Tuesday, April 12: At Sea

I love days at sea, free from a pre-planned schedule, a time of impulsive choice, or no choice at all. I chose the sunrise, as usual, but it was again rather ordinary, at least until the sun actually breached the sea in a blaze of red/orange, rising surprisingly quickly once it began and over within a minute or so. When I think about the world revolving, I always have the sensation that the sea is falling of its edge, like an infinity pool; it's easy to see how our ancient elders believed the world was flat and one could sail right off the edge.

The temperature, now in the 70's with a slight breeze, enticed me to breakfast outside on deck, which turned out to be a solityary one because Bill and Ted forgot to set their watches forward an hour. No matter. The poached eggs on toast were wonderful, perfectly cooked and served by Harlan and Joselitto who, like the waitresses at Jimmy's, now call me "Mr. Phil."

At another morning cooking demonstration - this one by the ship's Relais & Chateaux chef - Ted and I learned how to bone a rack of lamb and make a sauce from aromatic vegetables, lamb scraps (including the bones) and red wine. We also learned how to keep a lobster tail from curling, and how to saute it with baby aspargus. All this with a caviar croquette and champagne, and a couple, Jean and Dick, from Newport Beach who I discovered were on the first two legs of the Regent Voyager when I served as gentleman host on the last two legs. Small world.

Watching the mass of people jammed and scattered haphazardly around the pool is always fun. The middle-aged woman who fought with her floppy hat, trying to both see beyond its undulating rim and remain chicly hidden at the same time. She lost. The very elderly and wizened woman pushing her husband around the deck while he was seated on the Rolls Royce of walkers with regal, Aga Khan aplomb. the woman we named Chanel (after her huge quilted black bag with two C's) with the bad face lift and overblown lips. Bodies everywhere, basing in their oil in the bright sun, much like caramelizing the lamb bones for the morning's sauce. The three who always save their chaises with cute plastic clips shaped like flamingoes, holding their towels. The oriental couple with the day-glo bathing suits, a little too loud and very happy after their two Cosmos before 11 o'clock.

We won again at Bingo but failed mserably at Trivial Pursuit - who knows what sort of creature a jambalo is? - despite the lady from Palm Springs who hesitantly joined us, saying she wasn't competitive but then insisting that she knew the answers to everything. (Can you name the seven countries that border Turkey?) A nap, some of "Swan's Way," which I promised myself I'd wade through this trip, and this time, without bogging down. Dinner in the Italian restaurant with the very hot head waiter, Aldrin, from Bulgaria - his mother named him after Buzz Aldrin - and the night's show with our new friend Todd, the dancers and the singer. They were incredibly good. And I don't say that lightly. It wasn't just the margaritas talking.

I discovered that I've taken 20 pictures on my little camera without any memory card. I didn't know the camera could do that. So I'll have to get Aldrin to pose for me again. Forgive my errors in spelling and grammar. It's just too expensive to go back and correct them. On to Zihautenejo!

Stay tuned