29 December 2009 Puerto Chiapas, Mexico

Puerto Chiapas is a good starting point for Archeological excursions, as there are a great number of Aztec, Inca, Mayan and earlier Civilization artifacts in the state of Chiapas...lots of pyramids...and lots of Vulcanoes. One very tall cone towers at the horizon beyond the coastal flats.

Chiapas is also famous for the best coffee in Mexico, as well as for absolutely great 'homemade' chocolate..all grown in this Mexican state.

I took the shuttle bus to 'town' and wandered through the busy markets and the town square in paralysing heat.

Everything, from piles of dead chickens, fruit, vegetables, plastic everything could be had on the markets, where some stalls were so small - there was only a chair and something like a hat stand covered with goods for sale. One could hardly squeeze through the throng of people and sales stands.

And across the street, the 'Palacio de Bodas' (Wedding Palace), one of many over-the-top wedding shops which display the most elaborate wedding gowns known to humankind. Glitzy enough to stand out during a carnival parade or a beauty pageant.

28. December 2009 Huatulco, Mexico

The journey between Puerto Vallarta and Huatulco took an entire sea day. Temperatures had risen to beach wear levels, dolphins jumped the bow waves, sea turtles flapped their flippers in the clear waters, gulls used the turtles as temporary islands in the sea. The Sierra Madre and Acapulco glided by on the Eastern horizon, and the sea was flat.

Being a 'frequent cruiser' so to speak, the perques are rolling in...

Some lucky guests aboard drank their way through a generous wine tasting session, our world crusing complement of guests joined a generous Captain's reception, the firsts loads of unlimited laudry service have made their way back into the cabin - clean, ironed, folded.

Our ship docked in Huatulco at 08:00, and another cruise ship Azamara tied up next door to us, thus providing some shade during the heat of the day.

Huatulco, or in the old Nahuatle language 'cuauhotolco', place of beautiful wood, is spread over nine distinct bays. A small small number of them are 'developed' bays, all are charming in their own way. The Mexican government has declared most of the area  protected, thus the natural beauty is largely preserved.

A sunworshippers paradise with the largest Club Med in the western hemisphere somewhere hidden away, and a number of north American style resorts strung along selected beaches as well as many small Mexican hotels in the little town of Crucecita. I checked the price of one Mexican hotel - $12 per night. The resorts are probably more expensive...

I took a taxi to the town of Crucecita ($3) and walked until it got too hot, and until I ran out of alleys to explore. Not that there was that much to explore...The church dedicated to the Virgen of Guadalupe with numerous colourful paintings of her, one taking up the entire church ceiling, was definitely the cultural highlight. The town made more of a Mexican impression than a 'touristy' one, as the regular Mexican shops outnumbered the tourist traps about twenty to one. Still plenty of handicrafts around...I took a taxi back to the port ($2).

The port area of 'Santa Cruz'  caters both to Mexican visitors (of whom there are great numbers) and the foreign tourists. Everyone seems to mingle on the beaches, the Mexican people often entering the sea almost fully clothed, the foreigners wearing as little as possible. The Mexicans for the most part, bring their own picnic, the foreigners order their tacos and cervezas from the restaurants and bars along the beach. There is an extensive 'shopping arcade' as well as a little capilla (chapel) and plenty of opportunity to convert hard earned money into local trinkets, jewellery, clothing, woven cloths and folcloric Oaxan wares.

There is an endless line up of pangas, whose captains earn more money transporting visitors (Mexicans and others) to various beaches in the nine bays, than they would during any regular fishing season. So most pangas have seats and a canvas cover, instead of fishing paraphernalia. My cabin mate and I rented one of those for $20 for the 'agent' or shore side 'trapper', and $30 for the captain. That was not quite as the captain saw it, he wanted to give the 'agent' $10 and keep $40 for himself. But - he drove us around anyway - 15 minutes less than planned, fair enough.

Late afternoon, everyone back aboard. The ship docked across from us left half an hour before us - apparently four of it's passengers missing upon departure...hope those poor souls did not leave home without it...

We off loaded a woman who seemed to have injured her leg somewhere, as she sat  in a wheelchair with her leg all bandaged up. She, her husband, and a pile of luggage disappeared along the long pier. Shortly after the ship nosed out of port and were off into the sea, which kicked up a bit of a swell as soon as we hit open ocean.

Dinner was shaky, to say the least. One of our table mates, getting around in a wheelchair, had to leave dinner to roll to the restrooms. He said he nearly fell into the urinal and feared, he would fall out of his chair later at the blackjack table and finish up on the floor somewhere. Not good for his game. His young companion celebrated her birthday, and the crew delivered an Indonesion happy birthday song.

I took my high heeled shoes off, skipped the dancing bit, and padded back to the cabin to catch up on sleep. Ah, best sleep yet, rocked and rocked and rocked...

The culprit of all the upheaval in the sea was something called the 'Tehuantepecanos', whichs a local wind phenomena. We were crossing the Gulf of Tehuantepec, known for high winds blowing through a narrow gap between the Sierra Madre mountain range of the Central American mainland. 

I cannot put titles under my attached photos when publishing via e-mail, so leave it to the understanding reader to 'figure things out'.

28. December 2009 - Family Beach Day in Huatulco

One of the many bays in Huatulco, where MS Amsterdam as well as Azamara (Valetta, Malta) docked.

Mexican families love their beaches and come down in droves, especially here to Huatulco, which was a preferred vacation spot for Mexican citizens before international tourism ever discovered this beautiful area.

Most Mexican's don't know how to swim, though, which does not lower the fun quotient in the least...

26. December 2009 - Puerto Vallarta Wildlife

 

26. December 2009 - Puerto Vallarta

MS Amsterdam docked at 08:00 just before daylight at the Puerto Vallarta docks. Overcast sky, cool and slighty humid.

After customs clearance I took off to Old Town Puerta Vallarta catching one of the blue and white buses, which conveniently pass close to the dock. Fifty cents, a top speed ride, and a bums on experience of the not so smooth Vallarta roads later, I got off in El Centro. Being Boxing Day and only 9 in the morning, everything was still 'cerrado' (closed) and the town had not quite woken up yet. Headed for the one and only fishing dock, where Mexican families were catching lunch: Puffer Fish, Needle Fish and unidentified other floating objects. Some used weighted nets. Some flung hand held lines into the water. There were plastic Coca Cola bottles filled with something looking like fish food amongst the fishing paraphernalia. I asked one of the fishermen, what the story was behind that.

The bottles are filled with 'arena' (sand) and used to anchor the fishing line reel to the dock, he explained and demonstrated the procedure.

Ingenious!

Wore out my feet, walking along the entire Malecon (the seaside promenade), into the famous lacy domed cathedral, into a few early opening tourist shops, then headed into the cobblestoned side alleys and visited every art gallery - now open - that I saw. Vallarta must be inspiring as the art selection is incredibly varied and - best of all - very good.

One can only walk for so long and so far....about four hours and a wonderfully cool Pacifico cerveza later, I braved another one of those rattletrap rides taking me back to the ship and Soriana (the Mexican equivalent of the Great Canadian Superstore) to stock up on a couple of bottles of Chilean wine. Many of my ship mates, espying the prominent Walmart sign from the upper decks of the ship, chose to buy their essentials at this familiar establishment. And a Mexican Walmart does stock essentials, like wine and viagra and walking sandals! Soriana was closer to the ship, less 'recognizable' as a Superstore, and less comprehensive in its offerings, i.e. nothing apart from food, wine, beer and spirits, and pharmacia (so the Viagra consumers would probably be able to find their favourite brand).

So the 'tour' to town cost me $4 ($1 for return bus ride, and $3 for the cerveza)

The ship is still under strict sanitation protocol...on top of the obvious preventative measures (no self serve buffet, no hot tubs) no brochures or books in any displays, in case someone may read them and put them back in a rack, thus potentially contaminating the item. There is an army of polishers making their way along every brass handrail, and there are miles of that stuff on the ship. All diners are waylaid at the dining room entry by a very friendly, courteous but VERY conscientious uniformed attendant, who squirts blue stuff out of a bottle onto every pair of hands passing the gates to food heaven. All is executed rather 'discreetly', as not to frighten the guests, some of whom are still being observed by astute travellers NOT WASHING THEIR HANDS IN THE WASHROOM. With all those disinfecting efforts by the crew, however, one should be able to eat not only of every floor, but slurp the barnacles of the ship's keel.

Despite all caution,  our Tasmanian table mate has mysteriously disappeared since two dinners. He prouded himself that the only time he had ever been sick in his apparently very long and wildy active life, happened when he had a hernia. Well, now he can add another bit of trivia to that history...the day he got 'sea-sick'. Whether it's 'mal-de-mer' or 'mal-de-bateau' is still up in the air, or down the toilet bowl...we may find out, when he staggers back to dinner....where we won't shake his hand in welcome. Handshaking is out of bounds as well.

Sea day today, 27th December. Sunny and getting hotter.

Captain's Reception tonight for the 71 World Travellers (out of 1000+ total guests) who will continue the hourney beyond Fort Lauderdale.

That's all, folks.

Fw: 24. December 2009 - off Baja California

 

Hello Friends,

Merry Christmas first of all.

The convoluted, but pleasant journey to our port of embarcation, Los Angeles, went as per plan: car, bus, ferry, crash at a friend's house overnight, more car, plane, another bus to the ship - and BINGO we are off. Waved Gooodbye to LA and the old Quenn Mary docked right beside the Amsterdam, and sailed of into the night.

Now, I am cruising along the Coast of Baja Califorrnia toward our official first Port of Call: Puerto Vallarta.

But, things never go as planned. We will be anchoring in Cabo San Lucas as an intermediate stop, as one of the crew has to be taken off the ship to receive shore side medical treatment.

The ship is decorated for the season: garlands, green and red balloons, flower arrangements, toy trains, ginger bread houses, Christmas trees everywhere and even a REAL nativity scene. Last night we held a Christmas tree light celebration with carrols in the Atrium of the ship. Santa Claus will be boarding tomorrow one hears...

The ship is also under the very strictest health watch: H1N1, Norwalk viruses are kept at bay with the most stringent etiquette. Hand sanitizer dispenser EVERYWHERE, even computers and books are wiped clean. No Salt and Peppers on the table, no trays in use, all is served by the ever so accommodating crew, and army of cleaners are keeping the ship absolutely pristine. It went so far that even the inside of wine ice buckets were sprayed - just in case someone wants to sip the dregs right from the bucket. No one shakes hands...

So far, all is quiet and serene. It turns warmer by the minute, Cabo San Lucas will be a warm Christmas surprise, but I doubt that we will have shore time. No great loss, as Cabo is best seen from the water.

 

It's a dog's life growing up in Nova Scotia

My little buddy Stumpi in Nova Scotia, on a day early summer 09, when he bravely struck out from the safety of his mom's doggie bed at an age of - maybe - 6 weeks young.




Oh, youthful innocence and curiosity....




with a bit of 'je ne sais quoit...'




And a body full of promise....here is is about three months old, a perky teenager already. This is the time in October 09, when he and I became buddies.



A few months later...... December 09


Now, at about six months of age, Stumpi is still stumpy, but his self assurance sure grew in leaps and bounds and fetches so much that...


he is confident enough to venture off into the wintry Nova Scotia wilds at the controls of his brand new snowmobile (must be his Christmas present...in addition to a whole baking pan full of home baked jerky-treats, lovingly sliced, diced and dried by his personal Doggie Santa Claus).
Merry Christmas Everyone!

All photos courtesy of BDW.

Armchair dancing, armchair travel...

Four eye-opening Argentinian Tango lessons and one Milonga later - I am hooked. I danced all my life, but THIS is different. It's not just a 'dance' where one learns a series of intricate steps, but a whole new world of non verbal, but nevertheless intensely eloquent way of communication, movement, response, improvisation and - ahhh - hauntingly passionate music.
On Maslov's hierarchy of needs it definitely rates at the top - self realization in the most profoundly stirring manner.....and I am saying that as a novice to the art.
I regret I did not discover Argentinian tango twenty years (or maybe more) ago.
What lies in store for me now?
For starters: Buenos Aires, the cradle of tango way back in the beginning of the twentieth century. I will be strolling the avenidas of Buenos Aires in February, and am eager already to immerse myself in poetry by Borges, music by Piazolla, lyrics by Carlos Gardel and sound of bandeons everywhere.
Experience the nostalgia which dilapidated ruins of past splendor awake, and feel the hesitant but unstoppable re-birth of Paris of South America.
Get lost amongst the crowded 'pedestrians only' streets, ride the SubTe (Subway) and catch a taste of the barrios, which range from the most exclusively wealthy to the most disturbingly poor.
Tango is not only alive and thriving in the city but is still an essential part of the soul of the city. A bus ride or walk to the barrios of San Telmo, Palermo, La Boca and Recolete or even further out, will take the patient and curious visitor beyond Tourist Tango Shows, to the hidden Milongerias, where Portenos of all ages dance with all their heart, soul, sadness, loneliness and - yes - allegria of oh-so-tragic tango, lively milonga or happy tango waltz.

Well, here we come....

This lady's expression mirrors the anguish I feel during my amateurish attempts. Not because of the effect of haunting music, but because of my protesting untrained feet and an anxiety to 'do the correct thing'. The male partner here seems to be saying: just relax, this won't hurt.
Little does he know.....

OK, we are getting a little more confidence here. I have to attend a few more 'practicas' before I could let it 'all hang out'.

I understand, this is how dancers look when they are in their tango prime, but....

After years and years and years when tango dancing mutates from mere dance into 'the meaning of life, universe and everything' some people forget to eat, drink, sleep.....


In the meantime ...
Next week will be D-Day for me. I will cast off and start my Odyssey from the area just above and to the left of the pink area on the North American landmass, where Vancouver Island is located. All that white stuff on top is the North Polar Ice Cap. All frozen water surrounded by land.

Then I head south to the most remote and pristine bit of earth there is, Antarctica, a huge continent permanently covered with an immense ice-cap, and isolated from the rest of the world by water, water and more water.


I won't penetrate to the centre - that is reserved for scientist with more guts than I have - but the ship will skirt the Antarctic Peninsular, the little white hook that extends northward to Cape Horn from the humongous white blob of land covered with ice a couple of miles thick.
Starting to get travel-fever....

Signs of The Season

There are not too many golfers teeing off on the course next door; the deer graze on the deserted fairways.


Jinglebells next on the program?


A pond has frozen solid, something very unusual in this part of the country. Some skaters had carved a few designs on the glassy surface. Time for pond hockey before we return to typically 'milder' climes.

The Bay Shopping Centre downtown Victoria is home to a few fake penguins, not to clear which species they represent. However they seem to like the Poinsettas, something the Antarctic never ever sprouts.

Kettle Orchestra helping shoppers into the mood of giving.

It's the port/starboard season, everything seems to evolve into shades of green and red.