Adventures on Mars

~ JodiLea ~ 1 Comment

Day One

Our Ship

Embarkation. That’s when you meet up with the Cruise Ship people and they herd you into the bus that goes to the pier. Where you will wait and wait some more to get from customs and all the red tape before you can go aboard. This process can take hours. OR 20 minutes. This depends on your cruise line. Believe me when I tell you that Viking cruise line babysits you from the time you get your luggage from baggage claim, board the shuttle to the pier, and go through security and customs. Yesterday, they achieved a new record. 19 minutes. I could not stop grinning.

Our staterooms would not be ready until 2:00 pm, so we grabbed lunch at the smorgasbord type restaurant, called the World Café. After a hearty lunch and meeting new people at the table next to us, it was after 2:00 pm. Our stateroom was ready for us, but my suitcase had not made it yet. Luckily, I packed my toiletries in hubby’s suitcase. I really needed to rinse and brush my teeth. They felt fuzzy after 24 hours.

After exploring the ship, we had a light supper and hit the hay. No sleep for over 24 hours hit hard.

An American’s View of Europe

~ JodiLea ~ Leave a comment

Not ALL Americans, you understand, just this one.

As a first-timer in Britain, I was seeing with my own eyes places I only saw in photos or videos many times before.  I knew what to expect, I have seen it all on TV, Movies, and the Internet.  Right?

HA!  It is not the ‘seeing of things’ that is the big deal.  It is the ‘being there’ while you are seeing. You are surrounded by the place, smelling the atmosphere there, hearing the sounds. You are actually a part of things happening there in the present time.  MyLastBritishPhoneBooth

As much as I think I know a lot, I was surprised by this feeling.  I can only describe it as a “traveler’s high”, which does not describe it very well at all, I know, but I had to call it something.

The ride from the airport in Heathrow, to our hotel, was a British version of Mr. Toad’s Wild Ride on steroids.  This van driver had to be on heavy sedation meds OR he was quite mad.  Either way, he was going 80 kilometers an hour in heavy traffic. My heart stopped at least five times. We were seated next to huge windows and were witnesses to the mere centimeters between us and the other vehicles.  Not only that, but he seemed to be driving on the right side once in a while, instead of the left side. We were going so fast I could not figure out how the lanes followed the street.

By the time we reached the Conrad London St. James we were exhausted by all the G-force we had to endure to get there. The trip took 47 minutes and 12 seconds. It was a blessing in disguise – we were no longer sleepy with jet-lag, and ready to explore the neighborhood. After many hours on a plane it felt good to stretch our legs. I insisted on a photo with me in the telephone booth. I compromised with my being next to the open door because the competing smells of vomit and urine were awful. Another fantasy smashed.

It was Washington D.C. all over again. My dream of visiting the Smithsonian Museum of American History did not come to be. I found the museum, which was a near miracle, but it was closed for renovation. Closed!?!

Our hotel was right next to Westminster – we were in walking distance to Buckingham Palace.  Big Ben loomed in the distance.  I was so anxious to see Ben!  Unfortunately, the clock face was draped with tarps because of work being done on the clock tower. Not only hidden, but he was also silenced.  I did not realize how much I wanted to hear his “bong,” until I started to cry.

We did not explore long because we were tired and hungry.  I don’t know if we had a late lunch or an early dinner, but Conrad’s restaurant was lovely.  I, of course, had to have the fish & chips. All four of us did.

We could not party all night because we had to get going at oh-dark-thirty to catch the early train to Paris.  I was so excited to go to Paris, even just for one day.  I think that my daughter’s trip there last summer got me interested in going.

It’s true – the French are rude.  What makes their rudeness more annoying is the fact that they are so proud of it.  You won’t find many shopkeepers, tour guides, or those who work in the tourist areas rude.  But watch out for the average French person.

Getting to France was fun in itself. The hotel learned we were catching the early train to Paris and packed a little breakfast container for each of us. I wish I had taken a picture – they were cute and so yummy!

By the time the train let us off in Paris, I was so excited that I could hardly sit still on the bus to the Eiffel Tower – our first tourist spot. Looking at the ground from the top section was unreal. We were supposed to have lunch there, but alas, the restaurant had been overbooked, so people who spoke no French got cut from their reservations. C’est la vie. 

TTFN!

Stay tuned for the Adventures in Central America…

Road Work Ahead

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Don’t you hate seeing these signs?


I do. I see them all year round. I understand that’s when they can work on the roads, so I try to be patient. I normally succeed. This summer’s road work is giving my patience a trying test.

I live on the cul-de-sac of a long and winding road. In early July, a massive road crew started tearing up the street. They are preparing to move the overhead electric wires underground. I’m all for that idea. But, I can’t drive out of my driveway to go to town without causing a major disturbance in the Force. The entire street has open trenches, huge trucks, and equipment blocking the roads.

This is what we see every 20 yards or so. You have to stop at the red light, even though there is no one around. They are watching all the stops via cameras. The arm will only go up if all the trenches are covered. It will let you drive through when the equipment is maneuvered to let a car through. Our five-minute trip to town now takes 20-30 minutes. Unless it is the weekend. But early Monday morning, they are back at it.

We are told that this work will go on until October. Now, we park our vehicles on a driveway down the hill on the street below us. They are part-time residents and are happy we are coming and going, making their property look inhabited. As an added bonus, hubby’s second car is a sheriff’s patrol car. Its presence makes the neighborhood feel safer.