Tag: Royal Caribbean

This Island of Disappointment

CocoCay_BahamasOne day into the vacations, and we’re supposed to spend our daylight on Royal Caribbean’s privately owned island. Instead, we dock at the Island of Disappointment.

If you’re from the Pacific Northwest, you understand there are places with such a name. Cape Disappointment for one. So named because Lewis and Clark didn’t find the harbor they were hoping to discover.

In the case of this cruise, the swells and winds made taking tenders ashore too dangerous. And we all want a cruise line who values our safety above everything else.

Except me. I wanted to go parasailing.

Lesson Learned

I should have went parasailing in Mexico. Sure, it would have left my oldest son all alone at the resort. Sure, I loved lounging by the pool and reading a book.

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But, while the sunny poolside isn’t always available, the book is. Parasailing above tropical waterways, on the other hand, is a limited time opportunity.

On the cruise, we were told, “If you see something you love, buy it.”

Yeah, well, maybe if I won that billion dollar Powerball pot. Otherwise, my lesson is more usable in real life.

Take the opportunity that presents itself.

I’m sure another chance at parasailing over aquamarine seas of glass will come again. Although, I don’t know when. Not when the next vacations are for family and then Italy. Unless parasailing is available off the coast of the boot-shaped peninsula.

Another cruise might be in the works. Or a return to Hawaii. Mexico is likely to happen only as a stop on a cruise, I think.

When the window of opportunity cracks open, plunge through.

Replacement Activity

It wasn’t a pretty day. I did mention wind and swells renamed the island Disappointment, right?

We sat on deck for a short time. And wandered.

The cruise director hurriedly threw together a full day of entertainment – sort of entertaining.

But when you’re imagining sailing high above clear water and gazing into the depths, what else can measure up?

They were quick to credit our account. Great. That meant we shouldn’t owe much for our gratuities and the few on-board purchases.

It didn’t cause my heart to swell with delight.

Count this lesson learned. The next time parasailing is an option, I will say yes.

The Island of Disappointment isn’t a place to visit – especially not on vacation.

The Problem with Anticipation

Image from sweetauthoring.com

Anticipation. The tingle on your tongue as the triple chocolate pie is being sliced. Your brain fires all cylinders. You’re SO ready for that delectable deliciousness.

Anticipation. Time crawls. A teenager asked to clean his room. “Polar ice caps move faster,” you tell yourself.

Anticipation. Pleasure and pain.

If you’ve ever traveled internationally, you know a day can stretch beyond 24 hours. Maybe even double up making 48 tortuous segments of sixty minutes.

That’s how this day feels. The travel day from the left coast to the right, on my way to the first ever, long-awaited Caribbean cruise.

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It might be because it started at 2AM.

I wish I was kidding about this. The cat jumped up, dug at the covers and nudged my hand until I petted him. The sheets were stuck to my back (a common occurrence during my peri-menopausal sleep phases).

My brain kicked on. “Is it time to get up? Go to the airport? Head to the cruise?”

Who needs an alarm when they have a cat?

The problem with feline wakefulness, it only happens when you don’t want need it. The day you count on those kitty paws to get you to the airport on time, is the day the cats abandon you for the back of the recliner.

My husband rolls over, turns off his alarm. I crawl out of the damp sheets, hindered by the cat curled into the bend of my knee. She’s not impressed that I’m trying to get out of bed.

No traffic at 3 am means we make it to the airport in record time. We catch up to the airport shuttle near our favorite parking shelter, which means we miss the bus.

Delightful. This early, we shiver in the near 40 degree weather for fifteen minutes until the next one comes.

I try imagining myself on the deck of the cruise liner. With no former point of reference, this attempt at mind-over-matter warming fails.

Eventually we get to the terminal, check-in, leave our bags and head through security. A short line at four in the morning.

Coffee. Yogurt parfait. How am I going to hand them my boarding pass when both hands are busy with breakfast?

The first flight is a little over half full. My eyes are burning. I close them, hope for rest.

Drink service comes, and I’m wide awake. I give in after an hour of coaxing myself back to dream land and eat my breakfast.

I’ve been hot and shed my layers. Now I shiver and shrug back into the bright pink sweatshirt.

Sleep evades me.

The buzz in my head, only slightly louder than the pounding that says four hours of sleep is not enough, announces the mocha grande skinny has shifted into high gear.

Caffeine. I hate you right now.

Did I really need that shot of sweet goodness with all this anticipation fueling me? Probably not. Live and learn.

Check back here for more musings from my first time cruising over the next several weeks.

What were you anticipating the last time this fever struck?