Haloranch

I should write a bit about Sugarloaf, which gave us some stunning views of the city, mountain and ocean. But now that the vacation is over, I'm strangely remote from it all. Already it seems so long ago. In the next week I'll post some photos throughout the blog where appropriate, and tie everything together. And then the blog gets a rest until our next adventure.

Our fabulous day in Rio was bookended by a dismal disembarkation system and an even worse boarding procedure at the airport. But in between it was great. More about that later. Due to an unusual sea current which was completely unexpected in this part of the ocean, our already overdue arrival in Rio was delayed by a further 30 minutes bringing us to 11:30 at the dock. Original docking time was 7:00 a.m. Luckily, we had let Princess know we had independent travel arrangements and were being met at 9:00 a.m. so we were amongst the first groups to disembark. However, that still took us to almost 1:30 and I wondered if Paulo, our tour guide who was meeting us at noon would still be there. The entire delay can be laid at the feet of the Brazilian officials who have an archaic and ill planned system of granting entry. First, the officials had to board the ship and set themselves up, 4 here and 4 there, to personally view every passengers passport. Yes indeed. And once inspected for t

Wow. This is a gorgeous, gorgeous city. On our approach we sailed right past Sugarloaf, so close we could have swum to its base. We could see the cable cars moving back and forth between Sugarloaf and its smaller sister. Couldn’t wait to get there! In the distance facing the harbor we could just make out the enormous Christ the Redeemer statue. It was still early, about 9:30 a.m. and a light haze covered the city so the statue was just faintly visible, almost just an impression of itself. Again, couldn’t wait to see it.

Oh my. First line at 8:45 pm This line was dauntingly long and even though we asked folks in the queue whether this was the United Air lineup Hans thought it would be smart to double check, so off I went. The office confirmed that we were in the proper line as they had only one flight that evening and in fact, everyone I could see was going to Washington, Dulles. The good news was that it was only 8:45 and they had just opened up the check-in wickets at 8:30, so we weren’t late. More passengers were streaming in behind us. Second line at 9:15 pm Alas, the lineup in which we were caught was only a fraction of the passengers. From here, we were led into a zig zag line. You know, where the floor is sectioned off by ropes and you walk back and forth like a lab rat. The three of us went together so we’d be seated beside each other however, when we finally got the check-in counter, the girl wasn’t issuing seats. We did, however, get our three bags checked but it took awhile since our

“What the hell!” Hans and I were both sliding, feet first, off our bed. At the same time all loose items on the nightables tumbled to the floor. Then the ship righted itself and everything went back to normal. This happened around 7:00 a.m. yesterday morning and later that day I spoke with a gentleman who was at the breakfast buffet when the ship tilted. He happened to be standing in front of a tray of fried eggs. “I managed to grab the tray so it wouldn’t crash to the ground, but all the eggs slid off and onto my feet,” he told me with a laugh. “And all the other food ended up on the floor too.” The pools also sloshed over and apparently there was a foot of water to be mopped up on one side of the ship wherever there were pools. The captain didn’t make his usual announcement when things go awry so we were left wondering what happened until later that evening. It was the Captain’s Farewell party with free champagne in the central piazza area and he took that opportunity to update

At the dinner table Teddy and I share a bottle of white wine, Hans has a bottle of red and the Russians vary. On this night, they were also sharing a bottle of white but different from ours. Lief sat on Teddy’s right and three times, Teddy caught him drinking out of her glass! She whispered it to Hans, who relayed the information to Lief. “Oh my. I kleptomania her wine.”

Lief was having lamb the other night for dinner. “Would you like mint jelly?” asked our waiter. “What is it?” said Lief. “It sort of tastes like toothpaste.”

“I see a mountain,” said the sailor a few hundred years ago. And that’s how it got its name. Truly, without the mountain there they would likely have sailed right past it because Montevideo is flat, flat, flat. We hired Santiago, a young James Woods lookalike to take us around in his taxi, and he drove us to the top of the mountain, now crested by a white fort. We could see it from the ship and the view from up top was fabulous. Alas, we didn’t spend much time up there because we were approaching 3 hours, which was to be the length of our tour. We hired Santiago, a young James Woods lookalike. His English was pretty good so we happily climbed into his cab. Unfortunately, the advertised air conditioning in his taxi didn’t work and he had a glass barrier between the front and back seats so even though he spoke good English, we heard little of it. Well, sometimes we heard it, when he turned around and spoke directly to my face using his hands to emphasize his speech. We were con

Due to the monsoon-like conditions of the afternoon weather, accompanied by squally winds, ships have backed up in the River Platte, the inlet into Buenos Aires, waiting for the weather to calm. That means the Star Princess hasn’t been able to leave at 5:00 as planned since maritime law forbids two ships passing in this river as in some areas it’s only 85 metres wide. At present time, we’re scheduled to leave two hours late. This won’t impact our arrival in Rio, at this time. Due to the unusual weather and winds this afternoon, the ship was apparently trying to lift at the stern and threatening to shed its moorings. The captain just told us that they had to remove the gangway for awhile in case the ship decided to go for a walk across the harbor. That would have been quite a shock to anyone standing on the gangplank. And also a bit of a shock to the boats across the harbor.

We had just pulled into an underground parkade at the mall to escape the rain. As the four of us exited the car, Sandra clicked her remote to lock it and turn off the lights. Simultaneously, the lights in the garage went out. It was absolutely pitch black except for one dim light on the ramp. As we huddled around wondering what was going on, the generator kicked in and lights came on. Sandra punched the button for the elevator but Teddy said we should take the stairs. Wise idea. Halfway up, the lights went out again. “That was a good idea,” said Sandra as we continued on our way up. To backtrack a bit, after a hot and muggy morning (more about our tour with Sandra later) a deluge of probably biblical proportions hit Buenos Aires just after 2:00 p.m. It started off as a light rain, and because the air conditioning in Sandra’s Fiat mysteriously died just then, we opened the windows to welcome the breeze that was picking up. The few raindrops that ventured into the car were hardl

When we first saw the Pink Palace 5 years ago, it was raining hard and no one got out of the bus to get a closer look. Today it wasn’t raining when we were at the palace and we were doubly lucky in that on Saturdays tourists are allowed to go through the palace. They give guided tours in Spanish, but we had Sandra with us so she translated anything important. Most of it was self-explanatory though, and it’s quite an impressive building. Very ornate everywhere and quite beautiful. Across from the pink palace is the park in which the mothers and grandmothers of ‘the missing’ parade weekly. These are the women who were left behind in the late ‘70’s early ‘80’s, prior to the Falkland war, when their menfolk were taken by the government and disappeared forever. Every week they don their symbol, the kerchief, and demonstrate as they have done for over 30 years because they still don’t know what’s happened to some of them.

Some time ago I had contacted a Rotarian in Buenos Aires asking if he could make any suggestions for what we should see during our day here. Umberto replied right away and put me in touch with his sister-in-law Sandra, who he said would love to show us around. We emailed back and forth and she was going to pick us up at 9:30 a.m. on our arrival, just outside the dock area. So there we were at the dock’s exit shortly after 9:00 because we didn’t want to be late. We each knew what the other looked like, having emailed photos, but no specific information was exchanged, such as what we might be wearing, would she have a sign with our name, or should we have one with hers, what colour is her car, etc. This lack of foresight made the waiting very uncomfortable. I stood in the road with a make-shift sign that had her name in pen, which I’m sure no one driving past on the road could read. Hans, wearing a Rotary shirt, was walking through the throngs of cruisers looking for anyone who loo

“If you want to sleep with Christopher, volunteer.” That’s how hypnotist Christopher’s show starts. He puts the volunteers into a light sleep and lays them down on the stage. “Do you know this man?” he asked one woman. “No.” “You’ll be sleeping with him in a minute.” It was brilliant. Hans and I saw it Wednesday night and I enjoyed it so much I, *gasp,* even gave up my regular 8:15 p.m. dinner reservation in order to see his show again the next night. I dragged Teddy along, who had missed it the night before, but she was happy to have come and laughed so hard her stomach hurt. He turned himself “invisible” and we watched as one of the participants scampered in fear and confusion across the stage, chased by a chair that seemed to be self-propelled. Too funny! The night before he turned the 4 men into ballerinas who twirled and leapt across the stage with great enthusiasm, if not skill. Unfortunately he leaves us today in Montevideo, but he had a great show and gave us a terrific

After having a bottle of wine nightly, we finally got a bad one. Last night the Fetzer merlot seemed off to me. As always, I’m a little reluctant to say anything to anyone other than Hans and Teddy, but Hans called our waiter over who pronounced it “sour”. Close enough. It was actually musty. In short order the junior sommelier showed up, followed by the senior sommelier, neither of whom looks old enough to shave. There was no argument. They simply brought a fresh bottle to the table and I couldn’t resist asking the fresh faced young man if he was even old enough to drink. Turns out, barely. He turned 21 six weeks ago and joined Princess on Valparaiso, so he is actually of legal age. Where do you learn to be a wine expert before you’re allowed to drink?

Last night at 10:30pm the Captain interrupted everything to announce that, in case anyone had noticed, he had made a 180 degree u-turn and the ship was heading back to the Falkland Islands. One of the passengers was in critical need of medical attention beyond what could be provided by the ship’s doctor and the senior doctor made the call that he had to be taken off the ship. Therefore, we were proceeding at full speed back to the Falklands and at the same time a message had gone out to a Search and Rescue team on the islands and the captain was waiting to hear back from them. Either they would medivac the passenger out or, he would be taken off on land, whichever came first. At midnight the announcement came for all ship’s hand to take up “flying positions” and everyone was asked to vacate the open decks on 14, 15, 16 and 17 and no flash photography or video was allowed. We spoke to a couple today whose balcony was on the side where the helicopter landed, and he said it was out the

In the Falkland Islands today, which is comprised of two large islands and about 350 small ones, we found one named Bleaker Island. “Wow, this island is even bleaker than the last one,” is how we imagine it got named.

This is Hans and my second time in the Falklands and not much has changed. It’s a small community of about 3,000 which doubles whenever a cruise ship docks. The locals wisely stay indoors when we’re out and about since there’s really no main street. What would be a major road is the one along the harbor and it’s thickly packed with cruise tourists all jamming into the same little gift shops. The Falklands are an English protectorate, so everything here is in British Pounds Sterling (read expensive) and they drive on the left, mostly Range Rovers. Four wheel drive here would be fairly necessary in the chilly winter months. Today, at nearly the first day of summer, temperatures were about 12 degrees with a mix of blue sky and cloud. But the wind! Yikes. I wrapped my scarf around Teddy’s neck since I had a hood on my jacket and I was grateful for it. I was no fashion plate, and Teddy has the photo to prove it, but my ears were happy. We stopped for a drink in the same pub Hans a

As we were having breakfast on the Lido, we watched the tenders head out carrying their full load of passengers visiting Port Stanley. Playing in the wake beside the tenders were four dolphins, enjoying the rush of water and occasionally breaking the surface in joyful leaps. We watched them for 30 minutes and when we took a tender, they were still playing and I could see them right beside me. However, by the time we headed back to the ship the dolphins had left, probably exhausted from their vigorous play earlier in the day.

“You’ll know when we’re ready to anchor in the Falkland Islands. Just listen for the rattle, rattle, splash.” Our captain does enjoy his little jokes. And so do we.

No news today, my muse has gone away.

As I sit on the Lido writing the blog, bartenders come around wheeling carts of wine and beer. I’m enjoying a glass of wine, but it’s wine that we picked up at one of the ports for the delicious price of $4 for 2 litres. Here on deck it would cost me $9.00 for a glass plus 15% automatic tip. If we each had a glass of wine in the early evening before dinner, it would cost us a whopping $600. And that wouldn’t include the bottle of wine we have at dinner every evening.

“The end of the world, beginning of everything.” That’s what the sign says, but I’m not sure what they mean. This charming little city of 80,000 is the southernmost city in the world. Teddy says it reminds her of Banff, and I can see why. It lies at the foot of mountains still wrapped in their winter snow and its main street caters to tourists. This is the jumping off spot for Antarctic expeditions. There’s nothing between here and the Antarctic continent expect frigid ocean. But today, the sun was out, temperatures were at a pleasant 19 and the winds were light. Last time we were here the sun was also out, but the winds were fierce and I brought my fleece, windbreaker, scarf, gloves… and peeled all of them off as they weren’t needed on the day trip. Hans took Teddy to the gates of the penal colony, which was active here until 1962. He left her at the door so she could look around on her own since we saw it last time. The prisoners built this town. But then, when Ushuaia was e

We opted not to take a tour in Punta Arenas since we’ve all seen penguins and they seem to be the major attraction in the area. These are small penguins, not the glorious king penguins from the movie, “March of the Penguins,” or we would have gone. But we did miss out on a special sight since our tablemates went to see them and were treated to the unexpected bonus of two giant condors swooping around the area. That, I would have loved to see. We did see two giant stuffed condors in the museum that we toured, and they have a wingspan of 10 feet. Incredible. Punta Arenas is known to be very windy. In fact, our little information sheet tells us that when the winds get really blustery, they string ropes in the downtown area for people to hold onto. Saturday wasn’t very windy and it turned so warm during our walk that I ended up taking off both my windbreaker and my fleece, walking just in short sleeves. A perfect day for walking, though we did walk further than my short little le

The couple across from us on the tender into the city was from Salt Lake City. “We were there in June 07,” Hans told them. “Actually, we were there around 1907,” I said, attempting to clarify. What I meant was, I knew we were there later in June, around the 19th and not the 7th, but in the year 2007.

“Allo? Allo? Allo?” I had dropped about five paces behind Hans and Teddy as we were walking in Punta Arenas and so, appeared to be walking by myself. The man behind me was clearly trying to get my attention and just as clearly, I was ignoring him and trying vainly to catch up to Hans and Teddy. “Wait for me,” I stage whispered. They paused and turned slightly towards me, allowing me to step up between them. “That man behind me is trying to accost me,” I said once safely flanked. “He keeps repeating ‘allo’ and trying to get my attention.” “He’s on his phone,” laughed Teddy. And just then he passed the three of us still going, “Allo?” Allo?” into his phone.

Tomorrow, Saturday, we’re in Punta Arenas, Chile. No place special. It likes to pretend it’s the southernmost city in the world and had scads of postcards printed saying so. However, Ushuaia, Argentina is actually the southernmost city. You can buy the Punta Arenas postcards for 5 cents.

We had three delightful tablemates during the first half of the cruise, but they left us in Valparaiso. We were curious to see who we’d get in the second half of the cruise and were quite disappointed the first night when no one else showed up at our table. Of the two other tables in our section, only one had a pair of ladies. The other was empty. The next night we were thrilled to see four other people waiting for us at the table. “Hallelujah! We have guests. Welcome to our table.” “dobre den.” Oh oh. “Do you speak English?” I asked hopefully. “Nyet,” replied one of the men, a huge smile splitting his face. Well then. That made conversation a real challenge. Turned out that the man sitting beside me, Liev (pronounced like Kiev) did speak a little English but he was busy translating the menu to his three companions, who spoke not a word. Not. A. Word. Last night was a repeat of the same except that the waiters had procured some Russian language copies of the menu so it was eas

There are many ways to pass the time on sea days. For example today, we could compete in the logest drive golf competition, join the Star Olympics ping pong match, play basketball, attend a wine tasting, play trivia (done that, been humiliated), take a ballroom dance class, etc. You get the idea. But a few nights ago we watched Greg Moreland, a magician who was the after-dinner entertainment and yesterday and today he was giving free lessons in easy magic. Teddy and I both went, and when he did the tricks for us and the other 75 people in the room, they were wildly impressive. And then he showed us how. So prepare yourselves. When we get back, we’re going to blow your socks off!

“You think they’d have coffee up here,” complained my neighbour to her husband. We were sitting at the bar in Skywalkers. This round bar/nightclub has 360 degree windows and at Deck 17, sits up above nearly everything at the stern of the ship, giving a virtually unobstructed view all around. Hans and I had come here to watch the magnificent unfolding panorama of Southern Patagonia from the comfort of armchairs and heat. Outside, I saw my first glimpse of snow. The hills on either side of the channel are rocky and rugged, mostly granite and magma left over from ancient times when glaciers crept over the landscape at their, well, glacial pace. Today we can still see the Amalia Glacier, a river of ice flowing down three channels from the Southern Patagonia icefield and meeting in a fat, 200’ thick wedge of blue ice at the water’s edge. The rounded hills are dark shadows, ranging from deep charcoal closest to the ship and become ever fainter until the last ones vanish into the mist. He

Oh My God! The 5 piece orchestra on Deck 5 is playing Once Upon a Time in the West. That piece of music is just so hauntingly beautiful. There are two violinists making the sweetest sounds with their violins. I have to sign off now so I can listen and weep.

Well, this has been my one disappointment. (Photo of the resistance pool) I was so excited to learn that the Star, like the Emerald Princess, also has a resistance pool allowing you to swim in place against the current. The first 2-3 days the maximum speed of the current was too weak to allow decent swimming and this was mentioned to the deck attendant. He told us that when they set the machine so you can crank up the speed of the current, it breaks down too often. Still, he did adjust the setting and for the next few days the current was stronger and Teddy and I were avid users of the pool. Then the machine broke. And it’s still broken. We mentioned it to various staff at the Spa (they know nothing), the deck attendant (who said they would fix it), the Purser (who said they needed to get a replacement part and they would get it in Valparaiso. Not sure what happened. It didn’t get fixed in Valparaiso because this morning it still wasn’t working. I mentioned it to two crew today,

No, we didn’t get hit. But I spoke with a fellow in the pool who’s companion had his wallet deftly lifted somewhere in Valparaiso. Hans never carries a wallet into town. The bulk is too telltale. Instead, he has a few bills folded up in one of his many pockets so it would be virtually impossible for someone to guess which pocket has the money. We try to be very careful and so far, so good. But it served as a reminder that we are in countries where pickpockets abound and you can never take too many precautions.

This was one of the places we really wanted to see in Valparaiso. When we were in Santiago about 5 years ago, we visited La Chascona, one of three houses owned by the famous Chilean Pablo Neruda, the first South American to win a Nobel Prize. The movie “Il Postino” was about Pablo Neruda and his exile in Italy, and some of his lovely poetry is quoted in the movie Patch Adams. Valparaiso and Vina are both built on a very steeply sloping hillside that sweeps into the sea. I mention this because the roads leading up the hill to La Sebastiana were the steepest I have EVER seen. They were unbelievable. The poor little taxi groaned and chugged its way up and at each bend the hill became, incredibly, even steeper. I’m sure it couldn’t have been 45 degrees, but it felt like it was darn close to that. Eugenio deposited it at the entry and went off to find a parking spot, then just waited for us in the shady garden. We were each given a hand-held speaker that directed us through each ro

I don’t know what vina means in Spanish, but vino means wine so I’m thinking vina is the female version and that Vina del Mar means something like Beautiful, Delicate and Wonderful Wine of the Sea. Could be true. As we exited the ship in Valparaiso (pronounced Val-parah-EE-so) we saw a desk that said City Tours. A group just ahead of us were getting a 2 hours tour in a minivan for $25 each, which seemed quite reasonable but they were already too many to include the three of us. So after they left we tried to get our own tour going. We needed to be a minimum of 4 people as the basic cost was $100, or else we would each have to pay $33. To take a taxi up to La Sebastiana, Pablo Neruda’s house, would be $25 one way. Seemed like a lot. So Hans went outside to see what he could negotiate with a local taxi driver while I went to the bathroom and Teddy looked around for some other people to join our group and help defray the cost. By the time I got back, Teddy had found another couple