The first full day on the ship was a traveling day - no ports of call - just cruising. We headed north, skirting the coast of the Yukon and southernmost Aleutians, but for the most part, far enough off the coast so that the view was just ocean, with the occasional waterspout from whales using the same shipping route.
You don’t know how much you rely on copious amounts of morning coffee until you cannot access copious amounts of morning coffee. Nor did I realize how much coffee I drank and how much I relied on it until it was put behind several small hurdles. I normally wake up pretty early (apparently, according to ship schedules) and make coffee before doing anything else. No dining rooms open until 8:00a.m. There is coffee in one cafe starting at 7:00a.m., but it’s a bit of a hassle, up a flight of stairs and tucked in an unheated, uncomfortable afterthought of a corner, populated with other desperate caffeine junkies. Maybe in pre-Covid times, you could just grab a mug and fill it from a carafe, but now we must ask a waiter for each small mug of coffee. Black, no sugar. Black, no sugar. Black, no sugar. JUST GIVE ME THE CARAFE.
We tried several ways of breakfasting over the course of the cruise: get the coffee, wait, try the “buffet,” which because of Covid, was more of a “please may I” situation with an army of waiters behind the steam tables with spoons and tongs rather than a spoon yourself situation. OR get the coffee, wait a little longer for the sit-down restaurant (better food but more of a wait). OR order the free room service continental breakfast to be delivered early (you still only get one coffee per person but you can have as many donuts as you like). On the last day, we finally cracked the code: order early room service of coffee and fruit, then go to breakfast later to get yourself more coffee and maybe some eggs benny.
I used the ship’s running track to get in a few miles of walking. The ship was pushing into the wind, so every time I rounded the bow, I had to remove my air pods and hold onto my hat for fear of the wind pulling them right off my head or out of my ears and overboard. There was one other person using the running track. That’s not to say that no-one was exercising this morning. In the gym, every other treadmill was full of smarter worker-outers (Covid precautions shut down every other machine and required masks while working out indoors). The gym had one of the best views - right on the bow with floor to ceiling windows. Good work, ship architect. Eat my shoe poo, Covid.
Trying to find a comfortable spot not too far from my next cup of coffee.
At-sea days mean formal nights on Royal Caribbean ships. I brought my velvet tux. Drew had his Harris Tweed. No, we took no photos. No, I don’t know why. In the sparsely populated dining room, most people followed the formalwear orders at whatever level they interpreted the word, from floor length spangles and diamonds to one’s best cargo shorts. It seemed a bit fancy-dress in the British sense of the word - more costume than couture.
After dinner, we took a tour of the various night clubs and bars. We didn’t expect much having read about featured entertainers with such names as “Island Vibez” and “Funk It Up,” but we are in this all the way. We WILL be entertained. The music was good with the exception of one thumping, by-the-book piano player and one guitar soloist who started his set with the crowd pleaser “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head.” We forgave Funk It Up’s awful name since (a) they were from Portugal and maybe it sounds less dorky in Portuguese, and (b) they were all extremely good musicians. It was fun to sit in one bar and hear Top 40, then walk to another bar and hear solo guitar and then mosey down to the huge center atrium and hear yet another band or DJ. I kind of felt sorry for all of them, as the half-full ship meant sparse crowds at every event. Just like we like it.
Night life!
While we partied, our steward left us a little anniversary surprise (she was technically a stewardess but that brings visions of uncomfortable uniforms and carts pulled through tiny aisles and she was more of a maid crossed with a majordomo). Although we were taking the cruise about two weeks pre-anniversary, they had wheedled out of us that the cruise was an anniversary celebration, so they chose this formal night to celebrate it with us. There was cake at dinner and now a cute towel sculpture and a banner. How nice. I guess we’ll stay (smarmy face).
Nice touch!