Angie, before we booked and she thought it was okay. She’s the level-headed, detail-orientated one. I’m not. The picture and none of the text, especially the barcode, was damaged, she reasoned so logically.

It took a while for the thought of “Maaaaybe I should just double check” floated to the forefront, even as we were arranging transfers, shore excursions, private tours, shopping for the cruise. Like I said, not detail orientated. At the back of my mind was this horrible dream I had years ago. You know the oft parodied dream of going to school naked? Never had that dream. Instead, I dreamed that while in the airport security line for a transatlantic flight leaving in 30 minutes, I’d reach into my pocket for my tickets or passport and realize with pale-faced horror that I didn’t have them. My subconscious was screaming at me, I’m sure, but it took me a week and a half to heed the warning. Did I mention that in addition to not being detail orientated, procrastination is also part of my repertoire? Mademoiselle is quite talented.

Anyway, when I finally called the U.S. Department of State, a nice Jeremy/Jason/James/Juan person broke the bad news that even if the tiniest sliver of the laminate is compromised, I had to get a new passport because some person could tamper with the photo and call into question the authenticity of the travel document. That was definitely a big oh, crap moment.

When I informed Angie that I needed a new passport just four weeks before our cruise, I believe she had a fit. Naturally, I emailed her instead of owing up in person so I technically didn’t see her reaction. I imagine a fretful mother chicken going cluck, cluck, cluck, cluck, KA-CLUCK and passing an egg out of stress.

Even though Jeremy/Jason/James/Juan said the expedited process which cost an additional $60 on top of the normal $100 fee took two weeks, I had my doubts due to lots of media attention last year focusing on delayed processing times due to changed travel restrictions.

Fortunately, he was right, I was wrong. I put in my application on July 23, 2008 and got my new passport on July 31, 2008—an eight day turnaround. Yay, our tax dollar and pay-for-play at work! My passport picture is still horrendous. (I was wearing a white tailored jacket and had to take it off to show my shoulders, so my passport photo will show me and my bra straps for the next ten years.)

But, it’s all good. I’m a cat in the cream and Angie ain’t gonna pass no more eggs.