Images of Venice

There were a lot of street performers. What you can't tell from this picture is that the person is near nine feet tall.



Venice's architecture left nothing to be desired. A fascinating and perfect infusion of Islamic arches in the warm of Mediterranean color.






A three dimensional sculpture of Dali's Dripping Clocks:



There were tons of vendors selling the usual tourist wares, magnets, keychains, t-shirts, postcards, etc. They also sold masks:



Now on to the mildly crude.

Let no item be untouched by art, these are condoms:


And, finally, no man is complete without bikers shorts of David's crotch:



Ports since Venice: Katakolon, Santorini, Samos, Kusadasi, Istanbul, Athens.

Yesterday, I was on the phone with my mother as I walked to the Acropolis. My mother asked me where I was going next.
I answered, "Bulgaria, I think."
She said, "No really, where are you going next?"

Really, Bulgaria.

Cool: The feast of aesthetic pleasure in Venice, from architecture to amazing glass work. It is clear to see Chihuly's roots.
Stupid: The lack of pictures I took of the glass work and the tight narrow ally-like streets with bridges over the abrupt breaks of water between two buildings.

Happy New Contract and Dubrovnik

(Remember, a contract is your stint at sea.)

New contracts are like new years. They come with resolutions like lose weight, workout more, and for me, keep on my correspondence, which given I have been at sea a couple weeks and this is my first post… well…
I have returned to work and thus have been inundated with material.

The first thing to catch my eye did so at the airport in Zagreb, Croatia. I am washing my hands at a bathroom sink and looking at the stunning beauty in the mirror, when suddenly she morphed into an advertisement for Luftansia.
They have advertisements in the mirrors! It looks like a mirror, reflects like a mirror, and then suddenly tries to sell you a get-away to the Greek Isles! It was stunning; not my reflection, the surprise advertisement in its place.
Coming soon to a mirror near you.

So my contract started with my arrival in Dubrovnik, Croatia. I had a couple hours to see the city, and what an amazing treat.

Old town Dubrovnik is an ancient fortified city on the cliffs of the Adriatic, protected above by towering mountains. It reminded me remarkably of Jerusalem, the streets were lined with stones of the same large rectangle shape, though of a lighter white and shinier stone. The city was a couple large promenades and then a tangled maze of streets so narrow you could touch the opposing walls of the lining buildings at the same time. All sorts of shops could be found in little nooks.

Unfortunately, my jet-lagged photos did it no justice.

The city was very hilly so I took this picture from a high point of a narrow street overlooking part of the city.



This is outside the city walls. Unfortunately the only indication of size is the flag pole at the top. It is really quite big.



After seeing the sights and sleeping some jet-lag away, I joined my beautiful ship.

It is now like coming home and sort of like being the most popular kid in school. I walked through the hallways and everyone greeted me. “Welcome back!” “Hey! How was your vacation?” With a smile, “Gosh they let anyone on board now days….”

It was a relief to be back. I don’t really know how to explain it. I am happy here though. I mean traveling in lovely and I don’t know if I would do it without the traveling. But I truly love being part of such a small, good spirited, hard-working community.

I think I have joined a cult. Brain washing is complete when I start saying, “My pleasure,” which is used instead of “Sure.” (This is part of the corporate training. Yes, really.)

The one thing I have not done since my return is hang out at the o-bar. My beloved o-bar has been transformed from a dark, cozy pub into a loud obnoxious sports bar. Such is the way of life during the World Cup.

In a tight knit community of forty some odd nations, every night there are at least four people rooting for their opposing home teams. (There are two games a night.) The rivalries have fostered boisterous warm-hearted jibes and camaraderie in mutual enthusiasm.

FOOTBALL FOOTBALL FOOTBALL.

I can’t wait until it is over… and I can have my bar back,

Since Dubrovnik, I have been to Venice and Istanbul.

More entries to come…. eventually.

Stupid: Advertisements everywhere (including on your face) and World Cup Frenzy, every fricken night for weeks!!!!

Cool: I may not like the football, but I do like the good nature it breeds in my co-workers. (If only it did so all over the world.)

Very cool: The warmth and comfort of coming home to my shipmates and ship. I am so happy to be home.

Maximizing Profits

This is a list of prices of things onboard; I am sure you will appreciate the humor.

Chips $0.50
Candy Bar $1.00
Beer (any kind) $1.00
Gin and Tonic $1.00
Martini $1.00
Any alcoholic drink $1.00
Cigarettes $1.50
Premium Wine Glass $2.00
Cappuccino $2.15
Bottle of Finlanda Vodka $7
Excedrin Headache Medicine $7.75

A cappuccino is more expensive than any alcoholic drink, cause you know you will need one the next morning, and headache medicine is more than an entire bottle of vodka... cause you will definitely need that the next morning.

Random Pictures of the Entry:

Anthea riding the croc in the Brazil:


A submarine in Puerto Montt, Chile:


Cool: Kirsten and Chris Anderson's new baby boy Soren Patrick Anderson
Stupid: Lint, I mean, what is it good for anyway.

Didn’t I Run Into You In Russia?No Wait, Rome?Rio! It Was Rio.

When you live on a ship for long periods of time, there are unexpected alterations to the way your brain recognizes patterns.

For months and months at a time, you see the same people from first thing in the morning to last waking moment of night. Whether you see them at the mess or in the hallways, it is roughly the same 560 people, day in, day out, day after day. I don’t know everyone by name, not even half by name, but I know nearly all of them by sight and those I don’t know by sight still stand out ashore for other reasons (like a t-shirt from an obscure port visited half way around the world, but only a month before).

So whether I am in Buenos Aires or Ushuaia, I run into someone I know at the pharmacy, the pub or any major tourist attraction.

This provides many comforts. If I run short on cash, I know that in a few minutes I will run into someone who can lend me some money. If I need a translator, chances are I will run into a multilingual coworker soon. If I just want to chill out and enjoy the scene, I need only stop into the nearest bar and look for a friendly face. If there are no friendly faces, I can get a drink and wait. Some will show up, usually sooner than later.

The result is, no matter where I go in the world, I run into someone I know… St. Petersburg, to Rio… I always run into someone I know.

When you are voted off the island, evicted, thrown overboard… or some other phrase for vacation, you stop traveling with 560 friends.

When I left the ship, along with 11 of my shipmates, I was sitting in the Lisbon airport in their company. They were headed in all directions, Ireland, Russia, South Africa, Uruguay…

One of them pointed and said… “Hey, isn’t that…” He did finish the question. Of course it was not the shipmate he thought it was. We were the only ones traveling home that day.

But so accustom we had become to seeing someone we knew around every corner, that the mind simply assumed.

For weeks after I got off the ship, I have found this to be true.

Here I am in Santa Barbara and despite near certainty that Andrea is in Monte Carlo with the ship, the thought, “Hey there’s Andrea” popped into my mind with the glimpse of a girl here today.

This trick my mind plays on me, assuming I am recognizing people, is a bit odd. It emphasizes one of the unique charms of working on a ship. No matter where I go when I travel with the ship, I always know someone.

It is something I will miss immensely when I leave this lifestyle. Every city I go to, it like my hometown, with all the friendly faces and shared experiences, though none of the physical familiarity. I know I will travel one day in the distant future, and just find the entire experience lonely.

I find the experience lonely now. I am home. I can spend an entire day shopping and not run into a single person I know.

I look forward to going back home, to my other home, wherever that other home is.

Cool: Being at home with all its friendly faces everywhere in the world.
Stupid: Feeling lonely without those smiling faces.

Random Picture of the Entry:
It is common for ports to greet us with local culture. In the Caribbean there is often a steel drum group serenading our gangway. In Russia there is typically a brass band in old style Russian uniforms. In Brazil, we were greeted by these dancers:



(The background is the ship.)

Sex Over 60

I was at my friend Jen's parents' house a few days ago. I take her up on her offer to make me a cup of coffee, which I desperately needed.

She pulls out the canister of coffee, opens it and finds coffee grounds with a box of Cialis on top.

There were several things wrong with this, knowing her parents were having sex, knowing they were using Cialis to do it, and just generally keeping the Cialis in the coffee canister.

"When coffee isn't enough to get you all up on special morning... Cialis Coffee."

Actual Headline:
"STDs Running Rampant In Retirement Community; Doctor Blames Viagra"
http://www.local6.com/news/9283707/detail.html?taf=orlpn

Cool: Knowing I will have a sex life in my 60s
Not stupid but OW! My eyes!: Knowing people in there sixies currently have sex lives