bluenoser2

That bit about increased security measures? We were in a city. So yes. It’s a city. Take the usual precautions. But really. After being in Rome with military personnel and rifles in plain view at every tourist stop, here we were in Marseilles. We were passed (barely) by 3 police officers. On Segways. Picture it. We were ambling. They barely passed us. We were concerned about jaywalking. They jay-segged ahead of us. How anxious can you be about police on Segways? Ah, I see….that IS the problem you say? They can’t protect us, so we must protect ourselves? Hmmmmm…this wants some thought.

So, speaking of security…..

We had a lovely time up at the basilica – the skies were clear, and the views were magnificent from there. It was the highlight of our day. AND it had nice washrooms. Just sayin’.

When we had done all we wanted to do and seen all we could see from our perch far above the city, we were ready to take our taxi driver’s advice (Bruce…you remember him? Well, Bruce with a French accent Bruce) and head “straight down”. 5 minutes it would be if you slipped and just rolled the rest of the way. However, we stopped to take pictures and whatnot, so we did not make the 5 minutes. (His sense of time may have been askew anyway, since his 25 minutes to get to the basilica was 10 minutes over his actual.)

At one point, in this “straight down”, there is a choice to make. Does one continue straight down, which is a pedestrian staircase, not the road, or start curving around on the road, which actually starts ascending for a moment? Thought had to be given to this. Memories of that sheet of paper tucked under our door regarding safety and security, visions of the two slightly disreuputable looking gentlemen sitting a few steps away on the aforementioned staircase, and well, Bubby’s general state of mind, all had to be taken into consideration. “Down” won out over safety.

Off we went – we who were formerly known as The Trepid Travellers…walking right into the Lair of Danger. Yup. That’s us. Lair of Danger….we LAUGH in your face! Well, we walked down those stairs, summoning all the swag we didn’t have, and walked by a couple other dubious looking souls along the way. The graffiti on the wall depicting Satan didn’t really help, but we made it down just fine, and entered civilization once again.

Mr. MacGeever, still possessing some of that swag, said, “I wasn’t worried. I had enough weight in my backpack with all the water bottles that I could have taken out a couple of them in one swipe.” Bubby commented, “ I took a picture of it when I assumed we were going a different way – not because we were going to actually go down it!” She referred to it ever after as “the stairs where we almost died.” Right. Call me Oblivious, but I wasn’t afraid at all. After all, I had survived the ascent in the taxi. Surely I wasn’t meant to leave this earth on the descent.

Everything after this was just anti-climactic. We strolled in the swanky streets, checked out this country’s H&M store, visited some nice chocolate shops, lavender shops, and then……it was time for the Shuttle Search.

WHAT? WE DID IT AGAIN? Poor Florence. It's a wonder she actually still comes with us on these excursions. Sorry everyone. Please don't report us for our cruelty.

Ah, sleep-in day! After some very hectic (and outrageously early) days, we could relax. We were not scheduled to even REACH port until 9:00 a.m. So of course, Mr. MacGeever was up at the crack of 5:30 for his walk up above. He made a discovery. That charming grin of his. That mysterious “I’ve got a secret and I’m not going to tell you” look in his big brown eyes. I could not get the answer out of him without showering, getting dressed and joining him in a tour of Lido.

We met the Bubby and Cubby at 8:00 and made them go look at our discovery as well.

Then it was off to the dining room for breakfast.

BY THE WAY, the buffet and dining room both have their pros and cons. The buffet is good for getting your food your way, at your speed and as much or as little as you want. But there is something to be said for hot food delivered to your table. I do like that.

We saw our guys Boris and Nenad, but alas, they were not in the area we had been assigned. Our servers were neither memorable, nor speedy. In fact we didn’t really know who our servers were for some time. It took a LONG time for anyone to come and check in with us after we had been seated. “You’re not in a hurry are you?” was the question when one did come. Well, no, we weren’t in any hurry. But still….Nenad? Boris? CAROLINA????? Anyone? A little help here? Mr. MacGeever (the Main Princess Snob in our midst) decided to bravely ask for something not on the menu. Pineapple. The man loves his fresh pineapple. Princess gives him pineapple. Whenever he wants. Not to be. “It is not on the menu.” End of discussion. However, when our omelettes arrived, there it was ….a little piece of fresh pineapple on the plates with the omelettes….hmmmmm. I gave him mine.

It may come as no surprise to any of you, that our nameless waiters FAILED the tea test. When I asked for it, the first waiter shrugged and said that the other one would get it for me. Whoever the other one was. He never came. The other one. I never got. Tea. Just as well. We wouldn’t want competition with our dear Carolina.

So, here it is. What with all those Wonderful Wedding Plans I was involved with for the past year, something had to give. That would have been my research on Marseilles. We had decided this would be our place to begin relaxing our feet, and not trying to do everything there was to do. We got ready, and we got confused. Mr. Matt was on the public address system talking about the Marseilles port and how the Vista was the furthest ship out and how it was a 25 minute DRIVE to the city centre and how there was a shuttle for $17 return per person. Add to that the notice slipped under our door the night before which warned of increased security measures in Marseilles and warnings about not going outside of tourist areas, and stay with Carnival and ….you get the drift.

We disembarked in some measure of anxiety and confusion. There was a nice set-up of gift and souvenir places right at the ship, so we knew that Worst Case Scenario….that would be our Marseilles. However, we do know, when in doubt, ask the Information Employee that is not employed by the ship. Which we did. Here we were told that a 10 minute walk would take us to the free shuttle to the city. OK. This information called for restroom stops for all of us before going any further. When Mr. MacGeever returned, he had the entire day figured out. Of course he did . “We get a taxi. We go to the farthest and highest point we want to go to – the Notre Dame Basillica. Then we walk down to the city. We find the free shuttle back to the ship. Everyone in?” We nodded our bobble-heads in agreement and went to the taxi queue. It was hardly a queue and minutes later we were secured into our taxi.

Our driver, Bruce Willis apparently, made sure we got our money’s worth! We asked, “how long to the basilica?” (on the far side of the previously mentioned 25 minute drive to the city centre). He replied “25 minutes”. OK. Let’s go. A price of 30 Euros was agreed upon. You know those movies like James Bond or Jason Bourne that take place in Europe and have a wild chase through the narrow winding roads? Yup. That was us. Strangely, I never felt worried. It was like a wild carnival ride. Definitely worth the money. And….15 minutes to the basilica. Not 25. Wow. As we tumbled out of the car, Bubby and I looked at each other and, whether because of the delight of finding out we were still alive or just the sheer joy of the wildness, we laughed. Oh how we laughed. A bit hysterically. The driver pointed down the road we had come up and said, “When you’re done, straight down that way. Walking. 5 minutes to city.” (except you must imagine that with a french accent, because it’s so much better.)

But first....(it's like commercials in reality shows isn't it?)....another view of Ponte Vecchio - we spent enough time there attempting photos so....

Oh, and it really DOES take a village to get a good shot at Pisa.....Find Florence!

And, now, back to our story......

Alas! OUR table was taken. How could this be? There were hardly ever any people in our whole section, and now, they gave away OUR table? Harumph. We grumpily (but ever so politely of course) accepted the other window table, which was actually just as nice as the first (but I'll deny it if asked), and we were still with our favourite servers, so disaster was averted.

Everyone had Beef Wellington tonight. Usually, it’s just me having it, but there they were, having it along with me. So…..my question for the day is…..why do the well done dishes get the sauce that is part of the description in the menu, but us medium-rares have to ask for it? Bubby thought it must be because of all that gross blood we have running off our rareness, but there wasn’t actually any of that. I did not correct her, because to see her enjoy meat is such a rarity (pardon the pun…rarity – she was a Well Done.) that I am not going to ruin that for anything! I didn’t like the losbter bisque for appetizer, but I did like the mac and cheese side dish. And we ALL liked the Bitter and Blanc bread pudding for dessert. Warm Vanilla Sauce. Warm. Vanilla. Sauce. Mmmmmmm. Carolina left us a little pitcher or two to add to our desserts, and we closed our eyes and savoured. Mmmmmm. Warm. Vanilla……..

Where was I? We watched Sailaway from our table – sure, in Livorno, we WATCHED sailaway. In Messina, I still don’t know where we were. Sigh. We miss ALL the fun.

BY THE WAY….can I compare Princess to Carnival? No? Too bad. I'm going to do it anyway. Don’t like Carnival TV. Not that we watch much of it. But it’s nice at night to be able to see something, and aside from a few free movies and several pay-per-views, there’s nothing. Several news channels, but that’s it. Sorry. (Was that MY Princess snob coming out? Probably just missing all those Loveboat episodes.)

After dinner, we caught a little of the Hasbro Game Show, rested our tootsies in the room, went for a stroll, and since my stomach was feeling a little queezy still from bus rides, went up to Lido and I had a spot of tea. Just a little tea. OK, a little tea and a wee piece of chocolate cake. Nothing comforts like chocolate. Mr. MacGeever still had room for a piece of pizza and lemonade…he does love the lemonade. We attempted a bit of a movie, but fell asleep after a few minutes (and there’s the reason we don’t feel like PAYING for watching!)

And so it was that we were on our way to Florence. This bus had good A/C but not a lot of leg room. In spite of this I was still able to fall asleep several times on the way to the city, where we arrived around 12:30p.m. Our meeting place now was “Bags and Shoes” which Cubby complained was a totally misleading shop name, since they also sold leather coats. I think he was just missing the Cat of Pisa.

We (of course) used the washrooms at said shop, and after Mr. MacGeever asked Silvia for her lunchtime recommendations, we went to the restaurant she had mentioned that was close by. Free wi-fi! Bubby reminded us to download our Air Canada app NOW before we were on the plane later and wouldn’t be able to. Always thinking that one. Mr. MacGeever had his third lasagna in 2 days, and declared that this one was the best. There was some pizza and calzone being eaten on the other side of the table and I had a very large salad which was shared by all. Oh the olives! They were the biggest best olives I’ve ever had. If all green olives tasted like those olives, I’d be eating them all the time. Yum.

By now, the heat had caught up to us, but at least today there were some clouds that either threatened or promised rain, depending on your outlook. And so, we toured the area close by, shopping in the leather stores, seeing the fake David statue, and the real Duomo. We people watched, and strolled the area in a leisurely manner.

Is that a wistful look Florence? No one would volunteer to take you on the carousel?

We began making our way to Ponte Vecchio Bridge and realized we had not yet sampled the gelato in Florence. That would have been a crime. The worst possible omission! We corrected that, and enjoyed a cool refreshing treat from a lovely lady who, when Bubby and I asked her what one of the flavours (“puffo” – a blue concoction) was, she replied, “It’s blue…it tastes like…puffo.” VERRRY helpful. We didn’t purchase it. Puffo is the Italian word for smurf I believe and I didn’t want to taste smurf. Fruiti de bosco. Yes. Smurf. NO.

We spent time doing photo ops at Ponte Vecchio

That Florence....ever the romantic at heart.

– our lack of photographic prowess being lamented loudly and at great length by Bubby, at which time, I heard music…violin music, and drifted off towards it. When in doubt…drift away. That’s my motto. Eventually, all was made right again by Mr. MacGeever’s patience and some decent photos apparently, and we continued back to our meeting place.

Our bus group was ready shortly BEFORE the assigned time, possibly because the heavens had decided to start opening, but really it wasn’t that bad of a rain – we didn’t even feel tempted by all the sellers of ponchos and umbrellas. Ice cold water possibly, but we were still digesting gelato, so we were all good.

BY THE WAY….on this cruise we have been participants of 3 Carnival bus/tour groups. May I just say that EVERY person in each group in all the busses were polite, punctual, and pleasant. I don’t think I’ve ever been on a cruise where I could say that. Just sayin’. Kudos Carnival Tour Goers!

After a sleepy ride back to the port, we were on the ship by 5:45. You should start playing the ominous music now because when we went to check in for dinner…..

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Another super packed day of sightseeing was planned so it was up an’ at ‘em at 5:30 a.m. Florence was jumping up and down in her excitement to go see the city named after her. (We haven’t corrected her on this mis-knowledge) Unfortunately, the lovebirds (the other lovebirds of course….you can insert some floaty hearts above our names this time…), had a not-so great night as their neighbours had the tv turned up VERY loud all night until Cubby called Guest Services.

BY THE WAY….Carnival Customer Service was excellent. After Cubby had called them to voice his complaint at 3:00 in the morning, they followed up with a written note later that day, and then a phone call after the next night to make sure all was well. And it was.

Despite all that, they were up in time to be at our meeting place for the Carnival tour “Florence and Pisa ON YOUR OWN” (a compromise…..the security of Carnival transport for Bubby and the thrill of doing it on our own for Mr. MacGeever and me. Cubby and Florence were cool with whatever we chose to do.) Because Mr. MacGeever always likes to get to the meeting place for ship tours half an hour early, we always make it into the first group and get to be on our way relatively quickly. That was true again today, and we were soon chugging along with our lovely “escort” Silvia (NOT a guide – this was NOT a tour – this was ON YOUR OWN). Silvia was great and told our happy busload scads of information on the way to Pisa, our first stop. She was interesting, and I managed to mostly stay awake. The great thing about Pisa was our bus got there before hardly anyone else, AND glory be, it was the coolest temperatures we had experienced yet on this trip.

Once having designated the meeting place, and shown the washrooms (which we of course, dutifully used right away) we were sent off to explore Pisa. This was another stop that Mr. MacGeever and I probably would not have done a second time, but the kids wanted to see it, so there we were. We had a great time with our hour there. I’m totally amused just by watching people posing for the obligatory propping up the tower photos, so I was well entertained.

FAIL

NICE TRY

PERFECTION!

We checked out the souvenirs, I got two mosquito bites (or something itchy), Cubby got 2 playful scratches from the cat he found and those were our souvenirs from Pisa.

This is a picture of Florence the Zebra. This is a picture of Florence the Zebra and a toilet. Why a picture of Florence the Zebra and a toilet you may ask? This is a picture of Florence the Zebra, and a toilet in her cleaned-by-Fidel private washroom. This is a picture of Florence the Zebra, and a toilet in her cleaned-by-Fidel private washroom, and a toilet SEAT. This is something Bubby and Florence appreciate. After a day in Rome, being on ferries, in small towns in Sicily....that's all.

When we suggested walking to the other side for a different view, we were greeted with vacant stares. Or maybe that was dehydration and heat stroke. Not sure. All I know is that there was a Metro stop right across the street from where we stood, and Bubby was hot and tired enough to allow us to use it rather than walking to our final destination the Termini strain station. Mr. MacGeever and I nodded secretly to each other. This would bring our number of “Subways We Have Been On In the World” to…uh……er….one more than it was before.

(Did I mention I LOVE these trees? Yes? Sorry.)

Our BIRG tickets came in handy and we happily boarded the subway to the train station we desired. Wow. When people on these boards said it’s a LONG walk to the track for the right train, they were spot on. We were certainly not going to make the train that was leaving 5 minutes after we got to the station, so we didn’t have to hoof it too fast to track 28. Though, we weren’t all that early for the next one either! An enjoyable time was spent by the others (not Bladder of Steel me) using the high tech fascinating restroom on this train (which DID have toilet paper) and we settled in for another quiet ride back to Civi. The inside temperature of 24 degrees Celsius felt like springtime and freshness after the heat of the day we had experienced. I thought I had never been so hot in Sicily? THIS was the sweatiest spot I had ever been (forget glowing or perspiring, this was just plain sweaty today).

Upon arrival back in Civi, we bypassed taxi drivers offering trips to the ship for 5 Euros per person, and walked back to the shuttle parking place. Again, a bus was waiting, we got on and were off right away. And that is how you do Rome in a day for 12 Euros per person, plus food. Yes, it was a lot of walking, but we wouldn’t have done it any other way to see as much as we could. Had it just been the two of us old geezers, we would have chosen different sites, and had a leisurely lunch of pizza near the Coliseum, but in order to give the kids their possibly once in a lifetime glimpse of this great city, we did it our way (Frank Sinatra fans, your turn – hum away to your heart’s delight.)

We were back at the ship by 5:00 for showers and to the dining room by 5:30. There were some very hungry patrons at our table that night! Cubby felt totally justified in getting 3 appetizers tonight – lunchtime was a long time ago! I love being on a cruise and seeing my normally picky daughter try things she wouldn’t dream of eating at home – like vichyssoise and … meat. We learned that when Carnival says in the description of the seafood pasta “scallops” - that really means one scallop, and numerous calamari. This wasn’t a stellar experience tonight – I had salmon and didn’t finish it. (It didn’t help that Mr. MacGeever passed me HIS salmon from his pasta.) The kids had lasagna – huge piece! Dessert time was cheesecake time for me, and………Carolina brought us milk for Mr. MacGeever and tea WITH milk for me without us asking for it. First Class Honours. Dean’s List. Score!

Showtime tonight was a juggler/comedian who was entertaining enough to not only keep Mr. MacGeever awake, but keep us tired travellers laughing. A walk in the surprise light rain outside on lido deck, and a wee bit of soft serve (which apparently I cannot swirl properly….Mr. MacGeever delightedly reminding me with his “Rookie…” comment) and let’s get those feet into bed time.

Back out into the heat we trod, and made our way to the Spanish Steps, with a quick stop along the way for re-funding at an ATM.

Then, on to the Trevi Fountain and some souvenir shopping. We did the “ta da!” thing for Bubby at the fountain and looked at her underwhelmed face. What? She didn’t like our favourite fountain? How could this be? For the rest of the day we were reminded that we had assured her we would be seeing the fountain from the movie “When in Rome” and that was NOT it! Sigh. I don’t remember that promise. Cubby liked it. So did Florence.

Marcus Aurelius Column, the Pantheon (where the REAL horses standing quietly in front of carriages scared Bubby because she hadn’t realized they were real),

an overview (literally) of the Roman Forum,

the Capitol Museum where flags were at half-mast (presumably for the earthquake victims?)

and after Piazzas aplenty, and not too much wasted-because-we-were-a-tad-lost steps, we arrived at the Coliseum. This is how hot and tired we were. Remember that scene from Vacation, when the family gets to the Grand Canyon and does “the look”? That was almost, but not quite, us.

Haha! Florence ditched the formal drop earrings though. She just kept the bridal veil on. She ditched it later. It was a little cumbersome in my purse.

Thanks for everyone's input! Florence has decided you're all honourary Canadians, but only if you want to be, because that's the way we roll. Tea drinkers unite! We'll get those Carnival servers trained one day.

ONWARD.

This was the day. This was the day that the Trepids would attempt to become Intrepid Travellers. After copious amounts of research done online, we decided we could do this. We could do Rome on our own. We bravely maintained masks of calm when in Bubby’s company. Again, read on – and if you ever wondered whether you could do this yourself, know that we are the least adventurous people you’re likely to meet. And we did. It. We did it all by ourselves.

We chose to NOT leave the ship early, to avoid any major congestion on the train for the masses attempting the same. This happily meant that I could have my breakfast burrito from the Blue Iguana. (If someone had said hashbrowns would be a welcome addition to a burrito I would have laughed…but they were yummy!) And the watermelon salsa is something I must try to make at home. I went back on other days just for that. It WAS a very large burrito. I admitted defeat and did not finish.

To watch the “fun ashore” presentation given on our room TV by CD Matt, one would almost regret having made the decision to go it alone. For the reluctant adventurer, it sounds like the most foolish of foolish things to attempt this day without Carnival’s help. We laughed nervously in the face of such talk. The free shuttle is said to be unreliable. We had no such problems. So here is our experience. I’m sure others have had problems, but we did not.

When we exited the ship around 8:30 a.m., someone was there to direct us – Carnival tours this way to the right, and everyone else that way to the left. So far so good. Easy peasy. Right at the end of that very short route, was the shuttle bus. A big motor coach, that filled quickly, and we were on our way in minutes. (We noted another was just pulling up ready to fill up.) Walking this stretch would have been difficult, as the Vista was the farthest ship away from the port entry and with the hot day of walking we had planned, not necessary to prove anything. I saw no sidewalks and it looked like that could have given some of our group major palpitations if we had considered that. No matter, we were on the bus. We were dropped off at the shuttle parking area outside the dock area, and chose to walk to the train station. There is a bus as well, but we chose to walk. Because that’s what we do. Walk. It was an easy 15 minute walk – we had gotten a map of Civi on the shuttle busto make sure, but basically the best advice was the CC person who said “keep the sea to your right and you’ll find it” (those are directions even I can deal with). As well, one can simply follow all the others. It would be a really nasty prank to take the lead and just go the totally wrong way. I wonder how many would follow.

We did see one little store that advertised selling BIRG tickets, but kept walking. Sure enough, at the station there was a hefty line-up for tickets, and a smaller but still considerable mob of people at the Information office just before. Mr. MacGeever was ready to go back to the Information centre when I (summoning all my memories of CC reviews I had stored in my brain) said “Wait!” and saw the newsstand in the station, where we went in (not a soul there except the man behind the counter) and got our BIRG tickets. He reminded us to validate them in the little green machine back out in the other room (which was easily found) and we proceeded from the little station to the tracks to find where our train would be coming and going. It was early, but it was already VERY hot, and we found the area, along with all the rest of humanity. The train arrived shortly after we found the track (easily) and we were able to get on and find seats and wait in the relative cooler comfort. The train left promptly at 9:45 and we were happily on our way.

(happiliy on our way...)

Other than the washroom having no toilet paper (dang! That was what I forgot – the little emergency packets of toilet paper still in my room at home), it was a lovely, quiet, smooth ride to Rome. We knew to get off at San Pietro (seeing the huge dome out our window was a not so subtle hint) and keeping the dome of St. Peters in sight helped us to find our way to the square. Following others was not an option since we had stopped after getting out into the street to consult maps, and drink water, losing track position. We had a lot of area to cover this day, to let Bubby and Cubby see as much as possible of this beautiful city, and a lot of walking to be done!

After seeing St. Peter’s from the outside, we walked away from that area, ambling at our own pace (nice after the days of organized tours) along the river.

Eventually we stopped at a local restaurant at 11:30 for something to eat, not wanting to go longer without washrooms or food. That was an experience! “You go first” said Bubby as we clutched each other. I did, mustering all my courage and Lysol wipes, and together we managed to survive the experience (it wasn’t really THAT bad, but it was an interesting little washroom. “THAT bad” would be the first washroom we saw in Russia years before…but that’s another review from another day.) The guys gave thumbs up to their Italian spaghetti and lasagna dishes. Bubby and I were less hungry and shared a Nutella pastry and tasted their dishes. When we ordered Cokes there, we didn’t realize they would be the larger 500 ml cans – so Mr. MacGeever ended up with a little more weight in his pack because we couldn’t finish them all right then.

(oooh...product placement.)

Our happy group gathered around Luca after a successful hour of spending in Amalfi. After watching him perform a head count several times, Mr. MacGeever asked “Are we close?” (as if that would matter – you know, close enough! Let’s go!), to which Luca replied gravely, “No. We are FAR.” He patiently and respectfully declined advice from other tour members on how best to count, and in minutes we were on our way back to the boat. Clever. His counting. His managing to have our group be the LAST group back to the boat. VERY clever. We submissively took seats inside on the lower deck, and after a few minutes Luca arrived to say we could actually sit wherever we liked as the other groups had indeed had their chance. We chose to remain where we were. Close to the washroom. Not FAR. The ride back was as gloriously uneventful as the first and we were back to our lovely bus to get to Pompeii.

Mr. MacGeever and I had climbed Vesuvius and visited Pompeii on our previous trip, so we assured Bubby and Cubby that they would get excellent views of Vesuvius and not have to climb it.

We had been travelling for just a short time when poof! The air conditioning became ominiously quiet. Soon an alarm sounded (and kept sounding) from the vicinity of the driver. And soon we pulled over into one of those pullouts for emergencies. I KNEW it was too good to last. One of the “important belts” had broken. And so it was that we sat and waited for 25 minutes in the bus for help to arrive. (It was still cooler than our bus the previous day!) Luca gave us reassuring reports at intervals so we would know we had not been abandoned. True to his word, one of the other busses soon pulled up and we transferred all our belongings and selves into the other bus and made it to Pompeii without much delay. Mind you, our substitute bus was not as lovely, but it did the trick.

We were all very hungry by the time we got to Pompeii, but had to endure the obligatory Cameo Factory 15 minute tour before being led into a beautiful banquet room, where we were wined and dined. It was a filling and well cooked meal. A roving Guitar player strolled amongst the tables, and when he returned, hat in hand, we realized that to get him to stop, money would exchange hands and we could eat in peace.

Cannelloni for a first course, chicken with yummy roasted potatoes for a second, and a light chocolate chip ice-cream for dessert. There was wine enough for those who wanted it, and the washrooms here! The washrooms were divine!

The tour of Pompeii followed, and Luca was an interesting and fact-filled guide. Yes, it was hot, but there were breezes and shade. When we began our tour of the ruins, we noticed giant artwork scattered amongst the ruins. At times this was…er…interesting. At times it just got in the way. I am still undecided as to whether I liked this art exhibition within the ruins. Anyone who has seen the same, please chime in! I’d love to hear your thoughts. I know what historian Luca’s thoughts were.

(I suppose I'll never get my photos of this trip mixed up with the other trip this way)

5:30 a.m. is much more feasible after a great night’s sleep, and we hit the floor running. Jogging. Ok, maybe just ambling…. to The Marketplace. The buffet was very manageable at this time of day. First- timers, upon entering the buffet from the poolside, might be tempted to join the bleary-eyed lineup as they first come in. Do not be deceived! There is more food beyond the first line! We learned to bypass that first line, and go on, yes, on, yes, more walking before caffeine, and hit the second area, where there was all that had been at the first, plus fruit and more pastries, muffins and the like. And less people. It was too early for a Breakfast burrito at Blue Iguana, so I settled for a hodgepodge of items from the buffet, which is essentially exactly the same every day. Not exciting, but predictable. Not delicious, but filling.

After eating, we ran into Bubby and Cubby. 4000 passengers, and every time we went somewhere they found us with their offspring radar. Everyone was raring to go, which was a good thing because a long day was upon us. Sunscreen – check. Mr. MacGeever’s water supply for the rest of us – check. Bathroom stop – check. Final bathroom stop – check. Just one more bathroom stop – alright already – just let’s get to the dining room before another stop!

So, let’s talk about busses. Yesterday, we had a bus. We did not complain. It was fine. It was o.k. Today, after waiting in Reflections, we went out to our coach and met our guide Gialuca. The only thing nicer than an Italian women’s sultry accent, is the gentle tones of Gialuca. And his smile. He had a smile that lit up the room and just made you want to make the day easy for him. (Yes I know, ANOTHER Carnival tour day. We caved. Big time.) He had us at “Buongiorno”. But the bus! Leg room! We had forgotten about leg room. And Air conditioning! We thought the other bus was chugging out all that was possible. But no! This was luxury. We are not even tall people, and we luxuriated in the stretching of our legs, and the wafting cool breezes in our faces. Ahhhh……yep, you guessed it, there was some resting of the eyes in spite of my good night’s sleep.

Our lovely bus took us to Salerno, where, since we were the first of the 3 or 4 groups using the sea-faring boat/ferry, we were able to nab seats up on the top level to get the views. Luca did cajole us into promising we would let the other groups have first crack at those prime seats on the return trip. We solemnly agreed. What could we do? He smiled ever so gently and we were putty in his hands.

Somewhat trepidly, Mr. MacGeever and I settled in for the trip, remembering The Boat to Portofino (from an earlier review of our first visit to Italy). Fortunately, for our nerves, and sadly for a great story to tell, the boat ride was as calm as could be, and we breathed in the fresh sea air, and snapped picture after picture of the beautiful coastline.

Amalfi was our destination, and we oohed and ahhed our way into dock before heading into the town.

Small lanes shared by pedestrians, scooters, small cars, large vans…you name it. We had an hour to shop and explore and evade the Carnival photographer who kept popping up when we least expected it, snapping photos and saying “Room number please!”

(sign in my favourite store in Amalfi!)

After our time in Forza d/Agro, we made the descent from the mountain top. Alternately trying to stay awake, and not feel woozy, we were glad it was not us driving the bus, as our driver had to back up and make more than one attempt on most of the curves. So, for those of you keeping count, no one in our group wants to be either a flight attendant OR a bus driver when we grow up.

Next stop, Savoca! We really liked this village, and we got to walk a bit here. Up the windy (curvy, not breezy) narrow roads of the village to the church at the peak. Just as we turned a corner, the door of a home opened, and there was Apollonia’s mother. I don’t remember her real name, but she does look just like an older version of the woman who plays the mother in the movie (No, that wasn’t from my long term memory storehouse - I watched a YouTube clip, not the whole movie, to check). After we applauded her, and she waved at us, we went on our merry way. This would have been a grand time for us all to begin quietly humming the love theme from the Godfather, but there were no takers.

(the taxi for non-walkers up to the church)

This may have been the hottest I have ever been while on excursion. I couldn’t even tell where hot flashes began and natural heat stayed. Thankfully, Mr. MacGeever (bless him – no really, not that Southern kind of “bless him” but really really bless him) toted bottles of water for us all – we helped him by emptying them rapidly. That may have been why I didn’t need washroom breaks – I believe I glowed it all out. We climbed the ascent to the church where more happened in The Godfather. Look, we weren’t really worried about the Godfather – it was just a great way to see the beauty of Sicily.

We made our way back into the town centre, to the bar where something else took place in the movie, and were led out back to a shady spot with tables where we gratefully received our lemon granitas. Like a slushy, but in a goblet so it felt more classy. We were given a “cookie” (as our lovely guide with her sultry Italian voice said) to go with it. The server was patiently trying to tell us that the breadsticks, for that is more what they resembled, were to be dipped in the granita and eaten that way. Very few must have heard that, but I enjoyed them that way, and felt all Italian and proper. (Says the Ukranian descended Canadian.)

There was just enough time for Mr. MacGeever to purchase a Godfather apron after I showed it to him, at the souvenir shop and we were back on the bus.

Back at the ship by 1:30. Being Sunday, there was nothing open in the city, so we just bought our obligatory magnet from a vendor through the fence (!) on the way back into the ship. We were looking forward to air conditioning and showers at this point anyway. We ALL had Guy Fieri hamburgers for lunch – no desire to be virtuous today.

This afternoon gave me a chance to explore more of the ship. I inspected Serenity Deck, and while possibly “serene”, it was also the messiest and most crowded place I encountered. No serenity for me there. My OCD would have kicked in and I would have been straightening everyone and everything up and removing towels right and left. Left and right?

Promenade deck chairs are far more serene. We found the “secret” deck on our deck 9 at the front, which was also very serene. Maybe not if the ship was moving, but in dock – very serene indeed. Mr. MacGeever attempted the pool, but it was so crowded and the water so warm (THAT is scary) it wasn’t refreshing.

We were a little concerned about Cubby’s appetite at dinner that evening. Yes, Mr. MacGeever persisted, and won our spot at our favourite table – the computer had us down for a totally different table on the other level, so it does pay to REMEMBER your table number. Anyway, here was Cubby, not eating very much, choosing the lightest dishes on the menu. When we asked if he was alright (I being all ready with motion sickness tablets, tums or whatever else he might need from our day) he looked a wee embarrassed, and then admitted that he had a piece of pizza for lunch at 1:45. And then a hamburger. And then another hamburger. WHERE DOES HE PUT ALL THAT FOOD? We had a good laugh, those of us who COULD laugh, and explained his predicament to Nenad and Carolina, as they were also looking concerned.

I had the Oysters Rockefeller which were fine, and stuffed Portobello Mushrooms for dinner. Mr. MacGeever, throwing caution to the wind, ordered the Indian Vegetarian Meal, necessitating worried glances from Nenad. “It’s very hot” said he. ”Not a problem” said I. A scornful “phht” was all Mr. MacGeever would grant, he of the “very hot” option on any menu. Heh, heh……it was an experience all right. But I’ll just move right along shall I. My mushrooms were yummy. We finished off the meal with Chocolate Melting Cake (except for dear Cubby who took the diet version Lime Coconut Cake).

Ah yes, THE TEST. You will all be able to settle back and relax, for it was on this night, that skim milk was received in a goblet, and tea, with milk in the cute little pitcher was also received after asking. SCORE.

This evening, we took in the Amora Cuba production show. Great band, great sets and costumes, but you want to watch where you sit if bright lights being shot into the audience suddenly bother you. We learned pretty much when to avert or close our eyes. Did I say close? Mr. MacGeever actually only drifted off twice. That’s a pretty stellar compliment coming from him. Being in the Liquid Lounge. In the dark. After a full day. You get the picture.

BY THE WAY, the acoustic duo “Me and My Cousin” were possibly our favourite musicians of the cruise. Excellent. That’s all I have to say about that. Bubby was entranced. Just her style of music. We made sure we got to listen to them whenever we could during the cruise.

So after all that, you’re probably asking “WHAT ABOUT MESSINA AND THE VISTA?” Indeed. I did not neglect to mention it in my epistle of the day. We had absolutely NO idea. I don’t even know where we were at the time. Surely we would have noticed from our window at dinner, since it was on that side. Or not! I was surprised as all get-out to find out about it later in the cruise, and then watch the video of it at home! Who knew? Everyone else except for us Trepids apparently. And if you don’t know what I’m talking about….there’s lots more information on The Incident in Messina on the boards!

Sicily. Land of Mr. MacGeever’s forefathers. Well, one forefather. Not all of them. It’s the day he’s been waiting for, longing for, and dreaming of forever. Well, not forever. But he certainly has been looking at EVERY ship’s itinerary to see when a NEW ship, a BIG NEW ship, would make it there. Today was the day.

We viewed the approach into Messina as we ate in The Marketplace. (I think this is where the ominous sounding music should begin to play very quietly…foreshadowing and all.) We had ditched the kids, and did our breakfasts separately. My made-to-order omelette hit the spot just right. We were impressed with Bubby and Cubby's ability to be on time and ready to go when they promised, and off we went. Carnival Godfather tour here we come. I know, I know….we could have saved oodles of money doing a private tour. We would have had a smaller vehicle, less people, more hours. Frankly, we were just looking for a 4 hour tour (Gilligan’s Island fans can stop humming now) and well, I’ve already mentioned Bubby’s issues. We were trying to keep her anxiety levels hovering around normal if possible.

So, about me. About me and The Motor Coach. About me, The Motor Coach, and being in a spectacular place I’ve never been before. About me, The Motor Coach, the Spectacular, and Two Hours of Sleep (what happened? I thought the cruise bed was the answer!). Oh. And a tour guide, talking in sultry gentle tones in her beautiful Italian accent. Yeah. Doze City. And me with the window seat. What a waste. Mr. MacGeever gently and reassuringly saying “don’t worry, I’ll wake you if there’s anything important.” Anything important? We were in Sicily for heaven’s sake!

OK, so maybe the sleep was a good thing because by the time I was half-awake and trying to focus on the views from the switchback roads, I was getting a tad queezy. That was one awesome bus driver though. I was impressed. His skill was reassuring. The heat and my stomach not so much. However, we leapt out of the bus at the first opportunity gulping in big breaths of fresh, if not cool air, and gazed at the scenery around us in the tiny village of Forza d’Agro.

It was like stepping back in time. Bubby would tell you more about stepping back if she could regale you with her tales of the washroom she had to visit whilst there. I, with my Bladder of Steel, missed out on that one.

We noted some of the places featured in the Godfather trilogy. Just a note about us, the younger members of our group barely knew of the existence of the Godfather movies, and for the rest of us, well, when did the Godfather come out? That’s about how long it’s been. We did not do our homework and re-watch the films before the trip. We will do so now. Except that horse head thing. Don’t like that.

Dave, or is it Mel...of course - you may be an honourary Canadian in my books. Thanks for your input!

Onward then!

I had every intention of being the super cool, suave cruise guest who stays on their balcony to do some quiet reading, while the rest of the barbarians head to the lido deck to watch the Hairy Chest competition…..er…….ice carving demonstration….yes, ice carving. That was it.

(Picture of ice carving demonstration for proof.)

Suffice to say, I caved. I got lonely. I went to find the family. Were they on Lido deck 10? Of course not. Were they on 11? Nope. I headed right for them on 12 – like I knew where they’d be. We did not stay to see the winner, we did enjoy Matt and the DJ, but we had to leave with at least a little dignity, and so we went to try Cucina del Capitano for lunch and the pasta bar.

We got in right away, and checked off our heart’s desires on the list given to each of us, Bubby and I tried to be exemplary by ordering half portions. Upon their arrival, I think it is safe to say they were NOT half portions – they were the same size as the guys’ bowls. But we ORDERED half portions, so they must have the nutrition value of half portions right? OK. I’ll walk some more. We LEFT almost half of them. That should count for something.

BY THE WAY…..the pasta restaurant is a whole lot easier to find if you happen upon the staircase in the Marketplace buffet. Or you could do as we did, fight your way against the wind on deck 12, making several wrong turns, and only THEN entering, and frightening small children with your Medusa locks.

Mr. MacGeever, finally conceding defeat over my watch battery, hauled me down to the shops where he purchased one of the less expensive, but still cute watches. Generous to a fault isn’t he? I personally think he was just tired of me constantly asking him what time it was. (If you’re a late entry, you may have missed that my very precious watch died not 2 hours into our trip in the Toronto Airport. A sure sign that I was meant to be on vacation mode.)

Since it had been at least half an hour since last grazing somewhere, Bubby, Cubby and I headed off to experience Teatime in the dining room. This is one of Bubby’s favourite occasions on a cruise ship, so she wanted Cubby to experience it as well. We left Mr. MacGeever slumbering….er…reading…on the balcony.

(Mr. MacGeever "reading" on the balcony)

Lovely live violin music greeted us as we were shown a table. I noticed Bubby giggling at something behind me, and that’s when she enlightened me that a family that had just come in – two little girls all excited for teatime, their mom, and their dad – clutching his Guy’s burger plate. The family that teatimes together stays together. With a little assistance from Guy. (Tea Test….fail…brought milk only after I begged for it….albeit, in a nice little pitcher and not a little box with straw. Alas, it was cream.)

And so it was time for a little resting and relaxing before summoning up the courage and strength for elegant night. I know. Many of you do not participate. This was Bubby’s chance to wear her wedding shoes one more time. Cubby’s chance to wear his suit again. “We NEED to be ready by 4:30 to do pictures” said the perpetually angst-ridden bride. We negotiated for 5:15 and scored a wee bit more balcony time.

After receiving instructions on what we were allowed to wear (as Mr. MacGeever tells me “it’s easier to just agree”, we proceeded to get all jacked up and dodge bathing suit donned cruisers, to be the first at most of the photo op places. Keep in mind, we are not big purchasers of cruise photos, but we find the posing for, and listening to the photographers some of the most entertaining times on elegant night. I mean, picture the game of Twister. Now add formal wear. And a photographer. Yup. That’s about it. Where do they come up with these poses?

BY THE WAY…..we were lovin’ the new “Preview your pics on your device instead of searching high and low for them in the photo shop” idea. Those pics were up on the Hub app so fast, we weren’t sure if we had even finished sitting for them! (Mind you….Bubby and Cubby were feeling pretty bad for the family whose photos they kept getting on their app. They were a really fine looking family, and Bubby almost bought one until she found out how much it would be. For people she never met. )

We were 5:20 getting to the Check-in desk on 5. This was, apparently, too early. We were instructed to go straight to the dining room and just wait in line with the other commoners. Obediently, we did just that, mustering all our Trepid courage that we could to request (ever so politely) level 3. Score! We were rewarded for our bravery with a table for 4 by the window and we liked our servers and the tablecloths were on the tables and the food was wonderful and it was just a perfect evening.

(note the formal wear for Florence.....)

And so it was, that we met Nenad and Carolina, our servers for the rest of the week. They were so wonderful. We loved our appetizers. We loved our lobster and orzo. Well, 2 of us did…the others subscribe to the view that “fish are friends, not food” (apparently Lobster falls into that area. When convenient.) Dessert time….yes, I know. You’re all on the edge of your seats wondering…waiting. THE TEST. Would Nenad and Carolina suffer the same consequences as their predecessor? Would they rise to the occasion? What would happen? Cliff hanger indeed! (This is where we would go to commercial, but I’m not like that and you can’t hear the apprehensive crescendo of the musical interlude. So. Onward.)

A wee Happy Honeymoon cake was produced for Bubby and Cubby by our waitstaff, and four waiters performed the most endearing and out of tune rendition of Happy Honeymoon to You…totally embarrassing the kids.

Not that there were many around to see their embarrassment – the room was pretty empty since we eat so crazy early. Nenad proclaimed “Enjoy your extremely LARGE cake!” (Add Serbian accent and it sounds better) and was off to find the rest of our desserts. Cubby and I had the underwhelming crème brulee which neither of us cared for much, and I usually really like. We gazed longingly at Bubby and Mr. MacGeever’s dessert of chocolate hazelnut cake with warm chocolate sauce. There were no free samples offered, just murmurs and groans of delight from the other two. I did procure a taste, but I had to ASK for it. At the end of our journey, this was declared the winner of desserts. Sniff. Cubby was out of luck since he had a Honeymoon cake nearby, and another in the room.

Oh, yes... THE TEST. You thought I forgot. A goblet of milk, skim milk, appeared (still with foam from squeezing it out of its little box). The “tea with milk” was ordered, and…..tea arrived but no milk. Mr. MacGeever offered some of his ice cream, but it just wasn’t the same. (Partial pass. Sigh. At least the tea stayed in the pot tonight.)

Getting OUT of the restaurant was a challenge! It was now after 7:00, the witching hour…or something, and there were mobs of people fighting over tables. We just wanted to get out, and finally managed to do so, but lost one of our party in the process. I thought…now what! This can’t be the end. Mr. MacGeever will surely find a way to fight off the hungry formally dressed people. With all that worry, it seemed the best thing to do was visit a washroom. When in doubt, you know. Eventually we located the missing husband, and all was well. We checked out the Captain’s Toast but discovered that again, Carnival’s time of 7:15 in the Funtimes meant 7:45, so we went to Punchilners instead and sat in on two shows.

The comedians were pretty funny and once seated, we saw no reason to move until we had to, and so the production show was missed tonight. We ended our day with a Walk and Gawk…admiring all the attire of our fellow passengers. A lovely sea day. Our only sea day. Time to rest. Tomorrow begins the marathon of tours! What? We have to get off the ship? Really? Sicily here we come.

Ah. Ooh. Happy sigh. Those are the sounds you would have heard that Saturday morning as I completed my first totally refreshing sleep of our vacation. Yup. It’s a cruise bed. Nothing like it. Mr. MacGeever returned from his 6:00 a.m. walk looking slightly disgruntled because apparently there were OTHERS out and about at that hour of the morning. Imagine.

I'm not seeing the "others". I think he was pretty much alone up there.

After stealthily retrieving Cubby’s formal shirts, he discovered that while people may be doing whatever it is people do at that ungodly hour of the day on lido deck, there are no such problems in the laundry room. I know…I know….. A return visit in less than 12 hours. Trepid Travellers a.k.a. Laundry Junkies.

BY THE WAY.....my toenail polish matched the bathroom floor EXACTLY.

I Know. That was important. To all of you.

Having accomplished his valet duties for our young groom, we gathered the honeymooners and visited the restaurant for Sea Day brunch. We discovered we liked deck 3’s layout much better than the upper level. And then, lo and behold, there was Boris, our man again for this morning! We were happy to see him again in a different locale. Eggs Benny was my choice – with smoked salmon because I’ve never had it that way before. I’ll not be having it that way again – it was just ok. My favourite part was the fruit platter, and Boris making sure my teapot was alright. (They served me cream…not milk…..fail.)

(Food porn? On my watch? Never. This is healthy food.)

Having become fast fans of CD Matt the previous day, we became his groupies today. We scurried off to Liquid Lounge to watch the taping of the morning show. Along with nine other people. OK, so all the rest of the ship just watches it from their lounge chairs on lido. We hadn’t been up at the crack of dawn to reserve said chairs, so we languished in the air conditioned comfort of the theatre. Matt is no slouch, and pegged Bubby and Cubby as honeymooners as soon as he saw them in the back of the theatre. (It was probably the red floaty hearts and Hall and Oates theme that surrounds them eternally.)

Knowing I was in for an arduous day of eating, I headed up to the walking track to do my 7 laps equalling one mile. Later, I found a spot at the Alchemy Bar (it wasn’t open) to do some writing, and sniffing. (Mint leaves…..what did you think I’d be sniffing?) The cooking demo was taking place at the Steakhouse nearby and the kids met me there for that.

“Cookie” was the consummate host (oops, did I just make a reference to another cruise line? My bad) for the event, and it was certainly a pleasant and tasty diversion. Florence particularly liked the Florence-sized portions we were all served. All of us but her. When she realized this, she tried the pretty pout, to no avail – she stayed in the purse.

ah ha! I see the Canadians are starting to come out of the woodwork, instead of lurking in the background! Yarmouth! I haven't been there in a long time - we're in Springhill. And Manitoba - I used to live in Saskatchewan, but didn't make it out to your neck of the woods very often, except on those cross country trips my DH is fond of doing every now and again!

Onward.

We met our steward Fidel, but as our rooms weren’t ready and he was looking a tad concerned that we had already arrived, we left him to his job, and toted our own bad selves and stuff back up to lido and found a shady spot to people watch and wait. Not long to wait though, and our rooms were all spotless and ready for us. Our luggage had not arrived yet so we had no need to stay in the rooms for long. Our balcony rooms were lovely – no, we did not have connecting balconies or anything like that – we had chosen to be near, on the same level as the honeymooners, but not right beside them! Helicopter parents we are not.

BY THE WAY….for the first time in our personal history….robes were IN our closet from the time we arrived! And not only were they there, they were the softest plushest robes we’ve ever had the chance not to use. I always plan to use them, but I forget…..but they WERE nice. And there.

In our explorations that followed, we stood in on a flamenco dancing and singing performance in Ocean Plaza, since we had not availed ourselves of the opportunity in Barcelona. I attempted clapping along with the dancers, but after receiving frowns and mild disapproving shakes of heads from my family, I quit – sometimes that classical musical training just doesn’t help – I CANNOT CLAP. In time. On the right beats. Shoot me.

We found that things are not very punctual on the Vista. Like when they say the safety drill will be at 4:00 and no announcement comes for it until 4:30. I had heard about Carnival “ship’s time” but didn’t know that it meant ….whenever we’re good and ready and feel like it kind of time.

Unfortunately our muster station was the Liquid Lounge. A very quiet “uh oh” from Mr. MacGeever…..he falls asleep within minutes in places like this. So we had to keep nudging him, as the Carnival team was sending nasty looks our way if eyes were closing. Which of course led to wildly anxious looks from Bubby who was sure they would kick us off the ship if one of our group dozed during the safety talk. While it is nice to not have to take the life vests to the drill, we were a little concerned about not knowing where said life vests WERE in our cabin. We totally missed the signage that says clearly “life vests under the bed”. Mr. MacGeever dutifully checked to find ours – disappearing WAY under the bed to do so. Alas, no vest for Florence but Mr. MacGeever did make it out in time for dinner. I’ll just have to keep her close to me. Baggage had arrived and we unpacked. Yeah. There’s no way I can make that sound exciting. But there were lots of hangers and we found lots of space to keep our couture. (I am SO ready for France.)

Bubby and Cubby were surprised and delighted to find that our wonderful TA back home had arranged for a Happy Honeymoon cake to be delivered to their room (from Cherry on Top on board). We were delighted for them. And then we were delighted for our own selves because she had also sent us a plate of sweets. You rock Tammy.

We, being the wild and crazy Canucks that you’ve no doubt observed that we are, then proceeded up to Deck 12 – yes, 12….to OBSERVE the sail away party (on deck 10, yes deck 10). Loads of fun, began to understand why people ask “who’s the cruise director?” because Matt quickly became our favourite.

Interactive portion here – HOW DO PEOPLE KNOW ALL THE DANCE MOVES? Is it just our Baptist heritage, or does it just come naturally to people? We were incredibly impressed and awed by the passengers on this ship. They had all the moves.

We had chosen Your Time Dining which involved a tad more legwork than on our previous voyages. We were told to “check in” at a desk on level 5, where we were given a pink slip (not THAT kind of pink slip) with our table number on it, and told to go to the appropriate level of the restaurant. We had 20 minutes to get there (sounds ominous again doesn’t it) before our reservation might be given away. We weren’t sure if the 20 minutes was because (a) the ship was large (b) people have short term memory loss or (3) it was post-Olympic fervor. The 20 minute deadline was not a problem, though on the first day it could have been had we not already rehearsed the route. I did later notice that people were trying to “reserve” tables for a later time at the check-in desk. That was NOT allowed. Not. Allowed. They were not happy.

At the restaurant there are two lineups – one for walk ins (those who didn’t believe in the check-in fairy?) , and one for those who have their pink slips already. We noticed later in the cruise that fist fights were narrowly being averted (in full formal wear no less) by people not understanding why some who had not waited as long as they, were getting in before them. I’m not sure about the system, but it worked for us, so we remained Obtainers of the Pink Slips. I have since read on CC that Platinum and above hoyty toyties were given another line – I didn’t see them – they must have been on the other level.

Borislov was our man at dinner. We weren’t thrilled with our location and decided that tomorrow night, regardless of how nice Boris was, we would be trying for a place down on level 3. Did I mention that this was Cubby’s first cruise experience? Yes. He was the lone Blue card holder in our group. Carnival had him at “hamburger”. He also really liked the port of call part of the menu and tried things from it often. My favourite part of the meal was the side dish of ratatouille, but the rest was good too.

But now it was time for The Test. Yup. The Test. The “Can you get us Skim milk for Mr. MacGeever and Tea for me” test. Many have attempted, many have failed The Test. Sorry Boris. When he came, with the little juice box (with handy attached straw) of skim milk for the Man, and my pot of hot water…..well, first of all there was NO way Mr. MacGeever was going to try and sip his milk from the carton and teeny straw (he likes milk with chocolate ok?). Further, as I watched my pot of hot water, and put the tea bag into it, I noticed there was continually more water in the saucer than in the pot. I had to change saucers, because the first was beginning to overflow, before I could catch poor Boris’s attention! I believe he thought I was just very clumsy, but I managed to convey that it was the pot and not I who was at fault. We took the milk to the room and stored it in the fridge. I gave up on the tea because ironically, I couldn’t get milk for it….though Mr. Mac did offer to open his carton and squeeze me some!

Tonight’s entertainment for our group (we kept telling Bubby and Cubby they didn’t have to stay with us, but they kept tagging along!) was in Liquid Lounge. We liked the pre-show fun idea, and had no problem getting seats that became ours for the week, except for the one night when someone obviously didn’t know of our ownership. We glared. We sat close by and kept watch on our chairs. They were stalwart. We acknowledged their bravery.

Matt had us laughing so hard we were crying, the singers and dancers did a few numbers and we felt welcomed indeed. Because we had only managed to down 4 courses at dinner, we headed up to Lido (well 2 of us did…we managed to lose the others!) for some pizza. We watched them make it and savoured every bit of our mushroom pizza that was ready 4 minutes later! Since we were still awake, you can just guess what we did next! C’mon…guess. Try out one of the many bars on board? Nope. OK, I’ll help you out…we …..wait for it…..found the laundry room on our floor! AND Mr. MacGeever ironed his formal shirts. I know. We rock. Yeah. Bedtime.

Oh wow....and just when I thought I'd seen enough of Barcelona, I'm ready to go back again! We would love that! I think we may just have to do a land vacation of Spain someday. Maybe after I learn more Spanish than "siesta".

Congratulations to those of you who have made it this far. I hope this indulgently long review is providing you with some form of amusement, or sleeping aid. Thank you for your lovely words of encouragement. Keep them coming! I’m enjoying reliving the trip this way – it’s just a shame that reality keeps getting in my way.

Well, we soldiered on through jet lag, managing to stay up to the late hour of 9:00 p.m. the night previous, and up at 7:00. This was the time I made one of those silly mistakes of checking my phone for messages at 3:00 a.m. and discovering via my younger daughter Ubby, that there had been an earthquake in Italy. Fortunately, she had aborted her text to her sister regarding same, and we kept Bubby in the dark about that until Rome. She’s not good with things like that. Like the NASCAR race in Pocono where the Thunderstorm hit as we were rushing to our vehicle and we later found out someone had perished nearby from a lightning strike. We kept that one from her for months and then found out she knew about it anyway. Well, it didn’t help my sleep any, but we were up, and ready to re-pack and re-organize and finish the food in the kitchen, such as it was. French fries for breakfast anyone? Anyone? Mayo? Anyone?

Having remembered our trusty stapler, we successfully attached our Carnival luggage tags to our bags, used the washroom several times – Bubby was a little excited this morning. Oh. Let’s be honest. We all were. Excited. Really glad for the 2 washrooms.

And so it was that we checked out of our lovely home, the kind man at reception ordered us a taxi, and we were off to the port! Our driver was very sweet, and quiet – are all the taxi drivers in Barcelona so mild mannered? He greeted us with a slowly enunciated “Buenos Dias” (we obviously looked VERY Canadian at that point) and politely said “Salud!” every time Bubby sneezed. The fare was 25 euros, for those of you tracking our budget. We were at the port shortly after 10:30 as planned, and as we had booked ahead of time. I don’t see any purpose to this book your boarding time thing, but we, being the polite and obedient Canadians we are, had done our due diligence ahead of time.

And there we were. Gazing longingly at the ship, we shuffled along nto the already very long line to drop off luggage. It moved fairly quickly, due in part to many trying to get into the shaded part of the lineup – no lollygaggers here! Dropped off the luggage quickly and easily (no tipping required or expected) and headed around the corner to find the next lineup. We got our walk in this morning for sure! We went through the passport check without incident, and Bubby was able to exhale at that point. Now to the strange and surreal area where decks 1-8 are separated from decks 9-14. Sounded kind of ominous to me. Movie like. Hunger Games. While passengers for decks 1-8 lugged themselves up the staircase, we were directed to two smallish elevators (smallish – because nothing could match our apartment elevator for small and cute). We waited and waited, while janitorial staff would fill one elevator (priority boarding?) and then a wheelchair here or there. Was this the end? A cruel joke? Something out of Logan's Run? Were we just too old for Carnival? Would we meet our end when the elevator doors opened? You have to know us to understand it would never cross our mind to question the sanity of what they were asking us to do. Finally, mustering all the aggressiveness and assertiveness we could as a group muster, we all piled into an elevator, and went up to the second floor. We thought. Actually, it kind of took us to the floor all the deck 1-8 people were on and we got off a little too soon, and just walked up the next flight of stairs to our proper boarding place.

There were mobs of people below, and no one up where we were. We thought at first we had gone to the wrong place – we don’t have special status on Carnival…but no, I guess no one else could find it either! Absolutely no waiting, we were awarded our precious sail and sign cards, and we headed back down to the other level to join all those getting ready to board. Was this the line up to The End? Sheesh....Bubby's paranoia was beginning to rub off on me. To usm up, there was no languid waiting involved in our getting on the ship. We were actively processing all along, and actually on it by 11:30. Yes, we endured the stupid “We’re So Hot and Tired of Carrying our Pop…er ….Soda” obligatory boarding picture….”Smile everyone!” Yeah right. On we went to get on the ship. For real. No more Sci-fi plots.

Ok, here it comes. The moment. The entry. That jaw-dropping moment of getting on a brand new-to-you ship. That moment you always remember. Nope. Didn’t happen. I was surprised at how underwhelming the atrium was. Yes, that big fixture thingy that changes colours and graphics IS impressive, but the rest of the area is not. Sorry. Honesty. I’m all about the honesty. That’s all I’ll say about that.

You should know that as a family, we do not “do” elevators. On the ship. Ever. No matter what. Ah, I know, you think it’s another anxiety thing for Bubby. Not at all! We just have to justify all the eating somehow. We explained all that to Cubby as he was a newbie to the family, and he nodded seriously. (It was later found that he did indeed take one elevator ride, but we have since chosen to turn a blind eye to that faux pas because well, we just like him so much.) Deck 9 (our new home) was closed of course, so we headed up one more flight to the buffet. Duh. We got lemonade and just sat for a while before deciding that the eating had to begin sometime…might as well be now.

There really was no question for 75% of our group where this beginning of the Great Eating would take place. I watched the carry-ons, while the others trooped over to Guy’s Burgers. I, looking all svelte and virtuous, chose lighter fair at the buffet. And dessert. And a little more dessert. Anyway……

And....when you have too many clothes hangers hangin' around, you might want to consider this.....

And we were off! Out of the gothic quarter and down to the Christopher Columbus (otherwise known as “that Columbo thing” to Bubby) statue, and then back up La Rambla. This statue of Gaudi was AMAZING.

Not a movement, not a twitch, nothing – we almost thought they were pulling a fast one on us and it actually WAS a real statue and not a person except we could see him breathing. He won that staring contest for sure. Mr. MacGeever even parted with some of his cash to see if donations would make him move. It didn’t. Not enough probably. We went on and looked at other less impressive statue people.

Souvenirs were bought, and gelato was tested. Mmmmmm. I tried pistachio and realized after getting it that it was not the best choice for a hot day – tasty yes, but not my favourite. Dear Mr. MacGeever let me taste his mango and berry combo, and then let me finish his while he finished mine. See why he’s my favourite travelling companion? He’s the best.

These feet and heads and bodies were starting to fade, and Florence was just plain tired of having to camp all day in the close confines of my cross-body small purse. So after strolling through 2 of the 3 H&M stores we passed, we found our way back to the apartment.

Gotta know. Was it the bus that looked like a grasshopper? The sign on the bus (Bad A Tours)? or the sign that said "Refugees Welcome".

I thought they were all funny.

But I have a strange sense of humor. ;)

Yes, I hadn't realized that there were multiple funnies in that shot. When Cubby saw it, he just started to laugh and said, "well, that's good to know". He read it as 'BAD AT TOURS'.....not the best slogan for a tour bus!

The view from way up top of park Guell.....almost up to the very top, but I couldn't make myself go up there with all the other people, and no railings....Trepid indeed.

Florence didn't complain once about the heat...the cramped quarters of her little bag yes, but the heat, no. She's a trooper! (Enter ABBA fans...)

Heading back to our little casa (there I go again showing off my Spanish) , our empty tummies found the Fresc Co All You Can Eat Buffet. What could we do? So we succumbed and went in, announcing that today’s BIG meal would be at noontime. Very reasonably priced (10 euros, or 11 depending on whether you added on the grilled meat option) and all we could drink soda (pop for my fellow Canadians) – we were in. Of course, we filled up on the very good salad bar options, and by the time we got to our table, and then to the back of the restaurant where the rest was, we were pretty full. Did that stop us from eating? Of course not! We had to get in shape for the cruise. So we added pizza, vegetables, tried the grill (not worth it) and even sampled the gelato for dessert.

We waddled back to the apartment and put our tired and extremely dusty and dirty feet up for a spell.

BY THE WAY, I remembered the little plastic bag gone missing (the one with my precious Lee Valley bottle), also had my nail polish in it. So, up got Mr. MacGeever to check once again. I messaged Ubby back home (little sister to Bubby and maid of honour at the Big Event) to see if it was still in our bedroom, since I did not want to waste energy searching for it if we had just forgotten to pack it. Alas, it was neither at home, nor in the bags I had checked. I checked all the bags. Well, all MY bags. Not Mr. MacGeever’s shaving kit. He sheepishly brought it out sometime later and Florence and I had a good laugh over it and happily received it, and made sure we used all of its contents at some point in the cruise.

After the obligatory resting time, we walked to the Arc de Triomf for some photo ops, and a few photo oops, then on to the Gothic Quarter where again, they really could have just left me there for an hour or so to listen to the instrumental trio playing in the acoustically grand area they were in. Oh my. Just as well they didn’t, as I would probably never have found my way back to our little nest.

It was a lovely walk, where we occasionally played rounds of “WHERE’S CUBBY” to amuse ourselves, and terrify Bubby. Here’s one of my favourite pictures he took. Think about it. We found it hilarious. If you don’t get it….ask me, and I’ll let you know our strange sense of humour.

Sorry, got a little sidetracked there with the horticultural business. I am easily distracted. Just as when we walked away (yes, downward) from the museum, (remember we were at the Park – walking DOWN from the heights) and I heard beautiful Spanish guitar music, I followed like a child behind the Pied Piper to its melodious sounds. We discovered not one but two players in a shady spot. You could have just sat me down there for the rest of the day and I would have been happy.

Unfortunately, we only just had this last day in Barcelona to explore, and I was torn from my happy place. There were pictures to be taken! Sights to be seen! Oh the places we would go! (Dr. Seuss fans please rise…that was for you….quite appropriate I think, since most of Gaudi’s architecture reminds me of something between Dr. Seuss and the Flintstones. DO NOT get upset at me for saying that….I meant it as a compliment – all these things make me happy.)

More musicians along the way.....

We had an 11:30 a.m. entry into the Monument Gardens. Score. The 11:30 lineup was the ONLY lineup in the shade. Rock on 11:30ers. After (politely of course) shoving our way through the masses taking pictures of the iconic dragon mosaic creature at the fountain (and snagging a few photos along the way – mind you they don’t have any of OUR people in them, but the other people were fairly photogenic as well), we explored the area and rested our feet for a while on the huge stone bench area – those stone benches were surprisingly comfortable, with nice lumbar support. Too bad they were all in the blazing sun – except for the little corner where 20 people crowded in to get out of that sun! Florence and I chose the sun.

So, after trekking all the way, yes, ALL THE WAY, UP, back up, to the crosses, and getting our fill of photos of the city there, we began the trip down. Out the park, down all the stairs that are right beside the escalators (that only go up of course) and by the time we got to the bottom Bubby and I had jello legs. Back on the Metro to a different stop where we wouldn’t get caught walking underground for days, and came up above at Placa Catalunya, relishing in the spray from the fountains there before walking back to our apartment for a siesta. (Look at me, getting all local and all….siesta….I DO know some Spanish after all!)

OK, so we ARE the Trepid Travellers, but we DO like to do things on our own and have been getting increasingly braver about so doing. So with every journey we make, every breath we take, every move we make…. (Yeah, I know. Now all the Sting fans are getting into it…) we try to be at least a little independent. Much to the dismay. Of Bubby the Anxious.

So, after a strange night – that period of time from 8:30 p.m. to midnight was slumberlicious! Then it was a little less licious after that. Mr. MacGeever went for his 45 minute morning walk in the still-dark early morning while I worried and wondered what would happen to the rest of us if something happen to him. After our breakfast of hard-boiled eggs (what do you mean Cubby? you don’t like hard boiled eggs…..and I just boiled all the eggs…..) with salt and pepper courtesy of the packets Mr. MacGeever had ingeniously decided to save from the flight (Who does that?) and toast (with the options of mayo or Nutella…..ok so maybe we didn’t remember to get everything we needed at the grocery store!), we were ready to go.

Calamity reared its ugly head when I realized my special travel sized shampoo bottle (my Lee Valley bottle – Canadians will get this) had gone missing, along with the mini-air freshener for the bathroom! I took deep cleansing breaths, calmed myself down, and off we went to find our way to the subway. We left in plenty of time because generally, and as was the case this time, we get one block away from our home base before remembering things we forgot…..like Mr. MacGeever’s hard copy of a map. And Bubby’s last use of the facilities. The anxiety over public toilets was still high at this point.

The night before, when we parents had gone out for our walk, we had purchased a 10 trip ticket for the Metro at the nearest station. So this morning, we looked in charge and in control, as Mr. MacGeever calmly inserted and retrieved the ticket for each of us going through the turnstile, with himself last. It was just like we rehearsed. Calm. Cool. In charge. Unfortunately, because we had chosen the metro stop slightly closer to our apartment, and perhaps because of our ignorance, we ended up walking about 3 or 4 blocks underground in sweltering heat to get to the L3 spot we needed. Those were blocks that would have better been walked outside, in the cool of the day. Well, at least the shade and breeze of the day.

We encountered no further gaffs in our plan, and proceeded to the Vallcarca stop without mishap. We were happy to gulp fresh air again above ground, and it was very easy (yes, even for the Trepids) to find our walking way to Park Guell. (Basically follow everyone else who just got off the metro.) So was it easily navigated? Definitely. Was it easily traversed? Well let me just say this, it gives San Francisco a run for its money.

We were very thankful for the series of upward escalators that began after we had already trudged uphill for some time. But we felt virtuous as we climbed, knowing those hard boiled eggs were burning off rapidly.

This route took us to (almost) the top of the park for some stunning views of the city.

We came across a “T” in the path. Which way to go? You know, two roads diverged and all that…we couldn’t tell which one was the lesser travelled, but it would have made a difference later in the day. Right took us to the main area of the park. Left would take us to the highest look off of the park up by the cross. We chose to go right. Of course, later, when we were at the absolute bottom of the park, Cubby decided (and he doesn’t ask much, our Cubby) that we needed to be at the cross to see over the city. Of course. Back up we went. Definitely deserving a good lunch by now, having certainly burned off the eggs. And the Nutella.

Honestly though, it was a great time there in the park. We had tickets for the Gaudi house museum that had been part of a combo ticket purchased online ahead of time with the Sagrada Familia, and had an assigned time we could go there, followed by a later assigned time to enter the Monument area of the park. Buying tickets ahead of time is great, but the spontaneity factor goes out the window when you have to plan all the times and hope for the best with weather and whims. However, we were VERY glad to be doing the park in the morning because it was plenty hot then, and a little less people. Apparently not everyone reads the helpful information on these boards, because there were oodles of people coming through the gates by the time we were ready to leave!

We toured the Gaudi Casa museum and relished (must have been hungry, all my words are beginning to remind me of food) getting to know a little more about the man, his unassuming manor (much like Mr. MacGeever), his Spartan lifestyle (much like moi – note the casual use of the French terminology I have thrown in there) and his unique style (no comment).

I am no horticulturalist, so I can’t name plants, but I loved them all in the gardens surrounding the house. All through our trip I kept seeing the little blue clusters of flowers that were my favourite…..feel free to enlighten me if you know what they are. Even if you don’t know what they are but would like to offer an imaginative suitable name for them I’ll accept that as well. Ohhhhhh….and the Mediterranean Pine trees – Umbrella trees – loved them too.