Continuing my travel report - having left Funchal, Madeira, Portugal aboard the Regal Princess from Southampton, England to Galveston, Texas USA.
14 October – at sea
This was the first of six consecutive sea days. I woke feeling better, noting that the “cruise crud” was less severe. I had a Spanish omelet for breakfast, at a shared table with a couple from Vancouver, BC and five Texans for Trump. I apparently misplaced my phone between the loo and the PL!C, where I stopped for a coffee to take to the enrichment lecture. The talk was on signaling and markings, which I found educational. Afterwards, I headed to customer service to report my lost phone, and they turned it back to me when I identified and unlocked it.
A light lunch of a charcuterie board and a cup of bisque, followed by scoops of pink ice cream. Dinner of rillettes, walnut and goat cheese salad, and duck a l’orange. No other notes for the day.
15 October – at sea
After breakfast, I snagged a crossword puzzle copy and headed to the theater for the lecture, but Mr Schneider wasn’t feeling well. As he’d given the talk on another ship and it had been recorded, the AV staff showed it and we heard about the one-man sailing race around the world. At midday I was in the Effy (jewelry) space for their auction, and the third drawing went to me – I got a small bag filled with colored gemstone pendants on chains. I think they were a collection of those given out at their various promotions.
Lunch was tortilla soup and tacos; I was seated with a couple from Phoenix (teacher and recreation professional), Arlington, TX (minister at Loyola) and a gentleman from Nottingham. I spent my afternoon in the laundry, watching as the wash and dry cycles happened. Just as I was pulling the dry clothes out, power went off ship wide, with emergency lighting immediately kicking in. I missed tea.
Down at Crooners, I grabbed a group of 6 seats, opening a bag of Cheddar and Onion Irish crisps to have with my virgin bloody Mary. I’d taken to this mocktail to have before dinner, figuring I’d get something veggie in my system. The solo group was small, including Sheila, a widow from Canada now living in Ajijic (near Guadalajara in Mexico.) She enjoyed a single Bushmills on the rocks, but didn’t have a drink package, so I would order it for her each night. No idea what I had at dinner – the picture of the salad looks like it has prosciutto, and the dish with asparagus has shrimp in what might be grits? I had two desserts, apparently.
16 October – at sea
Nothing directly in the journal, but the next day’s note reported I’d attended the lecture, again on tape, devoted to a discussion on “Historic Highlights” which focused on rum and the history of cruising. My pictures show I had an omelet at breakfast, fried chicken on a waffle for lunch with chocolate sorbet as dessert – quite spectacular! I was seated at a table of 8 for tea (picture shows a mini-roll with chicken salad, and a serving of tiramisu.) Dinner pictures start with a mystery – pineapple? Followed by a cold fruit soup and cioppino.
17 October – at sea
Scrambled eggs with bacon to start the day, with a live lecture on pirates and psychopaths. Lunch included a bowl of soup. At tea, I was seated with solo member Henderson, making us the sole men at a table for 10 – four of whom were from California. One of the west coast women said she’d come to the solo group if I brought my book. So I returned to my cabin after tea to collect it, and headed to Crooners.
At dinner I was one of eight, and started with a cantaloupe melon cocktail. Tom Kah Gai soup next, and then pan-fried turkey scallopine. And a chocolate slice of something for dessert.
18 October – at sea
Mixing it up, I had a double order of muesli. A Destination Talk filled the theater to start, focusing our attention on the island of Antigua, where we’d next make landfall. The Enrichment lecture was on drugs and psychedelics, featuring Timothy Leary. Lunch was sweet and sour soup, followed by a vegetarian Mongolian hot pot. Napping after I switched the wifi to my primary phone to collect messages, I missed tea but went to Crooners for the solo meetup. While my notes say I had 3 starters, only the cold soup is in focus; the beef tenderloin similarly fuzzy, but the caramel pot au crème (with a hot after dinner drink) is okay.
19 October – at sea
Winging it, as I apparently skipped 2 days of taking notes. (Thank goodness I have my copies of the ship’s activities, the Patter.) Breakfast was two poached eggs on toast, hash, beans and a tomato – maybe an “English breakfast”? The enrichment talk was titled “The Fallacies of Nuclear Diplomacy” and my picture of the stage at the start is a map of Cuba. I apparently went outside after the talk, as I took a picture from below of the skywalk up on 16. Nice blue skies and sun, the weather ws getting warmer.
Soup followed by bangers and mash and a trifle comprised lunch. I was late getting to tea, taking a picture of the atrium, but I did get seated.
I’m sure I was at the solo’s. Dinner was a shared table of 8, where I started with borscht and steamed green asparagus. Macadamia- and panko-crusted mahi mahi for a main. No notes on dessert or activities at the Princess Live! Café, which I know I was stopping at nightly.
20 October – Antigua
The Regal Princess had docked in St John’s, Antigua and Barbuda by 8am. I had booked an excursion, Rainforest Canopy Zipline Adventure, which was to take five and a half hours, starting at 10:30. At 9:30, I was on deck 7, getting a few shots of the port having finished my breakfast.
Our group gathered on the pier, and we were off and rolling through the countryside. By 11 we were at the facility, and I began taking pictures of the operation, ignoring the instructions to stow away my camera. Being among the last to be strapped into my harness, they (in effect) confiscated my camera. However, I still had my phone, and took 120 photos with it while we zipped and walked plank bridges.
My first phone picture was nearly an hour after we arrived. Personally, I find phone pictures, particularly in motion, to be poor, with the focus and shutter being delayed, and the button not always firing to capture a shot. However, mine plus the outfit’s professional pictures (for sale) were all we had, and I have posted them to NikonImage for the group.
It took us another hour to get out of our rigs, and spend time in the souvenir shop – the picture sales were particularly inefficient, this being the operation’s first weekend. As there was time, the driver decided to take the longer, scenic route back, so in effect we saw much more of the island than planned. And the ride back was three-quarters of an hour.
We were back with plenty of time for the solo group, so I know I spent time talking with Sheila, comparing notes. She had remained on board, dining in the buffet and sitting in the shade on the pool deck. I have no idea what the four pictures of dinner are – perhaps a pastry shell in sauce, a soup with a dollop of cream, a roast something, and maybe tandoori chicken?
21 October – St Thomas
Late to breakfast, I was still seated and served scrambled eggs with asparagus, a hash brown and order of crispy bacon. Charlotte Amalie was our first US port, so the whole ship needed to be processed by US Immigrations before anyone could offboard. Groups had been specified, including the crew, and by the time I’d returned to my cabin after breakfast, the whole megillah was running an hour behind. Still, when I finally presented my passport, the agent was quick, moving along in 5-10 seconds. Apparently, the facial recognition process was having glitches.
Returning to lock up my passport and grab my hat, I headed out to the pier. As I stepped off the ship, my phone alerted me to a text – Southwest was cancelling my direct flight home from Houston to Sarasota. I would be leaving earlier, and be routed through Atlanta. I sent a text and made a phone call to Dave to give him my information and schedule.
I’d been to St Thomas on cruises two or three times before, so I’d been into town to visit the Catholic and Episcopal cathedrals, as well as the synagogue. (I had asked the Destinations speaker why, in both St John and Charlotte Amalie, he had only mentioned the Anglican cathedrals – he said he’d addressed it to those with questions one-on-one.) One visit I gone on an excursion to sightsee the island, but I’m not a beach person, so I didn’t book a tour this time.
What I did get from the excursions desk was an open ticket for the Skyride to Paradise Point. This tram consisted of gondola cars which rode to the top of the hill overlooking the “new” harbor and, well to the west, the airport. It was a beautiful warm day, only two ships in port, so most moved at a mellow pace. I climbed up and down to the various levels, checked out the shops and galleries, but left the Point with the money I started with.
Once at water level, I headed to a grocery store, finding some hot sauce for my neighbor, and got more cocktail nibbles for me.
Heading back on board, I decided to exercise a dining option and have lunch at Alfredo’s. Located on the ground floor of the atrium, I got a personal pepperoni pizza with extra garlic and gorgonzola. Delicious, once I added pepper flakes, although I didn’t eat all my crusts. At a nearby table, a honeymooning couple from Texas struck up a conversation with me, and we chatted a good while.
Back to my cabin, I backed up the pictures, grabbed my phones and reader, and headed to Crooners. I enjoyed several virgin bloody Marys before Eddie showed up. As he was leaving for his pre-6pm dinner, Sheila arrived and I got her a Bushmills. We discussed the merits and challenges of round-the-world cruises. I have no idea what I had for dinner, as the two pictures are out of focus.
22 October – at sea
The enrichment talk was on the Bermuda Triangle – Franz speaking of the mysteries and anomalies that have occurred in that expanse of ocean. He debunked most of the myths and legends. A second presenter followed, and he focused on Touch DNA – the forensic advances being made by collecting and analyzing residue DNA. He was rusty in his presentation skills, with the attendee’s post-talk scuttlebutt remarking on his lack of polish.
After lunch of soup and curry, back in the theater, the Bridge Manager, First Officer Lorenzo gave a talk on Navigating at Sea. Quite technical, I was fascinated. At 3 I went to tea, and an hour later, back in the theater, the Excursions desk made a presentation on Grand Cayman. Out and to Crooners, Sheila and James sat with me and talked for about a half hour, then heading to dinner. Once again, I had Cathedrals to the Glory of God with me, but the California ladies didn’t show.
Dinner was a celebration, with lobster tail on the menu. I started with escargot, and much enjoyed my lobster. After dinner I was seated at PL!C and took videos of Jonathan singing and strumming, while Michael tended bar.
23 October – at sea
No pictures, but breakfast was the fruit platter and huevos rancheros with a side of bacon. Then I attended back-to-back lectures in the theater: the enrichment talk on the Cuban Missile Crisis, and then an analysis of the forensics of the OJ Simpson trial. The former was of particular interest, as I would be heading to Cuba for two weeks 9 days later. Lunch was salmon. I took a nap until tea. For the solo meetup, it was James, Marie and Sheila. My shared table for dinner were Peter and Kevin, and an Egyptian male. I had a Caesar salad, curried beets and a goat cheese souffle to start, and roast chicken for a main. At PL!C, I continued to enjoy my new favorite whiskey, Jamesons stout – Michael was good about setting a double in front of me on arrival.
24 October – Grand Cayman
And here it falls apart: I didn’t make any notes for 4 days, writing 3 pages of catchup on Monday. So I have to use the 37 pictures I took our Thursday in George Town to try and reconstruct. We were due in port at 7am, and I had a 3-hour excursion “Flavors of the Cayman Islands” booked for 8:30. As this was a tender port, I was queued up in the theater and soon underway with my group, reaching the land just after 9. We boarded a small bus, heading directly for Cayman Spirits Company, a distillery.
Roughly 16 of us, we were herded into their showroom and given a talk on the history of rum on the islands. Through a doorway, we entered the actual distillery, lining the walls and center of the floor with stainless tanks and the two copper stills. Our guide explained the process for distilling ethanol from sugar cane products, and the aging process in oak barrels. He emphasized their Seven Fathoms rum, as it is aged in barrels sunk to 42 feet below the sea surface.
Back into the showroom, we were offered 3-5 samples, and encouraged to purchase their products. I got the impression that folks were finding the prices a bit higher than comfortable. So we returned to the bus, spun around a few rotaries, and pulled into the Tortuga Rum Company. They had their marketing amped up, with manakins of pirates guarding the doorways inside.
Their particular specialty is the baking and preparation of rum cakes. As we watched through a window, the docent explained the family’s history and the production process. Somewhat labor intensive, these cakes are shipped all over the world. We had a few samples of cake, and then some of their Tortola rum. I got suckered into the sales spiel, getting two 750ml bottles of rum (Spiced and Mango) which earned me a 20ml bottle of Vanilla. Together, it cost me less than a bottle of Seven Fathoms.
Back on the bus, we seemed to roll around the same rotaries, pulling into a strip mall. We entered Arbutus Galley Restaurant to have lunch. Starting with a mixed salad, the main was fried chicken with dirty rice, cole slaw and a baked yam. Back on the bus and seemingly over the same roads, we were then being disgorged at a craft market. I made a cursory stroll, perusing the wares and touristy offerings, and then choose to take my rum and walk back to the pier to board the tender back to the ship.
My next pictures are of dinner: fried wontons, paté, beef Bourguignon. Two dessert, one looking like death by chocolate, the other carrot cake.
25 & 26 October – at sea
As my sea days had established into a pattern, I suspect that I was heading down to breakfast in Allegro, stopping at PL!C for a coffee or chocolate, sitting at a shared table. Per the Patter, Franz gave talks both days, the first day on Cuba and the Kennedys, the second on the real story of the Mutiny on the Bounty. A second talk on Blood Splatter was given on Saturday. Lunch was in the dining room for me, and I probably roamed, or read until tea.
Being so close to the end of the cruise, I was finally ready to relinquish my copy of Cathedrals to the Glory of God. I reached out to Tom, the retired military chaplain, and we set a time to swap the book for cash. It's good to know tht there's a copy now in Texas.
From there, up to Crooners to meet with Sheila and whichever solos showed up. On Friday seas were stable enough that they staged the cascading champagne pout in the atrium.
I’ve got pictures of dinner on both days: Beef Wellington and a coated chocolate treat for Friday; a garbanzo bean salad, surf and turf for the main, and birthday cake for dessert. For Saturday, the solos (Sheila, Marie, James) ushered me to Concerto for an early dinner.
I took much of the cake back to the room, to find my first towel animal. I did my packing and got the big bag out the door.
Down at Princess Live! Café, Jonathan had an acoustic guitar, and was joined by two crew members as they sang and entertained. The “regulars” were corralled into posing in front of the bar for the memory shot, including Michael who was also leaving the next day, and Jonathan who had new staff to break in.
A ship announcement was made that the following cruise would be cancelled, as the ship needed maintenance. As it turned out, the Regal was in Galveston getting work done on the electrical system for two weeks.
27 October – Galveston and Houston
We were docked by 7, which was when my alarm had awakened me. I got cleaned up, had no interest in the birthday cake, packing and wheeling my roller down to the PL!C to get one last hot chocolate from Rosti and Helene. I sat a bit, trying to hear the announcements for which color was being called. Finally, I just upped and headed to the gangway. After multiple ramps descending from the Deck 6 level to the pier, I arrived to a vast warehouse-like space.
My luggage, with a silver tag, had not yet arrived, and with a growing crowd of testy, anxious (uncivil) passengers, we waited 30-40 minutes for us to be allowed to look through all the suitcases awaiting us. Once collected, the queues to clear customs and immigration zipped through, a remarkable improvement. Out into the pickup area, I found Bruce who had texted me with the location of his SUV. Clear instructions, I found him easily, and after loading the bags, we were quickly away at 9:30, which had been my scheduled depart time.
Our first destination was the St Mary Cathedral Basilica in Galveston. Twenty minutes after getting into the vehicle, we were viewing the twin towered church, with a glorious blue sky and bright sun. Unfortunately, the sole Sunday Mass was at 12:30, three hours hence, and the building was firmly locked. I walked around it, surveying for my angle, and over the course of a half hour, took two dozen shots. A yellowy-sandstone exterior, two spires in front and one in the rear surmounted with a stature of the patron. Almost all the windows appear to be peaked.
Our next stop was in Stafford, a suburb in the southwest greater Houston metropolitan area. Maps said it would take 80 minutes, but there were slow patches and backups along the I45 adding 20 minutes. Set in a residential community, the campus is surrounded by a fence and has plenty of parking. The St Thomas Indian Orthodox Cathedral itself is attached to more buildings serving as parish hall and offices. A broad open portico allows for drive-up drop-offs during inclement weather.
The exterior is sandstone-colored brick, with three crosses mounted on the peaks of the building’s front façade. I found the front door open, with the nave and sanctuary empty. White walls and vault, the redwood pews are fixed to maroon carpeting, and the red-curtained arch of the apse draws the eye to the altar, similar to an iconostasis. After walking the perimeter of the nave, I chanced through a door to the neighboring space, to learn that I was welcome, but should have removed my shoes before entering.
Bruce waited in the parking lot, and was ready to head to my next church on my list in Katy, northwest from St Thomas about a half hour away. Down the street from a large junior high campus, the low-profile buildings were surrounded by parked cars. The St Matthias Cathedral is the southern of a pair of buildings, the other being a parish hall used by a local Irish Dance school. A cloister separates them.
When I entered the red door, I spoke with a clergyman, the brother of the bishop-elect for this Reformed Anglican diocese. Their father had recently died, and the consecration would follow soon. The nave has a wide center aisle, with dark beams rising along the side, meeting at a point in the vault. In the sanctuary, a beautiful Tiffany Studio red stained-glass window backs the altar, commemorating William Aldrich, the original founder.
We chatted a bit, speaking of my travels, and he suggested we go next door to meet his brother. Unfortunately, the bishop-elect was deep in conversation, so, politely declining pot luck lunch, I returned to the SUV.
Heading pretty much due east for about another half hour, we came to an elaborate campus of the Cathedral of Our Lady of Walsingham: Personal Ordinariate of the Chair of St. Peter.
The church itself faces north, its entrance a large blocky stone-faced tower rising four stories. The cloister is to the west, an iron fence gating off the covered walkway and grass and paved space. I entered from the east transept, finding a solemn space with pecan-like pews and choir loft to the rear. The same wood appears to be in the vault, from which hang tubular chandeliers at the clerestory-level. The apse has stained-glass windows on its three sides, a carved and gilded altarpiece filling the lower wall.
The tabernacle is on the reredos’ surface with candlesticks, and a traditional altar table is in front. An open rood screen demarks the sanctuary; the Christ figure is a chasuble-wearing welcoming Jesus. The chapel for the Presence is to the west, off the transept arm. The organ pipes fill the wall over the choir loft at the main entry. Across the parking lot, a community fair was going on around the high school.
My booking with Galveston Limousine was for 5 hours, and I was 20 minutes from my downtown hotel. With 50 minutes on my clock, I asked if we might at least pass by the more distant cathedral on my list for Monday. It was a slight deviation through the Montrose district, so we headed into town. The Annunciation Cathedral is the proto-cathedral for the Greek Orthodox community.in Houston. Faced in beige stone blocks, it sits on a corner with the community center and parking across Yaokum.
A small domed-topped belltower fills the north side of the entrance, with a much larger dome over the center of the Greek-cross footprint. That Sunday afternoon, it was closed, with even the center across the way unoccupied. After taking my pictures, we wove our way into the Central Business District.
Bruce dropped me off at the Residence Inn by Marriott Downtown at 2:30. I inquired about a pharmacy, learning it was 15+ minutes away by foot. I opted to just unpack in my spacious room and then take a 90-minute nap. After doing some emails, backing up the day’s cathedral pictures, I decided to head out to find a light meal before my Spooky Pub Crawl began at 7:30.
And of course I walked a half hour in the wrong direction, practically reaching the Catholic cathedral. Outside murals caught my eye, as did several churches. I was impressed by some of the architecture, but felt it paled to what I’d experienced earlier this year in Vancouver. Turned around and on a parallel street, I enjoyed watching the play of the sunlight on the high rises as sunset approached.
Having nothing appeal for dinner, I walked into Warren’s on Travis, settling at the bar. Food was limited to snack packs of chips and pretzels, so I got a few bags and ordered a Johnnie Walker Black and soda – the whisky/whiskey options were limited. Seated alongside was an obvious couple, two young men, who were fascinated at my most recent trip, as well as how I’m acting on my obsession. (The blond now lives in NYC, his beau, referred to as the “sexican” is still in Houston.) They wound up joining “Houston Booze and Boos” as the dozen prebooked gathered. We were given a glow-stick ring to wear to identify us, most as neck rings.
Never catching the name of our guide, he was a jolly soul, quite entertaining. He led us through 4 saloons, regaling us with ghost stories of old Houston. At our last watering hole, another couple joined me and asked about my cathedral passion. I’m guessing I passed out a handful of business cards. I was none the worse for wear, especially on an empty belly, so I called for a Lyft to bring me to the hotel. Looking at my camera pictures, blur-city: should have used the phone.
Note: There is a church, the Cathedral of St Matthew, on Airline in north Houston. Its website says they are an independent, catholic, ecumenical community of faith. Bilingual, there is no indication of a resident bishop or more churches to form a diocese, so I elected to not include them in my survey in Houston.
28 October – Houston
Planning to sleep in, at 8 a robocall came in from Florida. However, I rolled over for another hour before getting cleaned up. I’d missed the complimentary breakfast. It still took me until 10:30 to leave the Marriott. Repeating my walk from the prior evening, I came to the Co-Cathedral of the Sacred Heart just before 11am. (The bishop sits in both Houston and Galveston.) Facing southwest and occupying a full block, it looks out across St Joseph Parkway at a large parking lot, where the old cathedral had stood. With the size of the new Sacred Heart, I walked around in the parking lot attempting to find my perfect shot. A slim stone-clad belltower, separate from the cathedral, stands to the southeast of the main entrance.
After “playing chicken” with the one-way traveling traffic, I entered the narthex. A multi-tiered table-based display was filled with portraits in black frames – a memorial to those who had died. Orange paper mini-pumpkins, strung together, added a harvest touch so near to Halloween. Coming through the inner doors, I found the bright and airy space a symphony of cream, beige and brown. The nave walls rose 10 meters to support the clerestory, where triplets of rectangular windows depict angels and allow light to stream into the space.
A slightly bowed vault led to a lantern dome at the crossing, under which the baptismal font and Pascal candle were placed. In the short apse, three red-brown-marble framed alcoves held seating, the middle raised and holding the cathedra, all under a crucifix. Opposite, behind the choir loft, is a large stained-glass depiction of the Risen Christ, set between the exposed organ pipes.
After about a half hour, I began my walk down San Jacinto a baker’s dozen of blocks. At Texas Avenue, I came upon the block devoted to the Episcopal church. A school, diocese offices, a garden and the cathedral, trees cover its edges, compounding my photography challenges.
Red brick covered the outsides of all the buildings, and it was confusing trying to identify the actual door to the cathedral. After walking around the block, I came through a passageway into the garden, and found folks entering a small side chapel into midday prayer services. Getting off my feet seemed a good idea, so I slipped into a seat and joined the service.
Slowly preparing to leave, I approached two official-looking women to ask if I might possibly be allowed briefly in the nave. I was invited to join a docent who was about to show the insides of the Christ Church Cathedral to an out-of-town visitor.
Early twentieth-century in feel, large stained-glass windows, looking to be Tiffany Studio-school, lined the nave walls and rear of the nave. The vault was ribbed in dark wood, also used for the screen, with lighter wood on the sanctuary wainscotting and the reredos.
Encouraged to have lunch at their café, I ate boiled chicken and dirty rice. Leaving, I crossed the street to inquire if I might get up a few flights to take a picture of the cathedral. I was advised a lounge would be open at 4pm and I was welcome to return to have a cocktail. I thought it might be a good idea, as the magnolia and live oak were quite mature. That was in a couple of hours, so I returned to my room and poured through a backlog of emails, and finally got back to my journal.
Thinking to celebrate my birthday, I had booked a brewery crawl through TripAdvisor, which would start at 6pm with a pickup location near Warren’s, where I’d started the previous evening. Heading out early, I was in the park where the rendezvous was set. Fifty minutes before my pickup, I received a text message saying the tour was cancelled. Only one brewery was open that Monday. Maps indicated that Saint Arnold’s Brewery was a 30-minute walk, so I decided to head there. (The tour coordinator texted me with a nearby bar as a suggestion/recommendation.)
The walk to the brewery was interesting. I walked along Main Street to cross the Buffalo Bayou with its public park and then followed Providence Street. Patches of no sidewalk, long grass growth, discarded litter kept me cautious. When I reached the fencing for the brewery property, I discovered the only entry was on the opposite side of the block. In the covered drive thru, older tricked-out vehicles, decorated for participating in parades, were parked.
I walked along the empty outside beer garden, through an entry into a big open space with benches, tables and barrels and various seating arrangements. I got the impression that ordering food was a requirement, not something I needed then, so I headed to the counter fitted out with taps.
Getting a draft Art Car IPA, I found a spot where I could enjoy the breeze and watch the sun set. I pulled out my journal and added to the three pages of entry I’d made earlier that day. A half page, I noted my reflections (impressions) of this return to Houston. In the midtown/downtown/business center, the streets are rectilinear and mainly one way. There are not a lot of pedestrians or homeless. Parking options abound, and the architecture wasn’t terribly inspired. From my people watching, I found that many were thick-thighed, with even the men having butts. Not many thin people, other than some cinched-waist women of the street. Of those I saw who were younger, most were black (?African American?)
Finishing my draft, I called for a Lyft to take me back to Market Square Park, where I’d thought I’d begin my tour. La Carafe was recommended as the oldest bar in Houston, but I needed food at that point. Next door at Hearsay, with a JWB and soda, I picked at a charcuterie plate, admiring the bar wall filled with stacked bottles.
Then next door, back to La Carafe, where I had a bottle of beer. A (very evident) Scotsman was having a drink, and he challenged me when I said I thought he was from Scotland. He wanted to have me guess his home, and, because he was near unintelligible, I proffered he was Glaswegian. And proved correct. He was surprised, but we parted as buddies.
Stopping at the CVS on the corner, I got treats for the flight crew, some OTC cold meds and walked back to the hotel. After packing, I set the alarm and went to sleep.
29 October – return home
The alarm was off at 7:20, I had checked out by 8 and the Lyft had me a Houston Hobby by 8:30. Easily through check-in, security. The Southwest flight to Atlanta left at 11:30, leaving on time. Arriving at 2:30, I moved between terminals and waited for the 6:30 flight to Sarasota. We were an hour late, but Dave was there to collect me at the SRQ airport and drive me home. The house seemed okay; I got settled in and prepared for two days at home, full of medical-related appointments.
Afterthoughts and reflections
I probably should have rebooked my flight to the UK to an earlier date, once I determined that I’d be returning home between the transatlantic crossing and the trip to Cuba. I don’t handle those eastbound long-haul puddle jumpers well, and I could have done with more time in England. I wasn’t able to see any of my 3 London-based friends due to the short period I was there. Plus I could have returned to St Paul’s for pictures that I wouldn’t lose this time.
This was my first Princess cruise, and I’d opted to upgrade my class of service to Plus, which covered gratuities, booze, wifi as well as a few other minor perks like fresh squeezed OJ each morning. On a 21-day crossing, the upgrade made financial sense. The inside cabin was fine, I settled into a routine. The weather-triggered itinerary change was a major disappointment, and Princess didn’t seem to really make any effort to compensate. Cobh for the Spanish ports of Bilbao and Vigo just didn’t cut it for me as I “missed” 7 cathedrals and it cost me about $200 in cancellation fees for the driver in Bilbao.
The passengers onboard were generally nice. With general dining, I learned quickly to be a bit early and request a shared table. The enrichment lectures were educational and interesting, but otherwise, I didn’t find there to be much else stimulating offered onboard. Tea was a failure, as the staff were disorganized, and they crowded us into too tight a space. The solo group needed an assigned cruise-length coordinator. (NCL has spoiled me.)
Embarkation in Southampton and debarkation in Galveston were miserable. The Immigration process in St Thomas needs attention and review. Now, these were ships traveling on the shoulder season, and the excuse was that many were learning their jobs.
The crew handled the outages well, albeit one is always concerned when something major, such as power, blips. The wifi was fairly reliable. The liquor options were limited, and barely adequate. The bar staffs at Crooners and Princess Live! Café were superb. Dining wait staff were evidently understaffed and tired. My room steward was excellent.
London went as well as anticipated, with me getting to the two active cathedrals I’d missed in my earlier surveys. Adding the two former pro-cathedrals and the former Saxon cathedral were bonuses.
Galveston/Houston was fine. I had minimal expectations, saw the cathedrals I planned with a competent driver, enjoyed one of the two evenings out I’d booked. The weather was good. My flights back to Florida, albeit a long layover with a delay, were almost tolerable.
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