North to Alaska: It’s All Greek to Me

The tour guide had to check if the door was open for entry to the St. Nicholas Orthodox Church. We lucked out; she found a caretaker with a key. Finally, a chance to get out of the tiresome misting rain.

The Tlingit parishioners built the blue and white, octagonal church from local wood in 1893. The history is fascinating, at least to me.

The tour ended with the church visit. We were on our own. What to do? The famous Red Dog Saloon beckoned. Silly not to peek inside, right?

Too chilled for a beer, we didn’t stay long and moseyed into a couple little shops—mega touristy trinkets—to pick out gifts for the family back in Ontario. Mary chose two charms for a forgotten bracelet. I bought a bunch of postcards (five for $1.00 USD), which are scarce back home and cost a dollar each if you’re lucky to find them. As well, I picked out two pairs of charming Forget-me-not Swarovski Crystal pierced earrings for my granddaughters. My daughter is a necklace queen; I saw no interesting pieces for her.

Stopped at Vintage Fare Café  and Espresso for a coffee, a sit, and much-needed Wifi. Sitting proved to be my undoing as I felt lazy and tired of the chill in my bones. We were happy to return to the ship without having spent hundreds of dollars on excursions and planned to watch out for tour guides at the rest of our stops in port.

Along the way back, we passed numerous plagues about lighthouses and this huge outdoor mural: Passengers not allowed at the top of this house. I’m surprised my photo didn’t turn out bad either.

The shops are bright and the boats inviting. Why do towns on the water—everywhere it seems—have their buildings painted in delightful, vivid colours?

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Shoes off, we decided to kick back and enjoy a glass of wine in our stateroom. By 6:30, My stomach rumbled. I looked forward to the specialty on the menu: salmon. Other choices were pork and beef but fish it had to be. What luck! No salmon. Ten minutes, they said. This, after a shortage of shrimp the previous night. I was not happy. The twice-baked potatoes were dry and the green beans tough and stringy. Mary’s patience rewarded her with a sliver of salmon which I ranked as undercooked, opaque, and gelatinous. She said it was o-kay.

I had no desire for my usual after dinner coffee. That’s a first. After a glass of water, I was done.

We decided to take in a movie. The small but authentic theatre, we later found out, was also used for various Sunday services. It seemed a popular venue and filled quickly. Having arrived early, we chose seats dead centre to the screen with a clear view throughout the movie, titled Split. It was not clear why the main character with 23 personalities snatched three girls and kept them hidden. I enjoyed the opportunity to vacate our room and the new experience of the glam ship’s theatre. On second thought, that’s incorrect. We watched movies on the ship my mom and I sailed to Canada, but I have no recollection what the theatre looked like. Though only four, I do not know what movies we saw but do recall a man hitting on my mother and gifting me a bag of raisins. I wonder if she confessed to my father when we arrived.

As the credits rolled and we lined up to exit the Alaska cruise theatre, a ship hostess handed out small bags of fresh popcorn. Yum. Another day ending.

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Next on May May 4^th – North to Alaska: Skagway Adventures?

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

North to Alaska: All Aboard

My heart dancing the Watusi, I took in nothing of my surrounding as we boarded the cruise ship, MS Volendam. We were already in the system as it was mandatory to complete an online registration no less than a week prior and up to 50 days before departure. Doing so also opened an onboard account to which all extras (drinks, purchases, internet etc.) excluded from the cruise price were billed to our (registered) credit card.

From the time we arrived at the port, continued through processing, and arrived in our stateroom, an hour and a half had passed. I’ve no recollection how we found our cabin. Our ocean-view room troubled us due to noisy people passing by and conversing on the deck outside the window. Mary closed the drapes as we thought they could look inside but as it turned out, they could not. Feeling exposed, we kept them closed throughout the cruise.

Mary’s bag arrived at 1:47 about 17 minutes after arriving in our room. I asked our stateroom attendant, Dan, “Where the heck is mine?”

“Maybe tomorrow,” Dan said, “if not today.” He was a reedy Pilipino in a signature Volendam jacket, mischief in his eyes, crooked teeth center stage. He had a bit of an accent but his English was excellent as was his partner’s, James.

We cut expenses where we could

We decided to explore and ended up on the lido deck for a snack. Upon our return, my luggage still had not arrived. We asked the young attendant outside our door what might be taking so long.

“Maybe they found liquor inside.”

What? The cruise line allowed one bottle of wine per passenger (only wine) with a warning of confiscation if more. Just my luck. I prepared for such a drama.

An announcement over the PA system suggested attendance to a Safety Meeting. A couple we met on the lido deck said we sign in with our room key. If our information isn’t registered at the meeting, they come to get you. Some suggestion. We moseyed to Station 8 Muster Station for the presentation shy of 4:00 p.m. Large groups gathered at various stations we could see all along the length of the ship. I worried about so many people on one side at once. The day was dull and dry but it was chilly and I wanted the meeting to finish.

People in large groups act like children. They act as if rules do not apply to them. Some kept talking during the demonstration and we couldn’t hear the woman speaker. “Be quiet!” The talkers were warned, not once but twice, before they zipped their lips.

We returned to our room afterward and I could not believe my bag had finally arrived. The lock had not been broken; I checked inside. Both bottles hid in the folds of clothes in their bubble wrap cocoons, dry and in one piece.

Around 5:00 o’clock, a gentle murmur underfoot—a light vibration no more than a whisper—signaled we were underway. Mary and I watched from inside the eighth-floor deck as the ship skimmed over the shimmering, glass-smooth water, soundless as a ghost ship. We eased toward the underside of the Lions Gate Bridge and the Pacific Ocean, barely disturbing the surface.

We sliced through the water barely disturbing the surface, shown bottom left of photo

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Next on March 23^rd – North to Alaska: Chit-chatting Passengers

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles

The People’s Path and more

The mention of food ratcheted up my craving for a fat, juicy burger and fries. Forget the calories—and a tall, cold beer. Our destination, St. James’s Well Irish pub, a favorite of the Vancouver hikers. I took little notice of the dark, polished wood surrounds and the long wall of large front windows. Gimme a menu. Please. I must have been more dazed than I imagined as I ordered a grilled sirloin sandwich instead. I never eat sandwiches. Beyond disappointed, I dug in anyway but finished only two-thirds. It was tasty and quieted my hankering for food. The beer, though, arrived tall and warm. Warm after a parched hike. The simple lunch cost $25.00 but the company and camaraderie were priceless. Sigh.

The pub fare scented the air although the breeze outside had dropped. We exchanged warm goodbyes with promises of future meetings. The sun smiled large and benevolent; we moseyed to the SUV and soon a nap—I hoped. Almost 7:00 p.m. Ontario time, I lumbered slow as a turtle in January due to a full tummy and a (warm) beer-buzzed brain.

A nap did not happen. We rested till evening, visiting and catching up on email. My three compadres chose to watch a movie. The day finally ended at an exhausting 2:00 a.m., Ontario time.

Doorway to the deck and sunshine

The next morning, after a late lumberjack’s breakfast, Jean and Michael suggested a visit to West Vancouver’s Centennial Seawalk for a stroll. The light jacket weather was perfect for the two-kilometer outing (x 2).

At the start:

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The paved walkway filled with a brisk and surging crowd yet not congested. I avoided photographing strangers and loved this relaxed walk and scenery.

Along the way:

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The end of the line, on the way back to the car park. For a change, I have a zillion pictures, too many to post.

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Additional images of the Centennial Seawalk

Another full day, a late supper, and a delightful treat in someone’s front yard around the block from Jean and Michael’s. I want one of these on my lawn, I do. I do. Don’t you? The thought is tempting but I cannot be trusted to not spend all day at the window. When books were exchanged, I’d race out for first scrutiny soon as the bibliophile departed. I had better not entertain the idea. . .

Next on March 2^nd: North to Alaska: Vancouver Lookout Tower

© 2018 Tess @ How the Cookie Crumbles