Cruise Adventures: Hitting the Road and Breaking In

Like all good things, our cruise adventures had to come to an end. When we woke up on our last morning, we found ourselves back in San Pedro. There was nothing left to do but finish packing and deboard the ship. As we collected our luggage from the cruise terminal and jumped in a cab to take us to our car rental in Long Beach, I thought about the wave of emotions I experienced a week earlier. I was so homesick and nervous that I didn't think I could possibly endure a week long vacation outside of the country. Like always, I proved to myself that I am stronger than I think I am, and I even developed a love for a little slice of heaven I like to call Cabo San Lucas.

Being the smart people that we are, we chose to drive home instead of revisit the Metro and Amtrak. There was nothing scary about our ride home (like the Metro) and there were no unforeseen detours (like Amtrak) along the way. It was your typical drive from southern California to northern California, and that is just the way I like it. One thing did escape our minds, however. Neither one of us thought to coordinate with Nick's parents to be home when we arrived at their house to pick up our truck (that we left when Nick's mom drove us to Amtrak the day before our cruise departure). Normally, it wouldn't matter if they were home since we could just hop in the truck and go. It wasn't that simple this time, though. One thing I never mentioned is that we left our keys inside Nick's parent's house prior to heading for Amtrak. We didn't want to worry about losing them on the Mariner of the Seas, so leaving them there seemed like the safe thing to do.

As it turns out, our keys were safe. They were just trapped inside Nick's parent's house. You see, Nick's parents weren't home when we came back into town. No amount of calling Nick's parents or his brother, the other key holder, helped our situation. We were on our own, and that required some creative thinking... and some criminal behavior.

We discovered a window was left open, and it was the perfect size for me to crawl into. The inside landing wasn't quite as accommodating, but it allowed me to revisit my days as a gymnast when I was a wee little tyke. Needless to say, my handstand and summersault skills came in handy. Not only did I impress myself with my knack for breaking and entering, but I also earned a new respect from my husband.

Cruise Adventures: Day 7, September 5, 2009

Can you believe I have two days left to write about a cruise we took a year ago? I can.

We had big plans for the day before our return to the Port of Los Angeles. By big plans, I mean relaxing and pampering. That's what you're supposed to do on vacation, right? As if we hadn't had enough of it all week long, we managed to fit some in on day 7 as well. I'll just cut to the chase, though. We treated ourselves to Chops Steakhouse.

While there was a couples massage and some other stuff in between, everyone knows the way to my heart is with food. So, I'm not going to bother with the details of the massage or any of that other stuff. I'll just skip right to the meat and potatoes of it all (pun intended).

Our delicious menu consisted of the following:

• Appetizers - shrimp cocktail and Dungeness crab and shrimp cakes
• Entrees - filet mignon (me) and New York strip steak (Nick)
• Sides - grilled tomatoes, sauteed broccolini, and roasted potatoes with prosciutto and parmesean
• Dessert - chocolate mud pie and caramel apple crisp
• Drinks - bellini (me) and chivas (Nick)

And, yes, everything was as delicious as it sounds. Did I mention that I love to eat?

Cruise Adventures: Day 6, September 4, 2009

If there is a heaven on earth then it must go by the name Cabo San Lucas.

With as much fun as Nick and I had in Puerto Vallarta and Mazatlan, Cabo was, hands down, our favorite port. Now, this isn’t crazy married woman talk here. I know some women say things like, “we hate green beans,” “we love tuscan beige,” or “we don’t like cats.” But, when I say Cabo was our favorite I mean that if you ask Nick he’ll tell you that he has been longing for Cabo’s sunny skies, blue water, and sandy beaches ever since we sailed away from that little slice of heaven.

Cabo is a great place to do anything on the water. So, naturally, we tried our hands at a little power snorkeling. Power snorkeling is snorkeling on crack, essentially. Instead of strolling around under the water at a leisurely pace looking at this fish and at that fish, a motorized thingamabob propels you through the water at rocket speed. Eh, not really my style. In the end, I felt claustrophobic (surprise, surprise). I ditched the little bullet and I ditched my flippers… and I ditched my snorkel. But, I kept the mask on and went for a fabulous swim in the Pacific ocean. It was so fabulous that I hope everyone on the face of the earth gets to go for a blissful swim in the water off of Cabo. If everyone got to experience this heaven on earth then the world would be a happier, more peaceful place. I can assure you.

When our snorkeling adventure was over we grabbed a bite to eat. We each had naked tacos (one chicken, one fish) that we dressed with delicious goodness at the taco bar. We also had some heavenly chips, salsa, and guacamole. In hindsight, I wish I would have had a margarita, but such is the life of worrywart. After lunch we thumbed through the stores on the pier. Everyone will be happy and relieved to know that we found a ring in Cabo to replace Nick’s lost wedding ring.

With new ring in tow, we hitched a ride back to the Mariner on the tender. It was here that a woman graciously offered her son’s freshly caught, freshly fried tuna to everyone on the assumption that she would not be allowed to take in on the ship. Being the kind souls that we are we helped her get rid of her fish fantastico which made for a great end to a great day in Cabo.

Cruise Adventures: Day 5, September 3, 2009

When we wake up on Thursday we find that we are in Mazatlan. Mazatlan is located on Mexico’s gold coast and is the home to Pacifico beer.

Or should I say cerveza? In any case, Mazatlan is also home to Huana Coa which is where we entertained our carefree, uninhibited sides on our canopy adventure. When we arrived, we were outfitted with some attractive harness equipment including helmets and gloves. We were also warned to douse ourselves in bug repellent, but Nick and I hadn’t brought any so we were SOL.

Yes, this is a truly hideous picture. Of me. Not Nick

After we got our cute suits on we hopped aboard a Swiss All Terrain Vehicle (ATV) which took us into the Sierra Madre mountains. The ATV ride was enough adventure to satisfy me for the rest of my life. Our guides drove us up some steep inclines with nary a seatbelt and a busted rear door that had all of the passengers holding onto their fellow zip-liners for dear life. If you’ve been on the Indiana Jones ride at Disneyland then you know what I’m talking about (except, there were no giant Pooh Bears in this neck of the woods).

After the horrifying ride up the mountain, we were instructed on how to safely maneuver down the zip lines. It was here we learned not to grab the zip lines or else we would rip our arms out of their sockets. It was also here that I tried to figure out the best way to break it to Nick that I would not be joining him on the journey down nine zip lines, two “nature” walks, a suspension bridge, and a vertical drop. The speech I had silently prepared in my head, however, never quite panned out. In my frenzied, panicked state, I remembered that the only way to get back down to Huana Coa’s facilities was to take the ATV; hence, I did not chicken out like I would have liked to. (I’ll have everyone know that one woman did, in fact, opt for the ground instead of the sky and made her way back down the hill via the death contraption).

As we stood in line, I was shakin’ in my Pumas and sweating in my heavy duty, industrial type gloves. And, of course, I had some serious butterflies flapping away in the pit on my stomach. But, as I descended down the first zip line a sense of strange calmness washed over me. Yes, dangling from wire 5,000 feet (that's a lie) up in the air was strangely relaxing. And fun. And breathtaking.

After completing the canopy adventure, our next stop was the Los Osuna Blue Agave distillery. This little field trip was an f-ing bore (snore), so I'll spare you the details. But, I will mention that Nick scored a few yummy shots of blue agave while I watched so as not to add dehydration to my list of worries. Also, a vendor at the distillery tried to sell us a fake Louis Vuitton ring to replace Nick's wedding ring. Surprisingly, Nick did not want to rock a ghettofied ring with a big "LV" on it. I don't know why, but it is really Nick's loss then, isn't it?

On our way back to the ship, we fit in a little shopping and managed to snap some photos with some giant frogs. All in all, Mazatlan was muy bien.

Cruise Adventures: Day 4, September 2, 2009

Because of Hurricane Jimena’s weasly antics, we arrived in Puerto Vallarta in the late morning. This gave me plenty of time to wake up, feel seasick, feel homesick, and have anxiety about roaming around in a foreign country. Nonetheless, it was dolphin day. As much as I was ready to throw in the towel and book the first flight home, I had to fulfill my couple-of-years dream of swimming with dolphins. Besides, who am I fooling? I’m deathly afraid of flying.

As soon as the Mariner of the Seas was safely docked, we left the ship and set foot on Mexican soil. While we waited for our excursion to begin, we quickly roamed around the outdoor market. When I say quickly, I mean lightening speed. The merchants were super aggressive and nothing makes me more cranky than pushy salespeople (ok, so being tired AND hungry turns me into a complete monster, but I digress). You know the ones who can't take a polite, "no thank you," "no thanks," or "seriously, did you not just hear me say no" for an answer? It turns out that agressive sales tactics aren't just limited to mall kiosks in Roseville. After our jaunt around the shops we waited in the humid Puerto Vallarta air and people watched. Soon after, we were whisked away to Aquaventuras Park for our dolphin swim experience.

Upon arrival we had a brief lesson about dolphins and a quick overview about the facility and our adventure. They didn’t leave us in suspense for too long and seeing those beautiful creatures made me glad that I’m a sissy about flying. Had we left we never would have met those sweet little pieces of pumpkin pie:

We were allowed to pet the dolphins, feed them, and swim with them. We were also able to take pictures with them for the bargain price of $ 50 a pop. The icing on the cake, however, was that we were lucky enough to get to do the belly swim with them. The dolphins selflessly rolled onto their backs and carried us around the pool on their bellies. Human belly to dolphin belly. What can I say? It was love at first sight.

Cruise Adventures: Day 3, September 1, 2009

Remember the hurricane that we heard about when we were checking in on Day 1? You know, the hurricane that was supposed to be in Cabo San Lucas today? Luckily, since we were also supposed to be in Cabo, the Captain decided to re-route the trip. Instead of beginning our excursions in Cabo, we are heading straight for Puerto Vallarta and will make our way back up the coast of Mexico to Mazatlan with Cabo as our final destination. By doing this, it will put us behind the storm instead of in the center of it.

This sounds like a good plan until you think about cruising in Hurricane Jimena's aftermath. We wake up and feel the boat rocking. Back and forth. Back and forth. All. Day. Long. Nick doesn't really feel a thing, but I do. A lot of our fellow travelers do too, however.

The ship is a ghost town, but the staff has strategically placed barf bags around the ship for those brave enough to weather the storm (pun intended). Needless to say, I decide to stay in the cabin most of the day which, come to find out, is exactly what you are NOT supposed to do when you are sea sick. You are supposed to move around. You are supposed to get fresh air. You are supposed to stare off into the horizon. Surprisingly, none of these things come to mind when you have motion sickness. Instead, I opt for some cool acupuncture-like bracelets.

Cool acupuncture-like bracelets that do nothing to curb motion sickness...

Cruise Adventures: Day 2, August 31, 2009

Nick and I wake up on our first morning on the Mariner of the Seas and think that there is no better way to start the day than to go work out. We head on over to the fitness center and grab two stationary bicycles until elliptical machines open up. I know it is hard to believe that so many people would want to exercise while they’re on vacation, but there are a lot of crazy people in this world. Nonetheless, the gym is packed!

After our lame workout (using elliptical machine while on a cruise ship = interesting in a not-so-fun way) we slather ourselves with soap and hand sanitizer and trek to the opposite end of the boat to the Windjammer Café for breakfast. Homesickness and anxiety start to set in again as I realize that I am floating out in the middle of nowhere. It always hits while I am eating for some reason! Eating, I have found, gives me too much time to think and worry. While I am sampling every breakfast food available on the boat, I try to shut my brain off and plan what we are going to do today.

We decide to hang out at the pool for a while and relax. Sun and relaxation are good for homesickness and anxiety. I forget my worries and read Look Me in the Eye: My Life with Asperger’s by John Elder Robison (my September read). Reading poses a little bit of difficulty although I manage to get through a chapter or two. There is just too much people watching to be done… not to mention the belly flop competition and the line dancing class on the pool deck. It’s hot and I down five waters while Nick indulges in a Bass Ale, a Corona (when in Rome), and a margarita. After several hours we go back to the room to relax after relaxing.

When I say relax, I mean relax. We are good at it when we are forced to. Nick and I order room service and watch Surf’s Up (which is an awesome movie, by the way, and I’m not being sarcastic). We debate about what to do tonight. Tonight is formal night and since we are both non-conformists we shower and change into our non-formal clothes and dine at, you guessed it, the Windjammer Café.

After dinner we check out the casino and I watch Nick work his magic on the slot machines. Only there is no magic, so I show him how it’s done. Tink, tink, tink, tink (nothing but the real deal slot machines on the Royal Caribbean)… I win $ 135! I walk away after hitting the jackpot and we head on over to the Lotus Lounge for Name that Tune. On the way over, we stop to get drinks. I want a Vanilla Latte because I need a serious caffeine boost. Instead of ordering what I really want, I get some god-awful coffee concoction with whisky in it (when in Rome). Ugh. I take a couple of sips and that is all I can bear. Lesson learned.

Cruise Adventures: Day 1, August 30, 2009

I wake up Sunday morning and the gravity of Plan B hits me. I brush my teeth and it’s all I can think about. We were so stupid. We had so much luggage. Someone could have hurt Nick. Someone could have killed Nick. I nearly start throwing up in the bathroom sink. I start crying. I don’t feel good. What were we thinking? Why were we so stupid? Anxiety sets in. Homesickness sets in. I could tell that this was not going to be pretty.

I have been known to experience, what I like to call, traveler’s anxiety. It is hard to articulate what this is, how it feels, or what causes it. Flying is normally an obvious trigger for me, but clearly airports and planes were not in the equation here. I suppose it is the fear of the unknown coupled with a desire to be able to plan for and control worst-case-scenarios. For example, I like to know that if Nick or I need medical attention we can seek help easily. Would we be able to do this on the ship? In Mexico? What if there is a typhoon? What if the ship capsizes? You know, worrying about practical things like envisioning Titanic-like catastrophes. Certainly, there are far more factors that elicit this overwhelming anxiety, but a topic of this nature would be better left for an anthology rather than a blog post.

Nonetheless, I am upset. I order a fruit bowl from Crème de la Crepe for breakfast. A fruit bowl of all things. For breakfast. My favorite meal of the day, but it doesn’t matter because I know I won’t be able to eat. My sweet little fruit bowl goes almost untouched. Every bite is forced and every bite is painful. I quit trying. Ugh. Why am I so weird? I am sure Nick is wondering the same thing.

Soon, our green Prius taxi arrives. No more metro traveling for either of us. Not in southern California, anyways. I guess we are too spoiled by BART. Our taxi driver helps to keep my mind off of things. Kind of. I let it slip that we took the metro the night before. “Through south central L.A.?” he asks. We say yes and he asks if we have ever heard of Compton before. He asks if we have ever heard of Snoop Dogg before. He asks is we have ever heard of “the LBC.” I consider his questions and catch his drift. Yes, we’ve heard of Compton, Snoop Dogg, and “the LBC” before, and yes, we should have known better. I laugh it off and quickly change the subject. “So, how do you like your Prius?”

We arrive at the Port of Los Angeles in San Pedro. Our ship is huge and there are already tons of people. People are spilling out of taxis, cars, and buses and everyone has an over abundance of luggage. Seeing the mountains of luggage, I don’t feel so bad for bringing 2 suitcases, a duffel bag, a backpack, and a giant purse. We kindly tip the porter $20, as recommended by our knowledgeable taxi driver, to ensure that our luggage gets top priority. I am not quite convinced that our luggage will get any special treatment, but what do we know at this point?

While we are at the registration desk declaring that we are, as far as we know, free from the H1N1 virus, the lady next to me voices her disappointment about the hurricane that will be in Cabo on Tuesday. The day that we will be in Cabo. The hurricane? I ask, “there’s going to be a hurricane?” This does not help to ease my traveler’s anxiety. Despite this, checking in is smooth sailing (pun intended) and we happily scurry to deck 4 to have our pictures taken and enter the ship that we will call home for the next week.

in fact

Enter ship, cue hallelujah music. We soak it all in. This thing is like a town, a shopping mall, a country even. There are floors upon floors of shopping, entertainment, food, and places to relax. Unable to enter our room, we have a couple of hours to wonder around the Mariner of the Seas. We walk around the promenade, the pool deck, and the casino. We peak inside the various bars, lounges, and theatres. It’s like nothing we’ve ever seen before and I have to admit, it’s pretty darn cool.

So cool, in fact, that I forget about my anxiety and homesickness and work up an appetite. We mosey on over to the Windjammer Café where I eat a ham sandwich, macaroni and cheese, french fries, and mashed potatoes. Still full from his breakfast, Nick watches me eat. We resume our sightseeing until 1PM and then head up to our room on the 6^th floor. Cabin 6640. Home Sweet Home.

We do a little unpacking and watch the underwater welder get outfitted with scuba gear outside of our balcony until Nick decides that he is hungry. We head back over to the Windjammer and Nick feeds me a glorious cheeseburger. Apparently, I have a lot of catching up to do since I haven’t eaten much in the past day and a half.

At 5PM it’s up to the pool deck on the 11^th floor to say bon voyage to San Pedro. The captain (or the cruise director) reminds us that it is the departure that sets the tone for the whole trip (or something like that), so Nick and I celebrate with margaritas (regular for him, pomegranate for me).

We watch all of the people around us and as we pull away from the port we enjoy the scenery and think about how lucky we are... except for the whole hurricane thing...

Cruise Adventures: Bling Bling

I leave the front desk mid check-in and head towards Nick. "What is it? What's wrong?" I ask.

"My ring," he nearly whispers, "I can't find my ring. It's not in my pocket anymore."

"Ugh. That's it?!? You scared the crap out of me!" I say and walk back to the front desk to finish checking in.

When Nick and I get up to the room I tell him that it is ok. It's just a ring. It can be replaced. The important thing is that we're ok. It's a wedding ring, yes, but we can get another ring and it will mean the same thing. We made it through a metro ride through South Central L.A.... at night... with 2 suitcases, a duffel bag, a backpack, and a giant purse... dressed head to toe in blue. We had each other and that was all we needed.

This begs the question: what happened to the ring?

As we see it, 1 of 2 things happened: (1) Nick accidently gave it to the panhandler with the Sacagawea coins when we were transferring at the 7th Street/Metro Center station or (2) It fell out of Nick's pocket when he sat down halfway through the metro ride to Long Beach.

Either way, someone is now walking around Compton with a new gold tooth or sawed-off shotgun thanks to us and the friendly Compton pawn shop he took the ring to.

R.I.P. Man Ring, R.I.P.

Cruise Adventures: Plan B, Part II - The Saga Continues

After we made our decision to go with Plan B, we head off to buy our metro tickets. Tucked away in a remote corner of a lower level in Union Station we find the ticket machine and insert a $ 20 bill. The machine spews out $ 17 in Sacagawea coins. It sounds like we are hitting the jackpot. Tink, tink, tink, tink… I turn around and see a panhandler heading directly for us.

“Do you have any change you can spare?” he asks. Of course we do. He saw us winning the metro lottery. We can’t lie. Nick gives him a few of our glorious Sacagawea coins.

We jump on the first of the two trains we have to take to get to the LBC. Nick and I, with 2 suitcases, a duffle bag, a backpack, and a giant purse, hold up our post in the train. I take off my rings, look at Nick, and hold them up for him to see. Without saying anything, I slide them into the pocket of my jeans. Nick follows suit. Yes, it’s true, in less than one year of marriage we have mastered the fine art of telepathic communication and spousal sign language. It didn’t matter, though, since the train was relatively unoccupied and we only had a few stops before transferring at 7th street/Metro Center. Nonetheless, I knew this would save us from being stabbed for our bling during the second half of our metro trip.

Leaving the first train unscathed gave me a false sense of hope. I think maybe Plan B isn’t so bad after all. As we make our way to the final train, someone stops Nick and asks for money. It’s the same man as before. No joke. Same guy. He knows Nick has a pocket full of change. So, Nick, with his bleeding heart, gives the man a few more Sacagaweas. Not satisfied with the nearly $ 5 Nick has already given him that night, he asks for more.

Our Last Two Sacagaweas

Without forfeiting more money, we proceed to find the train that will take us to our hotel in Long Beach… the hotel that holds the pillows that will rest our heads after a long, long day of traveling. We couldn’t wait.

As we journey through the metro station I notice that there are less and less people around. It’s quiet. You can hear a pin drop. Or a Sacagawea coin. I start to get nervous. We see the train across the tracks and calculate our next steps. As we wind our way to the train we pass by a police man… or a security guard. He confirms to Nick that the train we are headed towards is, in fact, the train to Long Beach and then, I am sure, silently chuckles to himself and calls us complete idiots.

I see the inside of the train before Nick does. “Here it is, Nick,” I say. Then I question is this really it? It’s packed. This can’t be it. The doors close before we get there. Yes, I think to myself, maybe that is a sign that we should just go back and catch the bus. The doors open.

We enter the train. It’s packed. Everyone is staring at us. And at our luggage. They are thinking we’re stupid. And we are. I am scared immediately. A man gets out of his seat and offers it to me. Wow, that was nice I think and then I thank him profusely so that we have an ally should gun fire or a hostage situation break out during our train ride. And then I spot a tattoo on his hand between his thumb and his index finger. Hmm… a gang tattoo… or a prison tattoo… or both? While I sit, Nick stands beside me for at least half of the ride. Did I mention that we have 2 suitcases, a duffle bag, a backpack, and a giant purse? And we are both dressed, head to toe, in blue.

It’s hard to articulate why this train ride was so scary. I am sure stereotyping plays a large part in this. Statistics do too, however. Compton is ranked 3rd in California for crime including murder, rape, robbery, aggravated assault, burglary, and motor vehicle theft (only to be outdone by Richmond and Oakland). Compton is ranked 17th in the United States... out of 365 cities... Honestly, the stats really speak for themselves. Not to mention, I was sitting there feeling like I was in Boyz N the Hood. Or Friday. Not so much Friday, though, since that’s a comedy and this train ride wasn’t so funny. A drama? Sure. A suspense/thriller/horror movie? Ok. But surely, this was not a comedy. And this train ride was long. 18 stops. I counted down every one of them. All Compton-esque. At one point, I want to cry. At another point, I want to get off of the train. Even in South Central L.A., I was ready to walk out at the next stop.

After a while, my gang-banger friend and his homies leave the train and Nick is able to sit down. And, after a while, more people start to exit the train than are getting on. As the train starts to empty (which doesn't really happen until maybe 2 stops before ours), I begin to feel safe. My heart slows down. I am able to breathe. I feel like we will make it. And we do.

We get off in downtown LBC and walk a couple of blocks to the hotel. As I am checking in at the front desk, I turn around to let out a sigh of relief to Nick. Only Nick isn’t smiling. On the contrary, he looks frightened. His face is as pale as a ghost's. I have never seen that look on Nick’s face before. Not even on our metro ride through Compton. Something is seriously wrong.