Cruising on the Allure of the Seas, a nice little boat...

Jumping off

Allure of the Seas at Falmouth, Jamaica

Summer vacation 2014 started from Phoenix – a cruise on Royal Caribbean’s big ship Allure of the Seas to Haiti, Jamaica and Mexico.  Just for comparison, Titanic is still regarded as a large ship.  Allure is larger than was Titanic by almost a factor of five times. (46,000 gross tons vs 225,000 tons for Allure). Allure is presently the largest cruise ship in the world, by about ½ inch length over her sister, Oasis of the Seas. There's not much out there that's bigger -- maybe a super tanker.

The week was spent with my friends, the Melians – Jim, Gloria, David, Denise, Sarah, and four additional friends.  I traveled to the embarkation point separately from the rest – I got a non-stop flight KPHX to KFLL while the others flew through Chicago.  I arrived in Fort Lauderdale around the same hour they did, but we didn’t meet until we were all shipboard.

Locking keys in van

I had to wait quite some time at the airport for the hotel van to collect me – the Best Western Oakland Park was several miles away from the airport (and the cruise terminal at Port Everglades), but they had a free airport shuttle while some other more expensive places do not.  I also thought it was a nice clean place, friendly staff, even if the hotel was an older one. 

I had a nice long chat with the driver, Ms Dora, who was from Central America – Costa Rica I think, or Honduras.  We talked about cruising and traveling, pets and humidity.  On arrival at the hotel, I accidentally locked the doors while getting out (I was sitting in the front passenger seat and was the only passenger).  It took a while to get an extra set of keys – meanwhile the van was sitting there running in the Florida heat.  Finally, with baggage retrieved from the unlocked van and profuse apologies offered to the hotel managers and driver...

I got my room and walked next door to the Fort Lauderdale Ale House for supper.  I had a substantial steak dinner with shrimp scampi, plenty of sides and an iced tea, and an apple dessert for less than $25.  My server was Hope – I told her my name was Despair… and we got along fine after that.  Hope and despair… great food, nice “sports grill” surroundings, good service, all in all a hit and right next door to the hotel.

I slept in a bit on Sunday morning -- and walked to a nearby market for things for breakfast.  I got an Oscar Meyer Lunchables tray (ham, cheese and crackers...), a banana, a bottle of juice.  I sat around, relaxed and drank a diet Coke -- and reported to the hotel lobby for my ride to the ship at about 11:45 AM.  A young Florida native delivered me quickly and in friendly fashion to the dock.

The long boarding process

The ride to the Port Everglades Cruise Ship Terminal took about 10 or 15 minutes.  Pulling up on the curb in front of the terminal, which looked like a large warehouse, the luggage was already starting to pile up.  The facility opened for business at 12:30, I was early by 15 minutes and already things were piled up.  I left my luggage in a likely spot in the pile, and started walking toward the entrance. Well, I didn’t really know where the entrance was – so I just followed the crowds of people.  The first step was lining up for security, which went fairly quickly.  Then we were directed to a line to meet with the RCCL boarding agent (the equivalent of an airline customer service clerk), where we got our Sea Pass (combined id card and credit card while on board the ship - you use it for everything). 

Then we were directed toward the ship.  Every time I have ever been on cruises before, all with RCCL, this was when you got on the ship.  You walked through the terminal to a gangway, and you walked on.  But not at Port Everglades, not for the Oasis of the Seas, or the Allure of the Seas.  Along the way, we were directed to a large seating area, and we couldn’t even sit where we wanted.  We were lined up in groups and told where to sit – even in what seat.  And we waited.  And waited.  And waited. I got the sense that we had to wait because others who paid more than we did had “priority” boarding rights, even if we had to sit there for an hour or two.  Can you tell I didn’t care much for this obvious elitism? 

I’m not sure how long we had to wait, but it must have been at least an hour and a half, probably longer.  Then, finally, we were herded like cattle in groups onto the ship.  You would think that with a ship that had about 6500 passengers, there would be crowds everywhere you turned, but that wasn’t the case.  I only encountered uncomfortable crowding in two instances for the entire 7 days – this interminable wait and crowding at the embarkation, and then getting off the ship at Cozumel, where they funneled everyone through a gauntlet of peddlers – which is exactly why I dislike going to Mexico on cruise ships.*  In that case (at Cozumel), I just turned around and got back on the ship.  I do not tolerate crowds well.  It was like the experience in a border town, only concentrated into a small space.  The HELL with that.



The Customs building, and the shopping plaza
at the Port of Falmouth

*[A note on Mexico].  There are many, many things I love about Mexico and its people.  The tawdriness of border crossings, or in this case terminal areas and their associated "hawkers" are not among them.   So my comments here do not reflect my general feelings about 99.9% of the Mexican nation and culture.  A good example of a classier way to provide a "border shopping experience" was evident at Falmouth, where the shops were arranged around a plaza-like area and the proprietors met you inside their shops, without trying to drag you in off the street. If you want this more relaxed experience in Mexico, you have to get away from the tourist "district" choke points and find the places where the "locals" shop.  It's not hard to do.

Oh, and as long as I'm ranting about crowding, there was one other place where you encountered the crowds on the ship (and it's the same on all cruise ships in my experience).  It's the elevators.  There is a generally a diminishment of human courtesy and respect in our culture, and that of others around the world, and one place that dearth of manners and courtesy shows up most glaringly in my opinion is at the elevator.  When the elevator doors open, you let those inside exit FIRST, before you push your way in.  And if the thing is full of people, you let it go and wait for the next one.  I prefer to let a crowded elevator go on without me -- and then as soon as it moves away (up or down), push the call button again - doing so often brings another empty elevator immediately (since all the impatient ones crowded into the first one and are gone).  This strategy works a good part of the time.



The view from balcony 12210

Once on, I went straight to my state room – number 210 on Deck 12.  This was very high on the ship, an outside-facing stateroom on the port-side, about centrally located (between the elevator banks).  This was not optimum – either direction we had a little bit of a hike to the elevators and the public areas – this is a huge ship. That said, Jim and I loved having the balcony facing the sea.  While we didn’t spend a lot of time out there, it was very nice and there wasn’t an hour that went by that we didn’t stick our head out if we happened to be in the room.  And the walk, while tedious at times, didn’t hurt us.  A word about "staterooms."  I think they are mis-named...  they should be called county rooms, or village rooms, not STATE rooms (or maybe closets), because they are very, very small.  This doesn't really bother me, I don't mind small rooms as a small space is all I really need.  I just want things named correctly, that's all.

Sailing Away

Jim was already there to greet me, and my first thought was to get lunch at the buffet, one of only a few venues open prior to sailing.  Jim had already been there – but he accompanied me there again for lunch, and he had another burger right along with me.  We looked around, and by then, it was time for sailing.  We found some of the rest of our group up on the very top – Deck 16 – and we all watched as the ship came to life, and the water around it started to be churned up by the azipods and the thrusters – and this giant ship inched away from the dock. We moved slowly down the channel, then made a tight turn toward the sea, past harbor-side homes and high rise

Heading out to sea at Port Everglades, June 15, 2014

condos – smaller boats passing us coming in after a day on the ocean, residents sitting on their lawns and waving to us as we left, and slowly past the beach and the jetty and out to sea.  Just like that.  I think this all occurred over a span of less than ten minutes. David said that as these ships pass the beach near the jetty, the massive displacement of water caused by their passing sucks all the water off the beach - so I suspect the locals probably stay out of the water at sailing times. We were accompanied to the ocean by a coast guard patrol vessel with a machine gun on the foredeck, manned by a serious-looking young sailor. A Sheriff boat was also idling nearby, and we were accompanied by a pilot boat. Once the pilot climbed off the ship and the pilot boat turned back toward Port Everglades – the Allure of the Seas headed out into the Atlantic for a seven-day cruise to Labadee, Haiti, Falmouth, Jamaica, and Cozumel.  We were ready.  Not just for the cruise, but for DINNER.

A surprise addition, dinner number one in the dining room and sunset over Miami!

Soon, it was time for our first dinner in the dining room.  One of the first things Jim told me when I got to our room was that “Kathleen is here!”  Kathleen is Jim’s sister and one of my favorite people – and I had asked several times if she would be joining us for the cruise and the answer was always no.  Kathleen and her family live in another state so I don't get to see her that often. But as a great surprise, she had decided to come along at the last minute and only David knew that she was coming until we got there.  They didn't even tell her mother, Gloria.  Our seating time for dinner was 6 pm each night, and most of our group was there each evening with only a few exceptions.



Jim waits for his steak! Gloria and Kathleen and Earl's wife...

I found the food to be uniformly good, not stellar, but only once or twice did I not see something I wanted to try.  I fell back on the always available strip-steak only once – RCCL just doesn’t excel at steaks.  They usually are cooked to your specification, but the cut is not of particularly good quality – I don’t believe in four cruises I’ve ever been served one that could be called “tender.”  This first dinner I ordered fish (cod) along with an appetizer or two and dessert.  I found more appetizers that I wanted to try than I could manage – even more so than entrees.  Once or twice, I intended to eat ONLY those, and skip the rather unattractive (to me) “specialty” entrees that were offered that day. 



A dinner at the Windjammer

As the days went by, I began planning my evening meals early in the day (and days ahead, even) – each day’s menu was posted on the ship’s TV programming if you knew where to look.  Once or twice, seeing nothing that excited me on the menu for the evening at Adagio (the main dining room), I made plans those evenings to eat at the buffet (the Windjammer). Of course, in doing so I missed out on the social event of having the meals with everyone else, so I tried to avoid doing that when I could (I think I only did that twice, and once it was because I had to leave the group table early to print my return trip boarding pass).  Note to self: always be sure to do the airline’s “Early Bird Check In” – which is well-worth the slight expense when 400 miles out at sea.  It costs more to access the internet from a cruise ship than it would have to just arrange that with the airline in advance. 

Another meal I had really looked forward to was the one occasion when lobster was available.  Unfortunately, the lobster was almost tasteless.  This was most unfortunate because lobster is one of my favorite things.  But it tasted more like tofu than lobster; tasteless, just tasteless.  They offered a second tail and I turned it down.  I wasn't the only one either; they couldn't even give it away.

Hot Dogs on the Boardwalk

As usual, our table service (a waiter and an assistant) was excellent and attentive.  Seeing them each evening at dinner always makes a cruise a memorable experience.  There are many other food choices or venues aboard the Oasis class ships -- and among my favorites were the hot dog stand on the Boardwalk and the Park Café in Central Park.  I did not try them all though -- and of the pay-to-eat venues the only one I tried was the ice cream shop.  You already pay a premium price for a cruise, and I am less than enthusiastic about adding expense to it when there is decent food available at no additional cost. What irked me is that it appears clear that the cruise lines are reducing the quality of the included fare in an attempt to push people toward the additional cost offerings.

At this first meal, I sat nearest Sarah and Denise on one side, and Jim and Gloria on the other -- and we tended to sit in the same positions each evening with small deviations once or twice over the seven days.  David, Kathleen, Dane and Kim, and one other couple, Earl and Diana, sat at the other half of our table.  As a result, I never really talked to Earl and his wife much – I saw Dane and Kim at other times, but I think Earl and Diana must have done other things most of the time (or perhaps I did.)

After dinner, the first evening, I went up on the top decks to watch the scenery – we were cruising south past Miami and later, directly down toward Cuba, where we sailed along its north coast, along the Old Bahama Channel, ESE toward Haiti.  Day 2 was spent transiting to Haiti, and our first stop on Day 3 was Labadee, an RCCL private oasis on the island’s northern coast.

Miami Sunset

Day 2 sunrise off Cuba

The roiled wake in Caribbean Blue

I got some spectacular views of Miami’s skyline with the sun going down behind it, silhouetting the buildings in a pink and orange glow against the sky – and the sunrise the next morning was also gorgeous.  Jim and I hit the rack early most nights – and on this first night I lay there and watched the moon, the clouds, the moonlight shining on the sea, and lights on the small islands we passed, until I fell asleep.  For the entire cruise (the seven days), the skies were mostly cloudy – and at times, distant thunderstorms tracked the ocean expanses around us.  However, we never saw more than calm seas.



I learned on this cruise what the phrase Caribbean Blue means.  The waters were a deep blue, a cross between royal blue and cobalt.  Wherever the ships propulsion churned it up and mixed it with air, it turned a luminous turquoise blue.  It was altogether gorgeous.

For me, cruises are not about show-time entertainment, about shore excursions or sports and pools, and not even so much about the food (although I certainly enjoy that).  For me, the cruise is about the ship, and the sea.

Labadee

Day 2 was spent entirely at sea, cruising toward Labadee, Haiti.  We could see the Cuban coast, but it was distant and any detail wasn’t visible.  I thought several times of Hemingway’s The Old Man and the Sea as we sailed these waters.  I should have brought a copy to read.  I spent the day exploring the ship and all its “neighborhoods.”  The main areas are the Royal Promenade on Deck 5, the Boardwalk aft of that on Deck 6, and Central Park on Deck 8 (I think).  The other "main” area is the pool and sports decks on top the ship on Decks 15 and 16.  The best sea views are from Deck 16, from the Deck 5 “boat deck” jogging track, and from the Sun Deck on Deck 14 (which overlooks the bow of the ship).

Central Park

Central Park and the Boardwalk are both open to the sky, although the Boardwalk is sheltered somewhat and backed by the Aqua Theater at the stern.  An incurious person could spend an entire cruise on this ship and never see the ocean.  But that’s not me. 

On the morning of Day 3, early, we pulled into Labadee.  I watched from the Windjammer Buffet and from our cabin's balcony as the ship sidled up to the pier – although I was facing the open water so didn’t see the docking itself.  I had no plan to leave the ship on this port call; a visit to Labadee is for swimming, beaching, zip lining, parasailing, and similar things.  Probably 5,500 of the 6,500 souls on board Allure of the Seas got off the ship and paid lots of money for shore excursions there.  But every single one of those activities except beaching and parasailing were available to me and the remaining 1,000 people onboard… so I had no desire to get off.  Stormy weather ruined some of the activities that were scheduled ashore – the zip line for one, I was told, which was too risky to operate in the midst of an electrical storm and gusty winds.

Allure of the Seas at Labadee, Haiti

I had a great vantage point onboard to watch most of the water-sports activities occurring around us, which is all I would have done ashore anyway. Had we been in a part of Haiti where I could have met the locals, I might have ventured out.  But Labadee is a private RCCL reserve.  There were probably more Haitians on the ship than off of it.  I’m serious – on RCCL’s private facilities on Labadee, the locals are fenced out unless they work inside. 

So I relaxed, had the pool deck and whirlpools mostly to myself, wandered around and it was probably one of the best days of the whole week.  I ventured ashore in the mid-afternoon (just to the end of the pier) so I could get a couple of good shots of the ship, but after doing so, I hustled right back onboard. Do I regret my lack of curiosity about Labadee?  Not one bit.  We sailed at 5:00 PM if I remember correctly.  Jim and I sat in a couple of deck chairs at the stern of the ship and watched the turquoise blue roiled wake of the ship and Haiti recede into the distance. This was where we’d have smoked ten-dollar cigars, if we were gentlemen smokers!  But we’re not, so we just went to supper instead.

Jamaica mon! 

We arrived in Falmouth, Jamaica at about 10:00 AM on Wednesday, June 18^th.  The ships dock right next to the Customs House, which opens onto a decent-sized sun-drenched plaza on its “town” side.  My original plan for Jamaica was to visit Rose Hall plantation, where legend has it that an 18th Century matron (Annie Palmer) murdered three husbands and numerous slave lovers as she tired of each one.  Johnny Cash sang a song about it.  I couldn’t find any tour information for Rose Hall prior to the cruise – so I intended to check it out once there.  And then I never got it done.  Instead, I got off and wandered around close to the ship in the Customs house plaza, bought some gifts for family and friends, and attempted to walk along the water-side to a point at the end of the little corner of Jamaica’s north coast where we were parked.  Alas, there was a locked wrought-iron gate blocking that particular endeavor.  Jamaica interests me and I will have to go back there someday if I can swing it (I have a long wish list when it comes to traveling though, so who knows). 

Leaving Falmouth

I watched the ship depart the dock from the boat-deck’s aft rail – it was a straight shot out into the Caribbean from the pier – and I filmed the departure shot by shot as we moved away.  As we did, it was time to dress and meet the others for dinner.  The next day was spent cruising across the sea past Georgetown and Grand Cayman Island toward Cozumel.

Musicians

Playin the music, mon!

I stopped alongside the ship (on the quay) at Falmouth to listen to some musicians playing Caribbean music – I’m not sure but I think you would call it reggae music.  They were very good and had simply brought a folding chair and a box to sit on, sat down with their instrument, a hat for tips and played some pretty great music.  I stopped to listen and asked to take a picture.  They said I could for a “good tip.”  I started to toss all my change in their pot – but they said no, American coins weren’t useful for Jamaica – bills were spendable but coins were not.  It was very indelicate… I didn’t have change and I wasn’t about to give ‘em a twenty.  But they said they could make change and I gave them a fiver instead.  I only took one photo, because after all, I am a frugal Scotsman by blood.  The music was probably worth the twenty.

Favorite things...

1.     Friendly staff.  The RCCL staff that you encounter about the ship is usually always friendly and helpful, and the lower their station the more friendly they are.  This is a simple thing but it colors your attitude all day long.

2.     The boat deck.  I can’t imagine being on a cruise ship without an open air boat deck.  This deck is nearer the waterline and is more closely involved with the passing sea, than are the higher-up “sports” decks; also the “Sun Deck,” which is forward on Deck 14. It looks out over the ship’s prow and had bridge wings where you stand OVER the water.

3.     Central Park and the Park Café.  The Park Café had a “signature” roast beef sandwich that was one of the best entrées I had all week. And Central Park is like a garden, and open to the sky of course.  I sat on a bar stool there one evening and listened to a wonderful string concert (mostly baroque) and chatted with Kathleen.

4.     The hot dog stand. With deli-style wieners in different varieties, it was a hit.  May RCCL never abandon the concept.

5.     Sunrise/sunset at sea.  Well, who doesn’t like those.

6.     Early-bird disembarkation. If you can carry your own bags, they allowed you to walk off the ship before everyone else.  There was still a reasonably long line at Customs, but I was on my way in probably one half hour or maybe 45 minutes.  Yay!
 

Not so favorite things...

1.     Settling the Bill. RCCL almost never gets your onboard charges correct, and it’s nearly impossible to get any adjustments.  Once they’ve got your money (and they get it up front thanks to that sea-pass thing), they’ve GOT it and you’re not likely to get any of it back.  They must be related to the IRS.

2.     Elevator crowding.  And the rude people associated with it. I hate that.

3.     Tough steaks. My advice: Eat something else if at all possible.

4.     Unsupervised Cookie Crunchers. Despite RCCL curfews, kids pounding the passageways late at night - loud voices and running feet. Bah!

5.     Hamburgers and hot dogs, served on COLD buns.  What the hell is so hard about warming or toasting a bun?  (The buns at the hot dog stand were the only exception).

6.     Whirlpool water. Had such a high ratio of chemical to water, I felt like I had chemical burns when I got out.  Even after a shower I still smelled like chlorine all evening. Yuck. (Of course, the REASON for that is also pretty disgusting).

Cozumel

Gloria Melian

We arrived at Cozumel early on Friday morning.  After we docked, Navigator of the Seas and a Carnival cruise ship also paid port calls.  This made for extreme crowding for those getting off the ships for shore excursions or shopping.  Gloria wanted to get off to do a little shopping and we decided to do that together.  But we didn’t get far – she got a couple of gifts fairly close to the pier – but we didn’t even get past the taxi stands after that.  As soon as we could wend our way back through the crowds, we got back on the ship.  Jim got off the ship with Kathleen and some of the others for a day of snorkeling and running around in the taxis – David retained a taxi and driver to haul them all over wherever they wanted to go.  Gloria and I had lunch together – and for the most part, I had another easy day.  Jim and I watched the Navigator prepare to sail at the end of the afternoon, and the transfer of the local pilot to the pilot boat as they did so.  Then we sailed, and the Carnival ship left perhaps 30-45 mins later.  After dinner, I watched the lights of the Yucatan peninsula and Cancun slide by, and we headed out into the Florida Straits for our last day at sea.  

 Sailing the Straits of Florida  

The last day was an alternately sunny and cloudy day, with thunderstorms dancing around on all points of the compass, but never where we were at the time.  The straits are a busy sea lane and we passed other shipping frequently throughout the day – mostly container ships going west, maybe toward Mexico or Houston. I strained to see Cuba – but it was just a distant ridgeline.  We passed by Havana, and the Captain mentioned that we wouldn’t be able to see the city – but just the mountains behind it.  I believe I did see those.  I paid one last visit to the whirlpools – soaked for a few moments with one or two other people.  Then I went back to my room and showered and scrubbed vigorously to remove the fresh, chemical smell I had obtained from it.

The view from the Viking Crown

In the afternoon it was mostly sunny, so the pool and sports decks were crowded.  In the afternoon, I found the Viking Crown lounge virtually empty and sat in the huge windows watching the top decks below me – kids playing, people sunning.  I couldn’t believe that on a ship carrying 6,500 people I was relaxing in a signature venue in which there was only one other person. I got myself a fruity rum drink – a Captain’s Bahama Mama.  It was tall and reddish-pink, very tasty, and it set me back $8.50.  I was supposed to be able to keep the glass, but I left it unattended in our cabin and I think the attendant spirited it away.  Perhaps on the day I bought it, it wasn’t in a take-home glass.  The “special” had actually been advertised two days before.  I don’t know what was in it – but I think along with Captain Morgan it was at least two additional shots of different things – and I was definitively “moved” by it.  And as that little buzz wore off, I took a nice nap.  Yes, I am definitely a "lightweight."

I played a game of trivia in the Schooner Bar - most of the contestants were teams of 4 or 5 people -- and I came within two answers of beating them all, all on my own as a team of one.  Then again, almost only counts in horseshoes. I got twelve out of twenty correct, the winners had thirteen, so fourteen would have done the trick.

A Caribbean Sunset

After dinner, I spent some time on the stern, and on the Sun Deck (forward) getting some great sunset photos.  I watched the lights of small communities on the Florida Keys off in the distance.  I believe I saw Key West, but am not positive it was – it could have been another of the larger communities in that chain - maybe Marathon.  As we sailed along that evening, the ship slowed down to a crawl to time its arrival back at Port Everglades.  I went to sleep as early as I could, and woke up when Jim got restless at about 0400 to find that we were standing and drifting off Miami. We could see the lights for quite some time before the crew finally cranked up the engines and we cruised the remainder of the way into port.

Gettin' off de Boat...

The ship arrived back in Fort Lauderdale by 0545 or 0600 - I had already showered and gotten my last little bit of "kit" packed up.  I didn't bother with breakfast. 

One last thing I saw while on the ship; the dawn at Port Everglades was very pretty and peaceful, and I was standing out on the balcony watching and taking a photo or two (see photo)...  Down below, there were a couple of little ducks swimming around and diving for fish.  As I watched, they both turned tail-up and dove.  Then a split second later, a small shark that had been lurking invisibly nearby turned tails-up right behind them.  Those ducks. Never. Came. Up.  In the next few seconds I saw a total of three of the little sharks right there -- so I figure the feathered critters hadn't stood much of a chance.  One can only hope the sharks choked a little bit on those feathers.

Anyway, my plan for the day involved getting back to the airport and picking up a rental car for the day, as my flight didn't leave until almost 7 PM.  The very first thing I thought I'd do with that rental car was find myself a decent breakfast.  Yes, that's what I said.  It occurs to me that the very best breakfast I had all week was that final morning at a Fort Lauderdale Denny's. 

Anyway, at about 6:25 AM, dragging my roller behind me and a duffel over a shoulder, I headed down that long corridor to the elevator and the Deck 5 gangway for the last time.  The first stop once off was TSA and Customs -- the line was about thirty minutes long, max.  It probably wasn't that -- it just seems longer when you're standing in it.  Then outside to the transfer bus and back to the airport.  I picked up

The end of a cruise is an aluminum tube!

the car from Dollar and hit the road north to Hillsboro Beach.  That was about 15 miles each way – and the return drive was along the beach the whole way. 

I had tried to change to an earlier flight - there were reasons to get home earlier if I could.  But anything I could change to got to Phoenix later than the flight I was on - and changing would cost me about $300 extra for the last-minute fare.  So I fooled around near the beach and the harbor most of the morning - then since I couldn't think of anything else to do, I returned to the airport and waited for the evening flight with the rest of the crew. While waiting for the flight, we got to watch some thunderstorm cells pass by the airport, delaying things for a time, and we watched the Allure of the Seas sail off on her next cruise, since the cruise terminal is not too far from the airport.  My friends and I arrived back home in Phoenix after a reasonably quiet nonstop on-time flight. 

If I should decide to cruise again - it would be (1) transatlantic! or (2) New England/Ste Lawrence Seaway, or (3) Hawaii.  I would also do an Alaska cruise again if I ever got the chance, especially if Sitka was on the itinerary.  While the Caribbean was beautiful -- and I've nowhere close to seen it all -- it was warm, and I was less than thrilled with those ports.  Still, it was a good time and I enjoyed the company of my friends.

Uncle Bob - July 9, 2014
 

England and Ireland 2013

B757 to England!

Off to England again!  I set out from Phoenix on October 11th for a visit with Chris and Minette in Birmingham, England, and a side trip to Ireland.  It all began with flight delays and stress…

I used the city bus to get to the airport and left in plenty of time – but on arrival at the gate discovered my flight was about 1.5 hours delayed.  I had a tight connection in Newark, and immediately began worrying about missing it.  I weighed the possibilities of simply re-booking for the next day – but opted in the end to try for the original flights.  There was at least a chance.   Newark flights had been running late all week – and there was no guarantee Saturday would be any better.  If things went south, I could always stay in Newark and get out on the next available flight.  My flight was originally planned for about 1050 departure – we finally got into the air about 1300.  The pilot announced that he would fly “this thing like we stole it” and endeavor to make up some of the lost time (but you know an A320 is not the fastest airliner ever built...)

But things started looking better…  I kept an eye on our groundspeed along the way – it was close to 700 mph at times.  The Jet Stream is a wonderful thing.  We overflew Chicago (and I fulfilled a wish of seeing the Chicago skyline and the shores of Lake Michigan from the air in clear skies) – before that I saw what I thought was the Platte River valley in Nebraska at some point along its course – but it turns out that was probably something similar in Kansas, because according to FlightAware.com we didn't cross the Platte in western Nebraska at all. 

I also saw parts of Detroit, as we flew across that corner of Michigan and out across Lake Erie.  The sunset was beautiful above the clouds, with a soft pink and golden glow.  We had made up a lot of time because of the high groundspeeds – but we gave up most of that trying to get into Newark.  They turned us back and forth and all around to fit us into the NYC area traffic – and by the time we landed it was already past departure time for my next flight. 

As soon as I could get free of the aircraft in the crowds of others trying to do the same thing – I raced down the long hallways of the terminal building to get to the departure gate for Flight 81… I really didn’t have a lot of hope for success but already in the back of my mind I was making peace with the complications – I was just planning to “roll with the flow.”  As I reached the gate, after running through the airport, the gate agent flagged me down and checked my passport.  Onboard, I stowed my bag, sat down and secured my seat belt and the plane took off at that very moment!  I’m only exaggerating a little bit…  I was the last person on and it became apparent very quickly that they had held the plane for me.  They said as much, although not directly to me; but I am a big-time eavesdropper.

Setting the stage for the next paragraph: Many American airlines, the legacy carriers particularly, get a bad rap from almost everyone. I am an experienced traveler and of course (if you know me) an experienced aviator.  I have used the American airspace system extensively, both as a pilot and a passenger, and it is the best in the world despite all its quirks and idiosyncrasies.  I was always prepared to bash these airlines like all the other “haters.”  But I wonder why we hate them so much and I conclude that much of the venom is unwarranted. Much of what we find wrong with the airline travel experience is a result of federal deregulation and their want for survival in a complicated operating environment. In other words, our biggest complaints are mostly not their fault.

I don’t want to see them fail – especially the legacy carriers (United, American, Delta); so many of them are already gone.  The point of all of this is that travel is much more common in nature – less of a “premier” experience now than it was years ago – and in essence that means air travel is not going to consist of a “first-class” experience as it once was when it was a more exclusive experience (unless you wish to pay through the nose to get coddled).  Not today, and not ever again.  We might as well get used to that and enjoy the nature of things as they are NOW.  Think about it – travel, even world-wide travel – is more universal, and easy, than it has EVER been.  We can be on the other side of the world safely in a matter of hours and any American can afford to do it if that is their choice.  That is amazing and something to be extremely thankful for and happy about. Example:  In 2003, I attended chapel at St Paul's in London and had soup for supper at my own table on the same day.

So all of that said, I was prepared not to like the United Airlines experience too much.  I am and remain a Southwest Airlines fan. But you cannot fly Southwest to England… I got the best deal on Star Alliance airlines for this trip – United, Lufthansa, and US Air.  United has one of the worst reputations of all of them – perhaps only Delta or American get more hatred.  But do you know that United was one of our first airlines?  I have to say that United did a bang-up job on these flights for me.  The customer service was good – even the food (I purchased) was good.  Airline food!  Good!  All in the same sentence!  

They actually held the plane in Newark for me – I hadn’t communicated with them about it – I simply ran for it because I knew there wasn’t much time.  And they held that plane for me (and perhaps others as well).  There was so little time between the door of one aircraft and the next, that I was absolutely certain my checked bag would NOT make the continuing flight.  But you know what?  It did.  It was waiting for me at baggage claim in Manchester along with all the others (and I was amazed).  I don’t know how they did it.  So I, for one, wish United the best of luck in their very uncertain future.  One mistake in strategic planning, one misstep and an airline can be out of business (and a part of our nation’s history dies along with them).  So no more airline bashing for me, not even for US Air.  You know how I hate US Air… Biting my tongue (or blunting my pen?) will be very difficult for me.

I don’t sleep on airplanes much.  I might have drifted off a little on the trans-Atlantic flight, but not much unfortunately.  I had a very comfortable seat on this Boeing jet (maybe even the one on the photo), paid extra for it, at the very front of the economy cabin – I had unlimited legroom and easy in and out access for the heads.  I woke up in the early light above the clouds and Ireland – saw one city down through the clouds; could have been Limerick but there is no way to know for sure.  Leaving New York I saw the Statue of Liberty all lit up below me, a ship that might have been the QM2 docked at an East River pier, and the Empire State Building as we turned and flew across the city (while still below the clouds). These things I will never forget.

Major fail for English border security; they allow known American revolutionary into country! 

Nimrod and its distinctive tail

We popped out of the clouds near Manchester a little before 0700 on Saturday morning. The overcast was low and solid, but the English countryside was as beautiful as ever; green everywhere.  When landing, I saw an RAF Nimrod sitting on a distant part of the field (at least I think that’s what it was).  Just off the plane, I made a quick pit-stop then headed to the checkpoint.  They asked a few pointed questions and challenged me on my vague answers – then let me roll on in. I then got my bag from baggage claim, went through customs with all of Minette’s booty, and started looking for the bus station. 

I had to wait a short time for the 341 coach – I got my ticket stamped and had the ticket agent issue the return trip ticket that I had left open. Once on the coach, I settled back in the seat and enjoyed the scenery on the eighty-one mile trip to Birmingham.  Along the way we passed through (and stopped at) Stafford and Wolverhampton.  I was able to take an earlier bus than I thought by about an hour and a half – and Chris met me at the Digbeth Coach Station.  We walked to the trains and got to his home by 1300 or so.

We didn’t do much the rest of Saturday or Sunday – Monday we would leave for Wales and Ireland, but prior to that we kept things limited and restful!  We did go pick up the rental car on Sunday morning – Chris’ father Peter gave us a lift to the airport and we got the car from Enterprise and headed out of the airport. I didn’t stop to figure out the OEM GPS system – I was relying on Chris to get us back home.  We got lost almost immediately.  The GPS directed us about three-fourths of the way back to their house – then reset itself somehow and took us BACK to the airport (operator error).  But we made it finally, and we visited some more, tickled the dog, then went to dinner at Al and Sarah’s.

Al Thomson at the Grill

Al is a great hand at the grill – and he grilled all kinds of treats for us in his backyard in Birmingham in October…  We sat around and told stories for a while – someone had run into and knocked down the little wall in front of their home earlier in the afternoon – and everyone was still excited about that.  But the food and the company were great and when we finally left, we snuck out and left the dog with Al and Sarah.  They dog-sat him while we went roaming around Ireland. When they got him back home again, he sat in the corner and glared reproachfully at everyone for some time -- so I think he was pretty pissed about the whole thing (being left out).

Getting to Ireland and how to completely torque off the Irish in just two days...

We took off for Wales and the ferry dock at Holyhead by about 0800 on Monday morning. We got turned around when I missed a roundabout exit (took the wrong one so it wasn't just a matter of going around again).  It took a few miles to get to the next one and do a hhuey (that's how they spell it in Wales...).  It was raining and it was rush hour -- so it was a little stressful at first.  But finally things got calmer (both traffic-wise and emotionally) and we made good time all morning.  We stopped once or twice -- at a little roadside park by a little lake -- Llyn Ogwen.  We also stopped at a roadside refreshment stand and had drinks and chocolate.  We got to Holyhead in plenty of time and had lunch before we got on the ferry. 

On board Ulysses

After the three hour ferry crossing on Ulysses, the "largest passenger car ferry in the world," we arrived in Dublin.  After getting off in the wrong direction again, we stopped to make hotel reservations, and we discovered Chris had lost his credit card!  So we straightened that out and then made our way to a Best Western hotel for dinner and a good sleep.  At breakfast the next morning, I absent-mindedly asked for a full Irish breakfast... only I called it an ENGLISH breakfast. The waiter had been friendly up until that point. After that, it was positively frosty and I am not sure he ever warmed up to us again. 

It took about three hours to drive across Ireland to the Cliffs of Moher.  I got some photos of Dunguaire Castle along the way...  it is near Galway.  Arriving at the Cliffs, we took a short walk out to the edge and along it.  The light was behind the cliffs for us and so the photos aren't perfect of the most dramatic part of the landscape -- but I got some really pretty photos looking in the other direction. 

At the Cliffs of Moher

I was dismayed at the blatant commercialism of the development of this beautiful place.  Apparently, the Irish have taken lessons from crass American developers and retailers -- the atmosphere at this place was about as bad as what Tombstone or Dodge City has become.  For such a beautiful and dramatic vista they could have done it with so much more class - more in the vein of a National Park and kept the tourist-baiting and souvenir-hawking at a respectable distance... That said, the view from the cliff-tops was magnificent.

When entering the park, I attempted to pay with English pounds.  I didn't mean to -- I had already obtained a supply of Euros.  But I had one type in one pocket and the other currency in the other pocket.  I stuck my hand in the wrong pocket in a hurry so I wouldn't hold up the queue, and oops...  another p.o.'d Irish person.  "We don't take English."  Why not give a poor traveler a break once in a while, eh? The Irish propensity for being "testy" is overrated in my opinion.

On to Cork...

We stayed the night at the Best Western Hotel Montenotte in Cork (and THERE met some friendly Irish people for a change)!  We drove the remaining short distance to Cobh on Wednesday morning.  Cobh was known as Queenstown one hundred years ago and it was a major port on the south Irish coast.  Many Irish emigrants left from Queenstown for the New World.  It was the last port of call for Titanic before she sailed off into history and it was the closest harbor to the place where the Lusitania was sunk just three years later (less than 18 miles off the coast).  We checked out the original White Star Line terminal and the Lusitania Memorial on the center of the Cobh waterfront.  The original quay still stands from which the Titanic's last boarding passengers departed on small tenders.  And we searched through the Old Church Cemetery to find the common graves of the unidentified dead from the Lusitania tragedy.  There was no DNA to help, and hundreds of the victims could not be identified. This town took care to inter them as their own.

Old Queenstown

In downtown Cobh, we had a late breakfast at a quaint little café just behind the White Star building and the Lusitania Memorial.  I think the location is called Casement Square.  I looked on Google maps to see if I could name the place for you, but alas, Google's photo on "street view" is outdated and shows the place boarded up.  I assure you it is not at present, and the food and the ladies running it were delightful!  Well, the food was good, and the ladies delightful.  Of all the places I ate (at restaurants) on this vacation, this was my favorite (although Sampans in Manchester runs a close 2nd).  The café, if you go, is at the rear of Casement Square on the west side of the street.  It is next to a pub with a varnished wooden façade.

We stopped at the Old Church cemetery on the way out of town (once we found it) and snooped around for a while, until some chilly rain made it too uncomfortable.  In addition to the Lusitania victims' graves, we found veterans' graves from both World Wars.  I snapped photos of several in hopes of learning about their ships and their battles once I got home and connected to the web again.

Southern Ireland

We had to be back at the ferry dock at Rosslare Harbor by evening, but we had plenty of time so we set the GPS for the shortest route (for back-roads and scenery) and we spent the better part of the next two hours negotiating the "scenic route." Some of the roads were not only narrow, they were unimproved; I eventually started worrying about taking too much time and getting into trouble as a result, so we re-programmed for speed and got back on dual-carriageways for the most part (what we'd call a divided highway 'round here), through Waterford, Wexford and New Ross.  I probably worried about it for nothing, but better safe than left behind at the ferry dock.

As we passed through New Ross, right on the border of Counties Kilkenny and Wexford, we spotted an old sailing ship moored near the downtown -- the Dunbrody Famine Ship, a replica of a barque representing the many similar ships that brought the starving Irish to America. I wanted a photo of it but when we stopped, the sun was in the frame and I couldn't get a good one.  So I stole this one...  I did not go onboard the ship for the tour, but I did buy a couple of souvenirs in the visitor's center and we discovered that President Kennedy gave a speech at this spot during his Ireland visit in summer of 1963.  The whole town turned out to hear and see him and they have memorialized the event at this place from which his grandparents sailed for America in 1849; Kennedy is still big in Ireland.  We just stumbled across this -- I had no idea of that history when we saw the ship from a highway bridge nearby.  Sometimes it pays to just get out of the car and walk around!

The port of Rosslare Harbor wasn't too far away and we got there early.  So we stopped at a pub nearby (the Last Pub in Ireland -- "Kilrane's") and relaxed, ate and waited for time to go to the dock.

Upon arrival home I have discovered that we were very near to the locations of the filming of John Ford's classic, "The Quiet Man."  I should have checked that out before leaving because I really would have enjoyed seeing those places (around the village of Cong).

Ferrying back to Wales on rough seas in the dark...

SE Ireland and Rosslare Harbor

We snoozed on the ferry crossing mostly; we left Rosslare Harbor on time and immediately discovered the crossing would be a rough one.  The ship was pitching up and down probably 8-10 feet.  Chris and I went up to take a look around but it was chilly and we didn’t stay up there long.  So we all stretched out on the sofas in our lounge area and rested until we were almost to Pembroke.  That last stretch of the voyage is in sheltered waters so it had calmed down by then.  No one got sick – it just wasn’t smooth.

We arrived at about 0030, and driving off the ship we were flagged down by UK Border Protection.  They checked all our passports and seemed suspicious of us but I don’t know why.  They weren’t unpleasant, but they didn’t just give us a pass either.  That took maybe 5 to 10 minutes, then we set off toward the highway (through the industrial area around the ferry port).  For some reason, the GPS took us on all back roads all the way to Birmingham, and that lengthened our driving time significantly. In retrospect, I wonder if I had selected “no motorways” at some point.  In any event, by this time, all any of us wanted to do was “get home.”  But it was quite a drive.

Tyre Damage

We took “A” roads mostly through Carmarthen, Brecon (and past the north side of that National Park), Leominster and Stourbridge on the way into Birmingham.  I got so sleepy at one point that we stopped for me to buy some strong coffee.  That worked long enough to get us back to Birmingham.  I was so far gone at the time we stopped for the “refreshment” that I had drifted a couple of times and brushed the left-hand curb with the front tire – and which damaged the tire.  I didn’t see it but the rental car agency sure did – the tire sidewall had a small slice on it that of course is not repairable and I will be replacing that tire for them.  I am still hopeful they will be reasonable about that and not overcharge me for the tire; they retained a 300 GBP deposit to cover it.

On arrival in Birmingham, we didn’t even unload much – just went upstairs and crashed.  It was a short sleep because we had to return the car later in the morning – but very nice just the same!

Relaxing in Birmingham

Chris and I got going to take the car back to the airport in plenty of time – but we had trouble finding a refueling station near the airport.  The GPS took us to first one, then another, that were closed (meaning GONE). We finally found one still in business, and after checking the car in, walked to the trains and caught one for downtown, then back to Great Barr.

This was my last full day in Birmingham, and we pretty much just hung out!  We made enchiladas for supper (I brought the requisite corn tortillas from Phoenix).  I made them a little too spicy for some of the diners, but there were none left over either.  We also had fried chicken “burritos” made with the flour tortillas I also brought for Minette (I am such a food “mule”) and some salsa they had on hand.  It was all pretty tasty stuff.

On Friday morning, I spent a little time packing my things, Chris and I walked down the hill to the market and I bought several items to bring home (chocolate, basmati rice, jams, etc).  Just some things you cannot find around here and “exotic” – because they are English, you know. I had to leave about 1415 to catch my motor coach to Manchester.

Heading Home

Chris and I took the trains and then walked to the Coach Station, where we parted company and I waited for my bus to Manchester airport.

Earlier in the day, I had discovered that I made my overnight hotel reservation for the wrong city (Birmingham instead of Manchester). I got that straightened out and the plan was now to get to Manchester about 1845, stay at the Airport Crowne Plaza, and catch my flight at 0655. That meant getting up at about 0315, so it would be a short night.

Sampans at Crown Plaza Manchester

But the coach ran about 30 minutes late and that ended up being 1:30 minutes in heavy Friday evening traffic.  I have enjoyed the coaches in the past (National Express), but this trip was so tedious (slow and go) I found myself wishing I had taken the train instead. On arrival at the Manchester Airport, the hotel shuttle picked me up fairly quickly and I got checked into the hotel in short order – then had dinner at the Sampans restaurant on-site.  That was great!  I had sweet and sour pork, a corn and chicken soup and “hot chocolate pudding” for dessert.  I didn’t leave anything behind and capped it off with a cup of Chinese tea. The food and service were both excellent.

Arriving back at the airport on Saturday morning for my longest travel day, I even beat the airline staff there.  So I waited, then checked my bag, then waited some more… I had a small breakfast of a sausage roll at the Cornish Pasty Company.  And I waited some more. Finally got onto the Lufthansa flight and off to Munich. The skies were overcast over England – I had wanted to see East Anglia along the way but alas, perhaps on another trip.  It did clear up some over Belgium and Germany, and I saw some cities below and as we prepared for landing, the Alps shining in the sun on the horizon. There was a low cloud deck over Munich airport and we were right down to the runway before we could see anything out the windows.

Munich is the only airport I have encountered since the 70s that doesn’t have full jet-way access direct to the terminals for arriving passengers.  You get off the plane (at least in some instances), then climb on a bus and are taken to the terminal on the bus.  Having completed that little adventure, I made my way to the next gate and waited for the Munich to Charlotte flight. This one was on a big Airbus A340-600. 

A340-600

I was horrified at the seat pitch on this aircraft – Lufthansa quite obviously doesn’t care much about your physical comfort (at least in some ways).  Had it been possible, I would have rebooked with another airline on the spot. While there was legroom enough, the seat back interval from the person in front of you was the least I have ever encountered on an inter-continental flight.  Where this became the most troublesome and discomforting was when the passenger in front of my aisle-seat companion insisted on reclining his seat to the extreme position. This prevented my neighbor even from using his tray table to eat – and made it extremely difficult for either of us to exit our seats.  He didn’t even get the hint after being asked to move it forward so my friend could eat – it was his seat back and he would put it wherever he wanted to; the epitome of the Ugly American.  I felt like smacking him on the back of his red-necked head and I did not take any care about not bumping the hell out of his seat when trying to get out to the bathrooms. After all of this complaining, I have to say that the crew’s service was excellent and attentive.  A+ to Lufthansa for friendly, efficient flight attendants and in flight service!  A+ for the thrill of flying on an A340.  And a big fat  F- for their economy cabin seat pitch.

On the flight home, I saw Antwerp, Nuremburg, and icebergs!  I happened to look out of the window to find the clouds broken up a bit – and saw what I at first thought were fishing boats on the waters 38,000 feet below us.  But I figured out that we were over an ice field, just south of the tip of Greenland and there were hundreds of them floating down there.  You could even see the submerged part of the bergs in several instances – and they really ARE much more below than above!  Over Canada, we flew right down the Ste Lawrence Seaway and I could see the north shoreline and the highway on it that I have driven on more than one occasion with Genevieve when visiting up in Quebec!  So cool!

Most of the flight down the eastern seaboard was above clouds, so I didn’t see too much of that.  We landed at Charlotte, NC and I had to run for the next connection – USAir 548 to Phoenix and home!  I got stopped in Customs by a nasty, ignorant, uncomprehending little agent who insisted I answered a question incorrectly on my declaration form (I didn’t).  When she turned me back into an inspection line-up, those officers quickly came to the same conclusion I did and waved me on through after a couple of short questions about what, exactly, that I had in the bag [end of rant]. The queue for TSA had also been quite long – so I was again in danger of missing my next flight. 

My US Air Ride - A321

I made it, thanks to an unusually short queue at the 2nd  (domestic) TSA checkpoint – but I was again the last person on the plane before they closed the doors.  I had an aisle seat for this flight – a blessing I was thankful for.  The window seat guy was already asleep, before take-off – never saw his eyes until we landed in Phoenix.  The middle seat person was a young woman named Jill and while she was very quiet for quite some time, somewhere over Kansas (I think) she struck up a conversation that kept me out of my own head and distracted the remaining way home – I was starting to hurt from sitting in airliner seats for about 15 or 16 hours… she was headed back to Flagstaff for school.

In Phoenix then, after an extremely long wait for our bags to show up on the conveyor, I grabbed the city bus and got home in about 1.5 hours.  End of trip!  Back to work, planning the next one!  I usually learn something about traveling each time I go.  This time it was pay attention to connection times between flights, especially when border security and customs are involved.  Airline booking engines really don't "think" about these things and you can easily get into trouble.  Personally, I'd rather add an extra hour or two and end up waiting, rather than get stressed.  In a couple of instances on this trip, I had 1.5 hour connection timeframes and they were almost not enough. And avoid Newark at all costs (it almost always has delays).

The Beach in Winter

Waitin' for the train - Los Angeles

I made another trip on the Amtrak Coast Starlight.  I've already described that journey in another post, so I'll only write about a couple of things, things that I found different this trip.

The biggest Amtrak change I found on this trip was the food.  I wouldn’t say it was bad, but the portions have gotten smaller and the selections less attractive (for me).  I got enough to eat, but I could definitely see a difference in portion size, and less generosity in the service, meaning less willingness to accommodate special requests.  The selection of entrees has also changed -- there were fewer items that I cared to eat.  I even skipped my last lunch on board because there simply wasn't anything on the menu I cared to try. That’s pretty sad, when an eater like me can’t find much on your menu that’s looks palatable.  

The best meal - Short Ribs on Plastic

The Amtrak route guide claims the dining car's meals are served on china. Sorry -- even in the Pacific Parlor Car the dinnerware was plastic.  Very nice plastic, but plastic. At least the flatware wasn't, but how long will it not be. The prices were exorbitant.  My meals were included as a sleeping car passenger, but I felt really sorry for coach passengers who had to pay $10 even for a hot dog or a plain unappetizing cold sandwich and a drink.

I asked for a bowl of soup along with my first lunch on board -- and they charged me $10 for it; on my last trip on the Coast Starlight, that bowl of soup was at no extra charge.  My guess is that it was less than 8 oz. – and it barely covered the bottom of the bowl. I am not exaggerating. I am sure this is a function of Amtrak’s continual operational losses – and those who love riding trains will put up with it simply because we don’t want to go hungry while enjoying our rail trips.  I once rode the Super Chief and ate in the vaunted dining car on that train – when that’s the standard you measure against, I guess Amtrak will be forever behind, won’t they?

Harold

I had a really fine car attendant this trip (Harold) -- which has pretty much been the normal experience for me on Amtrak with few exceptions -- but there is always at least one crew member who doesn't "measure up."  

In this case it was the Pacific Parlor car attendant, who spent a large amount of time on personal phone calls while I waited and waited for service.  And waited. These people don't seem to have any on-board supervision -- I didn't ask, and I don't know who it might have been unless maybe it is the conductor.  But he sure wasn’t paying any attention to this slacker. At other times the guy was usually friendly, so I let it go.  It was a short trip anyway, why cause trouble. But if you read about the Pacific Parlor car attendant in the post immediately prior to this one (below), what a contrast between the two - between a guy who loved his job -- and one who apparently didn't give a damn.

While it is not an unusual occurrence, this train did not have the two usual GE Genesis power units -- our second locomotive was of a type normally used for freight operations, although it did belong to Amtrak.  It looked kind of odd, sandwiched into the streamlined consist of an Amtrak Superliner. They do use them frequently when a Genesis unit is not available – I have seen photos of them before in Amtrak trains.

I slept well; I always do on trains for some reason. Maybe it is a function of contentment and rhythm. I slept from about 2100 in Oakland until 0530 the next morning somewhere just north of Dunsmuir (CA). The train had about 90 minutes of stopped time overnight -- probably in small pieces.  Some of that was station time too. We were mostly on time the entire journey; I have read that on-time performance on this route has improved dramatically.

We got into Portland about 15 minutes early; I caught a cab immediately and picked up a rental car at the airport. After a quick lunch at Burgerville (the one I didn’t get on the train), I drove Route 26 and Route 6 to Tillamook, and then the 15 miles or so north on US101 to Rockaway. I stopped at Fred Meyer (a large chain grocery store) and picked up some supplies for breakfast and a 12-pack of Coke, then found my way to the Surfside Resort.

Why I love the beach.

My room was not on the beach as I expected, but was one building removed -- I had a small view of the waves and surf along the edge of the property line. The good news is that this was all only about a 200-foot walk between the buildings to the beach. The room was very nice, not luxurious, but clean and modern, with a nice gas fireplace, a flat screen TV and a DVD player. I brought my own movies, so I didn't have to rent any of theirs. The kitchenette was about as complete as I've ever seen in a motel. I was very pleased and happy about the accommodation, even if it wasn't an "ocean-view" room.  

I had been a little miffed about that at first, at check-in and before I saw the accommodations.  After I saw the room, I felt it would have been ridiculous to make a fuss about the less than perfect view.

I did have that one little corner view though... the very best thing about it was the price was so low I almost felt like a criminal. I felt like I was taking advantage of these people!  The same room on any other beach anywhere would have been at least $150 a night and I got it for less than half that. Of course prices are higher in the peak season, but still reasonable. I’d definitely stay there again.

I only ate one meal out, dinner on Sunday. I was there from Saturday evening until Monday afternoon. Sunday breakfast was cereal and fruit from the grocery. Micky brought lunch along with Sarah, Henry and Emmy; great subs, potato salad, and chips. Micky is getting all the credit but I have a feeling Henry was responsible for a good part of it. Monday I had the same breakfast as Sunday (leftovers!) and lunch was another sub from the things Mick had brought (leftovers!) I still ended up bringing some fruit, cereal and Cokes home; I just stuffed them into the niches in my Pullman case. Sunday supper was at the "Brewing in the Wind Cafe" (obviously a coffee house although I didn't know that until afterwards; I thought I was at the Pacific Seafood Cafe, or something like that).

Clam Chowder at Oceanside

I had a great clam chowder, pureed in the European style, a salad with Marion berry vinaigrette and a ravioli dish with chicken, broccoli and Mizithra cheese and butter. It was all great -- it didn't seem like a "fancy" place but the menu was definitely inspired. Dessert was an altogether too large raspberry-rhubarb crisp.  It was a soup-bowl-sized portion. Despite how it hurt me to do so, I had to leave part of it behind. The restaurant was about thirty miles south of Rockaway in Oceanside. It was quite a drive for dinner -- but it was Sunday night, many places were closed and I kept driving until I found something besides fast food.

I drove back, stopped again at the grocery, and watched a movie in the room – “Babette's Feast.” I got some popcorn at the store but didn't even nuke it; I just wasn't hungry much after that supper. I slept late both mornings, arising about 0930 each day (after awakening about 0800). Very, very nice, what a luxury! I slept with the door opened a few inches each night to get that fresh Pacific breeze and air inside where I could breathe it.  It was only a little bit cold. I know that some people think that I am insane. 

A wide-angle view

On Monday morning I went out to take a couple more photos. I put the wide angle lens on the camera. Hey, it's a wide beach!  So I go out toward the surf on that really nice, hard-packed wet sand between the waves and the softer deep sand?  And I turn around to take a photo of the motel? And a nasty, mean little cold wave sneaked up behind me and soaked mejeans from my knees down to the toes of my beach shoes. That wave came all the way from Japan and it had time to get lousy cold. I was planning a beach walk of about two miles, but who wants to do that with sopping, freezing feet and pant legs? The air temperature was also cold, probably 45 F at the time. So I skipped the walk.

I went back up, changed into dry clothes (and shoes) and packed my stuff for the drive back to Portland.  I had a late checkout, and then hit the road. I stopped at a myrtle-wood craft shop (didn't buy anything, the prices were ridiculous, and besides, I bought something at that same place in 1973 and I still have that) and also at the Tillamook Smoker where I DID buy a couple of things. I had a Micky-leftovers picnic in a little neighborhood park in Beaverton; may the Gods bless Garmin and Micky and Henry. This was after a rainy drive over the coast range on a road I've known since I was 14, drove with my Dad, a warm fuzzy. I turned in my rental car only about an hour late and headed for the airport security queue.

The flight home was almost a straight line between Portland and Phoenix, and landed about 2310; Linda met me at the concourse exit and I was home in bed by 0200, easy. I felt that short-sleep-night a little bit today but I will go to sleep tonight as soon as my sheets are clean and dry and I will "catch up."

I am going back asap and I want to spend a week there next time. Maybe next spring... here's to vacations, even when they're short. The only thing that is not short about vacations is my list of ideas for them.

Riding on the Coast Starlight - April 2010

Train 14 at Portland

Don’t know why they call it the coast anything, really.  It only follows the actual coastline for about 140 miles or so.  And it is not even the most spectacular part of the California coast.  But that’s like saying that cold water is not as wet as warm water, right?  I mean, any part of the California coastline can be pretty on its worst day.

I have as a “goal” – one item on my so-called “bucket list” – to ride all of Amtrak’s long distance trains.  I thought this would be easy until I started looking at the east and central train routes – the Cardinal, the Silver Meteor, the City of New Orleans, etc. When I thought about long distance routes only the western ones came to mind at first.  But my horizons have now been broadened, having had some opportunity in recent days to peruse Amtrak timetables and route guides while hanging out and waiting in train stations.  But that is a different topic.

A month or two ago, I started thinking about how I might go to Florida to see Mandy while she was there for the Super Bowl.  That didn’t work out – but then the idea morphed into going to New York City to visit with her there.  While thinking of the Florida rendezvous, I thought I could fold another travel wish into the planning – that of flying the longest possible continental USA air route – which in my estimation is Seattle to Miami.  So I started checking into that possibility, which in turn led to thinking about how to get to Seattle to start that flight – and since I had never ridden the Coast Starlight, that got included almost from the start.

In the end, the trip was from Phoenix to Los Angeles by air, by train to Portland, another train from Portland to Chicago, a road trip around Lake Superior including a stop in Dollar Bay, Michigan where I spent a summer with my Dad at age 11, then finally, a flight to Florida to spend some time on the beach. 

Two things that did not happen – the beach and the visit with Mandy. Mandy had moved home to Phoenix in the meantime. And the beach became Key West, Hemingway’s house, a lighthouse, and a cheeseburger in Paradise (at Jimmy Buffet’s place Margaritaville).  I did get to stand at land's end on the south side of Key West and look out at and across the water toward Cuba. And I never did accomplish that longest continental USA flight… that’ll have to happen on another trip sometime.

So, back to the train story.  I left Phoenix on March 29, 2010, on an early morning flight to Los Angeles.  I had to get to Union Station somehow within about two hours of landing.  This limited my options for ground transport.  I thought of the Super Shuttle vans but once I checked the fare, decided that a cab would be the better option since the price was nearly the same (within $20) and the Super Shuttle is not as reliable when you are pressed for time.  So, after I picked up my bags, I hailed a cab at the terminal curb and the cabbie got me to the station in plenty of time.  Once there, I had about an hour or a little more before departure time, so I worried about it for nothing.  But you know how LA traffic can be, especially when you are in a hurry. When you are in a hurry, there will always be a wreck on the LA freeway.

[Update: there is another option for transportation between LAX and Union Station and at a fraction of the cost -- the "Flyaway Bus."  For $7 (instead of $50 for a cab or shuttle), they will pick you up in front of the terminal on a frequent and regular schedule and drop you at a bus plaza adjacent to Union Station.  I just discovered this option and I used it this week (Feb 2013) on another trip, it was quick, efficient and comfortable!]

At Union Station, there is a special “lounge” for sleeping car passengers, which is Amtrak lingo for “first class.”  A rather sassy and jovial lady greeted and checked us in, showed the way to the continental breakfast items (of which I did not partake), and answered question after question from the mostly clueless waiting passengers. 

After waiting for boarding time to arrive, we were escorted by our first conductor to the waiting train, Amtrak’s No. 14, the Coast Starlight.  My car number was 1431 – which is Amtrak parlance for Train 14, sleeping car number 2 (or 31) which is always going to be the second sleeping car on an Amtrak train.  Ha…  I’ll bet you are now confundled! The first sleeping car on Train 14 would be designated 1430.  All sleeping cars on the train have as a prefix the train number, and then begin with 30, then 31, 32, etc.  My roomette was number 3.  On top of all this, there is also a Superliner (which is the type of railroad passenger coach) car number designation, and that is separate and apparently unrelated to all of the above – it is not used in train operations. So this last described car number designation is like the license plate -- and the first one, the 1430, is like the flight number... more or less.

1/2 of a Superliner Roomette

A roomette is a very small space, consisting of two facing recline-able chairs, with a window and a fold-down table between them.  While a very compact space, it is more than adequate for the comfort of one or two passengers.  The chairs fold flat to form a bed at night, and a second bed folds down from the space above the window (if needed). During the day, the two pillows supplied helped the squirmy Bob-passenger to attempt to remain comfortable without getting too achy.  Of course you could also get up and walk here and there, to and fro, any time you wanted to.  There was no pesky “captain” or flight attendant telling you to sit down, or not use your portable electronic device, etc.  I like this train travel, yes I do.

Oh… hurtling from car to car on a moving train?  This activity is the Great Equalizer – it makes all the graceful folks look just like all us awkward and clumsy folks. A train careening down the tracks at 81 mph or so is somewhat like a sailboat on a rolling sea – it alternately twists and bucks, lurches occasionally, and does its best to throw you against the walls, the seats, the ceiling, other passengers, etc.  It is most inconvenient.  And you never quite get used to it, although you do learn to brace yourself and hold on to seat backs, partitions, other passengers’ toupees, etc,  This helps a little.

I was shown to Roomette 3 by the sleeping car attendant – a harried woman who was “my” crew the entire journey – but I really didn’t see much of her.  She seemed a bit overwhelmed by the job, which was quite a contrast with the other Amtrak attendants I have encountered – Victor on the Southwest Chief and Mr. O. C. Smith on the Empire Builder, who each always seemed to have everything under control and made it look like an easy job. Which I am certain it is not. She meant well and I still tipped her at the end. Don't have her photo, but here's one of Mr. Smith...

Mr. O.C. Smith, Amtrak car attendant

The train rolled out of the station on time and headed north in a concrete canyon toward Burbank.  Even in the midst of the city, the train moved quickly to 60 and 70 miles per hour.  The top speed we attained on the journey was about 81 to 82 mph, and that quite frequently. 

I sat and toyed with my GPS unit – I wasn’t sure it was going to work on the train with all that surrounding stainless steel, but it did, and this made my time exponentially more enjoyable.  I had programmed waypoints using latitude and longitude, and set it for off-road travel.  This caused it to plot straight-line courses just like the crow flies (or in this case, the sea gull…), but it served the purpose and gave mostly accurate results along the way, especially as the train got closer and closer to a waypoint – usually the next Amtrak station stop along the route.

Bob’s onboard routine…  You tend to get comfortable – since a long distance train trip is going to take a day or two at least.  So I moved between the different venues aboard; there is the base – your coach seat or roomette.  You might (I might) sit there for awhile, playing my music and watching the scenery – reading – toying with the GPS.  Then, for a time, you might lurch down to the “lounge” car.  This car has larger windows that wrap high overhead, a snack bar, and is a “communal” seating area where you can scenery- gaze in concert with other Amtrak denizens.  It’s a great place to be social, if that’s what you like. 

Then, you might move to the dining car for your meal – and later back to the lounge or roomette again.  I tend to hang out in the lounge car if I know there is scenery coming up on both sides that I really want to see – the Columbia River Gorge, for example (but not on the Starlight, it doesn't go there), or perhaps the Santa Barbara – Ventura area coastline, Point Concepción, etc.

In the evening, I like to watch the scenery as it gets dark, and I stay awake usually until late evening – I turn the lights in the roomette off and sit quietly in the dark seeing whatever evening world we are passing through, pass by.  It is one of the things I always enjoy most while on a train – that evening quiet time -- and I have done this on trains since my first time on the Super Chief, in a coach seat, rolling across Illinois toward Fort Madison in June 1966.

By the time we reached the Camarillo area that first day, it was lunch time.  Do you know that Kaley Cuoco is from Camarrillo?  I didn’t. One Amtrak service feature I never did try was the room service for meals – you can have them brought right to your seat if you choose.  But I wandered down to the dining car each time – and that first meal was pretty good – a beef dish in a spicy sauce (rather Mexican in style). 

I fully expected to be disappointed in the food this trip – since Amtrak has gone to a mostly off-train preparation process.  Only a very few items are still prepared fresh on board – instead the entrees are prepared in a commissary and then reheated prior to plating and serving onboard.  For commissary food, as of 2010, Amtrak is doing a rather superb job in this regard.  I enjoyed all the meals except perhaps one (a macaroni and cheese plate).  Even that one was OK, really – it was just that there were other items I should have tried instead.

While we* ate, the train was moving on toward Ventura and Santa Barbara.  Once at Ventura, it followed the coastline – practically right on the beach itself – all the way to the Vandenberg AFB area, where it left the coast and followed the agricultural valleys north through Salinas and around the edges of San Francisco Bay to San Jose and Oakland. 

*When eating in the dining car, you share your table with other passengers. Meals are typically by reservation – the dining car manager comes around in the morning asking for your choice of lunch times and in the afternoon, for supper. Breakfast is usually first-come, first served; at least that has been my experience so far.

Sitting in my roomette, I listened to my “MP3 player” and toyed with the GPS, while watching the coastal and valley scenery roll past my window.  Mostly I had the best view on my side (left, west), but when there were interesting things to see on the other side, the opposite roomette was empty most of the time and I could simply jump across the aisle for that view as well.  That opportunity ended sometime in the night when that space was filled at an overnight stop – maybe at Sacramento.  It’s funny, it is only ten days ago and I already cannot remember anything about who occupied that roomette -- except that they did.

After supper that first day I sat in my seat and watched the San Francisco-area stations roll by in the dark – and watched for the bridge across the upper reaches of San Francisco Bay to come into view (late in the evening).  This bridge crosses the channel at Martinez between San Pablo and Suisin Bays.  During this time, the car attendant had me step out for a moment or two while she prepared my bunk.  Once across that bridge, I drifted off to sleep and slept through the night.  I did awaken once or twice.  I planned on waking for Lake Shasta – but failed to accomplish the goal.  It was still dark, a fact I would have anticipated if I had thought much about it. 

Cascades scenery and
the Coast Starlight

I finally got myself up and moving (next morning) in the vicinity of the California/Oregon border and Klamath Falls.  It was snowing!  And foggy too.  I followed our progress as we headed up into the mountains toward the Willamette Divide, and over to Eugene, and of course the Oregon Cascades mountain scenery was very pretty.  We followed the upper Willamette River and some other streams as well as we rolled down from the mountains into the valley, where we stopped in Eugene, Albany and Salem before arriving in Portland almost on time. Train time for me is measured by meal time – so breakfast was Klamath Falls and lunch was Eugene to Albany.

Scheduling is always a potential issue on an Amtrak train -- for example, the Starlight has often been called the Starlate by some familiar with its spotty record for on-time performance. But the cure for this is to relax, take it as it comes and make sure you have flexibility in your schedule and planning.

Probably the highlights of the journey were seeing surfers doing their “thing” along the coast north of Ventura, and that snow-fall between Klamath Falls and Eugene.  The golden light of the afternoon was also very beautiful on the farmlands and dry hills in the agricultural areas around Salinas and San Jose.

Another highlight was the attendant in the Pacific Parlor Car – a refurbished Santa Fe “El Capitan” car (a special feature of the Coast Starlight) that was magnificent inside with elegant appointments and wood paneling.  The attendant was extremely personable and outgoing – he had something fun to talk about just about each time you’d see him.  He seemed like a guy who really liked his job, and that made him great to deal with and talk to (kind of like a young Mark Twain). 

I had snagged a couple of snack bags off his counter while he was away – I thought since they were laying out there unattended that they must be free.  But the more I thought about that, the more I doubted it.  So as I was walking past later on, I asked him… and of course that sack of peanuts and some other similar item (can’t now remember the other one) were not free – so I had to pay for them.  He was the guy who conducted the wine and cheese tasting party onboard – but not being a wine taster I skipped that particular pleasure (I'm not much of a cheese-eater either).  Anyway, he didn’t seem to resent my initial unwitting theft of his snack products and no armed officers took me off the train subsequently so all is well that ends well. I think.

So that’s my first ride on the Starlight – Ron and Micky picked me up at Union Station after I grabbed my bags – and we went out for pizza.  I’ll probably ride this train again – maybe both ways and from San Diego next time (that is a separate train, but you can ride all the way from San Diego to Vancouver (B.C.) with only two train changes.  I’ve got to do that.