Time to break the crust again! It had grown all over me, thick and hard, in the last 6 months when I did not travel. The past winter was a difficult time. I was plagued by all sorts of health issues from minor things like skin disorders to a virus infection that kept me in bed for a week and a surgery to repair a macular hole in my retina. The surgery was partially successful. The hole in the retina closed up; however, the retina did not reattach itself to the optic nerve. With a gap between the retina and the nerve, I still see the world distorted like in a bad mirror. The surgeon suggested giving the eye more time to heal. In the meantime, I was allowed to return to my usual lifestyle which meant that I could hit the road.
A new trip always feels like the beginning of a new life. Something exciting is bound to happen. Paul Theroux in his “The Kingdom by the Sea” put this into words very well.
All travelers are optimists, I thought. Travel itself was a sort of optimism in action. I always went along thinking: I’ll be all right. I’ll be interested, I’ll discover something, I won’t break a leg or get robbed, and at the end of the day I’ll find a nice old place to sleep. Everything is going to be fine, and even if it isn’t, it will be worthy of note – worth leaving home for.
Leaving home was not easy. My husband Sergey was sad and envious at the same time. Being a freelancer, I can work from anywhere in the world. He has a job that keeps him at home. Besides, this time I did not have a return ticket and therefore no set date when I’d be back. Sergey hates uncertainty and the fact that nobody will cook his meals, do the laundry and other household duties. He is going to be lonely while I am on the road experiencing something new every day. He will come home from work to the house where only the sound of TV breaks the silence. Am I too selfish to pursue my own dreams and not to sacrifice them for my husband who cannot travel with me? Perhaps, I am. But I also learned that staying home is not a solution. It creates different problems. When I become a house fixture, I get treated like one – a piece of furniture that does not require attention, but it is good for kicking when in a bad mood. Our relationship becomes sour; we get on each other’s nerves and bicker over trifles. Spending some time apart, on the contrary, improves our marriage.
The weather in Colorado was dry for weeks. On my departure day, it drizzled as if the nature was also sad that I was leaving. My flight Denver – Miami was at 11.59 pm. I spent half of the day cooking, so my husband would have homemade meals for a while. The backpack felt too heavy. I took everything out of it, carefully examined all items and removed a few. On one hand, I needed enough belongings to last at least for one month and be prepared for all kind of weather. On the other, everything put into the backpack I was going to carry around with me and I am not a heavyweight lifter.
In Russia, they say that starting a journey in the rain is a good omen. It still rained when Sergey drove me to the bus stop. We stood there hugging and kissing until the bus to the airport came. I got on and waived to my husband who looked lost.
Being TCA pre-checked got me through the security line fast. I did not need to take off my shoes and went through a metal detector instead of a full body scan. I had a middle seat because I chose not to pay extra for something better. These airline fees make no sense to me. The flight was 3.5 hours; everyone was going to be asleep; I could survive comfortably enough in the middle. Two men sat on both sides from me. Just before the takeoff, the man in the aisle seat got up and disappeared in the back of the plane. He did not reappear when we were in the air and I moved into his seat. The man in the window seat was already sleeping, so I stretched my legs onto the vacant middle seat and dozed off too.
We arrived in Miami at 7 am about one hour late. The night rain in Denver was turning into snow; the plane had to go through wing deicing that took a while. The temperature in Miami was in high 70-es. I stuffed my coat and a jacket into the backpack which immediately made it heavier. My plan was to take Bus 150 to its last stop, to see some of the Art Deco beach area and to walk from there to the Port of Miami where I was to board a cruise ship to Europe. It was going to be a strenuous exercise in Florida’s heat and humidity, but I wanted to test myself if I was up to the challenge. When in Europe, I’d be doing a lot of walking like this.
Bus 150 leaves every 20 minutes, the ride was about 40-50 minutes. Before sightseeing, I turned into a CVS store to buy a few items that were not allowed in carry-on luggage. I bought a metal nail file, toothpaste, body lotion and some other things that were necessary to have on the trip. Each of them was not heavy by itself, but combined, they added to the weight of my backpack. I shouldered it and went to the beach.
There was hardly anyone there except for morning joggers. The Art Deco buildings looked nice, but nothing more than that. The main spoken language around was Spanish. It was breakfast time; many people sat outside in cafes and restaurants eating unhurriedly and with pleasure. I sat down for a minute, tried their lifestyle on myself and it was a bad fit. Don’t get me wrong, please. I do not judge anyone, just saying that I’d not want to lead a similar life for all money in the world.
The picturesque Venetian way took me through several islets. The sun was getting higher, so was the temperature. I stopped at a drawbridge that went up to let a large yacht to pass. Humidity made walking difficult; sweat dripped from my eyebrows and I drank up all water that was in my bottle. When I reached Miami downtown, my legs and shoulders ached from the weight of the backpack that I didn’t take off since the CVS. Feeling dehydrated, I did what I do not normally do – bought a power drink from a vending machine. The salty-sweet liquid worked like magic.
After a 5-minute rest, I got up and walked along the highway to the port. I soon realized that the pedestrian walk was on the other side of the highway and I had to cross it in order to get to the ship. I climbed over the barrier, waited for a break in the traffic, ran to the concrete median divider, sat on it and waited a little more. Passers-by looked at me with amazement and disbelief. I smiled to indicate that everything was fine. They watched how I crossed the other half of the highway making sure that I got to the pedestrian walk safely.
Four ships stood at their terminals ready to sail. I did not know where the “Norwegian Jade” was. My guts told me that it was the farthest ship. I walked past piles of suitcases, rushing passengers, taxis and delivery trucks. Sometimes I stopped and asked cruise line agents for directions to make sure that I was not wasting time and my energy. The dignified agents looked at my backpack and replied that they did not know. ‘Ma’am, you are at a wrong terminal,’ as if I could not see that myself. I finished up the energy drink. My legs barely carried me when I reached the NCL registration line. Of course, it was at the last terminal. I took off the backpack expecting a relief and felt no better without it on my back. The straps left deep red marks on my shoulders, I could not straighten my back; all muscles ached.
Luckily, the registration did not take long. The “Norwegian Jade” is not a large ship. I got my key, but the room was not ready. The ship came to Miami in the morning, the arrived passengers disembarked and the next group boarded while our rooms had been prepared for us. I roamed around the ship until I found a quiet place to call my husband and to rest. After a 4-hour walk in Miami with short breaks, I was about to collapse.
I was napping on a couch in a lounge when it was announced that at 3 pm all passengers had to go to their assembly stations for an emergency evacuation drill. I dragged myself to Deck 7 wishing that it was over soon. All rooms were ready and after the drill, I could finally go to my cabin.
It was on Deck 10, cheapest on the ship because it had no windows. Strategically placed mirrors made the room appear bigger than it was. It was spacious enough for one person and probably too small for two.
The ship left the terminal at 4.30 pm. I said goodbye to my husband. There would be no signal at sea and I did not buy access to the Internet. Our first stop was in one week at Ponta Delgada, the Azores, where I hoped to use free Wi-Fi to contact Sergey again.
I walked around the ship, to the bridge and the promenade deck. Staying inside did not appeal to me although my entire body was begging for rest. Florida was still visible when the captain announced that we had a sick person onboard who needed urgent medical help. The ship turned towards the shore and stopped after a while. We were at the latitude of Palm Springs. I called my husband who was surprised to hear from me and told him about the delay.
A small US coastal guard boat approached us. The crew lowered a platform from the ship side until it was at the same level as the boat. The sick person was on a stretcher wrapped in all white. The boat made several attempts to come close to the platform, then finally the sick person was transferred to the boat and she left. Our ship got going again too.
After a buffet dinner,” I returned to my cabin. Totally exhausted, I fell into bed and slept from 9 pm to 6 am like a log.
The “Norwegian Jade” was sailing from Miami to Southampton, UK. It was a repositioning cruise. Spring and fall are off-peak seasons when the cruise lines move their ships to the starting points of the summer and winter routes. Repositioning cruises are usually cheaper because they go one way. That suited me very well. I wanted to get to Europe and to travel there similar to how it was last year, only this time my flexibility was truly unlimited.
The ship’s captain was indeed a Norwegian although the company is American-Bermudian. Half of the senior officers were from Croatia. The rest of the crew came virtually from all over the world. For example, my room steward was from St. Lucia. He spends 8 months at sea and 2 months at home.
“The ship feels like home. When you go back it is more like a second home,” he said.
I woke up at 6 am and only managed to drag myself out of bed at 8 am. The shoulder and hip muscles were so sore after the previous day that I could not touch them, but I was glad that the back, my usual problem, did not bother me. The air temperature was 21°C and water was 26°C, warmer than the air. A camera on the bridge showed large waves. That camera can be accessed online; there are websites where anyone can see the positions of cruise ships. So my husband knew my location at any time.
This cruise was second in my life. We always preferred active vacations. When in 2014 Sergey suggested doing a cruise I laughed at him.
‘Getting old, aren’t you?’
‘No,’ he said. ‘Just want to try something different. Let’s take a short cruise. At least after that, we will know what they are like.’
So we went to Haiti and Jamaica for 5 nights on Royal Caribbean’s “Liberty of the Seas”. The ship was enormous, with excellent food and crowds everywhere. At sea, we were bored most of the time. We did not find entertainment like a belly-flop competition amusing. The stops in Haiti and Jamaica carried no cultural experience. Our overall impression was that passengers went on this cruise to pig out and to be carefree. As one woman put it, ‘You don’t even need to make your bed’. I sat on the cabin’s balcony with a book, Sergey watched TV. I swore not to go on another cruise, ever.
But ‘never say “never”’. When I checked the options how to get to Europe this spring, a repositioning transatlantic cruise suddenly looked attractive. It was for 13 days with a stop at the Azores which I probably had no chance to visit otherwise.
‘What are you going to do all that time on the ship?’ asked my husband. ‘There will be nothing but water around you for days.’
‘That’s exactly what I want – ocean breezes, unhurried schedule and no home chores. I can read, write travel stories or simply sit on the deck reflecting upon life.’
As usual, my husband was not convinced. Years ago, I’d tried to prove to him that my ideas were worth listening to. They always got rejected and I gave up. Now I discuss my plans with Sergey, get his advice and then do what I think is right.
This is how I got on board of the “Norwegian Jade” heading to Europe.
The Azores
Brest, France
Portland, UK
Le Havre, France
