January 12 - Roatan

                “GOOOOOOD morning!  Wake-y WAKE-YYYYY!”

                This sing-song greeting booms through the breakfast buffet dining room every morning around 8 a.m., courtesy of a tall, slender Jamaican man in a dazzling white officer’s uniform.  He has a shiny bald head, and a dazzling white smile to match his uniform.  The dining room staff chimes in as he walks through the dining room, repeating his greeting:

                “GOOOOOOD morning!”
                     “Gooooood morning!”
                “Wake-y WAKE-YYYYYYY!”
                     “Wake-y WAKE-YYYYYYY!”
                “GOOOOOOD morning!”
                     “Gooooood morning!”
                “Eggs and BAY-KEEE!”

                All the diners get a kick out of it.  I thank God I do not have to live with this man every day, for I would have to kill him for being so cheerful so early.

                This morning we are anchored off the coast of Roatan.   Unlike the other places we’ve visited, this island is mountainous.  It is beautiful.

           About 10:30, we rode a tender to the pier.   A Caribbean band and some dancers were performing at the end of the pier, and we stopped to watch them for a few minutes.

                The shopping area was small, and it did not take long for us to make our way through all the shops.  Joey and Gus headed straight for a Harley Davidson shop.  Pennie and I wandered into some other shops that sold jewelry and clothing and other tourist crap, and we eventually lost track of the guys.  We decided to stop at a corner restaurant, thinking that they’d walk by, sooner or later.  Sure enough, they did.  We had snacks – salsa and chips, quesadillas, tacos, and frozen drinks.  (I think I like the food better at my old stand-by Mexican restaurant at home!)

Over lunch, Joey and Gus told us about a Zip-Line adventure they had discovered.  We decided to give it a whirl.  A guide led us down the street and up an alley, where he turned us over to some locals who helped Joey, Pennie, and Gus into zip-line harnesses.  (I was grouchy and had a headache, and I opted not to zip.  Besides, somebody had to stay and guard our bags and cameras.)  We all climbed into the back of an enormous old 4-wheel drive pickup truck and were driven up an impossibly steep hill.  At the top, the driver told the zippers to get out and told me that I could walk back down the hill or ride down it in the truck.  I opted to ride, of course.  The ride back down the hill was scary enough that I was glad I hadn’t tried the zip-line!

At the bottom of the hill, I waited on a bench under a thatched hut.  I was sitting there, admiring the flowers and the greenery, listen to the locals talk in some language that I did not recognize, when I heard a strange voice say, “Hola!”  I looked over my shoulder, and there on the back of the bench sat a green parrot.  He said "Hola!" again and started doing wolf-whistles.  (I thought parrots only spoke English!)  ;)

          While I was admiring the parrot, I  heard a whirring noise and looked up in time to see one of the guides zipping across the sky and landing on a platform high in a tree. I grabbed the camera and began to shoot video as Pennie appeared.  She landed on the platform next to the guide.  More whirring noises, and there came Gus and Joey.  Once everyone was in, the guide leapt off the platform, and zipped to another tree on my left.  Pennie, Gus, and Joey bailed off after him. 

Joey was doing antics in the air, letting go of the harness and throwing his arms back.  I told him he looked like a minnow on a hook! 

          They all said the zipping was GREAT!  I began to wish I'd done it, too.

          After the zip-line adventure, the owners sent us around to the back of his house, where monkeys, parrots, and toucans hopped around in large cages.  The guides took a few of the monkeys out and let us hold them. 

We had all bought Cokes from the small bar under the hut, and the monkeys recognized the bottles and tried desperately to get at them.   Gus poured a little bit of Coke into the lid of his bottle and let one of the monkeys drink from it.  When Gus raised the bottle to his mouth to take a drink of Coke, the monkey stuck his tongue between Gus’s lips and the mouth of the Coke bottle, trying to sneak a drink!  It kind of grossed Gus out, but I'm still laughing about it.  ;)

          My monkey meddled in my purse, looking for a treat, and then climbed on top of my head.
         
          We reluctantly returned the monkeys to their owners and started the walk back to the pier.  On the way, we spotted a straw market, and took a quick detour through it.  Once again, the salespeople mobbed us:  “T-shirts, only five dollar!”   We bought a few things, then continued on to the pier. 

          In front of one of the shops, we met a man from Memphis.  He had been in touch with his family back home and had learned that it is snowing in Memphis today.  Awwwww…we feel so bad for them.

We had to be back on the ship by 4:30.  We made a quick run through a liquor store (a 5^th of Patron tequila for $34.00 – can’t pass up THAT deal!), then headed toward the tender.

It’s about 6 p.m. now.  We’ve showered to wash off the monkey spit and the sweat, and in a few minutes, we’re going down to dinner.

          What a  fun day we’ve had!

January 11, 2012 - Day 4, Belize

Drained by the heat and the long bus rides, we called it a night early last night and retreated to our cabins to rest.  I picked up my book but fell asleep before finishing the next page.  At 5 a.m. this morning, I woke up, read a little, fell back to sleep, and woke up again at 6:30, hungry and in serious need of coffee.  I dressed and went upstairs to find coffee and a small bagel, intending to hold off on a full breakfast until my lazybones traveling companions rolled out of bed.  An hour later, Joey joined me as I sat on deck, sipping on my third cup of coffee.   He’d gone in a different door and hadn’t seen me, and he’d already eaten breakfast.  Pennie and Gus were stirring in their cabin, he said, and would be up for breakfast soon.  The three of them had planned a snorkeling excursion which was to last from noon until about 4:30. 

The port at Belize City is evidently not suited for cruise ships.  Looking out the window, we saw three other ships anchored some distance off the coast, with “tenders” ferrying passengers to and from Belize City.  Our ship took its place alongside them.  Since the snorkeling excursion boat would bring Pennie, Gus, and Joey straight back to the ship instead of dropping them off at the pier in Belize City (where they were to board the excursion boat), we decided that the four of us would go into the city early so that we could shop and sight-see before they went snorkeling.  We rode the tender over to the city about 10 a.m.

With four ships in port, the tourist shops, lining a strip about 4 blocks long, were crawling with people.  We dutifully fell in line with the rest of the tourists, moving from store to store, seeing the same cheap crap in every one of them.  When we reached the end of the tourist trap, we turned around and started back, looking for a place to get out of the sun, eat a snack, and drink something cool.  Only a few steps away, we saw a place called “The Wet Lizard” on the second story of a building.  We climbed the steps, ordered chips and salsa and tea.  From that vantage point, I spotted a shopping area that we had not seen from street level.  My eyes lit up at the sight of a sign that read, “Craft Market.”  The snorkelers would not have time to explore it, but I would. 

After we finished resting, I walked the three of them to their excursion gathering point and began trying to figure out how to get to the back-street market I’d seen from above.  A security guard directed me to a back door which opened onto a fenced parking lot.  There was a gate in the fence, and another security guard standing near it.  He pointed to the left when I asked him how to get to the craft market.

The instant I stepped beyond the gate, I was nearly assaulted by the smell of horse poop and people wanting to braid my hair, paint my toenails, massage my feet, or sell me something.  I waved off most of them, but two aggressive women followed me down the street, one on each side of me, telling me how they could fix me up with braids and beads and manicures in as little as 10 minutes.  I finally shook them off about two blocks later, at which point other “sales people” took their places.  The booths in the craft market were disappointing; they sold essentially the same items I could have bought on the main drag.  “How about a necklace [or fresh coconut milk, or a drum], pretty lady?” they shouted, beckoning me toward them with hand gestures.  I sped up and hurried up the street, looking for the nearest gate that would let me back into the “tourist trap.”  A tender back to the ship was just about to depart as I emerged from the back streets.  I hurried toward it and climbed aboard.

At 4:30, I went to a craft demonstration on making travel journals.  The lady sitting next to me was from Germantown, and we had a good time talking about our travels.

When I got back to the cabin after the craft demo, the snorkelers had returned, all three of them as pink as lobsters and grinning from ear to ear.  Apparently, the snorkeling expedition was awesome.  After the snorkeling, they went to an island for a beach party/cookout.   You’ll have to wait for pictures of the snorkeling adventure until the underwater camera film gets developed.

January 10, 2012 - Day 3, Costa Maya

Today was our first day in port, Costa Maya.  On today’s agenda:  an excursion to Kohunalich Mayan ruins, scheduled to leave at 10:30 a.m.  There were other excursions to other ruins, but we chose the Kohunalich ruins thinking that the 2-hour drive into the interior might allow us to really see what the area was like. 

Our tour guide, Alejandro, was funny and knowledgeable about both the Costa Maya area and the Mayan culture.  I was amazed by some of the housing structures we passed along the road.  Many, many of the houses had thatched roofs made of palm fronds.  Some of the houses even had exterior walls  made of palm fronds.  With doors and windows open to catch the breezes, we could see straight into some of the houses.  I was surprised at the sparse furnishings.  Many of the houses had hammocks instead of beds, which Alejandro said the Mayans considered more comfortable and safer against “predators,” like snakes and lizards and such.  There were animals in the yards – goats, chickens, turkeys, cows.  We saw poinsettias, datura, bouganvilla, sunflowers, and other flowers I did not recognize.  We saw sugar cane, and coconut palms, and banana trees. 

We spent about 2 hours wandering around the ancient ruins (400-600 A.D.), which were disentangled from jungle growth in the 1960s.  Clearly, the structures had been burned by the Conquistadors, but traces of their former splendor remained in fragments of colorful paint on the walls and smooth-as-tile stucco on the floors.  Alejandro said that Mayan civilization had been divided into distinct classes, and that the ruling class – the king, the priests, and the architects, astronomers, mathematicians, and shamans - had lived in the stone structures, while the lower classes (tradesmen, hunters, farmers) had lived in palm-frond huts similar to those we had seen along the roadside.  Alejandro said that the only difference between today’s palm frond houses and those of 600 A.D. are the satellite dishes on the modern ones.

The stone structures were situated in squares around courtyards and plazas, grassy areas (now) which were once paved with stones.  From the top of one building, at sunset on April 12 of every year, a shaft of light would make its way across a courtyard and climb some stellae at a building on the opposite side of the courtyard.  The light would continue up the face of the building and shine through a small square window and hit an interior wall.  Alejandro was not sure why this was designed to occur on April 12 – that is, he was not sure of the significance of the date – but noted that at other ruins, similar phenomena occur on other dates (such as equinoxes and solstices), proving that the Mayans were masters of astronomy at a time when Europe was in the Dark Ages.

Near the end of the tour, we climbed a tall hill to a ceremonial temple, decorated with ancient carved masks made of terra cotta over stone.

From atop the temple steps, the view was amazing. We heard a strange call from among the trees. Alejandro said it was a toucan. When I asked him to call it over so I could take its picture, he looked a little surprised, then yelled,“Heeeeeere, tou-key, tou-key, tou-key.” It didn’t work. :-\

According to Alejandro, we should not believe the rumor that the Mayans simply “disappeared.” He said that the Mayans had simply assimilated into other cultures, but continued to exist. Various dialects of the Mayan language are still spoken here.

The bus delivered us back to the pier a little after 5 p.m.; since the ship sailed at 5:30, we were encouraged to “hoof it” to get back on board on time. But this morning, as we passed the tourist shops, Pennie had seen a tote bag that she wanted, and she wanted a shot glass from Costa Maya to add to her collection, and hadn’t had time to get them before we boarded the bus to begin the excursion. Thus, as the bus neared the drop-off point, Pennie eased her way to the front of the bus so that she could be among the first to get off. We figured that she should easily be able to run ahead and finish her shopping by the time our elderly, cane-wielding bus companions made it to the pier, and we were right; she fell into step alongside us, shopping bags in hand, as we passed by the shops.

Back on the ship, we were tired, hot, smelly, and hungry, so after a quick freshening-up, we went in search of food. We could not agree on what we wanted, and wound up sampling the buffet and then ordering a pizza delivered up to the top deck.

It’s been a great day.

January 9, 2012 - Day 2, At Sea

Today was our first “at sea” day.

I love, love, LOVE eating breakfast on the deck of a ship.  I love the wind, the sound of the waves, the reggae music pumping through the speaker system.  We had breakfast from the buffet and continued to sit on the deck for a while, trying to decide what to do with our time.

When a ship is out to sea, the on-board shops open.  We took a little time to stroll through the jewelry , perfume, and souvenir stores. 

Joey’s sister, Pennie, had said that she intended to spend the day laying in the sun on the deck, and so when we finished looking through the shops, she went back to their cabin to put on her bathing suit.  I am not much for sunning, but Joey is, and so I went back to our cabin, got my book, and joined them on the deck (though I tucked myself back into a shady area, knowing that I’d sunburn in nothing flat).  We had lunch at the snack bar on deck, then I went back to the cabin, stretched out across the bed for a minute…

…and woke up two hours later.

At 4 p.m., I went to a short origami class and learned to make a box out of paper.  Yippeee!  ;)

We had an early dinner in the main dining room, then caught the “Broadway” show in the ship theatre.  After that, we went up to the top deck to watch the LSU-Alabama football game.  When the game was over, we peeked in on a 50’s “sock hop” in one of the lounges.  Pennie & Gus called it a night, but Joey and I went to another lounge for a little salsa dancing.  Called it a night around midnight. 

When we returned to our room, we found that our steward had made us a towel animal.  Apparently, the outcome of the LSU-‘Bama game influenced his design choice.

Roll Tide Roll!  J

January 8, 2012 - Bon Voyage

Our travel documents said that our ship, the Norwegian Spirit, would begin boarding at 12 p.m. and would sail at 5.  We ate the hotel’s continental breakfast (not much to write home about, really – powdered eggs, slippery gravy, and bland sausage, but the biscuits weren’t bad).  The checkout time was 11 a.m.  I suppose we could have asked the hotel to store our bags for a while and could have gone into New Orleans to do some sightseeing, but we opted, instead, to go on and check in at the ship.

We called for a cab.  We told them we had a party of 4 and that we would be going to the port.  One might have expected that the cab company would have sent a vehicle capable of comfortably transporting 4 people and their luggage, but the cab that came for us was an old Ford Crown Victoria that already had some junk in its trunk.  The cab driver piled our luggage into the trunk, then couldn’t get the lid shut.  He tied the lid down with a piece of cord and told us to get in.  The weight of our luggage, combined with our the weight of our butts, combined with worn-out shocks, caused the car to scrape the pavement every time it bounced.  Scrunch, scrunch, scruuuunch, all the way to the port.

Shipline personnel were waiting at the curb to take our luggage, and we went inside to check in.  The process took about an hour.  Finally, around 1 p.m., we boarded the ship.  We went immediately to our rooms, dropped off our purses, camera bags, etc., and went exploring.  Up on Deck 12, the buffet was already in full swing.  We grabbed plates and helped ourselves.  When we finished eating, we walked around to explore the ship.

The sail-away party started at 4:15.  Lots of music and dancing.  There was more food, but we held off on eating for a while to give our drinks time to soak in.  Finally, about 5, the ship started to move.  The captain greeted us over the loud speakers.  We were surprised to learn that New Orleans is 100 nautical miles from the Gulf of Mexico; we would reach the Gulf some time around 11 p.m. 

The speed with which our moods improved when the ship started to move was amazing.  The breeze and the gentle rocking, combined with the music and the party atmosphere around us, brought smiles to our faces.  The tall, fruity drinks might have had something to do with it, too.  ;)

We ate a light supper and then went in search of entertainment.  There was a “free liquor tasting” in the main lobby, which we could not pass up.  Afterwards, we went into one of the lounges to listen to a small orchestra that played songs like “Moon River” and “Hello, Dolly.”  When they left the stage, another band took their place; this one played a variety of music – everything from Beatles tunes to Motown.  About 10:30 p.m., that same band transformed itself into a disco band, and one of the ship entertainment staff taught the crowd some dance moves. 

Finally, around 11:30 p.m., we headed back to our cabin.  On the way, Joel said, “I need a snack!”  We stopped by the casino for finger sandwiches, fruit, and cheese cubes, which we took back to our rooms.  It was “lights out” for us about 12:30. 

Sleeping aboard a ship is great, if you don’t mind the motion.  We don’t mind it at all!

Cruise - January 2012 - Memphis to New Orleans

Saturday, January 7, 2012

Greetings from N.O.L.A.

We boarded the City of New Orleans train in Memphis, bound for New Orleans, about 8 a.m. this morning.   This was the first problem, since we were supposed to have departed Memphis at 6:50 a.m.  Still, our spirits were high.  The Amtrak personnel had been friendly and courteous, our wait had been pleasant, and we were excited about our getting to our eventual destination, a cruise ship to Mexico.    

My husband’s sister and  brother-in-law are with us, and we four are planning to have a terrific week.

We travelled in the coach section, which we had not done before.  The seats were comfortable, with lots of leg room, and there was plenty of overhead storage for our belongings.   The stewards were friendly, and the general atmosphere was one of excited anticipation, since many of the passengers were traveling to New Orleans to attend football games .  (The Saints were to play the Lions on Saturday night, and the LSU Tigers take on Alabama come Monday.  Judging from the color of their jerseys, most of the football fans on our train were Alabama fans.) 

There was a change of stewards at our first stop in Greeneville, Mississippi.   The pleasant-looking lady steward departed, and in her place came a handsome, well-muscled man who, evidently, had been a Marine drill sergeant in a not-so-distant life.  Soon after departing Greeneville, he made this announcement over the train speaker system:

Ladies and gentlemen, may I have your attention please.  Welcome aboard the City of New Orleans.  We’d like to remind you that we are not here to clean up after you.  If you use the bathroom facilities, and you choose the “squat and aim” method, please use the paper seat covers provided for you.  If you cannot refrain from spraying everything in the bathroom, we would prefer that you remain in your seat and defecate on yourself so that you sit in your own feces from here to New Orleans.  Thank you very much.

OMG...What???

The Amtrak station in New Orleans is very close to the Superdome, where the football action was to begin within a couple of hours.  Already, fans were milling around outside the stadium, setting up their tailgate parties for the Saints came.  Banners declaring “Roll Tide Roll” could be seen hanging here and there in anticipation of Monday’s game.  On the platform, one Alabama fan stumbled and fell, scattering her belongings across the concrete.  Back in Memphis, my brother-in-law had struck up a conversation with this lady, having recognized her as a former schoolmate.  When he saw her fall, he stopped to help her.  She hadn’t simply tripped; she was staggering drunk.  He helped her up and helped her gather her belongings.  Meanwhile, the incident had caught the attention of a policeman standing nearby.  He and my brother-in-law helped the lady to a seat near the station entrance.  The policeman quickly assessed the problem and offered my brother-in-law two choices:  (1) take “custody” of this lady, or (2) the lady could go to jail until Wednesday.  My brother-in-law agreed to help get the lady to her hotel.   We got the lady inside the terminal, at which point she realized that she had left her purse and a tote bag aboard the train.  We wanted to go back and search the train, but the Amtrak employees would not let us, since the train had to be moved so that another could take its place on the platform.  Fortunately, just moments later, someone told us that some things had been turned in to “lost and found,” and when the lady checked, some of the items were the ones she was missing.  We helped her gather everything, then accompanied her out to the sidewalk to hail a taxi. 

With that done, it was time to get a taxi for ourselves.  A large SUV taxi pulled up, and the driver, a lady from Haiti, agreed to take us to our hotel in Gretna.  We loaded our bags and set off.  Traffic near the Superdome was a nightmare.   The driver, who spoke English with a very thick accent, misunderstood our instructions and took us to the wrong hotel, despite the fact that two of us had maps to the hotel pulled up on our cell phones.

Finally, at about 7 p.m., we arrived at the correct hotel.  We tossed our bags in our rooms and set out in search of dinner.  Another taxi ride, this time with a local driver who had a delightful “Cajun” accent.  We ate at “New Orleans Food and Spirits.”  The food was good.  The spirits were terrific!   Another taxi ride (with another Haitian driver), and we were back in our rooms, happy and full, and ready to hit the sack.

Georgia 2011

When my boss complained of dreading a long drive to a 3-day conference in Chattanooga, I volunteered to drive her if she'd let me take her car on down to Alpharetta, Georgia to visit a friend.  Surprisingly, she agreed.  We headed out on Tuesday, June 14.  Joel went with us and ended up doing all of the driving.

I'd given my friend a "heads up" that we'd be coming, but I didn't give her an exact date of arrival.  Thus, she was a little surprised when I called her and said that we were one hour away from her house.  I told her not to worry about putting us up, as we planned to stay in a hotel.  She generously offered to let us stay at her house, but I insisted that we would not impose on her.  I had not bothered to make a hotel reservation as I had not anticipated a problem with finding a room in Alpharetta.  Boy, was I surprised when we tried to check into a hotel, only to be told that there were no rooms available.  "Phish concert," the hotel clerk explained.  From that hotel parking lot, I called several other hotels and got the same story: no rooms available.  Thankfully, my friend again offered us a room.  We had a pleasant evening, chatting over drinks on her patio.  The next day we again shopped for a hotel room.  For a while, I feared that we wouldn't find one, as the Phish concert was a 2-night event, and most of the hotels were still full.  After several phone calls, we finally found a room, and we hurried there to check in before someone else could snatch it up.  That evening, we went back to our friend's house for a delicious steak and chicken dinner cooked on the grill. 

On Thursday, Joel and I drove up to Elberton, Georgia to see the "Georgia Guidestones."  This mysterious monument sits at the edge of a field, a little over 7 miles north of Elberton on Highway 77.  I shall not recount here the tale of the origins of this monument, as plenty of information is available with a quick internet search.  Do look it up; it is quite bizarre.

A plaque on the ground said more information could be had at the Elberton Granite Museum, so we stopped there on our way back through town.  We did a quick tour of the place, watched a film on how granite is quarried, finished, and etched, and learned that Elberton is the granite capitol of the world.  Evidently, it is the local granite that will help protect the place from disappearing when the apocalypse comes.  ;)

It was long past lunch time when we left the museum, and we began looking for a place to eat.  Understand that when we travel, we prefer to eat at places that serve local fare, or at least food that we don't typically get around our home; fast food is a last resort.  But we had chosen a route out of town that had virtually nothing but fast food restaurants.  We kept driving.  By the time we reached Athens, Georgia and saw a sign for Krystal, we decided to break our travel rule and stop there.  Following the signs, Joel steered us off the highway, but when we came to the next intersection, there was no Krystal in sight, and no sign pointing the way.  "Turn right," I told him, and we'll see what's over the hill."

He turned right.  Just past the intersection, there were two "quick stop" gas stations, a Mexican restaurant, and this:



He turned on the blinker.  I thought he was just going to turn around, but he pulled into a parking space and turned off the engine.

I gasped.  "We're eating HERE?"

"It's not fast food," he said with a shrug, "and it isn't something we'd get at home."

Reluctantly, I followed him to the door. 

If there was an indoor dining room, I didn't see it.  (I don't know what they'll do when the weather turns cold.)  The lattice-enclosed seating area had picnic tables and a pea-gravel floor.  From the rafter ceiling hung colorful tissue paper party decorations.  There were more picnic tables out back, alongside a small stream.  A chalk board near the kitchen door advertised the day's specials:  jerk chicken, jerk pork, spicy cabbage, rice & peas, squash.  We took a seat at one of the tables by the creek.  Big sticks of incense smoked along the creek bank, apparently functioning as bug deterrents.  We both ordered jerk pork, mine with rice & peas and squash, his with cabbage and lima beans.  Every bite was delicious.  I was glad that Joel had been brave enough to give the place a try. 

We headed home the next day, stopping in Chattanooga to pick up the boss.  We rolled into our driveway at about 5 p.m.  As always, though we'd had a good time on the trip, it was good to be home.