Only thirty guests under nineteen years of age aboard, down from the fourhundred for the previous leg of the journey. The pitter-patter of little feet is mercifully absent....
I almost miss the reassuring racket that surrounded my stateroom, where I was encircled by one of the many extended families occupying the neighbouring landscape - parents and grandparents in adjoining veranda suites, and their army of offspring in the opposing inside cabins. The kids would chase each other down the hallways, hammering at cabin doors yelling 'LET MEEEE IIIIIN' or 'OOOOOPEN UUUUUP'' at full lung capacity, whilst hammering at the doors with a sound like jackhammers. Then family 'communication' would be conducted amongst a bunch of open doors, with everyone outyelling each other, until finally doors would slam with wall shaking crashes and temporary silence would return - all that works somehow as a night cap at around midnight. Room-service for breakfast for the whole clan delivered to the veranda cabins - more room for the multitudes, who would assemble after another interval of slammed doors and early morning wake up yelling to break fast. Well, they are gone...
So are the three layers of kids in the mid ship swimming pool. Three layers, one may ask? Yes, the top layer consisted of a small horde running, screaming, diving, pushing around the edge of the pool, where a hapless security man (diverted from his usual gangway monitoring job to supervise the supposedly unsupervised family pool) tried with gentle gestures to enforce the 'no running, no diving, no jumping' rule - without success. Kid's vision does not extend further than a texting arm - beyond that reach - oblivion.
The second layer of youngsters churned up the water: bombing, swimming, clambering over each other in the azure pool. And the third layer played 'hold your breath' or 'how far to swim under water' games. A rather entertaining spectacle, if somewhat skirting the chance of injury or worse...but, parents (who are required to supervise their children in the pool) were either absent or hiding under a towel on a lounge chair.
Keeping the kids out of the 'adults only' pool at the aft end of the ship was intermittently successful...ever so often one of the wine stewards would wade into the shallow ledge surrounding the pool basin, and talk one of the truculent youngsters into climbing out and heading midship...
A couple of attentive parents brought their babies into the Lido Buffet restaurant, where they put the little bundles of joy swaddled into their diapers onto the tables to check their nether regions for accidents or feed them baby formula. Well, the staff is meticulous in desinfecting EVERYTHING all the time...And there was the anorexic mother with two pre-schoolers in tow, who stormed out of the main dining room (which has an extensive menu and accommodates ANY meal restriction) at dinner time in a nervous rage, stating; 'There is nothing to eat in there for you kids'.
Not an opinion shared by some of our fellow guests belonging to the gold medal winner (USA) in the 'most obese' population on earth competition. (UK and Mexico share the silver and bronze medals). One family of five must have topped the scale at a combined weight of a metric ton - not a cozy ride, sharing any elevator with them...A few other portly guests had to be transported in their personalized SUV's (Snack Utility Vehicle) to the various feeding stations for the requisite five meals a day - each with desert - as they could not support their own weight.
Mostly a surprisingly elegant crowd (the motley crew of the holiday rush is gone), and Formal Night proved to be a veritable fashion show with a constant display of long gowns, dark suits or tuxes, little girls in Alice in Wonderland outfits, and boys in stiff white shirts, black pants and cufflinks...even a couple of oh-so-bonny Scotsmen in formal kilts with sporrans and the whole regalia.
Elegance was somewhat put to the test at the very discreet and superb Tamarind Pan-Aasian Restaurant on the Eleventh Deck, where a youngish couple seated next to my table, ignored most of the courses of exquisitely prepared delicacies in preference to the sensuous offerings of each other. Things got rather cozy, and I had trouble resting my eyes on anything that was not awkwardly embarrassing, whereas the immaculately trained attendants tried their best to ignore the display of Kama Sutra with professional aplomb. A few days later, when this couple disembarked at Fort Lauderdale, the heat was still on - but now it limited itself to touchingly tender bum caresses during breakfast, which - in turn - was left untouched of course.
Ships must inspire romantic notions, in some more than in others...an extremely trendy and fashionable attired group of young men (all without socks, though, even on formal nights) would exchange affectionate kisses before settling languidly into the elegant armchairs of the Ocean Bar. There we all listened to a pretty good dance band, led by a pianist from Halifax, who could not hold a note, but treated us to the most vocally demanding Frank Sinatra songs. Luckily, he sometimes forgot to switch his voice microphone on, and one could enjoy his unblemished piano playing - which was in tune and very good. On the last evening of his singing, the stunning revolving light fixture, suspended from the Atrium Ceiling surrounding the Ocean Bar, got stuck - must have been the impact of one of his better notes. Normally the beautiful glass sculpture of downtown Manhattan (with elongated mirror image in glass as well ) revolves slowly and changes hues from apple green to rose pink during each turn.
Some people danced, for better or worse...One very distinguished couple, tall, slim, elegant, immaculate....she a sixtiish charming and beautiful lady, he an equally charming grey haired dignified black gentleman....danced in the most perfect ball room style and executed the most difficult maneuvres with smooth grace. Some others enjoyed the 'let's have a party' style of dancing, which involved a lot of bouncing like living missiles across the dance floor.
My dining table fellow guests are delightful.
There is the distinguished couple from West Vancouver, both over eighty, well travelled, witty conversationalists - she tiny and so blind, that she cannot distinguish a blueberry from a steak on her plate, and he (retired insurance broker) considerate and caring; as a combination they are more than fit to conquer the world and its oceans.
There is the young couple from Connecticut (with a cottage in the Carolinas somewhere) who have three pets at home: a Wallaby called Boomer (full name Sydney Boomerang) two Bombay Black cats (Midnight and Stormy) and a Russian Blue cat (Zafia)....we saw the photos. He is a retired correctional officer (about mid thirty and mid 300lbs) who had to give up work after being beaten up in a fight with an inmate (14-19 year old violent crime offenders). He ONLY eats steak and potatoes, never touched anything green in his life...or anything that does not come from a piece of cattle. She - somewhat roly-poly - is into Reiki, Spirituality and selling dance attire, and talks with a soft Southern lilt.
The third couple hails from the Isle of Man in the British Channel. Both retired, funny and entertaining conversationists - if one could only understand the wife, who talks in the broadest Manx accent, which sounds like something out of the show 'Coronation Street' only much slower and much more incomprehensible.
I not only survive, but thrive....finding little nooks of solitude in the deserted (at least during daytime) Silk Den, elegant, comfortable, great view...or scaling the highest open decks with nary a sunbather anywhere, but the huge expanse of ocean spread out twelve stories below. Cuba slips past, the Bahamas slip past, flying fish slip past....
And the ship Nieuw Amsterdam is - without question - quite beautiful...
