Sunday, September 30, 2012: Shanghai

 Yes, we remained in Shanghai overnight. And when I woke up this morning there was a congratulatory note saying I had won the Silver Quiz from yesterday. (What’s My Line? Names of people and we had to list their profession. Who the hell was Etienne Brule? I guessed chef, but he was actually an explorer. But even with that answer wrong, I won. That was the only question I missed.)

The sunrise was every bit as beautiful as yesterday, rising over the path of the river and giving me great shots of reflections in the water. Dede and Bruce, who joined me on deck for breakfast, skipped today’s sunrise. Bruce joked that now that I have introduced Dede to sunrise photography, he never gets to sleep in in the morning. He said he’d return the favor once he thought of one.

Today’s tour was to the water town of Zhujiajiao, an old town built more than 1700 years ago and covering 18 square miles, packed with tourists, mostly Chinese. Today is the beginning a week-long holiday and also the anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic of China, in 1949, so there were crowds everywhere. Our guide explained that befor the days of television, people went outside and gathered in public places to celebrate, so this tradition has continued. Zhujiajiao was extremely crowded and it was hard to moveand very claustrophbic on the narrow streets. In order to keep our guide in view, I had to concentrate on where she was, and paid little attention to the many vendors lining both sides of the street. When we reached the end of our walk, which included an old apothecary shop and an ancient post offce, neither very interesting, we took sampans down the canal and back to our starting point. I was as usual, very tired and happy to get back to the bus.

Then to another traditional and delicious Chinese lunch complete with lazy Susan, many appetizers (most of them pickled but different from yesterday) and many courses that included all the meats: chicken, pork, beef and fish, with a great soup and spinach with water chestnuts. All very good, and so different from American Chinese food.

Following lunch, we visited a silk factory where we learned about (and were able to touch, if desired) silk worms, their life cycle – 30 days - their food – only mulberry leaves – and how their cocoons are spun into silk thread. Most interesting to me was that the factory makes silk duvets out of cocoons with two worms. They can’t find the beginning of the silk fiber so they stretch a batch of a cocoon over a bed frame, making many layers that ultimately become a duvet. With a cotton cover, these wereabout $110.00. I passed. After that (and like a leather factory I visited in Turkey), we had a fashion show by grim-faced Chinese models parading down a runway and were encouraged to visit the showroom where we could buy items made in silk. I tried to find a jacket large enough, and appropriate enough, to wear with my tuxedo pants but even XXXL size was not big enough. Chinese men are smaller, especially around! So it had be a few gifts and back to our ship. In all, another very long day.

I note that I’m complaining rather a lot about being tired. But in truth, I am. My travel agent warned me that this trip would be strenuous. And it is. Hard for new knees and a back recovering from two cracked vertabrae. Maybe she was right. I am feeling much older this time and have had to be helped up from sitting and off of boats by fellow travellers with kind attentions. I used to perform those same functions for others who were older than I am. Julie, who is 93 and my “buddy” for the day was much better able to manage, and she was wearing medium heels.

Shanghai, which we will leave this evening, is truly amazing – one skyscraper after another, all interesting if not the finest architecture I’ve seen. Scattered among the endless skyscraers are many apartment buildings that look great from the outside but Mary, who visited a freind in one, said you wouldn’t want to live in one. But then, she’s from Dallas. Buried among all this modernity, there are still a few buildings from the 30’s, the time of the French and British concessions.

I learned today that: a license for a car in Shanghai costs $10,000 American dollars, and that’s before the car – there are plenty of BMW’s and Mercedeses around – an apartment in Shanghai can cost upwards of $30,000 per square meter; Shanghai is the only city with two international airports; the Chinese language has over 50,000 characters and each has four tones, each with a different meaning; a single silk filament from a single cocoon can be as long as 100,000 feet.

This was dinner-on-deck night so the pool area was all set up with tables and chairs and an elaborate buffet. While waiting for dinner, Dede and I stood on the upper-most deck of the ship and took many pictures of the harbor, with all the buildings so dramatically lit up, and the passing dinner ships, all neon and blinking away. It makes Baltimore’s Christmas Parade of Boats very simple by comparison. The harbor area is truly amazing. And to think that all this was done since 1990, when before that, the Pudong area was farmland and rice paddies.

I had dinner with Julie, Mike and Chris (who thinks Obama is a Muslim), and a new couple, Rosanne and Steve, from Toronto. After dinner and the show (on deck, and not very good), we went to the Panorama Lounge where we all danced (including me) until we couldn’t stand any longer. It was much fun.

Stay tuned.

Saturday, September 29, 2012: Shanghai

(My Mom’s birthday; she would have been 104.)

We docked at 4 AM along an unpronouncable river in the heart of Shanghai but the sun rose right over the length of the river so I got great shots. Traffic on the river was heavy at 5 o’clock when I got on deck and when it was still dark outside, many little boats gliding silently by, big bugs on the dark water. I wondered where they were all going and what they were carrying.

Apparently true to others’ exeriences with Chinese officialdom, immigration procedures were changed several times but ultimately we had to go before hard-faced Chinese women officers and have our passports examined and stamped just like entering any other foreign country. The whole procedure added about 10 minutes and a long circuitous walk to going ashore.

My tour, called Highlights of Shanghai, was very long and I was very tired – a lot of walking and seemingly endless steps up and down. First we went to The Bund, an area along the river where many pre-1937 (because that’s the date of the beginning of the invasion by the Japanese0 buildings were erected, forming what was then the Wall Street of Shanghai. Now it’s mostlly a prominade along the riverfront with Shanghai’s incredible modern skyscrapers prominently obvious as a backdrop. We visited them, too, in the New Economic Zone, on Pudong Island, which before 1990 was only farm land and rice paddies. Now it’s one skyscraper after another, some great looking and some not – one building sports Ionic columns up 50 storeys – but all impressive and distinctive, one looking at its top like a giant bottle opener. Most unforgetable is the Oriental Pearl Radio and TV tower, oddly futuristic with mirrored magenta glass balls at several levels. It looks like something left over from the 1939 World’s Fair in New York, except updated and huge. We went up in a very fast, but very smooth, elevator, in the 88-storey Jin Mao building, the second tallest in China, where from the observation lounge all of Shanghai is spread dramatically out to the horizon, making it believable that the population here is 23 million. Very impressive, indeed. Baseball caps at the top cost $35.00. Despite wanting to add to my collection, I passed.

Lunch at the Jin Jang Hotel was a Chinese gourmet affair, many courses, with many Chinese delicacies served at round tables on huge glass lazy Susans. It was in this hotel, old but beautifully appointed, that the 1972 Sino-American joint communique was signed by Chairman Mao and President Nixon. Chopsticks again. The sticks of ginger and the peanuts were especially slippery and hard to control with any grace.

In the afternoon, we visited the old part of Shanghai including a very crowded market area where it was hard to keep up with our guide and we had been warned to guard our valuables from ever-present pickpoockets. There were no incidents, but I became a little claustrophobic pushing my way through such a huge crowd. It reminded me of the enormous press of people in the market square in Morocco. But the buildings provided many photo opportunities. The crowd continued into the 16th century Yan Yuan Garden, in the style of the Ming and Qing Dynasties, with huge walls of pitted stone,carved dragons, teahouses, pavilions and carp ponds. Again, many pictures.

Our day ended (finally; I was exhausted!) with a visit to the Jade Buddha Temple, founded in 1881 and, as usual, carved and painted everywhere. The main attraction, a 10 foot high statue of Lord Buddha carved from a single piece of white Burmese jade, was impressive, but no pictures, please. And the ubiquitous gift shops were in every area of the temple – up and down many steps, narrow for Asian feet.

I was so tired when we returned to the ship – immigration again, as though leaving China – that I had a vodka on the rocks (from the supply of Ketel One in my suite) and went right to bed – no shower, no shave, no dinner.

Stay tuned.

Friday, September 28, 2012: At Sea

Finally,a very lazy day, much needed to recover from two days of heavy sightseeing and before two more in Shanghai. I spent the day on deck by the pool, reading and napping, and talking to Ellen about the Silver Quiz; how it works, what it takes to win, what one wins. Altogether a very easy day.

In the evening, at the captain’s reception for members of the Venetian Society – every guest becomes a member after completion of their first cruise- Mr. Matsushita, from Japan, and I were publicly recognized for achieving saphire swtatus by traveling more than 100 nights on Silver Sea cruises, he at 105 nights and 103 for me. Angela Paznokaite, the Venetian Society hostess, invited us to join her for dinner where I had to concentrate really hard to understand her through her Lthuanian accent and him through his Japanese one. I tried to engage his wife in conversation but, I understand typical of Japanese wives, she was most retiring. Mr. Matshusita, a wine connesseur, ordered a very special red wine, earthy and dirty and delicious.

The show, the first I’ve seen aboard thisship, was all opera arias sung by three women, all sopranos, and three men, all tenors. One manhad the best voice of the three but it often got away from him; he hasn’t yet learned to control it. And Wendee, who loves my Crocs, was the best soprano. She should really beon a larger stage. And so to bed.

Stay tuned.

Catching Up; Several Days

Monday: September 24, 2012: At Sea

Ah, a clear day. And one can see forever? Well, not quite. But with the sea all around, it at least seems that way.

I was up early – for the sunrise at 6:45 and compulsive as I am, took many photographs. The clear day meant few clouds on the horizon so little sunrise configuration. But I decided that the occasion was beautiful in its simplicity, a quality of purity so often overlooked in our event-mad world.

I learned that the ship is less than half full, with only 154 guests – the ship holds 380 – so we have more crew per person even than the usual 1-1 ratio. The usual distribution applies: 64 Americans, 32 British and 12 Autralians, and a smattering of other nationalities. I asked Chester, our bartender (isn’t that interesting?), if when this condition exists, the company sends some of the staff home. His answer was yes; the company lowers the crew number, many going home. After Tianjin (Beijing), the ship is full, chartered by an American company (I later learned it was M Financial, whoever that is) for a cruise of 11 days, going anywhere the company wants so long as it ends up in Tokyo. I wonder how the company’s stockholders feel about that. At roughly $750.00 per person per day – well, you do the math. This smaller complement of passengers means no fighting for a chaise on deck and no waiting for a table in the half-empty dining room. It also means some decline in service – there are no waiters, for instance, outside the buffet to take your plate to your table. And a butler for our deck, but not a silent (if any) maid. These issues are hadly noticeable and where it counts, the line is still “the best in the world,” as they call themselves.

I had a nice conversation arouond the pool with Ellen and Sam, from Long Island. Well with Ellen anyway; Sam mostly took a nap. It is their first cruise with Silver Sea and Ellen was fascinated by my copy of the Silver Quiz. She helped with a couple of clues: 90=D in a RA (90 degrees in a right angle). Today’s quiz – I’m writing this on Tuesday – is in what city is each of the given structures located? Who knows about The Statue of Zeus?

It was formal night and so I squeezed myself into my tuxedo with all the appropriate accoutrements – studs, cuff links, cumberbund – and wore my red Crocs, which caused some, but not a lot ofcommentary from those who wished they could do that. Julie Cooley, the 93 year old lady still gong strong, wore red glasses with her simple black dress but was sporting a strand of huge pearls, wound around her neck, tied, and still reaching her waist. They were spectacular!

I met an Australian man in the bar, where we were waited on by Francis, another hold-over from my last cruise. The man was curious about American politics and asked several questons, the most interesting of which was about the “battleground” states. He wanted to know if these were those where there were battles in the American Civil War.

At dinner, alone. I had some foie gras, the champagne sorbet and a grilled lobster tail. Simple, and delicious. It’s not really possible to ask others to join you if you’re alone; it amounts to you asking to join them. But Tony and Kathie (from Manchester) were seated at a two-top right next to me so we had nice, if mostly mundane, dinner conversation. And again, early to bed. Even the ten o’clock show (of Motown songs) couldn’t tempt me into wearing my tuxedo a minute longer!

The computers are off this morning – something about not being on in Japanese or Korean territorial waters – so I’m writing this in tedious longhand, to be typed later, when the computers are on again. (It’s now Friday, and I’m just getting back on a computer!).

Stay tuned.

Tuesday, September 25, 2012: Kagoshima, Japan

A port city of about 1.2 million on the southern most island in Japan, Kagoshima is known as the home of the smallest friut (an orange) and the largest radish (a daicon). It’s main tourist attraction is Mt. Sakura, an active volcano that erupts, mildly, many times a day, which while releasing no lava, rumbles, and leaves a fine layer of ash everywhere. Industrious as they are, the Japanese don’t generally have janitors in businesses or schools so the workers and children have to do the cleaning every morning. In Kagoshima, this means washing one’s car every morning. Not fun, even for a car nut like me!

From my perch where I photographed the sunrise, again beautiful only in its simplicity, I could see the mountain of course but didn’t know the clouds hanging there were really ashes. But later, on our excursion called “Kagoshima Highlights,” where we actually visited the volcano, it was clear that the mist was actually fine ash and while I was photographing, I heard a distant, crashing rumble and caught in my picture the bubbling effect of the ash rising from the mountain. While Mt. Sakura has not had a major eruption since 1947, the island on which it stands has concrete shelters, like the entrance to a tunnel, scattered around for people to flee to for protection just in case. The observation point had many levels, all reached by ash-covered stairs – I counted over 100 to reach the best place for photogaphs, a considerable workout for new knees and recovering vertabrae. But the resultant record was worth the walk and climb.

The small island on which Mt. Sakura is located is reached by a fleet of small ferries that run 24 hours a day and the 15 minute ride permits time for photographs of the volcano and the city, from its upper deck. The day was warm and clear and, as usual, I took many photographs. Boarding the bus in the bowels of the ferry took me back to childhood where before the construction of the Bay Bridge, to reach the western shore of Maryland, we had to take the Matapeake Ferry to go to Baltimore from our home on the Eastern Shore.

Next was a visit to the ancient home and gardens of the Shimadzu family that ruled the southern part of Japan for many centuries. The house was in typical Japanese style, long and low, remeniscent of Frank Lloyd Wright’s prairie style. The gardens, perhaps a little dowdy now, were strung across the side of a great hill and although I was game, my back and knees prevented me from going to the top where it is said that some Lord Shimadzu liked to sit and watch the bay. At the ever-present souvenir center, I did buy a small glass animal for my collection, made in Kagoshima by their world-famous glassworks, and had a cone of sweet potato ice cream, a surprising lilac in color.

The bus on which we traveled to these sites was made for Japanese with short legs, as the spaces between the rows of seats were not friendly to my longer legs, and the man in the seat ahead of me insisted on moving the backof his seat as far back against my knees as possible. I have a large black bruise as evidence of that.

Our guide, ever vivacious and, as usual, hard for my aginge ears to hear, wore a tank top but covererd herself completely when off the bus – even up to gloves for her hands and a funny snood for her head – I presume to protect her from the ash as well as the sun. Japanese men place a high premium on pale skin. I’m sure little Coppertone is sold here. She began to flag as the tour came to an end and even sang an Okinawan folk song, accompanied by a tune on her I-pod, as a farewell to us all. Don’t ask!

Back on the ship, I had a quick lunch and a necessary nap. I also found an invitation to join Elena and Yvonne for dinner but after primping for my hostesses and being seated, first, at a table for four, Yvonne appeared to tell me that the invitation was for tomorrow. My watch can’t keep up with the time changes. It was very embarrassing. Yvonne could have saved me some embarrassment by asking me to join her anyway but she didn’t ,so I had dinner alone at a four-top.

With only a half-complement of guests, the ship feels strangely empty and with only half the usual staff, the service does suffer. The Terrace Cafe was really not prfepared for breakfast when it opened at 7:30 and I had to ask for cearm and sugar four times. Very unusual. But the service is still exemplary in most ways. I didn’t win the Siver Quiz but I did learn that all the Silver Sea ships are named for Rolls Royces.

Sitting alone at dinner, I had unlimited opportunity to observe other guests. At a table near me was an interesting Indian couple. Well, he wasn’t very interesting but she was. Dressed all in black, her hair so much the same shade that I couldn’t tell whereher hair stopped and her dress began, she looked like someone (or something) straight out of Anne Rice. Aside from the black, the only color was her red lipstick and the red of her talon-shaped nails, not bright red, but blood red. She never spoke to her husband and took the food from her fork without closing her lips around the tines, a little like dumping coal into a furnace, and to protect her lipstick.

Today I learned that most Japanese are a combination of Shinto and Bhuddist, the Shinto side is thehappy, celebratory side, while the Bhuddist side is reserved for more solemn occasions (like death and funerals).

Still no internet service so long as we are in Japanese territorial waters. It may be available late tomorrow night.

Stay tuned.

Wednesday, September 26, 2012: Nagasaki

Of course the unavoidable feature of Nagasaki is the dropping of the second atomic bomb here on August 9, 1945. The impact was less disastrous here – 120,000 died in Hiroshima and only (by comparison) 75,000 here – than in Hiroshima partly due to the topography. Nagasaki is a city built on a nuimber of hills around the harbor and many of them shielded some parts of the city from the blast. At dinner this evening – yes, with Yvonne and Elena – Julie of the magnificent pearls, complained that on her tour today there was great emphasis on the atomic bomb without any mention of Pearl Harbor. As a young girl, she actually watched the destruction on December 7, 1941. After all, she remarked, the Japanese were responsible for starting the whole thing.

Our first stop today was a museum of history and culture where we learned that the Portuguese came here early in the 17th century and started a tradition of trading with the Japanese. I took photographs of many of the artifacts from that period, including many beautiful screens, but it all began to run together and I sat out the last part because I was already beginning to tire.

The Peace Park, built near the site of ground zero, was much more interesting, a huge plaza with a giant bronze (now that beautiful green) statue of a seated man, one arm pointing up (for the bomb) and one pointing at right angles to his body (to symbolize a future of peace). On either side, at some distance away, are two shrines, alike, shaped like praying hands, open at the bottom and filled with colorful strings of folded origami cranes. The story is that a survivor of the blast was told by her family that she would live if she folded 1000 cranes – a symbol of life - and so now school children make long strings of cranes and hang them in the shrines. They’re very colorful and look something like boas, hanging from a pole, red and green and my favorite turquoise. At the opposite end of the plaza is a large fountain, the spray in the shape of two wings – to take flight – and around it many sculptures, often of a mother and child, donated by many countries of the world and all dedicated to peace.

Of the 1% of Christians in Japan, 12% of them live in Nagasaki where Christianity was introduced by missionaries who accompanied the early traders. There is a brick cathedral here – the Urakam Cathedral – first built in 1925 and restored after the war. We were allowed, briefly, to go inside where the stained glass windows are very modern, surrounded not by clear glass, but blue glass, which gives the interior a lovely blue glow similar to the blue glow in a chapel that replaces the Kaiser Wilhelm cathedral in Berlin. Since we weren’t allowed to photograh inside, I took some closeups of the outsideof the windows with very interesting results, all blurry and bright. The cathedral is slung on a steep hill and getting to it on a very steep incline was precarious for someone with artificial knees.

But this was not as challenging as the approach to the ropeway (a cable car) to the top of Mt. Inasa where all of Nagasaki could be seen, spread out below. The view was truly amazing and well worth the climb. The landscape was formed by ancient volcanic activity, rocks and lava flung into the sea and forming long fingers of land. Very impressive! The city looks so peaceful from here that it’s hard to imagine a bomb destroying the city on a calm summer morning over 60 years ago.

As we prepared to leave Nagasaki, a high school band of maybe 40 enthusiastic students, all dressed in their school uniforms, played Western music on the pier. As we pulled away, they unfurled a long banner that said, “Come back soon to Nagasaki.” Very sweet, and very good.

Elena and Yvonne had asked Julie and Nancy and Neville to also join them for dinner. We had lively conversation – Nancy’s husband, now gone, pioneered a procedure for Dyputrine’s Syndrome, a curling of the fingers, called the Gonzales Method. Neville, always loquacious, waved his hands in the air and although I couldn’t hear every word, I could follow the gist of his conversation by reading his hands.

We’ve now left Japan, with much seemingly unnecessary government procedure – passports and immigration forms – all very typical of Japanese efficiency. On to a resort island in South Korea.

Stay tuned.

Thursday, September 27, 2012: Jeju, South Korea

[The internet is still not connected so I’m again writing this in longhand – a pain in the fingers – with the hope that I can soon catch up. But I’m so far behind, it may take me one whole day at sea (tomorrow) to catch up. Patience please! And if I type all the missed days together, they will be out of order. But they’ll be there!]

Jeju (pronounced Jay-Joe) is a small island off the sourthern coast of South Korea. We docked at Jeju City, in the north, and spent most of the day in the Jungman Resort area, a popular honeymoon and convention spot about 40 kilometers away on the south coast. This is a kind of Disneyland for adults, with numerous attractions, including museums, restaurants and hotels and a convention center. Our first stop was at the Yeomiji Botanical Garden. At the center of what is thought to be Asia’s largest botanical garden, is an oddly-shaped building with a tower at the center of radiating fingers of glass that contain specific garden types: a flower garden with lots/masses of orchids and begonias; a water garden with broad pads and exotic water lilies; a tropical garden with fruits that grow there displayed in glass cases (the limes are yellow) and a cactus garden similar to one in Cabo San Lucas, although not as extensive. I should have had my long lens – left in the bus to lighten my load – in order to take what I call flower portraits. But I did the best I could with my wide angle lens. After wandering around the inside of the building, we took a Disney-like train around the outside of the building where there are more extensive gardens, even a formal French one, all geometric and primpted to a fare-thee-well. Again on foot, we crossed a typical oriental bridge, sloped steeply on each end and very difficult for keeping my balance, and then many steps down and back up to visit a waterfall. I passed, and while I was waiting, met Janet who lives in Silver Spring and commuted every day to teach management at Towson State College. Small world again. She was surprised that I lived so close, in Baltimore, and when the tour returned, introduced me to her husband, Lou.

Janet and Lou and Yvonne and I shared a table at lunch at the Seven Seaes (yes, spelled that way) Hotel, perched picturesquely on cliffs overlookingthe sea. Cellophane noodles with bowls of condiments – peanuts, squash, cucumbers, all pickled – and a Korean beef stew, a far cry from Julia Child but still delicious, flavored with ginger. I found I’m becoming quite proficient with chopsticks, the only implements presented.

Next, to the edge of the sea to view the pillared rock formations of Jusangeoilli, designated a cultured monument of Jeju Island. These rock pillars, like cubes or hexagons of various sizes, were formed from the lava flow from Mt. Hallasan, and spew water from the sea up to 33 feet high. Black rocks and white foam = many pictures, all taken from a boardwalk-like wooden walkway perched precarioujslly on the cliffs, 65 feet high.

The afternoon sights ended with the Yakcheonsa Bhuddist temple,a huge structure with one storey below ground and five above, all painted ith delicate geometric designs. I balked at the climb up many more steps but finally decided that not being here again – and having paid to see all of this – I should charge on. I’m very glad I did. The inside of the temple with three statues of Lord Bhudda, was outstanding.

There was the ever-present stop at the end of our tour for the necessary gift shop where I found a beautiful box for my collection, all mother of pearl and colored lacquer. In the process of my day, I learned: that the Korean language has only 41 characters made up solely of straight lines, circles and boxes/squares; that Jeju City of about 580,000 has no unemployment; that there is a scarcity of women so many come here from Japan, China or the Philippines to marry Korean men; that the island has plenty of oranges (one variety the size of a watermelon); lots of wind; and if you don’t remember how to say “good morning,” or “thank you” in Korean, you have only to bow and smile.

At cocktails, I was taling to Lee and John from San Luis Obisbo (a travel agent and her real estate developer husband) when Nancy Gonzales (of the Gonzales Method) asked me to join her for dinner. I was highly complimented. She’s very chic, although tonight somewhat in her cups, and talked on and on almost as though talking to herself. I just focussed on listening and smiled a lot. There wasn’t room to bow.

(And now, at last, I’m up to date.)

Stay tuned.

Sunday, September 23, 2012: Anchors Away!

I’m not unhappy to be leaving Tokyo. Although I’m grateful formy experiences here, the landscape begins to pale into many tall buildings, most of them indistinguishable from each other, silent sentinels maarching along in lock-step toward the horizon. This morning is re-packing, cramming in those shirts and socks and the toothpaste and shaving cream, hoping to get as much as possible into my big bag so that my carry-on, which I will have to carry to the ship, is as light as possible. It’s not an easy task. I always pack too much. But this time not enough casual pants. I’vde worn the same kakhis three days in a row because each day looked like rain –remember the umbrellas? – and I didn’t want to ruin any other, better, trouseers. So I’ll be very happy to get into different ones today.

At breakfast, I looked around to see if I could identify any fellow Silver Shadows. A distinguished 60 (or so) looking candidate was seated next to me, carrying in a heavy scent of expensive cologne, and wearing a Tom Ford-like several days growth of graying beard. Although our breakfast voucher, which came with our room, allowed only three selections, all with eggs, he insisted, in English, that he wanted cereal. Cornflakes, that ubiquitous symbol of American culture, came to him with cream and his tea. Wholesome, I thought, while I was devouring my eggs (orange) and bacon. And then came hot oatmeal. He looked puzzled for a moment and then ate it all, alternating between the two cereals. But then he quickly got up from his table, grabbed his expensive-looking leather briefcase and marched deliberately away. His breakfast voucher, presented to the waiter at the beginning of the meal was not the same color as mine so I ruled him out as a fellow traveler.

Across the room from me was another possibility, a handsome man of about 40, with very distinguised-looking graying hair. Ah, perhaps a candidate, although he, a stranger, wasn’t exactly tall and dark. But as he waited for his breakfast, he opened the three small containers of jams supplied to each table and tasted them by dipping the tip of his knife into them, one at a time, and then sucking the jam off the endof his knife. Not exactly my idea of polite table etiquette! And when his food came, he chewed with is mouth open – one negative snap for him! – but he got a positive snap by eating his bacon with a knife and fork, as I was struggling to do. He buttered all of his toast and chewed off hunks rather than breaking the toast into bite-sized pieces as Emily Post would have preferred. Was this just butch? Or was it gauche? Despite his good looks, I crossed him off my list.

Even though my mosquito bites had been graciously quiescent all of yesterday, they roared into itching life this morning accompanied by the usual marble-sized lumps. When I can resist their siren call no lnger, I always think that ifourbodies are meant to itch at such intrusions, then maybe we’re meant to scratch them. Any excuse to relive the pressure even if for only a moment. Now where did I cleverly hide that anti-itch cream in thishuge bag?

Having some extra time before thebus to the ship, I asked the internet lady in the hotel to help me post typed pages to my blog. This became, as previously explained, very complicated. After trying many other unsuccsessful options, we decided to scan the pages into a PDF file and then load them into the computer. But this didn’t work so we had to reload the scanned pages into a JPEG file (like a photograph) and download this. The blog options were all in Japanese so in order to convert them into English, I hadto first sign on to the google website. Then with English established, the blog instructions magically converted to English. Who would have thought a bilingual computer? But then again, why not? Unfortunately, the JPEG would only load into my blog in compacted form, almost impossible to read. But the only alternative was to publish in readable size, load only half a page (the left half or the right half). Not an option. Perhaps you can read these posts with a magnifying glass. Or, if I’m feeling extra energetic, I may type them again into my blogstream so they post in an easily readable size. Or, the information from those days, I hope interesting but not essential, can just be skipped.

And so, to wait for the bus where I met Peter and Joan from Palm Beach. Using a walker, Joan was obviously incapacitated in some way and when I asked how, she complained bitterly about twisting her foot and breaking a bone, only three weeks ago. Because they didn’t buy traveler’s insurance, they would havve forfieted a substantial part of their Silver Sea fare so decided to brave it out. Joan was not happy about that and no amount of my positive commiseration – just think of it as part of the adventure – prevented her from continuing to complain. Still, when the bus came she made it up the stairs more easily than I did.

Boarding the ship was much easier than in the past. Although the procedure still requires a photograph, taken for security, and a credit card imprint, this all moved along quite smoothly and the staff was as pleasant and helpful as always. My suite (all accommodations are called suites) was not yet ready so I had lunch – only two courses of the five on offer – and watched other Shadows as they came into the dining room. No one very interesting so far. The crowd looks “older” but I forget that I’m now in that category. The Palm Beachers sat behind me with Tony and his wife, Kathie (who was in a wheel chair), from Manchester, the English one, not the one in New Hampshire, and Peter began to talk about Romney. I stopped listening.

After lunch, I explored the ship to get my bearings. I’ve traveled on this ship twice before but it’s been a while and until the ship moves and I can detect bow from stern, it’s easy to become disoriented. In a stairwell, I ran into Elena, a shore excursion manager from my last Siver Sea cruise in 2011. I recognized her immediately and, surprisingly, she also recognized me. Small world. We had a brief chat about where and when. At lifeboat drill I met a couple from Chicago and later, Bruce, in the observation lounge, my favorite place on the ship. He is a turn-around manager and his wife, Dede, whom I did not meet, is a fellow photographer. They’re from New York and Jersey, with a home also in Florida. Their springer spaniel, Dolly, is their only child. Bruce and Dede have recently been on a cruise around South America where he told me that when Drake Passage has waves ony 20 feet high, it’s called the Drake Lake, but when the waves are higher, it’s known as the Drake Shake. Take along your dramamine!

Being a Solo as we’re called, I went to the Solo cocktail do where I met a whole group of other Solos: Nevil from Johannesburg (he travels all the time); Mark from Perth (already drunk), Nancy from near San Francisco (she came on the previous leg from Vancouver and, yes, it was cold); David from Nottingham; Coolie from Hawaii, New York and Florida (93, with many rings); all hosted by Elena and Yvonne, from Bonn. I had dinner with Nancy and Nevil, accompanied with very active and pleasant conversation. And then, happily, to bed at 9:30.

Stay tuned.

Saturday, September 22, 2012: So This is Tokyo

In the small moments in my mind, I begin to wonder if my stamina will hold out for long days of sightseeing. My back, particularly, objects when I stand and objects strenuously when under strain. Perhaps I should have thought more about my 77-year old physical abilities before booking such a physically demanding schedule. But I’m booked, and I’m going. Just armed with a full bottle of Aleve.

Today is the tour of Tokyo itself, still cloudy and threatening to rain. Umbrella? Or no umbrella? Leave my camera case in my room and to take strain off my back, and carry only the camera itself? And so down to the lobby to meet (yet another) bus.

I’ve given up on trying to understand our guide. Again I could get only a few words. I’m sure it’s my hearing. I already know I’m losing my highs and lows. It looks like rain so I got another umbrella from the concierge and to lighten the load on my back, have brought only my camera, slung oh so touristy over my shoulder instead of schlepping the whole camera bag. Again today the same routine: a representative of the tour company meets me in thehotel lobby and loads me into a waiting bus already filled with tourists like myself. To the main bus terminal where we all off-load, present our voucher at the tour office, get an assignment, with designated seat, for yet another bus for our particular tour. It seems like a logical system.

In this process, I’m again impressed by the ever-present courtesy shown by all Japanese. Even the lady who directs me to the next elevator in my hohtel bows deeply after the elevator is loaded and maintains that bow until the elevator door closes. And Japan is very clean and orderly – no trash on the street, no cigarette butts. I wonded where they go but while at a stoplight this morning, I saw a man smoking on the street (theoretically foribidden). Before the light changed and we moved on, he took a compact-looking thing from his pocket, flipped up the top and deposited his cigarette ashes inside. Nice. No-litter smoking.

[I’ll stop here to say that I’m typing this from a handwritten copy I wrote some days ago and on the only keyboard and computer released by the computer man just for me to perform in Word, the word processing program. So I have no choice but to use this keyboard, which is very “mushsy” meaning that the keys stick, and the spacer bar is not very responsive. This creates a lot of mistakes. So I hope you can bear with me as I labor on.

My seatmate today was Georgia, a not very attractive young lady from Australia who wasn’t particularly friendly but who was wearing a long – to her ankles – jersey dress with wide horizontal black and white stripes. Like a lighthouse for a fog bound ship, this dress could be seen from some distance away and since I often missed our guide’s instructions, I just picked out Georgia’s dress to follow. My own personal guide although she didn’t know that.

We went first to the Tokyo Tower, called the Sky Tree, an observation building 634 metres high and vaguely reminescent of the Eiffel Tower, a spread-legged erector set building with a funny tinker toy top that I suppose consitutes a TV antenna. A swift elevator , loaded with typical Japanese efficiency took us to the observation level where our guide shouted out above the general din the important buildings in the distance. Tokyo, with a population of 13 milliion, goes on and on. Not able to hear the guide, I took photographs of those sights I thought interesting but they all began to look much the same. Like similar cities all over the world; so much concete. One view that caught my eye was a modern Shinto temple with an ancient cemetery around it, all sloping roof with the tiny dots of graves around it. The Sky Tree made its debut only in May of this year and its publicity says that it is “drawing international attention."  No wonder. It’s visible from all over Tokyo.

Then on to an ancient tradition, a tea ceremony in a tea house 140 years old – please don’t lean against the walls – where we sat crowded together while a woman in traditional dress perfomed the rigid ritual of serving green tea, a somewhat thick and foul-tasting concoction that when drunk is supposed to take a year off your life. A galloon of it please? The tea house was nestled down deep within an elaborate and carefully manicured garden with rocks and trees and azaleas, not in bloom but smooth, with not a branch protruding to disrupt the eye. Of course I got bitten by a mosquito, which crashed an otherwise perfectly controlled event. The garden is a favorite place for bridal photographs and there were two couples posing, one couple in modern dress...all silk flowing out behind, and the other in traditional costume that our guide said was always rented, at about $3000 a day. Even getting hitched in Japan is not cheap! The route to and from the tea house was a complicated path paved with heavy stones that formed irregular steps. With my balance still not perfect, I had to be especially cautious and careful not to fall.

Moving along to lunch...in a hotel restaurant space where, like Japanese restaurants in the US, had hot plates in the middle of the tables where ladies in traditional dress cooked little pieces of meat and vegetables in a beautifully artful combination. Each piece was dipped in a Japanese version of barbecue sauce and then served. It was as pretty as it was delicious. And rice, of course. When in Rome, and all that jazz, I tried, reasonably successfully, to eat with chopsticks even though I had to cut some of the meat into pieces I could manipulate with my tools. Dessert was ice cream, thankfully served with a small spoon. The meal was served with cups of green tea – another year younger? – and then brown tea, loaded with herbs that are supposed to be good for the digestion.

Although the Imperial Palace itself is carefully shrouded deep in a private park, we were able to wander through an adjacent park, carefully manicured so that like bonsai, every tree and bush was perfect. It was a long wander from the bus to a gate to the imperial grounds and I was delayed and separated from my group by a traffic lane. Thank God for Georgia’s dress! The Imperial palace is open only two days a year and as many as 70,000 people parade through. And anyone can make an appointment to see the emperor; the wait has recently been reduced from 10 years to 6 months. In that time, it would be easy to forget what you wanted to ask him!

Then a boat trip on the river that runs from Tokyo Bay into the city, a half hour ride under many bridges and the ubiquitous highrise buildings – all beginning to look the same, on each side of the river. Not much else to see but I had an interesting conversation with a woman from Hawaii, intent on getting to a shop where she said one could buy an old kimono, worth $3000.00 for $300.00, from a retired former drag queen. I can’t wait!

The conclusion to our day was a walking tour – oh my by-now-aching back! – down a mile-long alee with souvenir shops on each side. The process began at “the main gate” of Akakusa and progressed through the Nakamise shopping arcade to “the middle gate” by a five-tiered pagoda, and ended at “the main hall” of a Kannon temple,a huge Shinto shrine all done in red and gold leaf. I hurried through the shopping arcade – I became rather claustrophobic in the intense crowd with proprietors hawking their wares on either side. The crowd was a little like the press of people all leaving a sporting even tat the same time and I couldn’t help but think about fans in Ireland being crushed at a soccer game.

At the Shinto temple, one can buy – for 100 yen , about 50 cents – one’s fortune. In front of a high wall filled with many little drawers, you shake a long metal container, shaped like a kaliedescope, until a long bamboo stick finds its way through a tiny hole in one end. On the stick is a number that corresponds to the drawers in the wall. You open your drawer and there in a pile is your forturne. Mine could not have been worse. It said, “No 39. Bad fortune. You can’t tell your request to others, having to hold it in your own mind. Misfortune happens to you repeatedly, just like fire burns your house. Trouble danger be at you continuously, you should be very careful, that you loose the most important article for your life. Your request will not be granted. The patient will get worse. The lost article will not be found. The person you wait for will not come. Stop buiding a house and removal. Stop starting trip. Marriage and employment are both bad.” There goes the lottery and any hope for a tall, dark stranger.

After that, a drive through the Ginza was anti-climatic – it’s more like Rodeo Drive than Times Square – Gucci, Tom Ford, Armani, Hermes all crowded together like the Nakamise shopping arcade but much more expensive.

By the time I got back to the Imperial, I was again exhausted. I had my $16.00 vodka and tonic and went to bed. I have to stop beating myself up like this. But tomorrow is easy – pack and go to the ship and then a following day at sea. Now that’s a future to which I can look forward. And all the vodka and tonics will be free!

Stay tuned.

 

TOO LARGE AND TOO SMALL

September 23, 2012: I've had a terrible time posting to this blog. The helpful internet lady scanned my printed pages (saved several days ago) to a JPEG file and then downloaded to my blog from there. But since the pages were printed the full size of a regular 8 1/2 x 11 size, we couldn't load to my blog without diminishing the size of the information. If you can read it, fine. If not, those days will just have to be recounted at my next dinner party.

Stay tuned (I hope the future posts will be easier)

Packed and ready to go....

I absolutely hate packing. I don’t mind the actual cramming of the things into the luggage at the last minute. That’s only a matter of organization, like order, like lists, those chores that are totoally compatible with my basic personality. But making the decisions? Now that’s hard. First there are the bathroom things: shaving cream, a razor, toothbrush and toothpaste, you know: the things you use every morning? I usually go through my daily routine in my mind but there are those other things that I don’t use on a daily basis that absolutely have to go in. And when I’ve already folded the shirts in plastic garbage bags, and laid them all out on top. Dig in. Find a little space for the travel alarm. Or the little bag of electrical adapters. Then I have to decide on the clothes. Do I take a tuxedo, and all those accoutrements that go with it? Cuff links, a cummerbund. The clip on? Or the tie-it-yourself? I’m usually late for a formal nights on board and my fingers are getting a little too old to slip that end around and through the other. And the formal shirts? All too small. I had to run out at the last minute and buy a new one. The salesman said a size 18. But I bought an 18 ½ just so I won’t have to struggle with the button. Short sleeved shirts? Or long sleeves? The wash-it-yourself underwear? How many pairs of socks? The black belt or the brown one? Or both? They don’t take up much space. How many T-shirts? What colors? And the Crocs. Do I take more than one pair?

It’s been quite a day. All those decisions. But I’ve made them and packed now. I got everything in, even the baseball caps – I always pack them in the corners with the brims down so they won’t flatten out. It was a hard decision. But I only packed three. Since I’m traveling business class, thanks to frequent flyer miles – I don’t have to worry about how much my luggage weighs. I know it’s over 50 pounds but it travels free. Now I can rest. Until tomorrow morning, when Freedom picks me up at 4:30. Did I pack the travel alarm? Oh my. How’m I going to wake up at four o’clock? Do I have to dig through all that pile of stuff again?

Stay tuned.

And now, at the last minute....

Silver Sea, my cruise line, has just notified me that in addition to my China visa, successfully received just a few days ago, I now need a "letter of invitation" from some entity in China that will serve as a reason for going. Silver Sea gave me the email address of such an entity and I have emailed them this morning with the required information. I understand that China is very picky about documents so I hope the information provided will suffice. Leaving next Wednesday, I don't have much time for last minute crises.

Stay tuned.

Since my last post....

Since my last post in June, my physical condition has both improved, and deteriorated. The good news is that the knee and the vertebrae in my back have healed nicely. The sad news is that both still give me some discomfort, which prevents me from standing or walking for very long. I’m still in physical therapy for both – and for some damage to a rotator cuff – and have begun to feel when I go for therapy that I’m back in school. They’ve all been very nice to me there and I guess I’m slowly improving. But the work continues.


Despite all this, I’ve planned that long-desired cruise and am leaving next week for Tokyo where I will board the Silver Shadow for a cruise to Beijing, and intermediate ports in Japan, Korea and China. I’m looking forward with great anticipation to being waited on for a couple of weeks, although I’m sure the deck hand who brings me a drink will also have to help me up from the deck chair. My usual traveling companions all have understandable reasons for not joining me so I’ll just have to turn on my “dance host” charm from a few years ago and go gettem’.

Sadly, the publication of my memoir was not an entirely happy affair. Something I wrote about a dear friend was, without my knowing (or remembering), considered a secret and my revealing it caused a big flap, which has affected my friendships with many of my former close friends. Apologies have not helped. So the last few months have been perhaps the loneliest in my life, yet another reason to be on the road again and to meet some new people.

As I can (and as I feel up to it), I will write here about my adventures, so you can follow along if you wish.

Stay tuned.