Mr. Padgett:
As a longtime Carnival stockholder and elite Princess cruiser with nearly 500 days at sea with your line, I fully understand that your ships have recently been idle for two years, making no money and piling on enormous debt. You needed to make changes. I get this. If you believe nothing else I write, you can believe that.
That said, I must convey to you my enormous disappointment in Princess after a recent 10-day cruise I took with my wife. In fact, Princess now seems an entirely different cruise line, and not for the better.
It all began weeks before we even boarded the Crown Princess, when our Medallions arrived in the mail. The shortcomings of this ill-conceived piece of technological rubbish have been well-documented in this forum, and I'll not waste my time and yours by rehashing all that. I'll just say that you would have done well to do some meaningful beta testing before foisting it on your paying customers. Frankly, it's an insult to us. In fairness, however, it does make a nice refigerator magnet, as another contributor to Cruise Critic has noted. Enough said about that.
Now, to embarkation day at the San Pedro cruise terminal in California. There was, in theory, a separate check-in line for elite passengers, as always. But the Princess employee was interested only in maintaining lines of equal length, and was unaware that the elite line should have been much shorter, benefitting your most loyal customers. The sign saying so was unmistakable. Clearly, she was ill-trained for her job.
Some other problems regarding elite passengers:
-- We always received a $35-per-person onboard credit. That is now gone.
-- No special toiletries in the bathroom, as in the past.
-- No more free internet, just a discount on the regular package. Gee, thanks a lot.
It is painfully clear, Mr. Padgett, that you no longer want our business. What you do want is a younger crowd that will accept your rampant nickel-and-diming without complaint. New passengers have no way of knowing what they are now missing.Your most loyal, longtime customers have become just another burden to be disposed of.
But these problems are not the end. With no corner left uncut, you have degraded the cruising experience in other ways as well:
-- MDR food quality onboard has taken a huge hit. Portions are smaller. I almost needed a chain saw to cut my veal scaloppine. In Crown Grill, same thing. Our traveling companions ordered "tiger prawns" that turned out to be ordinary shrimp, barely an inch long. Steaks came with no sauces offered.
-- Dine My Way is a chaotic mess. What was wrong with two MDR seatings at set times?
-- You have removed the club chairs from all non-suite cabins. Why? Is it too expensive to maintain and clean them? Or have you simply cut your staff to the point that you now have no one to do it?
-- There are no longer any trash receptacles at the elevator stops. They used to be placed at every one, on all floors. No staffers to empty them, eh?
-- No padded loungers on the exterior promenade deck. Just hard, uncomfortable, upright wooden chairs. It used to be a pleasure to sit out there and just watch the ocean go by on a beautiful day. What's the matter, Mr. Padgett? Oh, right. I get it. You don't want me just having a lazy day relaxing outside. You want me inside, drinking, gambling and spending money in your overpriced shops.
-- No more chocolates on the pillows at night. Is this a small thing? You bet. Is it too small to complain about? Not at all, because it gives a perfect insight into your cut-everything-to-the-bone mindset. If the repeat passengers miss it, too bad. You don't want us anyway. The newbies will never know that the chocolates used to be there. As I said, I understand that you're in a financial hole now. But is saving money on an item as small as this worth deliberately antagonizing your biggest fans?
-- The automatic, even-though-I-don't-want-them floor-level night lights that went on in the middle of the night every time I stepped out of bed. Or even if my sheet dangled over the side. And the big one outside the bathroom that awakened my wife every time. What, we're such children that you can't trust us to get to the toilet without your help?
-- Last, but certainly not least, here's an item I just can't comprehend: An electronic panel outside my cabin door where I'm supposed to indicate whether I want my cabin serviced or just don't want to be disturbed. Trouble is, I'm standing right there with my medallion, which keeps unlocking the door and forcing me to keep reprogramming my preference, which never seems to work. My cabin steward finally told me to forget about it; nobody else could get it to work either. I mean, really, sir, what was wrong with the old-fashioned cardboard signs we'd hang on the door handle as we left the cabin? Are you so maniacally committed to electronics that you must simply have them everywhere, even when they make no sense whatever?
In short, Mr. Padgett, you win. You are rid of my wife and me. We will now take our money, and our combined 1,000 days at sea, and go where we can get a little appreciation.
There. Happy now?
KK