We made the hurried and frantic escape from Norway onto the cheap RyanAir flight to London. I admit, I began to feel the difference between traveling solo and having to consider another body in my plans. I suppose, looking back, I feel that this has grown me. Ultimately what may seem difficult on the surface, is usually designed to teach a lesson…or two.
I was both overjoyed and relieved to see Sonya and Ben saunter up to us at the airport. My longest friend in the world who I had lost to England years ago, remains a steady source of comfort to me. In the meantime, she had spawned a child who is arguably one of the cuter in his variety. Little Ben and Big Ben played in the backseat while we made the 3 hour drive back to Andover, where we would be staying for the next few days. What kind of friend would drive three hours each way with a two year old to fetch her girlfriend from the airport? Sonya, who I claimed was my sister all through high school. People still ask me how my sister is…I always have to ask, which one.
Something inside me felt warm and reaffirming as I watched the green countryside pass us by. Sonya and I chattered on non-stop, picking up as if not a moment had passed since our last meeting. In reality, it had been years. You’d never know it.
After a delicious and filling falafel feast, I was ready for an early night. As home as I had felt in Norway with Kat, I felt doubly as much now. Sonya is like family to me and I missed her terribly. I have to say though, when your best friend has a little baby, it is a strange admission. Suddenly, there is this little prototype of one of your favorite people in the world. I had an instant love for this little young man, who could capture the heart of anyone, I am sure. I generally don’t like kids as I find them somewhat distracting and tedious, but this one had me questioning that line of thought.
When I discovered the Welcome Home Auntie Carmella sign posted in my room, I realized that I had had this feeling before. My sisters kids, Nubian and Khaalid, induce such a deep level of protective adoration as now. Kids are cute. At least my sisters ones are.
One day I decided to go visit the Royal Palace where the king and queen (who are apparently quite personable and friendly) reside. I was just in time for the changing of the guards which was a lot less crowded than the one in England. It was pretty cool but not much unlike the whole process that happens in all the other countries. I think once you’ve seen one, you’ve seen them all.
One of my highlights of Olso was my visit to Vigeland Park. Covering 80 acres and featuring 212 bronze and granite sculptures, we certainly had our work cut out for us. The park is divided into six sections: The Main Gate, The Bridge, The Children’s Playground, The Fountain, The Monolith Plateau and the Wheel of Life. I personally liked best The Bridge which showcases nicely the “human condition”.
I took a million pictures here and I still don’t think I took enough. Kat told me it was a statue park but I was not prepared for the level of emotion conveyed by them. Who knew that a large hunk of rock or metal could evoke such depth of emotions in me?
A certain favorite is “Sinnataggen”, the little Angry Boy on the bridge. I could understand that…he was pretty cute and reminded me of that cheeky dancing baby in the Ally McBeal series.
But one of my personal favorites was the little old woman nestled between the two younger, more robust women. Though many may have thought her to look squished and frail, I experienced something quite different. In her sunken eyes and toothless grin, I felt pure happiness, something no one could touch. It came from within. I could almost hear her chuckle at finding the secret to life that the rest of us seem to be in endless search of.
It was nice to be able to slow down and live a somewhat local life rather than be the traveling tourist. The sun ended up coming out periodically which made for some lovely walks. I was amazed at the vivid blooms gracing peoples gardens as I strolled down to the market. The parks and every green space was packed with Osloians taking in the sun and doing a whole lot of nothing. It was refreshing to visit a country where people know the importance of leisure.
After doing some shopping at the foreign markets, where Kat said I would find the best deals, I ventured further into the center. By chance I came upon a hippy peace type gathering from which some ear-catching tunes were wafting. I was drawn in by the music but was kept by the atmosphere of gentle acceptance. There were free trade organic treats for us to snack on as we watched the unique fashion show that was taking place before us. The stunning young and younger ladies sashayed by playfully in their flowing costumes. It was all I could do not to get up and dance along with them.
When we arrived into Norway, it was raining. All I could think about was how cold it was and how surely it would warm up. Lucky, I was wearing a rain jacket but that alone didn’t protect me. It was the fact that I had to trawl my rolling suitcase up and around and through the cobblestone steep Olso streets. Kat said it was only a 10 minute walk but after about 22 minutes, I realized that maybe her sense of time has been skewed. Possibly her year here studying had dampened her internal clock. Who can know for sure. But if I may have been chilly that was quickly remedied by the sweat that was forming on my brow. Clackity clack clack rumbled my luggage as I tried my best to keep it from tipping over. Why don’t they put those giant wheels that so many baby hummers have these days? That would be sweet. And functional.
After snaking through a humongous graveyard shortcut, we finally arrived at Kats residence. It seemed to be at the very top of Norway and I was pretty proud of myself for climbing the mountain. It was neat to meet the many different cultures who surrounded her room. She described them all in very colorful terms except for the one guy who she didn’t even want to name. Apparently all her floormates were tolerable, even delightful at times, save for this unfine young man. Curiously, he was the one I craved to meet the most.
I ended up sleeping quite a bit now that I felt at “home” and comfortable. Even though it wasn’t my home, it was someone’s home and she had decorated it with her personal effects in a very charming way. It made it comfy and cozy inside even though the weather was gloomy out the window. I did spend some time perched by her window admiring her spectacular view of the town.
Later we took a trip to the grocery store, which is for me a definite highlight of any new place. I took in all the strange and fascinating choices including the bizarre selection of cheeses and cereals. Those are always a good indicator of how a country is run. If they value their variety, then they can be considered for a return visit, in my books.
It was so cold in Norway, I did what ever I could to warm up. Haven’t spun fire in a really long time but it was nice to remember why I loved it so much. Thanks for the push Kat!
In the late afternoon, I decided to head to the Anne Frank House. The line up only lasted a few minutes which left me plenty of time to go through it. I had been here before years ago in 2002 but for some reason, now it was different. I didn’t get the same heavy feeling as it seemed to be more touristy, more forced. Perhaps this type of experience will only have that strong shocking effect in the initial go-round.
Similar to last time, I thoroughly enjoyed the interactive Free2Choose exhibit at the end. The provocative questions were designed to illicit strong feelings on controversial issues such as right to privacy, discrimination, freedom of speech, and other ethical hotspots.
On the way back through town, I passed by a few of the infamous red lit windows Amsterdam is known for. Slightly uncomfortable I quickened my pace as I stole a glance at who was for sale. I made eye contact for just a second as a blond forty-something shot me an gentle yet inquisitive smile. With her shoulder length bob and freshly made up facade, I couldn’t shake the knowing that this was someones daughter, sister and perhaps (most likely) someones mother parading around as flesh for rent. I smiled back mustering up as much compassion as I could offer with my limited understanding of prostitution. Long after I looked away, her solicitous eyes burned in my mind.
There was something dreadfully unnatural about these women and the air around them reeked of slavery. Many of the scantily clad bodies appeared to be self medicating in one form or another. Some took the effort to smile seductively and even made it look like they were having fun, dancing and laughing. But you could see that if they didn’t get the response they wanted their face flipped to something more sordid.
I wondered what it would be like to be shut up in a small dark box. Both Anne Frank and the red light district sellers evoked powerful yet confusing feelings with regard to freedom and human rights. I suppose I just don’t perceive much respect or positive healthy feelings when it comes to the sex trade. The wind picked up as I scampered back to the ship for dinner and ended up staying in for the night.
Monday morning we docked in Amsterdam and I was relatively eager to get out and explore. I still felt my energy lagging but I was able to gather myself up before noon. I was pleased that the ship was a 10 minute walk to Central Station which was in close proximity to everything else.
It took a little while for me to pull back up to speed with my dodging techniques. Two trams, three bikes, and several cars later, I remembered that this was the city that tries to runneth me over. Oh yes…it’s Frogger time once again.
Dam Square was filled with police and fence barricades rather than street performers and buskers so it wasn’t very interesting. I found out that they were setting up for the queen to come and present flowers for the remembrance day later that evening. I sat under the clock watching people feed the aggressive pigeons which would perch right on their outstretched arms.
Next I wandered up and down the way into the fairy store which I discovered years ago. It was still just as magical and mystical as I remembered it. Little trolls and elves peeked out from behind the trunk of the giant tree. Whimsical giant orbs hovered over my head while I perused the collection of jewels and gems for sale.
I strolled down the flower market and peeked my head into a few souvenir stores. Nothing really caught my eyes except the wall full of clog shaped slippers in every color of the rainbow. I was given an orange pair of these from a Dutch friend in Canada. Somehow that made them more special.
I felt sadness mixed with a tinge of smugness the night before all others were to depart. It was the end of a two week journey for most who were debarking in Harwich, England. Luckily, I had the foresight to book the extra four days up through Amsterdam into Oslo. It was nice not to have to get off as I wasn’t quite ready to leave yet, as one never is at the end of a holiday.
It was hard to say goodbye to tablemates Tom and Lois who were great company. I had become quite fond of them and their mannerisms. By the end of two weeks, I realized I knew a lot about them, their kids, and their views on life. Plus they were able to track down a cherimoya which gives them extra points.
Our games group got together one last time and played Balderdash into the wee hours of the night. After several laughs, we hugged and promised to keep in touch. I was amused at how attached I had let myself get to these people.
The next morning, I slept right through the announcements which would corral everyone off the ship. I sleepily wandered to breakfast, then moved my room as they had directed. The crew were all in turnover mode rushing about to ready the ship for the next batch of cruisers. I overheard the cruise director congratulating the staff on the trans-atlantic passage. He gave informational stats and offer snippets of encourgement for the next segment. Evidently, the ship would be primarily Brits so I readied myself for the accents.
I spent the day taking advantage of the barren gym which I could pretend was all my own. I thought about climbing the rock wall again but no one was there to spot me. I snacked a bit which I discovered the newly renovated Windjammer finally open. This is the casual buffet area which had been closed for the last two weeks. It was a nice change to have somewhere new to explore.
I continued my adventure to one of the upper decks to sneak into some of the suites and balconies. I wanted to see what I was missing and if it seemed worth it. Standing outside in the bitter cold of England, I realized that it would be pretty much useless to have a balcony if you were on an itinerary which was too cold to appreciate it. This next leg would be one of those. Already it was chilly for me and we were only going more Northernly.
I wrapped myself up in my big wool sweater that makes me look like a polar bear of sorts and hunkered down. While I read in the lounge, I noticed the steady trickle of shiny new cruisers curiously making their way onboard. I wondered if I would connect with any of them in the short but sweet four days I had left on this part of my journey.
After dragging myself to the gym and performing my fitness ritual alone once again, I started to wonder about Shawn. Something was fishy and it wasn’t the smoked salmon. The word was that he was sick. Sick enough to quarantine him for days?
Overnight, they introduced hand disinfectant stations all over the ship. We were not just encouraged but it was demanded that we use them. Then a small army of cleaners with facemasks and gloves came through to deep clean of the facilities.
The gym was pretty dead as they provided no replacement so there were no classes or even a staff presence. Already a couple people had been hurt falling off machines and such. We thought it was irresponsible to just yank someone and not provide a substitute. A few of us gabbed between sets speculating what had happened to our beloved trainer from Australia. He has a lot of charisma and is big heart shines through his gruff commands to “work harder!” There was clearly something missing and it wasn’t just the music.
I admit, it was trying to get myself to go workout when there wasn’t anyone else to be accountable to. Over the next few days, people frequented the gym less and less. The few diehards left finally conspired to get to the bottom of the mystery of the missing fitness dude.
I made it my mission to do some serious detective work. Everyone loves a good mystery, if not scandal. After talking to many crew and passengers, I had narrowed it down to three possible theories.
1. Shawn has the Swine Flu. It just so happened that the Royal Caribbean issued a public warning to all passengers the morning Shawn went missing. The looming health crisis blasting all over the news and on notices all over the ship was putting a lot of people in fear mode. If anyone would contract it, it would be someone who would have had close physical contact with an infected. Someone like a fitness instructor.
2. Shawn burnt out and was taking time off. He had been conducting more than five classes a day and he was privately training the crew too. We all noticed he had developed a bit of a cough and was losing his voice. This was the story most crew recited when asked and seemed most likely.
3. Shawn got fired. There was a rumor that someone had seen him being escorted off the ship. If this is the case, it would lead into a whole world of new questions. Because it all happened so suddenly and those who should know seemed to be uncomfortable with any questioning, this seemed like a viable option.
Finally, one of the dancers spilled the beans and told me that the talented yet stubborn young Shawn had been forced to “resign”. He had in fact been escorted off the ship back in Spain as per Steiner‘s policy. Apparently, he had been pushing the boundaries for some time and some small protocol mishap had broken the camels back.
Working on a cruise ship seems not to be for everyone. I toyed with the idea for a while but the strict regimented routine would probably kill me. Surely it would stifle my creative growth. It seems there is not a lot of room to move, literally and figuratively. Why would I live in a self-imposed zoo?
There are those personality types that have trouble conforming and make it habit to question things. I was brought up to be one of those people. I have learned that things are not always as they seem. It feels strange for me to “fit in” as I never have. I used to contest authority as a habit but being in a constant state of struggle is exhausting. These days I choose my battles.
Sometimes, my natural instinct contradicts the norm or what is expected. I had a nightmare once that I was close to death and one moment revealed the nature of all my regrets. It was the worst feeling to think I had lived my whole life according to someone else‘s guidebook. I don’t think I could live with myself if I went against my gut and just followed blindly.
Still, there are some laws that make sense but then there are many that are outdated or just plain ridiculous. If there was a red light in the middle of nowhere and yours was the only car in sight, would you stop?
I guess there are three kinds of people in this world. Those who obey. Those who use their brains. And those who stop briefly until they realize how silly it is. Once they get past the initial fear of being “caught”, they creep through the light and spend the next five minutes questioning their morals.
Although I am never glad to hear of another’s misfortune, sometimes I can see its for the best. I was glad to hear that Shawn had left the ship. He has the type of character that will inspire many and his gift seems wasted in such a limited environment. The whole situation struck a uncomfortably familiar chord with me and I remember occurrences from my life in which I could relate. I suppose these examples are good motivation for me to make sure that I never fall back into that default pattern again.
The morning we docked in La Coruna, Spain I made sure to wake up early. I popped out of bed and peered through the drapes to see that the sun wasn’t even up yet. Haha! I beat the sun for once. I ran into some friends at breakfast and we all planned to spend the day together hiking to the lighthouse.
The air was brisk as we set out but the sun was beaming down from a clear blue sky. We ended up walking the perimeter of the town. On the way we past many interesting structures including an odd but futuristic looking control tower, a miniature version of Stonehedge, and monument of Hercules. We also took time out to play in the playground and meditate on sea wall as the waves crashed majestically below creating rock pools.
There were many runners, cyclists, and other fitness enthusiasts taking advantage of the summary weather. I noticed the Galician city is quite geared towards exercise with trails and tracks throughout. They even have a free bike program! Along with the trolley, it kind of reminded me a bit of San Francisco. I thought it would be pretty easy to stay in shape here.
When we finally made it to the Tower of Hercules Lighthouse, I was a slightly disappointed to see the entire thing covered in scaffolding. We decided to climb the 242 steps anyway if only to see the view from up top. It was quite picturesque with the rugged coastline jutting out into the sea. Along with the interesting mix of architecture, numerous fishing spots, and the beaches spotted through the city, I imagined that this would be a charming place to live. I noticed that there were quite a few places for rent and was a bit surprised when I found myself actually considering it for a second.
