A slow Welcome to the USA.
Customs and Border Control boarded the ship at 06:00, armed with their side arms, briefcases and Starbucks Coffees, and set up shop in the ships small movie theatre and the 'Showroom of the Sea' , the new name of the BIG theatre. And the fun began.
American passengers were directed to the little theatre, all other nationalities to the big one for their double face to face exposure to the authorities. Passports, transit cards, conrol cards, ship-issued personal identity card, customs declaration. The aliens were in the majority and lined up by the hundred in the hallways of the BIG theatre for their inspection. The smaller number of US citizens enjoyed an organised process, being called deck by deck, through their SMALL theatre. No one allowed off the ship until everyone of us has passed muster.
As quite a number of the passengers terminated their Vancouver-San Diego journey here, they dragged not only their hand luggage around with them, but some suitcases as well.
I passed the test around 10:00, four hours after the 'recommended' get ready time. A double test it was, one table of officials checked the person, the second table checked the person's cabin number off a few lists covering transients, US debarkation, Canadians debarkation and other aliens debarkation, which added to the confusion.
By 10:00 the ships loudspeakers called the obligatory slow pokes, who had not yet made their way to the mandatory inspection. By 11:00 they must have all been tracked down, because the string of blue clad officials left the ship, and disembarkation began - at least for the true disembarkers, who by that time plugged every hallway, having had to vacate their cabins by 10:30.
Ah well, eventually the throng thinned out, and we 'transients' realized that we were free to walk off the ship into the sunny at San Diego midday. 4 hours in port left, whoopee!
Of course, my ship card set off the alarm upon my attempted exit. No problem, someone took me under their watchful eye and escorted me off the ship and delivered me to the office to the Officials. Advised to wait, I did my time under supervision until the only 'operative' had finished confiscating a couple of kid's toys from a distraught grandmother - who knows why, maybe they were made of a forbidden organic substance...
The operator adressed me asking: Why are you here?
To which I truthfully answered: I don't know.
Another thorough check of all my documents, a convoluted question and answer session about being in transit and going back to the ship, and thorough explanations about what am intending to do in San Diego (walk around). Then he shook his head, pronounced me admissible and escorted me to the last exit check, where he cleared me through another line up of officers.
Whew - noon and Shore Leave finally!
I walked along the sunny shore promenade, through valleys of glass and steel hotel towers, through a few urban parks, a shopping mall, and back to the shore promenade. A pretty town, wide boulevards, all more or less geared for commuting by car instead of by foot. Distances looked short on the street map, but turned out to be convenient to cars but not pedestrians. However, the shore walk is very pleasant, regardless of distance. I was surprised by the large number of beggars and homeless people (one micro park in the midst of upscale downtown must have had twenty beggars in one spot) who were evident in every part of the town through which I passed. Maybe it is a result of the recession, maybe the benevolent climate, maybe???
Back at the ship a couple of hours later, and my ships identity card set off the alarm again. However, I was welcome aboard anyway. A march to the front office to fix up my alarming identity seems advisable. I don't relish the idea of facing US border guards at every port, if this thing keeps setting off all kinds of alarms.
