Asea with Me

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  Strait of Hormuz, Al Fujayrah, Oman
Friday, December 23, 2011

I slept like a baby. At least, I slept like a baby who had, the night before, consumed way too much champagne and way too much wine. My bar bill is going to be significant. With my balcony door wide open overnight allowing the sounds of the sea to make it seem as though I was drifting alongside the Brilliance of the Seas rather than occupying a stateroom within her, I did not awake until the sun forced me to at 7:30.

My table in the dining room is shared at 9:00pm each night with the oft mentioned Roz, Sue, Norman and Laurence along with Russell and Merriam from Palm Beach, Tony from Calgary and David and Julia who are also from the U.K. I met the Fab Four for champagne and snacks at the Champagne Bar around 6:30 and then we made our way to the Crown and Anchor Society reception at 8:15 where more champagne was poured. We hooked up with Tony there; he had commandeered a booth next to the dance floor.

It is agreed at our table that we are having more fun than anyone else in the Minstel Dining Room on Deck Four. We are positioned far from the door and in the center beneath the two story vaulted ceiling, served by the very gregarious Edin and his very subdued assistant waiter. We switched our seats all around last night with the couples separated from each other and closed the restaurant down. The excess of champagne and wine is due to the vices I have learned from these veteran cruisers. As we all finally left the dining room and walked past the ships atrium, the place was rocking as dancers filled, shoulder to shoulder, the floor to a seventies disco beat. Y-M-C-A and then the BeeGees Staying Alive? Laughing, I determined it would not be in my best interest to drown in that sea so I headed to bed last night only to find a "towel animal" wearing my sunglasses on the bed.

The seas are peaceful this morning, disturbed only by flying fish fleeing the bow of the Brilliance of the Sea. My cabin is on the starboard side of Deck Eight. As I sit on my balcony and we sail on a northerly heading the view is of Iran. Pakistan and Afghanistan are not far away to the East and Southeast. Look at the map; we are steaming north through the Strait of Hormuz today. The sea lanes here are busy with container vessels and oil tankers plentiful. The dead calm of the sea belies the turmoil on the lands that surround me. There are no pirates in these waters; they are all hundreds of miles south of here. I hope. Tranquil Christmas fare—some secular and some religious—is heard on the ships public address music system and the non-Christians don't seem to be bothered by it. I mentioned, I think, in an earlier post that 59 nationalities are represented on this cruise. There are Christians and Jews, Muslims and Hindus, Buddists, agnostics and atheists and others as well, all coexisting peacefully. We all seem to be getting along famously. Why can we not do this ashore? The ej4 Kansas City green screen television studio chief is Thorsten Fraley and on the back bumper of his car, the “Coexist” bumper sticker has been adhered. It  makes use of various religious symbols from the Star of David to the Cross to spell out that word: Coexist. I suspect the same bumper sticker is on the stern of this ship.

This morning I had coffee at the Windjammer on Deck Eleven and read email and downloaded the Kansas City Star to read later. Back in my cabin, my phone rang and a couple of my other travel companions are having camera difficulties and I am going to see if I can help them with repairs and adjustments later on today while we are at sea. Mostly, I plan to vegetate today…after I get my four miles in, of course. The treadmills here are particularly fine.

Tonight I am invited to dine with Norman and Roz and Sue and Laurence (I have been misspelling his name in earlier posts) tonight at the specialty steak restaurant, Chops, on board. These four are, as we say in the Midwest of the U.S., a hoot. They are curious about Gloria and have peppered me with questions about her childhood in England so I am emailing those inquiries back and forth to Gloria back home in Leawood. It looks as though I will need to purchase more minutes from Royal Caribbean before this cruise is out. Anyway, if you share the NRSL questions, the answers are that Gloria was born in Chiswick (pronounced “Chissick”) and moved to Surbiton when she was eleven. Her father (Gloria’s maiden name is Granville, but that was changed from Goldstein during the war) was a hairdresser and salon owner who, outside London, left Riches of Mayfair (pronounced “Reeshays”) to open his own salon, named Lucienne, in Kingston on Thames. There, Gloria worked with her dad. She has great stories to tell.

Sue and Roz, who nicknamed themselves the “nosy bitches” last night, asked about Gloria’s cooking and they’ve demanded to see pictures of her and I have complied. And, yes, Gloria writes that she makes kneidlach just the way her grandmother did, as well as awesome chicken soup, Tzimmes, mandlen, matzo brei and knishes. I am not sure of what all that is but Sue and Roz are rightly impressed. They agree with me that Gloria is hot. Smart women, these.

I run into the fearsome foursome late in the afternoon not far from the pool whereupon we decide on lattes and conversation. Reacting to Gloria’s Chiswick/Surbiton background they mention that Norman is from Hampstead (posh) while the rest of the lot are Easter’ers of Stamford Hill and Stoke Newington and that Gloria may not be willing to associate with them. I know nothing of any of this but it is important to Brits, I reckon. Soon, Roz and Sue lapse into uncontrolled laughter over something, I’m not sure what. Watching people laugh with such abandon makes it impossible not to laugh yourself. I do. Loudly.

I think if and when Gloria and I get to London a reunion and introduction is in order. Did I mention that Norman has his own London “Black Cab”? This is unlike operating a taxi in the U.S. It takes years of study, much passing of tests and the ability to meet high expectations. There is nothing I would like more than to ride with Norman from Speakers’ Corner to Kensington Palace.

Today there was shuffleboard, an acupuncture seminar, morning trivia, the jewelry beading workshop, a merengue dance class, a poker tour, a few hands of bridge, a tango dance class, the men’s international belly flop competition, a blackjack tournament, Christmas card making, a slot tournament, cash prize royal bingo, a volleyball tournament, advance napkin artistry, Hanukkah services, “What’s that TV Show?” trivia, and more. Rather than try to keep up with all that, I mostly vegitate. Doug Firebaugh believes that I am incapable of relaxing and warned me that cruising may not suit me. He’s not quite correct on that score. I am relaxing just fine.

The sunset is sublime. But, about an hour before hand, we are buzzed by some scary looking guys in a high speed outboard. I mean they are really scary looking. I don’t know what their story is but no explosions ensued so I guess we’re fine.

As I finish this chapter, know that it is only two hours between now and champagne, a fact for which I am truly grateful. I’m buying the Caymus for the crowd tonight. If I could do more for these four, I would. I feel as though I’m celebrating Christmas with my new British/Jewish family who have embraced me as one of their own.

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